The earth’s groan became a roar, shaking the fragile remnants of civilization. Jas stood, their legs trembling, their hand clutching the glowing feather. Ivy Mae and Roman exchanged anxious glances, their breaths visible in the freezing air.
“What now?” Ivy Mae whispered, but her question was drowned out by the sound of distant chanting—angry, desperate voices growing closer.
Through the trees, figures emerged, their faces twisted with anger. Flags waved in the icy wind, bearing the symbol of a broken maple leaf. At the forefront of the crowd was a man whose name was etched into the ruins of history: Pierre Poilievre.
Flashback to Jas’s Vision: A Government Falls
The vision replayed in Jas’s mind. The once-stable government had fallen, torn apart by a campaign promising "freedom" but delivering division. Poilievre’s rise was meteoric, fueled by rhetoric that fed fear and rage. Once in power, he dismantled protections, privatized everything, and silenced dissent.
Corporations thrived while the people starved. Cities became battlegrounds. The wealthy retreated to fortified enclaves, leaving the rest to fend for themselves. Jas saw it all: the protests, the riots, the desperation.
And then, the storms came.
Nature, abused and ignored, fought back with unprecedented fury. Floods consumed coastal cities. Fires raged uncontrollably. The very ground rebelled, splitting open and swallowing what remained of Poilievre’s vision.
Back to the Present: Consequences Unfold
The crowd surged forward, shouting about "taking back what’s ours." But Jas noticed something odd. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes hollow. These weren’t just angry citizens; they were survivors, clinging to the last threads of a failed promise.
Roman stepped forward, his voice steady despite the chaos. “We don’t want trouble. We’re just passing through.”
A man stepped forward, his hand trembling as he raised a weapon. “You’re the trouble,” he spat. “You people… you’re the ones who kept quiet while everything burned!”
Ivy Mae tightened her grip on Jas’s arm. “Let’s go,” she whispered. “Now.”
But Jas didn’t move. The feather in their hand glowed brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat. They raised it high, and the light expanded, blinding the angry mob
When the light faded, the mob was gone. The snow was undisturbed, as if no one had been there. Roman turned to Jas, his face pale. “What just happened?
Jas shook their head, their voice barely a whisper. “It wasn’t them. It was... the light. It’s protecting us.
--
Final Reflection: A Warning
As they continued north, Jas couldn’t shake the vision. The rise and fall of Poilievre wasn’t just history; it was a warning. Power without compassion, ambition without foresight—it always led to ruin.
And yet, the light still flickered. In the ruins of the past, there was still hope for a better future.