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Quoted By:
Mark “The Great” stood before the global audience, his smile twisted into a cruel grin. Behind him, screens flashed images of ordinary citizens—farmers, city-dwellers—going about their daily lives, blissfully unaware they were the punchline of the grandest joke.
He laughed, loud and unrestrained. “Look at you all,” he sneered. “So easily led, so willing to give up your freedoms, your thoughts, your souls. You’re marionettes, dancing to the tune I’ve written.”
Mark glanced back at the elite council behind him, some barely holding back their snickers. “Did you really think you had control? How charmingly naive!” He gestured to the screens showing past protests and revolutions. “Every ‘resistance’ you thought you started—we orchestrated it all. We let you think you had a choice. You fell for it, every time.”
Leaning into the camera, his voice dropped to a whisper. “The best part? The tighter we chain you, the more you thank us. You call it ‘progress,’ ‘safety,’ ‘the greater good.’” He shook his head in mock pity. “We don’t even hide our intentions anymore. We tell you, and you still applaud.”
The room erupted in laughter, the elites reveling in the bitter truth. Mark wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, how we laugh at you. The people, the masses, so easily swayed, so desperate for a leader. You’ve become the joke, and we’re the ones laughing.”
He raised his glass in a mocking toast. “To the plebs, may they never realize just how badly they've been played.” The world watched in silence as his words lingered like a bitter aftertaste, but Mark knew—they wouldn’t change a thing.
He laughed, loud and unrestrained. “Look at you all,” he sneered. “So easily led, so willing to give up your freedoms, your thoughts, your souls. You’re marionettes, dancing to the tune I’ve written.”
Mark glanced back at the elite council behind him, some barely holding back their snickers. “Did you really think you had control? How charmingly naive!” He gestured to the screens showing past protests and revolutions. “Every ‘resistance’ you thought you started—we orchestrated it all. We let you think you had a choice. You fell for it, every time.”
Leaning into the camera, his voice dropped to a whisper. “The best part? The tighter we chain you, the more you thank us. You call it ‘progress,’ ‘safety,’ ‘the greater good.’” He shook his head in mock pity. “We don’t even hide our intentions anymore. We tell you, and you still applaud.”
The room erupted in laughter, the elites reveling in the bitter truth. Mark wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, how we laugh at you. The people, the masses, so easily swayed, so desperate for a leader. You’ve become the joke, and we’re the ones laughing.”
He raised his glass in a mocking toast. “To the plebs, may they never realize just how badly they've been played.” The world watched in silence as his words lingered like a bitter aftertaste, but Mark knew—they wouldn’t change a thing.
