This scene offers a deliciously absurd re-encounter with the world of Antazonia. Unlike the tense political underground of Book I, we now find a realm run by a Queen who spends her days reclined on candy-strewn cushions, glued to violent computer games and spoon-fed chocolate cream. Her royal chamber resembles a gamer’s cave, her subjects mere background noise.

It’s a brilliant satire on detached power, decadence, and the trivialization of politics. Anne, who once helped overthrow the regime, now finds the new leader disinterested and hostile. The Queen doesn’t even remember her! And when the topic turns to revolution, she mistakes it for a video game.

But beneath the farce lies a deeper note. Anne isn’t just here to reminisce—she needs a piece of the shrinking mushroom again. Only the Queen can activate its magic… by chewing on it. The setup is ludicrous, but that’s precisely the point: real transformation often depends on the whims of absurd systems and grotesque figures.

What’s more, the Queen’s reaction—expelling Anne and threatening Ben—feels almost personal. As if the revolutionary past is something to be buried, not honored. This scene mocks not just excess and narcissism, but also the tendency of those in power to rewrite history, to erase those who once helped build the present they now squander.

And yet, as Anne watches the Queen rant from her throne-bed, she sees something else: fear. Not of rebellion, but of responsibility. The Queen is not just indulgent—she’s hiding. And perhaps, in that childish fury, Anne recognizes a shadow of herself. The confrontation becomes not only political, but personal: a mirror held up to what she could become if she gave up trying.