Subjective "History" lesson

July 20th, 2069 was the day Karl Schwarzwald's life changed forever. He had never imagined that anything, let alone an event of such magnitude, could shatter his life. It was just another ordinary day in Mr. Ivanov’s history lesson, and Karl’s thoughts drifted away from the tired rhetoric of the Soviet Union.

Karl sat at his usual seat, slouched in the back of the classroom, with his mind wandering to distant thoughts. Mr. Ivanov, a stern-faced man with greying hair, droned on about the “glorious history” of the Soviet Union. The lecture felt like an endless cycle, each year, the same topics and the same glorified tales. Karl had long since stopped pretending to care.

Mr. Ivanov stood before the chalkboard, writing down the bullet points with an air of conviction.

The rhetoric, the manipulation of history, it was all so transparent to Karl, who had been raised by someone who saw beyond the lies: his father, a historian, a man who devoted his life to uncovering the truth. His father’s obsession with the past helped him to open Karl's eyes to a different reality, one that the government was desperate to suppress.

As Mr. Ivanov spoke about the Warsaw Pact nations, Karl’s thoughts turned bitter. Karl had read enough to know that the Soviet Union had done nothing but exploit these countries, forcing them into a system that only served to strengthen Moscow’s grip on power.

“Helping the people achieve victory and freedom,” Mr. Ivanov declared with an unsettling smile.

“If protection means annexation and fighting against tyrannical governments, that were backed by the Soviets days before the revolution and exploited by the Soviet government itself, then sure.”

Mr. Ivanov moved on to the next point with a flourish.

“With our assistance to China and India, propelled us into a new era. We helped China secure Taiwan in 1976, and our strategic support ensured that India was able to conquer Pakistan in 1982 and expand its influence.”

“Strategic support? You mean sending soldiers from the Warsaw Pact countries to die in a war that wasn’t their own, just so the Soviets could cement their influence over Asia.”

As the lesson continued, Mr. Ivanov moved on to the topic of food security. Karl's lips twisted into a thin, cynical smile.

“In 1993,” the teacher announced, “the Soviet Union made food a human right, eliminating famine across the land.”

Karl’s mind recoiled.  “It’s easy to make food a “human right” when all the farms are seized by the government and the quality is no concern. The farming families who lost everything only to be handed scraps of their own harvest, they must have been thrilled to live in such a ‘just’ society.”

The final point was perhaps the only true statement of all. Mr. Ivanov spoke with near reverence as he mentioned the Soviet Union's contributions to the space race, especially the advancements in cybernetics and the eventual landing on Mars in 2019.

“While the United States was focused on artificial intelligence, we maintained our position by advancing human augmentation technology, cybernetics. We were the first to land on Mars, and because of that we were also the first to establish a permanent colony on the red planet by 2025.”

The bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson. Karl was quick to gather his things, eager to leave the suffocating atmosphere of the classroom. As he stood to walk out, he caught a glance of Albert, his best friend, waiting by the door. Albert’s face was as composed as ever.

“What was the lesson like?” Albert asked.

“As always, a delightful showcase of revisionist history" Karl replied with a sarcastic tone of voice, while slinging his bag over one shoulder.

Albert laughed softly as they walked down the corridor and continued the conversation.

"It amazes me how they weave just enough truth into the lies to make it sound plausible."

“That’s the neat part, isn’t it? Take a little truth, polish it up, and bury it under layers of propaganda until people don’t even know what they believe anymore." Karl replied.

They exited the school building. The sun casted long shadows of buildings that loomed like monoliths against the neon-drenched haze of the city. Holographic billboards projected propaganda slogans onto the sides of skyscrapers, each message accompanied by the omnipresent hammer-and-sickle logo.

Karl and Albert pulled their hood up instinctively as they passed a cluster of surveillance cameras perched like metal vultures on a utility pole. The cameras tracked every motion, their lenses whirring softly as they recorded the sea of faces below. In this part of the city, anonymity was a survival skill.

Karl’s gaze wandered to a massive screen that dominated the side of a building. It displayed a cyborg adorned in gleaming metal armor, holding a Soviet flag in one hand and a child in the other. The caption below read: “Strength Through Unity, Progress Through Obedience.”

“Doesn’t it make you sick?” Karl muttered, nodding toward the massive screen.

Albert glanced at it, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Every day. But it’s not going anywhere unless someone changes it.”

The two weaved through the crowded streets, where the din of vendors hawking cybernetic mods and bootleg neural chips mingled with the distant wail of sirens.

They stopped at the entrance to a dimly lit metro station. The platform below echoed with the sounds of grinding metal as trains sped by.

“You know,” Albert said, leaning against a flickering lamppost, “it’s not all hopeless. There are people, small groups, trying to push back. It’s dangerous, sure, but they exist.”

Karl stared at him, his brow furrowing. “You sound like you know more than you’re letting on.”

“Nah, I am just hoping for a better future.” Albert said, his expression neutral, but his tone carrying a weight Karl couldn’t ignore.

Before Karl could press further, the screech of an incoming train echoed through the tunnel. The train’s headlights pierced the dimness, casting flickering shadows across the platform.

“That’s my ride!” Karl said, adjusting the strap of his bag.

Albert raised his hands and gave him a little smile. “Keep yourself safe buddy, don’t let the propaganda influence your day.”

“You too,” Karl replied, stepping toward the edge of the platform as the train’s doors hissed open.

Karl turned back for a moment. “See you tomorrow!”

Albert nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “See you!”

The doors slid shut behind him, cutting off the sound of the station. As the train rumbled forward, Karl caught one last glimpse of Albert standing alone on the platform waiting for his train.