LFME-S.2

SCENE (II) — NEWYORKGRAD, USA, 2025 CE

The Millennium Theatre Hostage Crisis explodes into brutality with military precision. Within minutes, women and children are herded out, diplomats and officials seized, bound, and laced with explosives that glint like festive nightmares. Resistance is crushed quickly—screams fading into muffled sobs, then silence.

Heavily armed attackers with glitching, unnatural masks storm the venue mid-show, transforming a cultural landmark into a slaughterhouse. A diplomat’s skull cracks under a pistol’s handle. Any protest earns a shattered jaw, a broken nose, or worse. Whispers of pleas echo between the sobs and gunfire.

Outside, the NYPD scrambles to contain the chaos. Inside, the hostages—over 800 of them—are stripped of status, speech, and dignity. Those who try to speak are gagged and beaten. A woman—calm, deadly—issues ultimatums: withdraw law enforcement, or executions begin. They demand Israel open its borders and cease fire in Gaza, or bodies will start dropping every half hour.

The world watches, horrified and helpless, as the terrorists release videos of their demands. Inside, horror grows hour by hour. A man is executed off-camera. Another shot while trying to flee. The air thickens with blood and dread.

Negotiations stretch into days. But diplomacy fails. The NYPD makes a desperate gamble, flooding the theatre with odorless gas. Chaos erupts—shots, screams, and then a series of deafening explosions. Fire consumes the building. Over 800 lives vanish in smoke and rubble—hostages, attackers, innocents.

When the dust settles, it’s carnage. Bodies charred and unrecognizable. The media calls it the Millennium Theatre Hostage Crisis, second only to 9/11 in death toll. The Arab world names it more fittingly: the Newyorkgrad Christmas Massacre.

Two of the attackers survived. Both now walk free, under the protection of foreign passports.

Nothing changed in Gaza. Nothing changed in Israel. Except the body count.