Episode One

At a moment's notice, a single bullet could be fired, not to end a man's life, but to open a gap in the fabric of history, where blood becomes politics, and death serves as a gateway to reprogram a nation. The question changes from who has fallen to who rises from the rubble. Blood is not merely spilled; invisible doors open to change history, and in an instant, the world almost witnessed an event that could have shifted the balance, not just within America but at the level of the entire global system.

We do not seek to conjure a police-like imagination but to dismantle reality as it is, through a sharp question: What if the assassination attempt on Donald Trump succeeded? Who would control the vacuum left behind? Would America remain as we know it, or would it transform into a softer, more dominant empire?

When Thomas Matthew Crooks, a young man in his twenties, raised his AR-15 rifle from the rooftop of a building in Butler, Pennsylvania, and fired at Donald Trump, he was not alone in stepping into the minefield of American politics. A hidden, invisible hand was monitoring, testing, and rearranging the chessboard, as it always does.

Imagine if the bullet hit its mark; Trump falls, and in that moment, the body of the man who occupied America and the world collapses. The country spirals into chaos unlike previous assassinations, as the issue no longer concerns just a president but a transforming system. Here, the deep state as we know it no longer exists—the one residing in the halls of the Pentagon and the CIA—but a new version emerges: digital networks, data empires, and soft armies that do not fire bullets but reprogram the consciousness of nations through screens.

In the moment following his death, the Republican Party machine would enter a state of alert, not only to seek an electoral alternative but to contain the emotional impact that would sweep through a base that sees the man as a symbol of confrontation with the establishment, perhaps even a means to overturn it. Choosing a successor would not only involve considerations of competence but also the ability to embody Trump's character in the imagination of the grassroots. The party would likely gravitate towards a figure that has a symbolic representational strength for Trump's rhetoric rather than profound administrative weight, perhaps someone from the populist wing or closer to Christian nationalist currents that resonate with its base.

However, the paradox is that his absence would not diminish Republican prospects; it might enhance them. The man, throughout his political life, was divisive—alienating many moderates, even traditional Republicans. Yet, his sudden death, especially in an assassination attempt, could unify the party around him as a symbol, transforming his campaign into what would resemble a national emotional movement. We have seen in American history how Martin Luther King became an icon in just a moment of gunfire.

It could even create an unprecedented turning point, reshaping political discourse within a wave of overwhelming emotion. American history, as seen in the cases of Lincoln or Kennedy, shows that the assassination of leaders often turns into a moment of national mobilization, transcending divisions and igniting the popular imagination. Instead of the populist movement receding with Trump's death, it could be reframed as a symbolic force, as if America rises again over the corpse of a leader, not to bid farewell, but to embody his project in a form of a legend suitable for long-term political exploitation, potentially even enhancing it.

In this political vacuum, the contours of an invisible battle began to take shape, as if history itself had divided into two wings vying for control of the future: on one side, the classical deep state rooted in bureaucracy, the military, and security institutions, breathing the language of secrecy and closed files; on the other side, the modern deep state manifested in unelected bodies that monitor, classify, and decide through codes and numbers.

We are witnessing a dramatic scene where the past and future intersect, as an old general whispers mobilizing phrases in the corridors of the Pentagon while a new algorithm maps global influence through a data center in Silicon Valley. Each side thinks that that moment of assassination would be their golden opportunity for expansion, as if Trump's body were the launchpad for a new era, where either the system would be restored or re-coded.

Preparing to return to the scene are the intelligence, military institutions, and traditional decision-making circles, but in a hidden battle with the modern deep state represented by multinational tech companies, artificial intelligence platforms, and giant data centers. This transformation that America is witnessing today—from hard power to smart power, from armies to algorithms—would not be negated by Trump's death; rather, it would most likely slow down or take a different form.

Perhaps, the tech giants would seek to fill the void and entirely reshape the political discourse, making America more pragmatic in its alliances and more decisive in defining its enemies and allies based on economic interests rather than historical alliances.

Dr. Mahmoud Abbas