One Man's Terrorist Is Another Man's Freedom Fighter | The Immortal Gazette
The words echoed through the hall, drifting from the lips of some philosopher—probably one who had long passed—"One man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter."
Alice, ever the sharp and somewhat darkly twisted observer of the world, was the first to snort and roll her eyes at the concept. “Oh, please. What a wonderfully convenient way of sugarcoating violence. It’s like calling a knife a ‘tool for opening things’ instead of a weapon.” She sipped her tea and gave a mock grimace. “But, I suppose there's a little truth buried in all that nonsense.”
Loki, lounging lazily in the corner of the room, couldn't resist chiming in, a slight grin curling on his lips. “Ah, Alice. Always so charming. But you’re not wrong. It’s funny how history loves to rebrand people depending on who’s telling the tale, isn’t it?”
Rumple, who had been sulking in the corner, looked up, annoyed. “You two make everything sound so trivial. Every time a new ‘freedom fighter’ emerges, the world is forced to pick sides. People forget that context, history, and perspective shape who gets to be a hero or a villain.”
Alice looked over at Rumple, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re going all philosophical on us, Rumple? And here I thought you’d be the last one to care about context.”
“Because context matters,” Rumple said, growing more animated, his voice gaining conviction. “You see, this phrase—‘One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter’—has been tossed around for centuries to justify violence. But it’s more than just an opinion. It’s the harsh reality that how people are perceived depends entirely on whose side you’re on.”
Loki chuckled, his goatee twitching as he adjusted his position, clearly amused. “Ah, yes. The morally grey area. My personal favorite. It’s not about right and wrong, but who gets to define them.”
Alice’s sharp eyes flicked between Rumple and Loki. “So you both agree? It’s not about the act itself but about who’s telling the story?” She tilted her head, her voice dropping lower. “Are we all just victims of whoever writes history?”
Rumple gave a dramatic sigh. “You know, in the real world, this phrase has been used for decades to explain just how polarized society can be. We love our heroes, but we sure hate the people who want the same thing—a free world, just in their own way. But, of course, once a movement gains power, they’re ‘freedom fighters.’ Before that? Terrorists.”
Loki shifted his weight, the mischief in his eyes evident. “You’ve got to admire the irony, though. You could be fighting for the same cause, but if you’re on the wrong side of history—poof—you’re the villain. When the winds change, suddenly, you’re a hero. All those dead people in the middle? Who cares?”
Alice’s expression grew darker, and she straightened up, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Don’t you dare pretend you’re some sort of moralist, Loki. We both know you’re more chaos than heroism. Anyone can be a freedom fighter, as long as they’ve got enough power behind them. The rest? They're just the pawns in a game that doesn’t care about who's ‘right.’”
The room was silent for a beat, the weight of Alice’s words hanging in the air.
Rumple finally spoke, his tone softer. “It’s a dangerous game, though. The line between what’s justified and what’s just destruction can blur so easily. The world is filled with people who believe they’re doing the right thing. They think they’re fighting for freedom... but at what cost?”
Loki sighed dramatically. “Ah, see? You’re just trying to be the voice of reason now. But you’re not wrong. History is written by the victors, and everyone else? Well, they just fade into oblivion, their struggles seen as terrorism.”
Alice let out a low chuckle. “I love it when you get all existential. But you’re right—this isn’t just some ‘phrase’ tossed around by politicians and news outlets. This is a reflection of how the world divides itself. It’s all about perception. What one person sees as freedom, another sees as chaos. And once you have the power to call the shots? You decide who’s who.”
Loki tapped his chin thoughtfully. “The line is always drawn in the sand. And it shifts. One day, you could be hailed as the greatest liberator, and the next, you're branded a terrorist by the very people who once celebrated your cause.”
“Well said,” Rumple muttered, his voice filled with a hint of bitterness. “But that doesn’t mean it’s a game worth playing. Sometimes it’s just better to stay out of it.”
Alice’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “That’s easy for you to say, Rumple. You’re never on the front lines. You just watch the chaos unfold.”
“Isn’t that what we all do?” Loki asked with a shrug. “Watch the world burn until we find something fun to be part of.”
As always, the conversation shifted from philosophical musings to casual banter. But deep down, the question lingered: Who gets to define freedom? And who decides what’s worth fighting for?
In the end, that was the real heart of the immortal debate—the one that never quite had a simple answer. Because as the world turned and twisted, it became clear that every battle, every movement, was simply a reflection of those in power. And when history was written, it would be told by those who won—no matter how the story started.
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