Previous episode here.

/u/bloodycontrary woke to the muffled sound of distant waves and a sea breeze. He cracked open an eye, and saw the ghosts of last night's festivities sprawled out before him. An upside-down slice of pizza. Abandoned roaches. Enough packs of Starmix to kill Adam many times over.

Even the figure appeared to be suffering. It still didn't seem to have legs as such, and hovered in the corner, but was slumped and dozing, puffing away on its vape in an effort to restore itself as close to the land of the living as, presumably, it could get.

The train carriage really was a mess; but outside the scene was different. Gone was the carefree liberal paradise they'd seen in Gloucester, and they were returned to something more like the horrors they experienced in Cambridge and Manchester.

Only it was ever so slightly different.

"I know we were monumentally caned last night," /u/bloodycontrary croaked, "but I don't think we went so far as to make the outside world grey and flat?"

The figure started. Apparently it was on its way to a restive slumber.

"Oh, yeah, we moved," it said as he glided, somehow unsteadily, to the door.

"Welcome to Newquay."

/u/bloodycontrary tottered over and saw that his perception wasn't wrong; nor did the windows deceive him. The outside really was grey. Drabness infected everything in sight. The sun was at its zenith, but still the sea did not sparkle. What should have been green exhibited only monochrome depression. Even the feel of the breeze and the scene of the air was dull, like an old attic or disused corner of a university library.

"I'm pretty sure Newquay isn't always like this," /u/bloodycontrary said, suddenly unsure of himself.

"No," the figure replied. "Something bad has happened here, and we need to find out what."

The two stepped down, not onto a platform, but directly onto the track this time. /u/bloodycontrary stumbled and swore as the stones gave way beneath his feet, but the figure, as usual, had no trouble adjusting to terrain that, in fairness, it couldn't touch.

They walked serenely along the track for ten minutes, before the figure ducked stopped. On either side two barriers blocked a road, and two light gantries sat moodily, all potential for colour drained entirely by whatever this World is.

A level crossing.

"Here we can see two effects of one particular ideology," the figure said. "What do you see over there?" The figure reached out an arm and /u/bloodycontrary shivered as once again he revealed a gnarled and oily finger.

Sitting, rocking back and forth on the road, was a young man. Not very old, and apparently bearing no marks of the sort off ill-treatment that causes a public mental breakdown. /u/bloodycontrary and the figure walked over, /u/bloodycontrary a little more cautiously, but driven by curiosity. Nothing else here really seemed to live, but this figure was giving it a good go.

"Who is he?" /u/bloodycontrary enquired.

"This is Yukub," the figure replied. "And there is nothing we can do for him."

As they got closer to the barrier, they could make out the mutterings.

"Is this ideology? What is ideology? Is this Real?" They noticed that Yukub was not only rocking on the spot, but twitching uncontrollably, until he suddenly exclaimed, retching, "Foucault, Foucault."

/u/bloodycontrary looked at the figure with his eyes raised. The figure peered back from under its hood. "This young man doesn't know what's real anymore. He's spent so much time with conservatives, he doesn't know what is right and what is wrong. What is good and what is bad. He has no basic analytic functions, and occasionally thinks he himself does not truly exist. He keeps himself sane with the idea that, beyond this World, there is a real World, a Real, where things make sense and where he can have basic agency.

"Believe it or not, he's one of the lucky ones."

/u/bloodycontrary stared at Yukub, mouth agog. Then Yukub stared at him. "Are you, a-a-are you the Other?" He stood up with surprising speed. "Is that you?" He demanded. Then his eyes lost focus, and he sat down again. "No. No, you do not pass your barrier."

The figure was already floating away, toward the other barrier, where a man stood. He wore a sharp, black suit, dark as pure carbon, perversely standing out among the greyness. His hands were clasped behind his back, and despite a weak, chinless face his head was held high.

"Who are you?" /u/bloodycontrary asked.

"I am the conservative," it replied. "And we have won."

"You've... won? Won what?" /u/bloodycontrary said.

"Everything. Do you see any challengers? Except the one to whom you spoke a moment ago. But he is lost; we scorched the Earth on which most people stood long ago," it said with a distinct air of pomposity.

"Why?"

"To win. Winning is all that matters. It isn't about means, or ends, or ethics, morals or judgments. So, what's the easiest way to win? Ensure there is nobody to play."

/u/bloodycontrary didn't quite know what to say to this, so the figure intervened. "What this man is trying to say - I think his name is James - is that conservativism has no real goal, no concept of the good, no idea of pluralistic societies or even the human condition. These are arbitrary things, and all are ultimately signs of weakness. Because the goal is simply, as he says, to win."

"But that's fucking stupid," /u/bloodycontrary spat, "What even is the point of a society if not to make it easier for people to live the good life?"

"You miss the point," the figure continued. "To a conservative that is not a concern. They have no concept of a good life. Well, individual conservatives do, but it's based entirely on their own selfish considerations and those of their friends.

"How do you think this World ended up like this. Grey, morose, empty, chilling? All life, all value, all things that are beautiful have been removed from it, because those things would surely stop the conservatives from winning. And this is a part of the World previously renowned for beauty. It is a shame.

"And you can see the effect in that young man, Yukub. He was a conservative once. Why he didn't leave to oppose them, we'll never know. As you can see, it's driven him mad. He even takes Lacan seriously now. He self-medicates with postmodernism because he can't stand the World he didn't oppose."

The conservative did not respond to any of this. Or indicate any opinion. I suppose, though /u/bloodycontrary, he doesn't need to have a view anymore. He's reached his end game.

The figure motioned the pair away from the barrier and back to the train.

"Is this World actually possible?" /u/bloodycontrary asked, his voice cracking.

The figure didn't respond for a while, then said, "Literally? I don't know. Creatively, spiritually, philosophically? Oh, I think that could happen. Conservatives have already run roughshod in your World, have they not?"

/u/bloodycontrary nodded.

"Well, it is a matter of time. It would be a damn shame if Cornwall and Devon were to go down that road when better options are obviously available.

"Come," he said with an air of finality, "we have a lot more to see."

M: CHARACTERS AND NAMES IN THIS STORY MAY OR MAY NOT REFER TO REAL PEOPLE AND IF THOSE PEOPLE GET IRRITATED I SHALL CLAIM THAT I MADE THE CHARACTERS UP AND ANY LIKENESS OR LACK THEREOF IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL