If he had a choice, he’d have the old France back, the one he heard tales of that had been passed down from generation to generation, in his mind they needed a new revolution but his people had such low population numbers due to centuries of ‘breed out’ performed that it meant that the French were really a people that no longer existed, gone the way of the New Zealanders and the Australians, now known only as Indonesia.
Dmitri knew nothing of the world though as all he knew was the ways of the French aristocracy, he longed to be a simple baker in a Francanamese Bread Shop selling pork rolls but his conscience wouldn’t allow him, he was French after all.
He performed the only task that he could to keep the French legacy alive, to train these ‘invaders’ in the ways of the French aristocracy, which in itself was tarnished as it hadn’t progressed or developed at all in over 400 years.
Dmitri was a bitter person and his job didn’t help, he could see he was trading away his history but his patriotism to the greater nation and the fact that he couldn’t get any other employment meant he had no choice.
He remembered the young boy from his neighbourhood Michel Truong and how he used to play in the rain, Dmitri was never allowed in the rain.
Dmitri would often find himself envious of Michel but then his inner pride would take back control of his emotions.
Dmitri decided that he would not place this burden upon another soul and decided to have himself sterilised so that he could bare no offspring.
Upon Dmitri’s passing the authorities sent a sample and a request off to Jairo’s facility in Brazil.
Dmitri was reborn.
His legacy lives on.
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