Then the people rose up, incensed out of anger, guilt, greed, frustration…an economy in motion lorded over by their darkest emotions. They knew, subconsciously perhaps, they could not win, but anger stokes courage, foolishly, and guilt goads the soul. They ran not as one, an army of vision, but as a stampede of legs, arms, and shrill screams scrambling over one another, their purpose their only unity.

The vizier stood, horrified and mocking. A sight to see, one’s own subjects –slaves rising up against oneself, but still deluded by the trappings of power about to be lost.