Türkçe“I fail to understand you people! God granted us the gift of reason and the power to think out of all creation. Oh, Lord! If you intended to disregard us, why bestow this gift upon us? There must be a purpose. Just look at these people! They see themselves as significant and unique. Yet, when one refuses to use their mind, how are they different from a beast? How can you consider yourselves valuable when you abandon the very essence of your humanity? It baffles me. They drown themselves in alcohol, numbing their faculties. They get drunk, lose themselves, and escape into other realms—all because most of them fear thinking. They turn their backs on reason, humanity’s singular power. These unevolved apes waste their potential and then dare to preach about rights and freedom. All of you are pathetic creatures but we will embrace our mediocrity and do what is best for civilization. Humanity must always evolve and progress, for the future holds thrilling possibilities.”
After delivering his speech, Albert meticulously observed the expressions on the faces of the organization’s members. Some appeared indifferent, while others seemed merely curious about what plans or statements would follow. Yet Albert, craving critique, scanned the crowd more intently. The opinions of the organization’s backbone and senior members were essential—not only for himself but also for the ideals of the organization.
He clenched his hand into a fist, brought it to his lips, and coughed softly. Clearing his throat, he addressed the group:
“Yes, dear Frederick! I am eager to hear your thoughts on this matter. After all, as the deputy leader, you hold a position of significant influence.”
Frederick was a tall man with broad shoulders, sharp facial features, and piercing yet calm eyes that instilled a sense of unease in those who met his gaze. His dark brown, wavy hair was brushed back as he ran his fingers through it. Maintaining his signature composure, he folded his hands atop his crossed legs, exuding confidence and dignity. Before speaking, he flashed his customary, practiced smile, and the words began to flow from his lips:
“It is impossible not to agree, in principle, with what you’ve said, dear Albert! Your brief speech neatly encapsulated one of our core tenets—rationality. You also touched upon potentialism, a crucial branch of Albrechtism, our organization’s foundational ideology. However, to put it bluntly, I found your explanation rather shallow and banal.
We must articulate our motivations to people more effectively if we want them to join us willingly in pursuit of this noble and exalted goal. A person must clearly understand what they are fighting for; otherwise, what value does their sacrifice hold? As I’ve expressed before, I represent a more conciliatory perspective within our ranks. I firmly believe that fear and oppression are unsustainable tools for governance.
Our mission stands as something far more complex and compelling compared to Neo-Nazis or the Turkish-Polish alliance. Unlike their primitive Social Darwinist ambitions of dominating Europe, we must distinguish ourselves in every sense and impose our ethical principles upon the survivors. Wouldn’t you agree, Belinda?”
Belinda, as emotionless as ever, stood behind Albert to his right, hands clasped neatly at her waist. Her jet-black, glistening hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her amber eyes glinted as she cast a brief glance at Frederick. Parting her lips slightly, she let her words spill out:
“I agree with Albert. It was a fine speech—though, of course, it could be improved. However, I fail to understand why you felt the need to use such a vulgar term as ‘banal,’ Frederick.”
“Ah, dear Belinda!” Frederick replied with an amused smile. “Criticism helps people grow—praise does not.”