Chapter 3.
Here we begin with our glorious protagonist,
Notable for nothing, neither pragmatist,
Nor idealist, but a tabula rasa.
They live in naught but a house, a . . . chamber, a bathroom, a kitchen-room. What all of the middle class have.
Their nation was in trouble.
At once they heard a commotion outside.
Gunshots.
. . .
. . . .
They woke up upon the floor.
They were singing outside.
They were talking outside.
"Long live the Ideology to save our Nation! Our FOLK! Our FREEDOM!"
"Vive ca!"
. . .
Their door opened.
A kick,
A shout,
A crack—
And so they ended gone. A thunder of the light and shout. Another crack. They came wondering where our protagonist was, but he was gone. Where? That is their question.