On the Shoulders of Giants

The year is 3333. The last of the 4 powers has finally consumed the rest. There have been none left to oppose it but one lonely child. A child by the name of Rishi.

   Just before the passing of “in-home surveillance enforcement,” there was one pregnancy that was never registered. One bunker that was never found. 

   Or, at least these were the intentions of his parents. Unfortunately, Rishi was never so lucky. He was eventually found, managing to escape the mutilation of one parent, though not the other. 

   Upon his appearance before the altar, his beloved mother offered up her own life in exchange for his, if he would only “serve the greater good,” as the Hierarchy demanded. 

   But they would spare neither him nor his mother. The laws were clear. The system, unbroken. Purity was to be maintained.

   Most were neither bloodthirsty nor hateful. They loved their lost loved ones, pitying those who “couldn’t see clearly.” Those within were doing what they had to, to maintain peace and security here on earth.

   Rishi narrowly escaped, with little more than a plan to expose the inhumanity of the powers that be. He saw everything before him as abominable, and he made it his life’s mission to know their practices, and escape their vision. 

   Rishi was the last unchipped, unregistered, unknown… homeless person. And he did everything with intent. 

   He was “the brilliant but suffering genius.” He was compassionate, giving to any deserving soul that he had the means to. He was loyal to all those loyal to him and who served his cause. He was ruthless to those guarding “the peace.”

   He did at one point, through a 3 year long coup, manage to down their 33rd wing, 11% of surveillance infrastructure, for the better part of 30 minutes. 

   In the end, he was murdered like his parents before him, though he had returned their bloodshed to 33 men of theirs. His life was suffering. He never saw any fruit for his labor. His final words were… and I quote… “What a waste of time.”

   It was one of the painters repairing the graffiti “Rishi the abominable” was known for creating, that was so captured as to study Rishi’s work in secret after his sacrifice.

   HE was the one that went on to change the world.

   He never fully understood Rishi. 

   He was a lot less angry.

   I will not name him.

   Everybody knows his name.

   Not many people know who Rishi was.