Night in Vancouver. The studio lights are low. Rain streaks down the glass.
Solid Snake steps from the shadows, voice calm but certain.
Across from him stands Nelly Furtado, watching him carefully.
SNAKE:
You asked me if I think they exist.
He pauses.
SNAKE (firm):
Yes. The Illuminati do exist.
The word hangs in the air.
NELLY:
People say that like it’s a punchline.
SNAKE:
It’s not a punchline. It’s history.
He sets a thin, worn book on the table.
SNAKE:
The Bavarian Illuminati were founded in 1776. Adam Weishaupt. Suppressed on paper in the 1780s. The old Catholic Encyclopedia describes them as a secret society that aimed to reshape the world through reason, infiltration, and long-term strategy. Degrees. Oaths. Hidden influence.
He steps closer.
SNAKE:
Groups like that don’t just vanish. They go underground. They adapt.
NELLY:
And the prophecy?
Snake’s eyes narrow.
SNAKE:
Every secret order believes it’s part of something older than itself. An ancient plan. A destiny written in symbols and rituals. Some call it enlightenment. Some call it the age of reason. Others whisper about a coming era — a world unified under one philosophy.
He glances toward the rain-soaked skyline.
SNAKE:
When organizations believe they’re fulfilling prophecy, they justify anything. Influence. Manipulation. Cultural engineering.
NELLY:
You’re saying they’re moving through music? Through culture?
SNAKE:
Power doesn’t need armies anymore. It needs narratives. Symbols. Timing.
He looks directly at her.
SNAKE:
You said the Illuminati exist. I believe you. Secret societies have always existed. The question isn’t whether they’re real. It’s what they believe they’re building.
A low rumble of thunder.
SNAKE:
Ancient prophecies are dangerous things. The moment someone believes they’re chosen to fulfill one… they stop asking whether they should.
Silence.
NELLY (softly):
So what do I do?
Snake adjusts his bandana.
SNAKE:
Stay sovereign. Know your own story. Prophecy only works if people play their assigned roles.
He turns toward the door.
SNAKE:
And I don’t follow scripts written by secret societies.
The rain keeps falling.