“There exists no good or evil, only subjective morality which stems from the selfish justifications of humanity.”

The screen in front of him continued blinking, probably broken because of his justified punch, as if the text in front of him was completely ordinary.

“Damn it all” Wilson O’Brien growled as he stood up from his chair.

Thud

The chair fell to the floor as if mocking him for his conundrum. It said wonders about his exhaustion that he didn’t even acknowledge the event and stuffed his head in the pillow resting by his bed.

“Fuck the government, fuck the job, fuck everything. I am not doing this.”

He had done a lot of missions like this one before, he was an experienced spy for the government after all, going undercover and joining the up-and-coming terrorist organisation as a member to give details about these syndicates to the government. Mostly, the proclaimed terrorist organisations were not an actual threat in any manner and were slowly disbanded by the disappearance of their funders or leaders. There were instances though, like this one where the organisation had a strong philosophy, an ideal to amass a large crowd.

These organisations posed threats, they were not the average syndicate, they were not mafia, they were the revolutionists. They wanted to change society, to bring an idea to reality, more often than not for a malevolent reason. These groups were dealt with by the Enforcers. A secret government army of sorts. Even he, who was privy to more governmental secrets than most people, had no idea what they were.

Back to the point, the philosophy this organisation was employing had the potential to be a severe pain in the ass. He was not interested in this damn troublesome job, he had just gotten back from a mission. He wasn’t eager to go on another one.

Wilson snorted.

He knew there was no rejecting the job, this was the government. While he did not care for his life; he looked at the picture of his daughter, a bargaining chip, looked at her smile, her eyes and he couldn’t help but softly smile as her infectious happiness reached him; he knew he couldn't risk her.

Sighing he decided to roll with the ball as they say and just get this done with. Getting up from his bed, he got to reading the whole case file of The Deck.

A bit over a week later, his preparations complete, Wilson was ready for another mission.

Yeah, he knew that his role as a spy was an important one. It did little to lessen his dislike for the job. Sometimes, all he wished for was to resign from this constant influx of lies and half-truths. Yet, he was stuck in this cycle of madness for there was no backing off in this job that spiralled him into even more insanity and distrust with every passing moment.

Even though his job was taxing, he was an expert in it, knew how to make subtle inquiries in the bars of the underworld, knew how to appear interested in the ideals of these syndicates, and knew how to make them approach him. And soon enough, he was invited to be a member.

The first few months of his membership were spent doing recruitment as The Deck, for all its enigmatic ideals and goals, was still new. Yet, not all of these wretched months, in which his descent to madness continued to overshadow everything around him, had been wasteful as he had managed to get a vague grasp on its hierarchy, which true to its name, resembled a deck of cards. Still, after months of being a member, all he had was a vague idea of the hierarchy and the failure to gain knowledge of its true motives and plans.

Ding

A notification popped up on his phone, from one of his fellow members, Edward, breaking him out of his thoughts.

[There’s a meeting at seven, the notice says it is necessary to attend]

“A meeting?” That was surprisingly different from the norm. Considering that The Deck seemed to focus on the efficient organisation of all its events, this was completely random and ruined all sorts of efficiency the organisation prided itself on. Nevertheless, he replied to Edward, he had formed a possible friendship with the ever-cheerful chap. He had no idea how he even was a member.

[A meeting? Any idea why it would be held now without any prior notice?]

[No idea mate, you know the boss man likes his secrets. Besides we will be attending it in a moment, we will know why it is held then]

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Ah yes, the boss man. Their boss in this organisation. A boss he knew nothing about.

[Yeah, yeah sure. See you at the meeting then.]

This seemed like a perfect opportunity, a way for him to grasp the future endeavours of his employers.

And yet, Wilson frowned.

Something was trickling at the edge of his mind, something in his gut telling him that the outcome of the meeting would be far from ideal.

It was disconcerting for one. He did not want to attend the meeting. But his daughter’s face stared back at him, pleading with him to save her.

He didn’t have a choice, did he now?

Humorlessly chuckling to himself, he entered the grand chambers of the underground facility in which the meeting was to be held. He was a bit early, but well better early than late.

Navigating through the hordes of people, he joined his fellow members, the ones under the same boss, in the crowd.

Startling almost everyone, darkness suddenly engulfed the dreary chamber as a booming voice addressed the confused and bustling crowd. There was an odd quality to the voice that spoke, something enthralling, something supernatural, “Does wisdom perhaps appear on the Earth in the form of a raven which is inspired by the smell of carrion?”

“Those were the words Friedrich Nietzsche once said when he proclaimed himself as our destiny. He claimed that morality, the concept of good and bad, has expired its usefulness and now must be abandoned for the ascension of humanity. As we ponder his words, we must look at where we are now. It is today, on the date of 24th February 2024, that we, the members of The Deck finally gather. Today is the day that we must question everything around us.”

This was already up in the top 10 weird speeches Wilson had ever heard and it has just started. Oh, joy.

“Have you ever wondered, members of our organisation, why we are condemned to this lowly life while the complacent citizens of our country enjoy peaceful lives? Why we are proclaimed as rabid dogs to be put down when the government itself mirrors our means?”

A pause was followed to let the words of the voice settle in and then, “Many would be of a different opinion than I, but I believe it is because we house the potential of change. We are not like the common public, too afraid to be the cause of change or like the government, still maintaining a delusion of morality. You and I are the ones who realise reality. We have been forsaken on the terms of morality in this reality. In this reality, where good or evil are only the products of subjective morality which stems from the selfish justifications of humanity.”

“One may even ask, why were we cursed while we were doing what we thought was right? What was the difference between them and us, when they were doing what they thought was right and we, what we thought was right? It is already too late to answer that. For we have ascended past the delusions of morality. It is today that shall mark the birth of a revolution. We won’t be the terrorists we are branded as but rather revolutionaries, history is written by victors after all. So join me, members of The Deck as we rewrite destiny itself, as we reverse the wisdom of morality.”

Wilson looked at the crowd beside him. The number of members was already in the tens of thousands which made it a formidable force in itself, and he hadn’t even noticed, just how much had he underestimated The Deck?

Besides, he was pretty sure this same meeting was being held in at least a dozen more places right now. The only reason they were risking this many people to a single base was probably that it was foolish to stretch your forces too thin. He had no idea how it would fare against the executors. Neither was he interested in finding out.

Exiting the chambers with the hustling crowd, no doubt moved from the words, he decided to fuck everything. He wasn't interested in remaining in this shithole of a country if this revolution ever arose, he was going to get his daughter and hide in some country. Away from this madness at the very least.

He gathered his supplies from the lodgings provided by the government and walked, no, ran towards the exit of the building. He was going to inform the government about this meeting, he was selfish, not cruel, he wasn't going to condemn the whole of America to this madness by an absence of information and then disappear, probably by faking his murder or so.

He was halted in his tracks, however, “It is a pity really. I had expected much more from my first meeting with the illustrious spy.”

Turning around abruptly, he looked at the speaker, the one who held the attention of the whole unruly crowd through words alone.

The voice continued, “I see the surprise on your face, Wilson. Did you truly think that we would not know of a spy among our ranks? We have always kept tabs on you, or rather Edward has been.”

“Edward? But he-”

The speaker, or probably the leader, spoke as if reprimanding a child, “He what, Wilson? Did you think he wouldn’t have been able to spy on you? Truly, I expected better from you. Arrogance has been your hubris, I suppose. Let me ask you a question Wilson, how could we possibly reverse wisdom?”

A card, the ace of spades, fell.

And Wilson screamed.