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"Oops"

"Yeah, no, ur not becoming president"

"Dang"

> Oh, if I may say, there's one final question that would settle the curiosity of your many fans. Did you throw the muffin at Zim's head?

-- Invader Zim

The crowd was silent at first.

Then the murmuring begun.

I sat wide-eyed, blood draining from my extremities, as realization set in.

Shit! It wasn't real! I should have known. No wonder so many candidates were declared unfit for presidency before every election.

I've messed up. I showed our game plan.

The election tribunal chamber was awashed with deep discussion. They were all catching up on an AI-generated summary of the time-dilated simulation, complete with data presented in media of various sorts.

Will they all be able to look beyond my power grab and accept what I was trying to accomplish?

Impossible.

They are all paid off by the very people I'm trying to remove.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

What are we going to do now.

It took a week before the announcement came. I was declared a dangerous and treasonous person, stripped of all offices, titles, and portfolios, and banned from running in politics forever. Exiled in the prison island together with other "treasonous candidates". Now I understand what exactly is happening.

But then the riots happened. Huge crowds gathered in town squares and city centers demanding my return as presidential candidate.

Someone leaked all the data from the simulation. Probably Xavier. He's in the tech corps of the government. Smart move.

Decades of political infighting has caused countless gridlocks resulting in toothless legislature that only benefited the elites and their interests in these corporations that their bills benefited. Wealth inequality has reached its highest peak not seen in two centuries!

Angry mobs now see what change my dictatorship could bring to them. No more crazy rents and mortgages. Everyone gets a home, according to the taxes they pay. The lowest income and unemployed who are registered gets shared dormitaries.

Damn those landlords and sprawling suburbs and roads and carparks that costs more to build and maintain than they're worth.

In the simulation, universal healthcare and free education up to university was implemented, co-payment determined by income. Public transport was no longer a neglected hot potato.

Everyone saw the effects these policies had on the economy. It was one year in the real world. But two entire terms of five years for me in that simulation.

Literacy and employment rates shot through the roof. And there was enough food and water for everyone. Domestic economic growth coupled with FDI ensured healthy wages where many partake of the country's successes.

With this knowledge from my simulation data, military factions across the country sympathised with the rallying demonstrations of hundreds of thousands everywhere and took over counties and cities in spontaneous coups. I was brought back to the mainland from the prison island and easily won the elections.

=====

Now I sit here at the presidential desk mid-term, writing an account of the revolution and watching many things in the simulation come to pass in real life. I have no care for what the future generations think of me. I did what I could to make our country better and that our people were uplifted as much as possible. And I have no regrets.

Sometimes you get good kings that are better than failed democracies. Sometimes you get healthy democracies better than corrupted dictators. There's no real answer. But it takes every new generation to continually evolve the institutions of this country to prevent future evil from rotting us from within its core.

Yours Forever, Muammar Vetinari Lloyd-Kohler-Young

"Si non confectus, non reficiat"?

Indeed. 😂

It had been everything I had ever dreamed. Power, fame and fortune.

I controlled each and every cog in the machine. Everything was perfectly planned and executed by the click of a button. I had full access to anything that happened in the world, and could manipulate it to my whims.My whole day revolved around each manufactured move. Public speeches, regular announcements and fabricated news. It has been such a dream.

I opened my eyes, blinking into the blinding sunlight. I was standing on the same platform that I had been one year ago, where I had tried the VR system. It had been faulty, and I took them off after a few moments in darkness. And yet here I was, one year ago, standing in front of the same crowd once again.

The technicians on the stage looked horrified, working quickly on their fancy computers. Their fingers flew across the key board as I turned around to see the screen behind me. My past year was displayed in a montage on the screen, all the manipulation and deception exposed for them all to see. The mob grew rowdy and many people were shouting angrily.

I realized all too quickly what had happened. They faked the failure of the VR test, to trick me into believing that it was real. They had seen what I had done. They saw what I stood for, what I believed in. And now it was all gone, ripped away from me.

The security guards surrounded me, bringing me below the stage in handcuff that were unpleasantly tight. They took no precautions in ensure my comfort, dragging me down the stairs. I was a traitor to my country and an enemy of the people.

I could only imagine what punishment was in store for me after they had reviewed everything I had done.