Colors are less vivid... The sky becomes more dark, shadows emerge from every crevice and creep into view.
As the scene fades for the Americans, the Eyes begin to encroach. A hundred thousand eyes, watching the torment from all angles in color, black-and-white, FLIR, night vision, under the sickly glow of fluorescent lighting, through the polycarbonate lenses of myriad soldiers and "peacekeepers", through the bulletproof glass... Through the "Looking Glass" on their rifles. Their eyes see that which your eyes don't see until the moment is far too late... If you see anything at all.
The Eyes exist on the busy street corner, above the stoplights, in the corner shop, inside the patrol car, within your home. They see your every move, judging moment-by-moment whether you warrant another day of permitted existence or breech the steadfast, invisible rules and present a threat to their omnipotence... You live to serve your public servants, allowed to walk upon the Earth to a limited degree so long as your movements, actions, thoughts, and activities are of benefit to the Cowards That Be. Once you become less than a valuable commodity - When you become a mere human being - your unique visage is removed from the purview of The Eyes, hidden by mounds of earth in secret places and mourned only by those whose Eyes have seen your tragic conclusion... God, and those who joined you in death's embrace within the trench.
The machine's Eyes see nothing. They never did.
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