09Oct24
~500 words, 3 minute read
In the grand courtroom of Brasília, a life-sized mannequin resembling the eccentric billionaire stood facing the bench. The air was thick with tension as the anti-capitalist Judge Almeida glared at the effigy. “In absentia, we find the defendant guilty of violating Brazilian sovereignty,” she declared, her voice echoing through the hall. “His website is hereby banned across all territories.”
Reporters scribbled furiously as murmurs spread among the spectators. Outside, protestors waved signs both supporting and condemning the verdict. Miles away, in his high-tech lair filled with holographic screens and robotic assistants, the billionaire watched the proceedings with a smirk. “They think a courtroom puppet can stop me?” he mused.
A journalist’s face appeared on one of his screens. “Sir, how do you respond to Brazil’s decision to ban your services?” she asked.
He leaned back, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “They can just go to hell,” he replied bluntly. “My satellites are above their reach. Let them shake their fists at the sky.”
High above Earth, the night sky was a tapestry of shimmering satellites, tiny jewels orbiting in silent harmony.
Without warning, trails of fiery light streaked upward—missiles launched simultaneously from undisclosed locations. One by one, the satellites erupted into blossoms of flame and metal, like dying stars casting their final light.
The initial explosions birthed a cascade of destruction. Debris careened into neighboring satellites, triggering a chain reaction that spread like a celestial wildfire. The sky became a battlefield of burning fragments, a relentless storm of human-made meteors. It was as if the heavens had shattered, raining down the remnants of humanity’s hubris.
On Earth, screens flickered and died. Communication networks dissolved into static, a digital snowfall erasing connections. The global web of satellites, once a shining constellation of progress, had become a swirling maelstrom of chaos. The invisible threads that stitched the world together were severed, plunging societies into an unexpected silence.
Deep within the Amazon rainforest, Tainá, a young tribesman, tended to his herd under the canopy of ancient trees. Night embraced the jungle, and he looked up to navigate by the stars his ancestors had known for generations. But the familiar patterns were lost amid thousands of new lights that danced erratically across the sky.
His breath caught. “Spirits of the sky, what is this?” he whispered, fear gripping his heart. The celestial order had been replaced by chaos, the constellations drowned in a sea of unfamiliar stars. Memories of his grandmother’s prophecies flooded his mind—tales of omens and the wrath of forgotten gods.
Clutching his talisman, he turned and ran through the shadowed paths of the jungle. The whispers of the night seemed to urge him faster, leaves and branches becoming a blur as he raced back to his village. The elders had to know; the balance of the world had been disturbed.