Chapter 13: The choices we make
The news anchor's fear becomes evident as he reports on newly leaked documents that reveal the expansion of martial law. This expansion allows the use of lethal force against anyone breaking restrictions, whether they are infected or not. Joon-ho, visibly upset, reacts strongly to the news of these state-sanctioned actions, which are likely to further fuel the growing uprisings.
I look into Joon-ho's eyes, which reflect a fire that we've seen too often in the past. I tell him that the illusion of control is over. The international community's calls for transparency will likely lead to some restraint, despite the alarming reports of militarisation.
History has shown us that emergency powers often lead to violence and a shift in priorities towards maintaining control rather than focusing on the welfare of humanity. Such heavy-handed measures usually result in radicalisation and instability, which, ironically, are used to justify even more oppressive crackdowns.
Live news feeds are now showing that indiscriminate violence against civilians for minor infractions is causing widespread public outrage. People are openly defying what they see as illegitimate authority, lacking any ethical oversight. This approach is backfiring dramatically.
Joon-ho and I watch the live coverage of the chaos. The scenes resemble dystopian fiction, with armoured vehicles moving through city streets, now designated as zones of unlawful assembly. The government's response is escalating the situation.
We silently observe as the situation deteriorates, with security forces threatening to use unprecedented force against the protesters. People are responding with a mix of fear and defiance. The scenes are filled with violence, as the authorities use tear gas and force against the protesters, who are throwing stones and other objects in return.
Joon-ho understands the gravity of the situation. The legitimacy of the authorities is rapidly eroding as they face a stark choice: either retreat and reassess their approach or double down on their use of force, sacrificing any pretence of serving the public good.
As the violence escalates, it becomes clear that any moral high ground claimed by the authorities is lost. They are now indiscriminately firing into the crowds, causing widespread casualties.
Joon-ho is horrified by the familiar sounds of gunfire and screams of vengeance from those being attacked. We both know the critical importance of finding a safe place, as the violence is now uncontrolled and spreading in all directions.
The situation continues to spiral out of control, with the authorities using excessive force to try and maintain order, but only causing more chaos and violence. The news coverage is filled with scenes of brutality and destruction, with little regard for human life.
***
In the dimly lit room, a sense of unease fills the air as Joon-ho and I huddle around the flickering computer screen. The internet, once a hub of filtered and polished content, is now a raw, unedited broadcast of the world falling into chaos.
On one live feed, a government squadron moves through a dense urban area. Their faces are masks of determination and fear. Suddenly, they're ambushed. Civilians, infected and uninfected alike, surge towards them in a frenzied attack. The screen is a blur of movement as the soldiers respond with brute force, but the sheer number of attackers is overwhelming. The camera feed stutters and then goes black amidst the sounds of screams and gunfire.
We switch to another channel, where an influencer, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, is broadcasting live from the streets. Dressed in bright, attention-grabbing clothes, they're laughing and joking, trying to capture the 'perfect' shot amidst the chaos. But their laughter turns to terror as a group of enraged citizens; their faces twisted with anger, turn on them, accusing them of trivialising their suffering. The influencer's camera falls to the ground, the feed cutting out as it captures a final image of the mob closing in.
The next scene is even more harrowing. A residential area has turned into a battleground where neighbours are turning on each other. Accusations of betrayal and collaboration with the government lead to violent confrontations. One particularly chilling moment shows a man, claiming to be administering 'justice', brutally attacking another who he accuses of being a government informant. The victim's pleas for mercy are drowned out by the self-righteous proclamations of the attacker. The camera lingers for a moment on the scene, a stark reminder of the thin line between justice and vengeance.
Amidst this, there are also scenes of the infected attacking both civilians and military personnel. The infected, their movements erratic and uncontrolled, surge towards anyone in their path. The military responds with lethal force, but it's clear they're also terrified, shooting not only to protect themselves but also in a desperate attempt to contain the outbreak.
The most disturbing scenes are those of ordinary people, driven to the edge by fear and desperation, taking justice into their own hands. In one feed, a group has cornered a suspected infected individual. Without any attempt at verification or due process, they unleash their fury on the person, justifying their actions as a necessary measure for survival.
Joon-ho and I sit in silence, the scenes of brutality and inhumanity playing out before us. The world outside has become unrecognisable, a place where law and order have given way to fear and survival instinct. In this new reality, the internet has become a mirror reflecting humanity's darkest impulses, unfiltered and uncontrolled.
The relentless stream of chaotic images on the screen finally fades to black as I switch off the computer. The room is now filled with an eerie silence; the only sound is our shallow breathing. I turn to Joon-ho, his face a canvas of mixed emotions – fear, anger, and profound sadness.
"Joon-ho," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. "How are you holding up through all this?"
He doesn't respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the dark screen, lost in thought. Finally, he looks at me, his expression grim. "I'm... I'm not sure," he admits. "It's like watching the world you know crumble in front of your eyes. And you're powerless to stop it."
I nod, understanding his turmoil. The world outside has become unrecognisable, a frightening tableau of violence and despair. I place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles.
"Listen," I say, choosing my words carefully. "The situation out there... it's getting worse. We've seen what's happening. People are turning against each other, driven by fear and desperation."
Joon-ho's eyes meet mine, a flicker of realisation in his gaze.
"If – and I hope it never comes to this – but if we're faced with a situation where our lives are in danger, we might have to make some hard choices. Choices that could mean harming others to protect ourselves."
Joon-ho's face hardens, a shadow crossing his features. "I... I understand," he replies, though his voice trembles slightly. "But the thought of taking another person's life..."
I squeeze his shoulder, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. "I know. It's a terrifying thought. But we need to be prepared for any scenario. Survival might push us to our limits, to do things we never imagined possible."
We sit in silence for a moment, each lost in our thoughts. The weight of the situation presses down on us, a heavy burden to bear.
"Just remember," I add, "if it comes down to it, we're doing it to protect ourselves, to stay alive. It's not about wanting to harm others, but about surviving this madness."
Joon-ho nods slowly, a determined look settling on his face. "I understand. And if that time comes, we'll face it together."
In that moment, a bond is forged between us, born of necessity and the grim reality of our situation. We sit together, bracing ourselves for the uncertain days ahead, aware that the choices we make could alter the course of our lives forever.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone