Once upon a time, several decades ago, but somehow in the future…
1956
There is turmoil within the Republic of Oceania; political corruption is rampant throughout its Senate. Realizing that nothing within the Senate is getting done, the four major political parties, Colingratens, Amerikans, Faltorists, and Emperials, keep arguing and getting nothing done, as usual. The only major result is ever-more tightening laws the House calls "Fortunes." A reclusive coalition, known only as the "Party," has recently bombed several major British-French bridges, is preparing to march on the capital city of Olympus, and, even worse, have recently attained Eastasian armaments and heavily-armed vehicles. Many think it's only a matter of time before anarchy…
In the Senate House's Auditorium 1A—it was organized on nine levels, from 1A to 1Z on the floor level, and continuing to 9Z on the ninth level, and a top domed auditorium, labeled 10—Chancellor Paul McCartney, one of the heads of Senate, introduced the Senate representatives and their according political parties, his voice long-reaching and boastful. After introducing the elite senators, he raised his hands, and his resonant voice let out, "Be still. Chancellor speaks." A silence consumed the crowd, as he intended, and he continued, "Because our troops are so few in number, and addressing the initial attacks on the Portsmouth-Caen and Hastings-Abbeville bridges," each word was being carefully made on the telescreen, hidden from sight on the podium, "it is under the most unfortunate of circumstances that the Senate has decided to withdraw our troops from Arabia, in the Middle East," the Senate jeered upon hearing "withdraw our troops." The Chancellor continued, "And instead, put them in the homeland, to defend from attack." McCartney received a completely different reaction when those words were spoken; the House applauded the man they were just booing.
A clicking and whirring sounded, the telescreen started flashing, and a message appeared on the screen replacing McCartney's lines on the teleprompter said in all caps and bold type under an envelope symbol:
YOU'VE GOT MAIL!
Under the message, it said who and where it was from, parenthesized in small lettering:
(From: #1partys_hp
Location: unknown
Subject: Wrath
Urgency: CODE 8)
He continued speaking, "I have just received a message from '#1partys_hp'. I assume it's a merge message from some reps of each of the four parties, but let me see…" He hunched over the telescreen.
Meanwhile, in Auditorium 10, the dome auditorium, which was completely circular, unlike the others, and was surrounded by four inch-thick perma-glass—nearly unbreakable—rested atop the Senate House, many of Oceania's elite had gathered into Auditorium 10. Heavily-armed guards with shotguns manned all doors. Above the dome was a towering spire, with a lookout atop.
A guardsman, burlier than some, wearing aviator sunglasses, with the face of a man of about forty-five, a heavy black mustache and ruggedly handsome features, carried a massive sniper rifle with a long-range scope into the lookout; he looked around through the scope as far as it reached, and saw a squadron of helicopters in ALPHA formation heading for the Senate. The guardsman pressed his hand against his earpiece and said, "Attention, Malcolm-209er: there's a battalion of unmarked bogies coming in at 12 o'clock; permission to open fire, over?" Static, followed by a garbled voice that replied, "Permission granted. Give 'em hell." The sniper nodded affirmatively, picked up and propped the sniper rifle on the railing, and looked through the scope. Through it, he had the red dot positioned on one of the pilot's head… foosch! After readjusting himself from recoil, through the scope, he saw a bloody spot appear on its windshield before falling out of the sky. The other helicopters scrambled away from each other, still headed for the Senate House.
Moments later, a city-sized aircraft appeared over the horizon. The sniper zoomed in on its windshield and saw two pilots, one on each side of the cockpit; between them, wearing a grey and black jumpsuit, the shoulders adorned with yellow tassels, was a short, almost emaciated, pale man with a scruffy orange beard with prematurely balding dark brown hair… The man in the aircraft looked strikingly familiar. Lowering the rifle, the guardsman thought. He couldn't quite think who he was. He'll find out later, he thought.
In the aircraft's cockpit, the small man pulled out a pair of binoculars from a hidden compartment, looked through them, and said to the pilots, "See that tower on top of the Senate?" The pilot to his left nodded an affirmative yes. Squinting, he asked, "Is that a sniper?" Suddenly, a cracked hole in the windshield, between the pilots, appeared the same instant a .100 mm tungsten round ricocheted around the cockpit. The pilot barked, "Get down!" The ship lost control, only to be steadied by both pilots. The scrawny man stepped out of the sniper's sights, returning moments later with three parachutes, one for him and the two pilots. The sniper took a deep breath, re-evaluated his sites, and fired. A moment of still, then chaos as the ship spun out of control, out of site of the sniper's scope. He drew a sigh of relief. Moments later, the building shook, and the perch swayed. The ship snuck up to the sniper to directly confront him. As the sniper came face to face with the cockpit, the little man's eyes shined in astonishment. Compelled, the little man pressed a speaker button and proceeded to speak, "So, the wolf's finally ventured from its den, eh, Big Brother?"
"Why are you calling me Brother? Who are you!?"
"I'm your younger sibling with the recessive genes!"
"What!?"
"Ask the father that you killed! I'll send you to Hell to meet him!" The ship then fired all its weapons, resulting in a massive explosion, obliterating the top of the building, and creating a gaping hole that would certainly later be used for a mass infiltration. "But I respect you too much to be vainly remembered, Brother. When the New Order comes to power, I'll ensure that your legacy is sealed through my rule." A tear rolled down his face in humiliation.