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It's Always the Quiet Ones...
Lying alone underneath the cold blue stars, Arthur dared to imagine the impossible. That one day, this endless night would be over, and the sun would once more shine upon the world. But for that, a hero was needed. And none were willing to step up to the role and create the change they wished to see in the world. So the world, little by little, began to rot.
It had started with the second moon landing, when the countries of the world all fought for extraterrestrial dominance. That violence carried over to the world of everyday citizens such as Arthur, who was fairly well-versed in the problems beleaguering the world. Spies were everywhere, and no one could be easily trusted. No, the darkness to which Arthur referred was far from literal, but it does accurately capture the motives behind the actions of leaders worldwide. Amongst them, that bastard. Alfred Jones, leader of America and dictatorial tyrant set on bringing the world down with him. The man seemed to be the embodiment of evil, challenging any country that dared act against him to a long, bloody war that would inevitably expand the American Empire.
And even as a British immigrant, Arthur knew this went against everything upon which this country was founded. But Arthur wanted radical change - he was a socialist, almost a punk, an anarchist, and he wished to change the way the world worked. But who would listen to him when in power there sat a man with power, fortune, and the world at his fingertips? Mostly those more radical than him and those who were indifferent to it all. But little by little, Arthur was trying, and little by little he was slowly winning people over to his ways. It was hardly anything, next to nothing, but it was an attempt at change.
"And a commendable one indeed sir," relayed a rather distressed Japanese man to the most feared leader on the planet, the feared and intimating Alfred Jones. The man to whom he spoke peered from behind shining glasses, but the eyes that met his gaze were dull at the moment, lacking his usual fire and flair. What emotion lay in those deep blue orbs? Resentment, perhaps fear? Kiku couldn't tell; no one could with Alfred.
Rumors of his instability were short-lived but well-known amongst his staff, rarely heard outside the closed doors of the White House. But as his closest advisor, Kiku already knew this. More than once, he had witnessed the unleashing of Alfred's anger, his insecure meltdowns, his irrational fears taking control, causing him to relinquish his presidential duties for days at a time because he was unable to even think straight. And during these times, a power transfer occurred.
For behind the dull blue eyes that led the nation, there was someone else calling the shots. Someone who harassed and intimidated the powerful president until he bent to his will. Oh, there were far more evil blue eyes in control of Alfred F. Jones, and it's no wonder he looked the way he did, being forced to become another man, to do things he never would have chosen, to lead the world into despair. For behind Alfred was a schemer and a puppet master, a man so evil few even dared to utter his name. A man that only he could see, a personal demon sent out of hell to torture him and him alone. A wraith that went by the name of Matthew Williams.