I Live in America, and I, Roosevelt, Don't Eat Beef!

My name is Roll Roosevelt. In 1934, I died—just one year after President Franklin D. Roosevelt took office for his second term. I thought I had perished on the eve of America's true rise. But when I opened my eyes again, there was no Great Depression, no Prohibition—only a version of the United States I could not recognize. A power structure that had redefined the nation in ways I never imagined. And me? A man long buried by history. I watched as the nation wielded capital like a scythe against its own people, drawing a harvest line that reaped lives without mercy. This was not the America Roosevelt had envisioned. History erased me. Time forgot me. Yet I awoke with a strange ability—a single thread that lets me control others. This time, I refuse to fade into silence. I will step into the light and redefine this country on my own terms. In the end, they would call me the mad dog that capitalists cursed, the tide of public fury, and the blade-wielder of the Union—Roll Roosevelt.