POV: A Citizen of the Empire
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My name used to be Bola Akinyele. Now it's Bola Akinyele Blackwood. And if you ask me to say it with pride, I'll say it with fear instead.
It's been five years since the world changed—no, since the world ended and Blackwood rose from the ashes. What we once called countries are now provinces. Languages, currencies, flags—all gone. All we have now is Him.
Chris Blackwood. The God-King. The Ruler of All. The Man Who Ended Borders. And above us all, a shadow—the Dictator, Christiana Blackwood. His daughter. His enforcer.
When the lockdown began, we thought it was temporary. Now, years later, even with it technically lifted, nothing feels free. Curfews still chain us—10AM to 4PM. The roads fall silent the moment the hour hand shifts. You don't dare breathe past curfew. The Black Axe Men don't knock—they break.
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I live in what used to be Ibadan, now called District 84 – Western Blackwood Territory. My home was once my own. Now it's been scanned, tagged, and logged into the Central Citizen Registry. My ID? Biometrically linked to Blackwood systems. If I misstep once—step outside curfew, say the wrong thing, write the wrong word—my name flashes red.
You don't want your name in red.
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Last week, we saw tanks. Hundreds of them, rolling through the streets in perfect sync. The march—they call it "The Parade of Order." But it feels like intimidation. They don't even wave. They just look. And when they look, it feels like God himself is staring through the steel.
We heard they executed nobles in District 7. Stripped them in public, seized their lands, canceled their bloodlines. I didn't even know that was possible.
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The schools reopened, but they're different. Children stand for the Blackwood Oath every morning:
> "I am Blackwood.
My name is Blackwood.
My blood is Blackwood.
My soul belongs to the Empire.
Long live the God-King."
No one teaches history anymore. Only Blackwood History. And if you ask questions… they disappear you.
I knew a teacher—Ms. Nnenna. She asked why there were no books about the world before Blackwood. The next day, she didn't return. Her entire flat was cleared. Not a single thing left behind. Like she never existed.
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Still… some of us survive. We adapt. We wear the name. We speak the oath. We pass the scans. Because surviving is the only rebellion left.
Some say the God-King is preparing for war again.
Others say he's already won, and what we're living through is peace.
But if this is peace…
Then I can't imagine what his war looks like.
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