Chapter Text
The room was silent, save for the breathing of Eden's mascot, sprawled across the boardroom table. Eyes glossy and unfocused, Ramon sighed, still processing the implications of his actions. He had murdered the council of Eden. The very individuals who had brought him wealth, fortune, fame! Saved his life. His eyes wandered to their lifeless bodies, still slumped over like ragdolls in their seats. On the other hand...
No more faceless goons pulling the strings from their untouchable castle. No more hiding from accountability as the citizens of Eden suffered.
No more lying to children.
No more killing hybrids.
Ramon shuddered. He wouldn't be used to spread their propaganda anymore. Just as he had been ousted from his very own show, the so-called gods of Eden had been... replaced.
The hybrid exhaled slowly, taking to his feet. A few paces forward led him to the head of the table. It was the director's chair. The former director looked positively undistinguished, his body hunched over the edge of the table. Moments ago, this same person thought they'd be walking out of this room, alive. After what they'd done? A foolish show of entitlement, at best.
Ramon lifted his right foot, placing it over the director's head. He looked away.
"Pathetic."
The levitating foot pushed at the corpse. The council leader slid off the table, falling ungracefully from his chair. His body hit the ground with a thud. The pool of blood which had previously accumulated beneath him smeared onto his robes as he took his final resting place, crumpled in a heap on the floor.
Ramon scoffed, keeping his gaze off the body. He stepped down from the table. The alien reached for the director's phone, looting it from the corpse. He examined it briefly, then punched in a sequence of numbers. The boardroom presentation screen lit up, displaying a hub of options, some seemingly available only to council members. At the top right of the menu was a button: 'Stream live broadcast'.
Ramon's eyes lit up.
He navigated to the broadcast feature. In the drop-down menu was an option labelled 'broadcast to all signals'. Did this mean that anything transmitted from this channel would be viewed by anyone with an Eden device? He recalled his perspective-shattering conversation with the frog assassin, replaying one question of his over and over like a mantra: How long before they call him a terrorist?
Right about now, he thought.
Ramon hit the broadcast button.
A live recording window appeared on-screen. This was his chance to say his piece! He took a deep breath, but was interrupted by a familiar warning.
"This program is mandatory viewing. All offenders must pay a fine of 500 credits."
The alien scoffed at the message, rolling his eyes. Before he had time to complain about the ethics of forced programming, a countdown flickered on-screen. Ramon inhaled deeply.
3
2
1
Showtime.
LIVE:
"Greetings, citizens of Eden!"
Throughout the city, millions of heads turned towards their screens. This didn't appear to be a regularly scheduled broadcast. The mysterious presenter had slicked back blonde hair, floating hands, and a large snout. How familiar.
"It's me... Rayman."
Confusion. Hushed murmurs broke out collectively amongst the crowds. From the Eden Late Show studio, audience members made multiple double-takes between the alien talking on-screen, and their live host on-stage, 'Rayman'. Still strapped to the electric chair, an involuntary smirk tugged at the corners of one assassin's mouth as he turned his attention towards the jumbotron. Was it really Rayman? Where on Earth was he?
...Why did he look so terrible?
The alien continued.
"Well, that used to be my name, anyways. Before this..."
He gestured to the council members' bodies.
"...charming bunch, fired me for saying a no-no word on tv."
The audience gasped. Some gagged, turning away at the sight of the corpses. Others gawked, reveling in the state of their oppressors. Rayman's expression turned to a disgusted scowl.
"So much for fighting the good fight against specism. But, I digress."
The crowd was horrified, and yet, captivated. Bullfrog smiled. Something big was happening here.
"Anyways... It's 'Ramon' now."
He stepped closer to the screen, looking directly into the camera. A newfound confidence resonated in his next words.
"...But that's not why I'm calling for your attention, Eden."
The alien's voice dropped to a low whisper.
"I'm here to tell you that this council has been lying to you."
Frantic whispers rang out amongst the viewers once more. What in the world was going on? Was this another terrorist attack?
Ramon adjusted his collar, his expression turning somber.
"...And I played a part of it. They used my image to maintain the facade of a friendly, inviting, peaceful Eden... But look around you, citizens. Is there anything peaceful about this place?"
An uncomfortable silence loomed amongst the masses, permitting Ramon to continue.
"You have no privacy. Your every move is monitored. People you know and love disappear without a trace, and is it ever questioned or explained? Every piece of information you consume is..."
His eyes scanned the room full of bodies again.
"...Well, was, controlled by these tyrants."
As Ramon's audience became more invested in his speech, Eden's digital security forces were frantically trying to shut it down. From a remote location, the team soon discovered that they couldn't disable the unexpected broadcast. Their only intel? The signal was sourced from the highest level of administration: the council conference room.
"Oh yeah, and speaking of misinformation... You know that 'terrorist' who was scheduled to be executed today?"
All eyes in the studio turned to the frog assassin. The hybrid practically jumped in his seat, surprised to be mentioned in the ex-poster boy's apparent manifesto. He kept quiet, both eager and anxious to hear Ramon continue.
"Well, that was a lie too. He's no terrorist! And he has a name, you know."
