This has been reposted here to Lemmy as part of the “Curated Reddit Project.”
I AM NOT THE ORIGINAL OP
Kim stood in silence, looking out over the dark, still city of Pyongyang. It was early in the morning, the sun had not yet broken through the thick black canvas of the sky and he was alone.
The city was usually not this quiet. In the day, you could hear the hustle and bustle of citizens going about their business. Engines from cars, blows of whistles from the traffic officers, the underground metro system - the city was alive in the day. The city was growing, expanding - Kim could see it happening. Something new opened; something exciting and unusual what seemed like every week. The people loved that. They adored it. It was a great rate of development and it added to the sprawling metropolis.
But right now the city was quiet.
Kim looked out across the urban expanse towards the mountains. He couldn’t bare to hold his gaze in that direction for very long, as he knew all too well what the souls who lived beyond those mountains suffered day-in, day-out. He had to tell himself each day that the sacrifices of those people, the life they gave up, was not in vain. Famine and poverty was rife. Just 30 miles outside of Pyongyang and people were surviving on so little. His people. He looked down towards the street directly below the balcony he stood on and closed his eyes.
Earlier that day, he had been told that they had starting moving again. They had been dormant for months. Months. Why were they mobilizing now? Kim did not know and frankly, he knew he may never know. He had no communication with them. He had tried, oh he had tried so many times, but each time he had lost people. Good people. There was a grave of North Korean sailors at the bottom of the sea, and Kim had sent them there. It was an attempt to avoid violence but mothers had lost their sons, wives their husbands and children their fathers. He had found the most intelligent minds in the known world and brought them to his country, giving them everything they needed and more to help find a solution but to no avail. Nobody knew what was stirring in the depths of the Korean Sea and nobody could find out. It was fine, a scientific phenomena, until the first boats were destroyed. And then more. And then there was the aircraft…
The only thing he could do to stem their advance, their attacks, was a defense.
The world media mocked him and his office. The missiles that launched from the east coast of his country and made their way into the deep, faceless ocean were jeered at and condemned as failures by Seoul. What the people of the world didn’t know was that these efforts were the only thing standing between the South Korean people and absolute, total devastation. What the politicians of the world knew was that North Korea was the only thing defending the world against a threat that nobody understood.
Kim jumped as the phone in his pocket began to ring. He opened his eyes and dug the device out, touched the screen and held it to his ear. He greeted the president in English and assured him that he had not woken him, that he was already awake and he was happy to talk. He confirmed that they had began to move again and said it was fine to conference in Mr Kyo-ahn. The three men discussed the current tactical situation and confirmed the next action that would be taken. After 3-4 minutes the call was ended and Kim was returned to solitude and silence.
The following day, the DPRK would launch a test nuclear ICBM into the sea. It would be declared a success by North Korean media and a failure by the rest of the world. Kim would watch the launch from the shoreline and would follow the missile as it disappeared below the horizon. Every other politician in the Western world would see the launch as well from the United Kingdom to Spain, the United States, Australia and New Zealand.
And they would silently thank him. They wouldn’t make any statements, their government would make no press releases but in their thoughts, their dreams and in their most sacred of circles - Kim Jong-un would be hailed as a hero. A silent, solemn hero.