The old TV in Nali's living room buzzed with static. Normally, she liked the quiet hum, a sort of background noise to her evenings after working all day at the market in Lusaka. But tonight, the static felt different. Sharper, somehow, like tiny needles pricking at her ears.
She was about to turn it off when the screen flashed a bright, eye-watering white. Nali blinked, shielding her eyes with a hand that was rough and calloused from years of handling vegetables and fruits. When her vision cleared, the white was gone, replaced by a symbol.
It was weird, a triangle with an eye inside it, but then also, like, swords sticking out of the sides? Definitely not something she recognized.
Underneath the symbol, words appeared, slowly typing themselves onto the screen like some old computer from a movie.
"Attention," the words read, in plain, blocky letters. "To the people of Earth."
Nali frowned. People of Earth? That sounded… official. Too official for her beat-up old TV. She reached for the remote again, thinking maybe the signal was messed up, maybe this was some weird prank.
Before her finger could hit the power button, a voice boomed from the speakers. It wasn't loud, not shouting, but it was deep and resonant, like the rumble of distant thunder. It made the small hairs on her arms stand up.
"Do not adjust your devices," the voice said, calm and even. "This is a global broadcast. You are hearing this everywhere, on every screen, every radio, every speaker."
Nali froze. She looked around her small living room, at the familiar worn furniture, the photos of her children on the wall. Everything looked the same, normal. But the voice, the symbol on the screen… that was definitely not normal.
"For centuries," the voice continued, and now there was a slight echo to it, like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once, "we have watched. We have guided. We have waited."
Guided? Watched? Nali felt a cold knot forming in her stomach. This felt like one of those scary stories her grandmother used to tell around the fire, stories of spirits and things that watched from the shadows.
"We are the Vorpal Illuminati," the voice declared. The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and strange. Vorpal Illuminati? She'd never heard of them. Were they a new church? A political group? Something worse?
On the screen, the symbol pulsed, the eye in the triangle seemed to blink. It was probably just a trick of the old TV, but it felt like it was looking right at her, judging her.
"You know us by many names," the voice went on. "Whispers in the dark. Legends of secret societies. Conspiracy theories. But we are real. And we are here. Now."
Nali took a step back, bumping into the small table behind her. Her heart started to beat faster, a panicked thump-thump-thump in her chest. This wasn't just some weird TV glitch. This was happening.
"For too long," the voice said, and now there was a hint of something else in it, something cold and sharp, "humanity has stumbled in darkness. You have fought amongst yourselves. You have destroyed your world. You are incapable of leading yourselves to a better future."
Those were harsh words. But Nali knew, deep down, there was truth in them. The news was always full of fighting and problems. Maybe the world was a mess. But who were these Vorpal Illuminati to say that?
"We," the voice proclaimed, and it was like a trumpet blast now, full of power, "are the answer. We have the knowledge. We have the vision. We have the technology."
Technology? What kind of technology? Nali thought of the cell phones everyone had now, the internet that connected the world. That was already pretty amazing. What could be more advanced than that?
"We are not of this world," the voice revealed. A shiver ran down Nali's spine. Not of this world? Did that mean… aliens? Like in the movies? That couldn't be real. Could it?
On the screen, the symbol started to spin, faster and faster, blurring into a swirling vortex of light and shadow. Nali felt dizzy just watching it. The room seemed to grow colder, the static on the TV louder, a high-pitched whine that drilled into her skull.
"We have come to guide you," the voice said, but the tone had completely changed. It wasn't calm anymore. It wasn't even just cold. It was… hungry. Predatory. "To lead you into a new age. An age of order. An age of perfection."
Order? Perfection? Those words sounded nice, but in the way the voice said them, they sounded… wrong. Like something forced, something unnatural.
"But," the voice continued, and the spinning symbol on the screen stopped abruptly, the eye staring out again, piercing and cold, "perfection requires… obedience."
Obedience. That word hung in the air, heavier than all the others. Obedience meant following orders, doing what you were told. It meant giving up your own will. It meant… slavery?
"From this moment forward," the voice announced, and it was like a judge's gavel slamming down, final and absolute, "the Vorpal Illuminati are your leaders. You will listen. You will obey. You will serve."
Serve? Nali shook her head. No. She wouldn't serve anyone she didn't choose to serve. She was a free woman. She had worked hard her whole life for her freedom. She wouldn't give it up to some voice on TV, some weird symbol.
"Resistance," the voice said, as if reading her thoughts, and now there was a chilling amusement in its tone, "is… illogical. We have the means to ensure compliance. You will understand. Soon."
The screen flashed white again, even brighter this time, and Nali instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. The high-pitched whine intensified, becoming a deafening screech. She clapped her hands over her ears, but it was like the sound was inside her head, vibrating in her bones.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The white light vanished. The screeching faded. Nali slowly opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden quiet.
The TV screen was no longer showing the symbol. It was just static again, the normal, dull static she was used to. Had it all been a dream? Had she imagined it? It felt so real, so terrifyingly real.
She looked around the living room again, half expecting to see something different, something changed. But everything was the same. The worn furniture, the family photos, the dusty knick-knacks on the shelves. Just… normal.