A surge of warmth filled the assassin's chest, in spite of himself.
"Bullfrog..."
Ramon hung onto the name of the one who opened his eyes. His people deserved to know the truth too.
"On the night of those deadly attacks, this man saved hundreds of lives! This hybrid bravely saved his kind AND humans alike from slaughter, while the council stood idly by, letting them kill each other."
He choked out the last admission, voice shaking with emotion. Anywhere in Eden, you could hear a pin drop. It seemed that almost every citizen was captured by Ramon's words. They listened intently as their mascot forced back tears, wiping at his eyes.
"Oh, how wrong I was. The lies I was fed... The people I've stepped on, the lives I've destroyed..."
He looked away, his expression conveying the shame of his words.
"Not anymore."
A deep breath. The alien regained his composure, staring directly into the camera once more.
"You have a decision to make, Eden. You can rise up! Rise up against the system that punishes you unjustly, pits humans and hybrids against each other, and silences anyone who dares to say otherwise."
Wide eyes graced the visages of Eden's people. They expressed a range of emotions... Shock. Confusion. Anger. However, on just as many others were expressions of understanding, resonance. Trust.
The people believed in him.
>So did Bullfrog.
Ramon's tone shifted abruptly.
"...Or, you can remain passive. Let them control you. Let them take away everything you hold dear. Let them use you, just as they used me."
He didn't have much time. If security hadn't already traced the call by this point, they certainly were now. Ramon was certain someone would be there for him shortly, and not to deliver a box of chocolates or fan letters.
"It's your choice, Eden. But, if you want my advice, as spoken by a recently-made acquaintance..."
Every face in Eden inched closer to their devices. The assassin held his breath.
"History is kind to the just."
All the screens in the city suddenly went black. Ramon ended the transmission, stumbling backwards. The alien suddenly felt dizzy.
What had he done?
The halls echoed with the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.
Time slowed to a crawl. The director's phone fell from the alien's hand, hitting the floor with a clang. Ramon's eyes softened. This was it. His reign as a beloved children's mascot was over. He was a terrorist now.
He stared at the boardroom's luxurious floor-to-ceiling windows. The footsteps were getting closer now.
Ramon quickly reached for his weapons, still laying on the boardroom table. There wasn't a moment to lose! He pointed the twin tommy guns to the windows, unleashing a spray of bullets. As he fired, a huge crack rippled through the glass.
It called to him.
Images of innocent hybrid families, slaughtered by the thousands under Eden's brainwashing, entered his thoughts. Of innocent children, stolen from their families to be groomed into a militia of child soldiers.
A low growl. Ramon clenched his fists tightly.
Of the hero, Bullfrog, still sitting in that execution chair, awaiting an uncertain fate.
...His hero.
The doors rattled violently.
They were here!
Ramon made a break for the window.
CRASH
At the moment the guards burst through the doors, the now-fugitive plunged through the weakened pane. Shards of glass tore at his skin. The open air greeted his fresh wounds, as did the city streets below.
Ramon was falling.
It was for all the right reasons.
~
Back in the studio of the the Eden Late Show, a dumbfounded live audience anxiously whispered amongst themselves. After viewing this... shocking presentation, the general concern was no longer whether or not they would witness the public execution they paid to see today, but whether or not they themselves were in danger. The perturbed citizens asked each other the same damning questions.
"Was any of that really true?"
"How could the government lie like this?"
"If 'Ramon' is the real Rayman, then who's...?"
As if on cue, the replacement 'Rayman' addressed the crowd a little too jovially.
"Ahahaha, well THAT was strange now, wasn't it folks?"
The crowd turned to 'Rayman' skeptically. They didn't seem impressed. The imposter buckled under the pressure of their judging eyes.
"M-must have been some sort of prank, right? Hahahaha... So funny what they show on tv these days..."
Nobody was laughing. The host's attempts to placate the crowd only made them more uneasy.
Sensing imminent hostility, security appeared from stage left. Two men in suits hurriedly ushered 'Rayman' away from the increasingly agitated audience, whilst the remainder of the security detail surrounded the crowd. The people did not react cooperatively, trying to push past the armed forces as they drew closer. As their attempts to resist became more frantic, security's response escalated. One staff member reached for their holster. He drew his firearm, waving it at the crowd.
"Back off, all of you!"
Silence. One brave voice broke through the crowd.
"...Or what? You'll silence us too?!"
A realization dawned upon them all. Ramon was right.
They were all in danger.
The mob exploded in anger. Crying out in protest, they pushed violently against the guards. Shots rang out, then screams. Any possibility of peaceful de-escalation was over now. Some quick-thinking audience members grabbed discarded weapons, wrestling for control of the situation. Others managed to overpower the guards, pinning them to the ground in their superior numbers. The rest clamored for the exits.
From the electric chair on stage, Bullfrog could only smile. Whether he lived or died in this moment, he had been on this Earth long enough to witness the beginnings of a long-overdue cultural uprising. All because one hybrid dared to listen, understand, and speak the truth.
A sense of pride overtook him. The frog chuckled.
"Vive la révolution."