The rain struck harder than before—turning soil into mud, pooling into red puddles where blood had once dried.
The sky was darker than night, clouds strangling the sunlight, as if the heavens themselves refused to look down on this land.
Man:
"The ones who escaped… they carried a message from mouth to mouth, home to home, heart to heart."
'Slavery is Wrong. Humans Cannot Be Owned.'
Visual: Black men and women standing in crowds, rain-soaked banners raised high. Faces tired, but eyes burning.
They wrote speeches with trembling hands.
They carved words into walls.
They spoke in crowded taverns and quiet markets.
They gathered, marched, shouted, and refused to be silent.
The pressure grew.
Laws cracked.
Cities in the North changed.
They didn't depend on slavery the same way. They could afford to listen.
But the South—
The South refused.
They declared they were no longer part of Velanon.
They wanted slavery expanded.
They wanted white dominance written into future centuries.
War ignited.
Visual: Cannons roaring. Smoke covering fields like fog. Bodies piled atop bodies. Rivers turned dark red. The smell of iron, sweat, mud, and fire all tangled into one.
The Northern Union Army and the Southern Army clashed across the nation.
And then—
At last—
We were freed.
Visual: Screams of victory. People raising mugs, collapsing in tears, hugging strangers. Smoke clearing under sunlight for the first time in years.
But freedom was not peace.
We were asked to join the Union Army.
We fought beside them.
Bled beside them.
And when the Southern Army finally surrendered—
They declared us free by law.
Yet…
We were not allowed to live together.
Visual: Two water fountains. One clean. One rusted.
Two schools. Two lines. Two doors.
Two realities.
They separated hospitals, doctors, work, homes.
They said:
"White and Black cannot coexist. This is the only way peace remains."
Even after the chains were broken—
They still looked down on us.
The sky continues to rain.
As if the world still hasn't forgiven itself.