Every few years your country identifies a prophecied Chosen One to sit on the imperial throne and lead the army in war.

The first duty of a chosen one is to pick their supporters – a funny person, a gifted person, and a mentor. All three roles are death sentences. Being the Chosen One is not much better. Most of them die within six months.

You know a dark secret though. The title of Chosen One is anything but special. The Book of the Prophecy of the Chosen is the national census with a fancy cover on it. Being chosen just means that the People’s Assembly would not be upset if that subject was stabbed to death. This is why most Chosen Ones pay few taxes and claim many benefits. The poor and working-class, effectively.

Recently you let slip that you knew the truth. Now the word is that you are the next Prophesied Chosen one. Maybe if you let it be known that you would pick your pick supporters from the heads of the People’s Assembly you might live through this. Maybe. The odds are not good though.