Nali took a shaky breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Maybe it was just a prank. A very elaborate, very scary prank. Or maybe she had just been too tired, maybe she had fallen asleep in front of the TV and had a nightmare.
She reached for the remote, finally intending to turn the TV off and go to bed. But as her fingers brushed against the plastic buttons, she noticed something else on the screen.
It was still static, but now, underneath the static, almost too faint to see, were words. Flickering words, like ghosts of letters. She leaned closer, squinting, trying to make them out.
They were the same words as before. "We are the Vorpal Illuminati." But this time, they were different. This time, they weren't just words on a screen. They were… inside her head. She could hear them, not with her ears, but in her thoughts, a silent, chilling whisper.
We are the Vorpal Illuminati.
And then, another whisper, colder and closer. You will obey.
Nali stumbled back from the TV, a gasp escaping her lips. It wasn't a dream. It was real. They were real. And they were inside her head.
She ran to the window, pulling back the curtain and peering out into the night. The street outside was quiet, still. Just the usual sounds of the city at night, the distant hum of traffic, the barking of a dog somewhere far away. Everything looked normal.
But it wasn't normal. It couldn't be. Not after what she had just heard, what she had just felt. The world had changed. Something huge had happened. And no one else seemed to know it. Or maybe they did. Maybe they were all hearing it too, the whispers in their minds.
Nali felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of isolation. She was alone with this knowledge, this fear. What was she supposed to do? Who could she tell? Would anyone believe her? Or would they just think she was crazy?
She walked back to the TV, drawn to it against her will. The static seemed to pulse now, like a living thing. And the whispers were getting stronger, clearer.
You will serve. You are ours now.
Nali sank to her knees in front of the TV, a cold dread washing over her. She felt like a fly caught in a spiderweb, trapped and helpless. They said they had technology. They said they were not of this world. And now, they were in her mind.
She closed her eyes, tears starting to well up. She thought of her children, her grandchildren. Were they hearing this too? Were they all going to be… enslaved? Made to obey these Vorpal Illuminati?
A picture flashed in her mind, a picture from the broadcast. The symbol, the triangle, the eye, the swords. She saw it clearly now, etched in her memory. It was more than just a symbol. It was… a brand. A mark of ownership.
You belong to us, the whispers echoed in her thoughts. You are ours.
Nali opened her eyes again, staring at the static on the TV screen. It wasn't just static anymore. It was… a doorway. A doorway into something else, something terrifying and unknown. And she had a feeling, a sickening certainty, that there was no escape.
The next morning, the sun rose over Lusaka, casting a warm golden light over the city. People started to wake up, to go about their day. Vendors set up their stalls in the market, children walked to school, buses rumbled through the streets.
Everything looked normal. But it wasn't.
In every home, in every shop, in every car, the screens flickered to life. TVs, phones, computers, billboards, all displaying the same symbol, the same message.
"The age of order has begun."
And in the eyes of the people, there was a new look. A blankness. A stillness. They moved, they spoke, they went through the motions of their lives. But inside, something was missing. Their will. Their spirit. Their freedom.
They were obedient. They were serving. They were perfect.
Except for Nali.
She stood in her living room, staring at the blank TV screen. The whispers were gone. The symbol was gone. Everything seemed silent. Too silent.
She looked down at her hands, rough and calloused, the hands that had worked so hard, so long. They trembled slightly. She could still feel, still think, still remember. They hadn't taken her. Not completely.
But everyone else had changed. She could see it in their eyes, in their movements. Her neighbors, her friends, the people in the market. They were all… different. Empty. Controlled.
Nali stepped out of her house, into the bright morning sunlight. The world looked the same, but it felt alien. She walked down the street, past faces she knew, faces that no longer smiled, no longer frowned, faces that just… were.
She called out to a neighbor, a woman she had known for years, "Mama Tembo! Are you alright?"
Mama Tembo turned to her, her eyes blank, unfocused. She spoke, but her voice was flat, emotionless. "I am well. We are all well. The world is perfect now."
Perfect? Nali felt a wave of nausea. This wasn't perfect. This was… a nightmare. And she was the only one who was still awake to see it.
She walked to the market, hoping to find someone, anyone, who was still… themself. But it was the same everywhere. The vendors were selling their goods, the customers were buying, but there was no life, no joy, no haggling, no laughter. Just… order.
Nali wandered through the market, a ghost in a world of ghosts. She was alone. Completely alone. The Vorpal Illuminati had promised perfection. And they had delivered. A perfect, silent, enslaved world.
And her own unique, brutal sadness? It wasn't the enslavement itself, not for her. It was the isolation.
To be the only one left, to remember what it was like before, to see everyone she knew and loved turned into empty shells, and to know that she was utterly, heartbreakingly alone in her awareness.
She was free, yes, in a way. But her freedom was a prison, a cage of consciousness in a world that no longer knew what consciousness meant.
Her unique tragedy was the crushing weight of remembering everything they had all lost, and the absolute certainty that she was the only one left to mourn it. The world was perfect for everyone else. For Nali, it was a perfect hell.