He was in an empty room with cracked and dirty walls. Along with him, there were the five men. They had dragged him there against his will. He wondered what their plans with him were, but he feared that they weren't particularly to his liking.
"...so, my friend. Are you willing to do some jobs for us? Your connection with the underground is a valuable asset to us. And we certainly have understanding for our assets," the old man explained.
"You want me to spy on them?"
"It could be put that way, comrade."
"Don't call me that, I've told you already! And no. I'm not going to work for you."
"Yes, I remember. However, you must accept what is offered."
"But I don't want to cooperate."
"Oh, you will, comrade. You will cooperate."
"What makes you so confident?"
"We have found your parents. Now, you wouldn't like it if ill fate befell them, alright?"
He nodded begrudgingly. Damned bastards, he thought. It was game over. He couldn't object to that. So much for a promising start. He became a pawn. Against his will. Trapped in the machine for the remainder of his life.
As for the rest, things were calming more and more each hour as the Popularists emerged victorious on every front. Even the President's residence was surrounded by them, their boss walking straight into the study room where the head of the state was sitting patiently. However, he was boiling deep inside his mind.
"I hope you realize that you have played into their hands," he spoke without facing the interloper.
"What hands?" Clemens wondered, grinning wide with his eyes full of victory.
"They don't care about us. About people in general. They just wanted us as a part of the buffer zone, keeping the West from marching directly into their territory."
"And yet again, you know best that the West would have done exactly the same, don't you?"
"They're not that cruel. The Committiets' leader, Steelman, is a madman. If he doesn't like us, he will have us all executed and replaced by his kind. And nobody will realize the difference."
"You're a senile old man, friend. You know that won't happen. But end this charade, I've come to conduct business."
"Yes, you've won, I admit. The letter of my resignation is right here, as well as the paper you are drooling to lay your hands on."
"I knew you would come to your senses in the end. But tell me, was the revolt really worth it? Did we truly have to prove our strength to you so that you would see?"
"I've backed down once in the past, letting the Teutons roam Slavia in their conquest of the world. I didn't desire to make the same mistake twice."
"Yet you did a completely different one. Fighting alone against a lion isn't a wise move."
"We all learn," the President noted with a significant undertone, hinting that Clemens was to find out the errors of his judgement soon enough.
However, it was the conclusion of this strange time. The head of the state abdicated that very day, withdrawing from the public and dying silently a few years later.
After the revolution, things went calm. Those who wanted power got it and it would have been stupid to keep the struggle in the open. It marked the start of four decades of oligarchy and silent oppression. Secret police, made up cases and witch hunts were not uncommon, but the public never learned about it. Those in power did as they pleased, living completely secluded from those that they claimed to protect and nurture, the common folk.
The common folk that they now looked down upon as if they were mere rats not worthy of their attention. Pathetic rabble that was nothing more than a means to a very sinister and selfish end.
Such arrogance was doomed to fail, but there was a worse problem. Ignorance. After the fall of this regime, Slavia seemingly reverted to democracy. However, the age that came and continues to today isn't very different as the same breed of people are still sitting in the parliament, having merely switched sides.
To this very day, they are like leeching worms, their habits showing that nothing they said was true and the only thing they really care about is their own welfare. It doesn't matter what the governing system is called. It is always the same story.
In conclusion, neither any kind of democracy nor dictatorship of the proletariat was better, as both led to oligarchy and puppeteering powered by ravenous greed fairly fast. And although they are each a dead end, we haven't arrived at the wall because we aren't dead yet.