I have conquered the world, plowed through and plundered my enemies, but for whatever reason, my paranoia pertaining to my people is growing. Disorderly dissent is what I fear most, not so much a full-grown rebellion; my subjects lack both the knowledge and resources to build the framework for another state anyway, much less one that is opposed to the world power. Nonetheless, I must begin the process of strengthening the state’s grip on authority. My cabinet and I have already censored the press a great deal, however, I believe I can still do more.
Firstly, I need to do away with these pre-established ethnic and environmental borders for each of my districts, instead prioritizing them for economic development. This will deprive my people of having a unique cultural identity, allowing them to be micromanaged easier. Now, with this plan in mind, I will begin the process of putting it into action; by which I mean doing so immediately, my power knows no bounds. While I wait for my cabinet to deliver the news of the policy’s success, I sit here at my desk, twiddling my thumbs; biding my time.
I have just received news that my policies seem to have created some adverse effects. Communities have been torn apart, riots have broken out on streets, and different groups have begun fighting amongst themselves. Strikes are rampant, factories are not working nearly as efficiently as they should be, and there are rumblings of an upcoming insurgency. Rebel groups have been fighting on different sides, fighting for control; most notably in Europe’s Balkan peninsula. Citizens, mostly located near the coasts of what used to be Croatia and Slovenia, have begun setting up their own rebel encampments. As of now, I have sent several thousand military personnel to the aforementioned regions.
The more I attempt to fix it, the more the problem seems to worsen. Uncontacted tribes located in the deep recesses of South America’s Amazon Rainforest have managed to acquire weapons by raiding a nearby munitions stash. Currently, the region itself has been plunged into a state of instability, factions have begun to form amongst various groups, all vying for domination of the area.
It has become clear to me that the empire has been stretched far too thin. Apparently, corruption is running rampant, and has been for years, the members of my cabinet who were meant to inform me of such issues were all paid off in order to keep the criminality going. Quite ironic. Why are there people protesting in the streets? One of them has a homemade explosive, it is thrown into my office through a window, and explodes shortly after.
Now that I have officially died, I have entered the afterlife. Apparently, it is real, but I feel like I have been lied to. Everyone always rambles on about how calm and serene it is; that is a blatant lie. My afterlife has only been plagued by lakes of fire and landscapes of scorched earth, the air is dry, this is in no way fit for a king such as myself. From the afterlife, I can gaze at the world I left behind and the consequences I have caused it.
The globe has been plunged into a pseudo-medieval era, with local communities resorting to near barbarism, slaughtering their own in pursuit of power. Not one of my subjects had the knowledge to create any sufficient states; just as intended. I have destroyed this once righteous realm, God; what have I done?