Groundhog day on steroids.

And this ladies, gentlemen and nonbinaries is what happens when you take poverty, pull it out of the trenches and give social praise and validation instead of real, tangible power and resources.

The Prince gained so much throughout his crusade. Things he could hold and touch and rule over becoming more than a prince, more than a king, more than an emperor, getting wealthier and wealthier. He became all encompassing.

Our warrior saint mistook for loveand respect what basically amounted to a pat on the head and a "good girl!" " who's a good girl!" "Atta girl!". How very reminiscent of the plebbs on the cubicle floor getting perfomance reviews that amount to a high five and a smile while the overlords inhale their efforts and turn it into profit. (I too am a plebb of a different sort with my own overloads - so I can say that yes?)

And in the end,our saint is battered, bruised, falling apart and finally seeing what has been right before her eyes. Another body to be used, strung out, thrown into the meatgrinder until all the flesh is gone. The good chunks sold off and the leftover entrails thrown out in the garbage.

I rarely wish for longer shorts.
I wish this was a novel.