An outcry at the edges of the square.
There they are. The people of STATE. Those who feel the power of STATE, those who had touched the white, those who had enjoyed the comfort of STATE, those who desire the continuation of the reign of STATE. Triggered by the press coverage of the termination, they come to fight for their Bearer.

No.

Already, the demonstrators at the edges of the square are happy to have another enemy to fight. The Bearer too far to reach, they do not hesitate to hit onto the pro-STATE fools. All over the square, a violent movement of people looking for an enemy, for someone to hurt. There is no way the people can distinguish between themselves, but they imagine they can. ‘Look at that vile face, he is surely an enemy of STATE!’ ‘Look at that weakling, surely here to support that bitch!’ Even people who know each other start doubting loyalties and everywhere, fights break out.

‘NO!'
STATE cannot have the people fight each other over her. Their fight will only make things worse.
‘People of STATE!'
Yes.

Though she lies bleeding on the ground, the people of STATE hear the voice of the Bearer in their heads. ‘Like we did at the Day of Souls. Like we did at the Palace of Pleasures. Like we did in Parliament… Oh… Hail STATE. Hail the Bearer of STATE…’

‘Stop. Do not fight for STATE.’

Confusion, as they try to understand what Her Grace is asking of them. Some continue hitting on those vile murderers around them, until the voice of STATE again penetrates their mind with a hard and simple: ‘No. Stop.'
Almost as one man, the people of STATE stop fighting as soon as they can. Their opponents look on, too surprised to take immediate advantage, and stare at fists stopped in mid-air, arms stopped halfway through a punch, eyes averted. The people of STATE bend their heads to listen to STATE: ‘Understand. It is time for the Bearer to go. STATE has decided that this has to come to pass. It is the only way.'
“No…” Like a soft hush, the people of STATE object. But the voice of STATE continues: ‘The reign of the Bearer has to end. Today. It has to end in this way. Do not spend more blood here than the blood of the Bearer. That will create wounds in STATE that the Bearer can no longer heal.
Tomorrow, the Bearer’s Bed will be placed upon this square, to cover the blood of the Bearer, shed for you. For you to remember, for you to commemorate, for STATE to sleep under. STATE needs you to live. STATE needs you to tell the true course of events. STATE has to remain free from any link with civil war. So go now in peace.'
With heads bowed, the people of STATE fight the idea of leaving the Bearer with her enemies. But as they struggle against accepting it, they feel STATE watching them. Gently, it is steering them into acceptance by opening their minds for a new future. They watch breathlessly as a panoramic view of the years to come unfolds, STATE dispersing like light, immaterial and omnipresent.
As they stand very still, their adversaries start to jeer at them, to push them, though they are afraid to hit hard. But the people of STATE do not hear them, do not feel them, as they understand that something much bigger is happening today. Some start to cry, or mumble last things they wanted to say to STATE, or shake their heads in mute rebellion against the idea of having to live in a state without Bearer. They are afraid Martin Rislers will become a next President, of having again violence and arbitrariness and lawlessness.
‘Go. STATE will still be here. STATE will always be here. STATE watch over you, always and everywhere. Listen and you will hear STATE. STATE is already transformed into sound. Trust STATE. Go home in peace.’

Trust in STATE…

Hail STATE…

Trust the Bearer of STATE…

Trust in STATE…

One by one, and then in small groups, the people of STATE turn and walk away from the square. Their heads are bowed and they look sad. But they cannot go against the reason for their will to fight. If they would, they would fight for the sake of fighting and that is not why they have come. They fear what will happen to S., to the Bearer, to STATE, to the nation.
But they cannot and should not stop what is happening.

The people see their opponents leaving and cry for victory. “YES!” Martin cries with them, relieved. “Let them GO! Let them go in peace! Let them leave STATE, just like all the rest of them! Just like we all!”

Loud jeers from everybody, though some are disappointed they cannot fight them to death. But Rislers’ voice does not leave space for them to act: “SEE, even its most true supporters turn and walk away. Victory for the PEOPLE!
We are the strong, and we will overcome everything!
We will destroy STATE. We will destroy STATE!
WE WILL DESTROY STATE!"
And from thousands of throats, the same cry is hurled triumphantly in the air. An enormous amount of energy is surging through the crowd. ‘Our fears will be vindicated! Finally the power will have to take us seriously! Finally, our will will be realized!
OUR power will be felt!
Now!
Here!'
Like a horde of wild beings, they dive on top of the Bearer, who had not even gotten up. They kick and hit her where they can. They hit onto each other in the process, but the pain is not registered, and if so, only enhances the thirst for blood.
They want her blood. And before long, it is there.

S. does not hear the humans anymore.
She is no longer human…
She is no longer inhuman…
She is no longer animate…
She is no longer inanimate…
This
is how it should be. This
is what STATE has worked for the past months, the unspoken agenda. This
is the end
of her:
and at first, she is desperate,
like a human facing death; fearful,
like an organism fearing its extinction; indifferent,
like a ball being kicked from side to side; imbalanced,
like a system reaching disintegration; flickering with expansive explosions of energy,
like a storm of particles; fluid and transparent, halting and grating, thumping and flowing, thin and all-encompassing, gripping and distant, modulating into dissonances, into consonants, into syllables, into stuttering, into sighing, thumping, wailing, screeching, whispering, whistling, sighing, shuddering, crying, swishing, modulating.
STATE tunes into the White Symphonies and her whole being is suffused by the sound. As she submerges herself into it, her self dissolves. STATE has already transformed into sound and now she is transforming. The organs which kept her body going are bruised then torn then ripped apart, the body cells stretched until they revert to their constituent molecules and the space between atoms opens to pure white as the particles which have formed her persona are being shredded, the sentences that told her story disintegrate into words, into syllables, into consonant and vowels: into sound.
The structures of STATE lose their coherence. The communication that had shaped the views of her is cut and falls apart into nonsensical soundbites as the people who had formed STATE dismantle it, annihilate it, and destroy her with it. Finally. Finally.
Finally…
F
i
n
.
.
.
.