1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 177 The Silent Roar

Inside the parliament building, in De La Garcees' office, there was a deathly silence. Outside the window, a deafening roar, like heavy drumbeats, pounded against the hearts of every oligarchic senator. The carefully woven web of parliamentary procedures and legal provisions he had created was shattered before the overwhelming public opinion stirred up by Constantine through newspapers and photographs.

He understood. Constantine had never intended to play games with them in Parliament from the start. Parliamentary debates were merely a stage, a stage for clowns to perform and expose their ugliest faces to the light of day.

Now, the play is over. The people are here to draw the curtain.

……

Port of Piraeus.

With a long whistle, the workers toiled beneath the massive gantry crane, sweat pouring down their faces. Stavros, limping, stood atop a high cargo container. He didn't use the megaphone the foreman usually used; his voice, however, was more penetrating than any megaphone.

He held up the Daily Telegraph high; the front page featured a photo of a mother crying in despair after her flour was stolen, a photo that seemed to brand the retina of everyone.

"Brothers!" Stavros's voice, like a clap of thunder in the harbor at dawn, drowned out the roar of the machines. "Look at this! Show it to all of you!"

He poked hard at the photo in the newspaper with his thick fingers.

"This woman, she might be your sister! That child, he might be your child! We sweat in Athens, in Piraeus, we toil for the Greek shipyards, we work our lives for the Greek railways! We thought we were building a nation!"

His voice suddenly rose, and his bloodshot eyes swept over the faces below, which were covered in sweat and oil.

"But those scum! Those scum in their fine clothes, sitting in the Golden Council! They're protecting the murderers who slaughtered our people! They're discussing bullshit laws so those landlords can continue to drink our blood with a clear conscience!"

"Tell me! How long are we going to have to endure this?!"

A young worker slammed the wrench he was holding onto the ground with a loud, piercing crash.

"I can't take it anymore!" he was the first to roar.

"I can't take it anymore!"

"To Parliament!"

"Get those sons of bitches out here!"

The workers' anger was ignited. They threw down their tools and put down the sacks on their shoulders. The steam engines ceased their roar, and the furnace flames were left unattended. At that moment, the entire port of Piraeus, the heart of Greek industry, stopped beating.

Stavros jumped off the cargo box, his lame leg landing with a dull thud, but he stood straight as a javelin.

"Let's go! To Constitution Square! Let's tell those lawmakers! The people have arrived!"

Not just ports.

The bells of the University of Athens, meant to signal the end of get out of class, now became a rallying cry. Students rushed out of the classrooms, their young faces radiating idealistic anger. They tore down academic posters from the walls and wrote the simplest slogans: "Punish the traitors!"

Shop owners along the street pulled down their blinds and locked their doors. They weren't trying to escape the riots, but rather to join the commotion. One bakery owner brought out all the bread in his shop and distributed it free to the marching crowd.

Tens of thousands of people converged from all corners of Athens. Streams of workers, formations of students, torrents of citizens... like countless streams, they eventually merged into an unstoppable river, surging towards Syntagma Square in the city center, towards the magnificent Parliament building.

However, a strange thing happened when this destructive torrent reached the Parliament building.

No one broke through the cordon.

No one threw stones.

They simply stopped, linking arms and shoulder to shoulder, completely surrounding the parliament building.

Then, they held up the newspapers they were holding.

Thousands upon thousands of newspapers were held aloft at the same time. Each newspaper featured stories of the suffering victims on the Thessalian plains: the desperate father, the dying old man, the mother who had lost her child.

Thousands of silent, weeping faces formed a silent, oppressive ocean.

There were no slogans, no shouts, only deathly silence.

This silence was more powerful than any desperate shout. It was like an invisible cage, forged from the anger and despair of the people, imprisoning the parliament building and everyone inside.

Inside the Parliament building.

A curtain was pulled open a crack. A young oligarchic senator peeked out, and when he saw the endless sea of ​​faces and newspapers outside, his hand trembled, and the expensive silk curtain was ripped down.

"God..." He collapsed to the ground, his face ashen.

De la Gasceez rushed to the window, and the sight that greeted him sent chills down his spine. For the first time, he felt fear—a deep, visceral fear of the people. These people, accustomed to manipulating everything from the shadows, had never imagined that one day the people would force them directly to the dock in such a way.

"Guards! Where are the guards!" Deragace roared in panic. "Call the palace! Request the king to send troops! Immediately! Disperse these rioters!"

His voice echoed in the empty office, trembling slightly.

The call was quickly connected to the palace. However, the reply received from the Speaker's office plunged Deragace into despair.

Half an hour later, the sound of orderly footsteps could be heard outside the parliament building.

Squads of soldiers in royal guard uniforms marched in with measured steps. They were not there to disperse the crowd.

They erected a new cordon of bayonets and rifles between the people and the parliament building.

Immediately afterwards, a royal messenger, escorted by guards, arrived at the entrance of the Parliament building. He did not go inside, but instead loudly read out the Crown Prince's orders to the terrified guards inside.

"By order of His Highness Crown Prince Constantine: Given the serious threat to the personal safety of the members of parliament, the Royal Guard will immediately assume full responsibility for the security of the Parliament building. Until the situation is under control, no one may leave the Parliament building without authorization to ensure the safety of the members!"

"Protect"!

The word, spoken by the messenger, was like a cold dagger piercing the hearts of all the oligarchs in the parliament.

This isn't protection, this is house arrest!

Constantine, through their own "request," rightfully severed all ties with the outside world! They became true caged birds!

De La García collapsed, slumping into a chair.

Just then, the office door was pushed open. A parliamentary secretary stumbled in.

"Speaker! There's a student representative outside... saying they want to come in and submit a petition from the people to the parliament!"

De la Garces was about to order a refusal, but then he thought that this might be an opportunity to de-escalate the situation.

"Let him in!"

A moment later, a young man wearing faded old school uniforms and with a somewhat childish face was "escorted" by guards into the magnificent main hall of the council.

He stood in the center of the hall, facing hundreds of members of parliament with varying expressions, without the slightest fear.

He did not submit a petition.

He simply surveyed the entire scene and, in a clear and calm voice, expressed the shared will of tens of thousands of people outside.

"Gentlemen."

"Or, pass the National Land Redemption and Distribution Act."

The young man paused, his gaze sweeping over De La Garcez's ashen face.

"Either you stay in this building forever!"

After saying this, he bowed deeply to the empty throne, then turned and strode away amidst the horrified gazes of all the councilors.

Inside the hall, there was a deathly silence. Outside the windows, tens of thousands of people remained standing in silence.

The final ultimatum has been issued.