This book is a work of fiction—but fiction, at its sharpest, holds up a mirror to reality. At the center of the story is the Machine: a faceless, all-consuming political force designed not to serve the people, but to preserve itself. And steering it is a Prime Minister who is not driven by service, but by strategy—calculated, cold, and callous. He does not govern with compassion, but with precision. Every smile is rehearsed. Every promise is prepackaged. Every gesture toward the public, especially toward marginalized communities, is carefully staged for optics, not outcomes.

This is the anatomy of political theatre—where engagement is a performance, inclusion is a campaign tactic, and voters are merely data points on a map of power. The Prime Minister at the heart of this tale is unapologetically power-hungry, mastering the art of manipulation while cloaking it in language of progress. His weapon isn’t brutality—it’s belief. And his success relies not on trust, but on the illusion of it.

Though the characters and scenarios in this book are imagined, the themes may feel uncomfortably familiar. It is not meant to document real events, but to provoke reflection. To force us to ask hard questions about the systems we accept and the stories we’re told. Because sometimes, the most unsettling truths are the ones hidden in plain sight—disguised as fiction.