The populace at large is becoming decadent. They don’t sign up for military service, they watch Vidcom shows instead.
Please note that these images and ideas are conceptual representations of the Republica DLC. In-game footage will be shared later in development.
Moodboard: Spoiled Democracy
The recently elected young MP sat glumly in his seat, his brow furrowed in disbelief. The auditorium echoed with the murmurs of debate. Flickering halogen lamps cast long shadows on the cracked walls, and the scent of bunker mold mingled with the odor of various perfumes. “Are they mad?” he muttered under his breath, the words barely audible over the clamor. He nudged his neighbor, the venerable Foolslight, a relic of a bygone era himself, and whispered, “How can we possibly vote to fund yet another law when we can scarcely afford to pay our soldiers? Don’t they realize this will strain our budget even further?” Foolslight, his face etched with the lines of countless political battles, responded with a low, incoherent grunt. His eyes, clouded yet shrewd, remained fixed on a heroic wall tapestry on the other side of the parliamentary benches.
“Well?” pressed the young MP, his voice tinged with urgency. Another grunt, followed by a phlegmatic cough, was his only reply. The old man’s reaction seemed almost ritualistic, a habitual display of disinterest.
But then Foolslight leaned in, his voice a soft but menacing growl. “Young pup, do you know why you were elected? Do you not understand that by voting in favor of such laws, we ensure the population’s happiness, thus securing their continued support for the Prosperity Party?”
The young MP stared blankly at the proceedings in the center of the auditorium, where the secretary, a gaunt figure draped in formal robes, was preparing for the vote roll call. The clatter of the old machinery that recorded the votes was a nasty reminder of their people’s increasing lack of technological progress.
Foolslight coughed again, a harsh, rasping sound that echoed through the chamber. The young MP turned, locking eyes with the old man. Foolslight’s gaze was unyielding. The young MP’s anger, held in check for too long, surged forth. He blurted out, “It is not in the population’s interest to let the state go bankrupt.”
Foolslight did not flinch under the fiery gaze of his younger colleague. Instead, he merely said, “Shh…”
Then, in a whisper that dripped with menace, he added, “The population is strongly in favor of this law. Do you really presume to know better than the people what is good for them?”
A few other parliamentarians close to them seemed to hold their breath, listening in on the whispering. The young MP could feel the weight of Foolslight’s words pressing down on him, a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play. The halogen lights cast eerie shadows on Foolslight’s face, accentuating his stern expression. Before the young MP could respond, Foolslight continued, “I would advise you to keep those sentiments to yourself in the future.” His tone was final, brooking no argument.
The secretary began reading the vote roll call. “For the vote on the enactment of the law to ensure social housing for all… starting the vote roll call… MP Foolslight,” he intoned. “In favor,” replied the old man.
The young MP dreaded the minutes to come and hear his own name called.
