Returning [Open]

by **Milograd** » Sat Apr 02, 2011 9:09 pm

Lights flood the room...and what was once a completely dark and empty room had become flooded in light and an erie shadow. The shadow...along with a deathening silence, only added to the sense of fear that it drew. Large and empty, the room was completely empty except for a highly equipped camera crew and a podium. The leaky ceiling dripped, and a little puddle began to form on the ground. Drip...drop...drip...drop...drip...it was so quiet. The camera crew fiddled with equipment and tangled themselves in different colored wires and gadgets. The erieness of the room only grew...and the bright lights only made the room seem so empty...but at the same time freakishly alive somehow.

The water continued to drip from the ceiling...drip...drop...drip...drop. A door creaked in the corner of the room, and a shadowy figure entered. Once focused on by the light...the face was made clear; and the room went silent. It was the Seiku Tadami...alone, in a darkly colored cloak. Never would you see the leader of The Sessho Imperiate alone; being so human. Yet, as he walked towards the camera crew centered in the room, you'd swear he was an ordinary citizen. At this point, the erieness was almost unbearable.

Tadami approached the camera crew and asked in a calm and soft voice;

"Is it hooked up?"

The entire crew nodded quietly, unsure of what to say...completely speachless. Tadami turned to his right and looked towards the podium. He slowly approached, with the utmost of grace. His arm reached into his cloak and pulled out a crunched up ball of paper. Gazing at the paper, he twiddled his hands and layed it flat over the podium. After doing so, he gestured towards the camera crew...

"Are we ready?"

Once again, they nodded quietly, and signaled the seconds before rolling would begin. Tadami then straigtened his back and stood tall, as to give an imposing image. Suddenly, he no longer seemed so human. Ten...Nine...Eight...Seven...Six...Five...Four........Three...Two.............One.....

"Today, I present a glorious announcement to the world...to the weak. This message shall flood the world wide web, and shall make our bold statement known. This message shall inform the weak of the return of their overlords...and shall inform the mighty of the return of a most feared rival. This message marks our return...our uprising from non-existance. This message is a re-introduction to many, and an introduction to those who are yet to know of us. For the masses of the world, I need not give our name, for you have already spoken our name many times before during times of fear. However, to those who don't know of us, allow me to introduce our entity; We are the Conglomerate.

For the enemies of our past, may you flee in fear as a result of our return. May you remember why we are who we are, and why those who have opposed us cease to exist. Remember your fallen brothers, and remember that you shall share their fate. Look at our filthy hands...do you see all that blood? Remember what we do; remember who we are. Remember why we are The Conglomerate.

A glorious nolstagia overcomes you...this is to be expected. Our mark can be found everywhere you look, and our stories our known all throughout this broken world. Years and years of reigning over the world has its effects, and one of them is the reputation of our entity. And let it be known to all who oppose us, you shall share the same fate as the rest of your kind. We make no exception to this, and let this be a warning to all of you; as it is the only one you are going to get.

The fear that engulfs thy is infectious, and it will spread like a virus. Exponentially, the news of our return shall spread, as will the fear of the righteous. This is education, and hopefully all of those who hear this glorious will act in an educated manner. The best advice that I personally can give to the world is to submit thyself, for this is the only true method of a forever survival.

The Conglomerate has returned...we have returned. Once again we shall grace the world stage with the utmost of grace and power. Once again we shall liberate the world of the unpure and filthy. Once again we shall rise above all else. Once again...The Conglomerate will reign over the unworthy...

The numerous accounts of our demise are untrue and are lies. The Conglomerate's hiatus was a temporary event necessary towards our reorginization. That reorginazation has been completed.

This is not a declaration of intent, nor should it be seen as one. This is a message to the world; a warning and an annoucement. The announcement is simple; The Conglomerate has returned. The warning is that all who oppose us shall be dealt with by the powerful fist of the righteous and the mighty.

The Conglomerate has returned...may you all act in your best interests. Sei Sessho."

The camera quit rolling and Tadami let out a large sigh of relief. He hadn't made an address like that in a while, and he didn't feel like having to do it again. The heavy lights dimmed, and Tadami approached the camera crew oncemore.

"How did that come off?"

The lead operator stepped forward; "It came out well. I don't see the need for a second take."

"Wonderful. You may submit that to the table-code. Following this, you may make this all public, thus revealing our message to the world."

***

Upon returning to the Emperor's Palace, Tadami was overrun with anxiety and anxiousness. He was worried as to how his announcement would come off to the world, and he wondered how long it would take for fellow brothers of The Conglomerate to present similar messages...if they did it at all. The whole thing was rather nervwracking, and Tadami had never made an address of that nature before. Perhaps an insecurity, he didn't like presenting himself on such a large stage such as the internet. However, what he had done was necessary.

Tadami sat at his desk...waiting. Would he get a phone call first? Or maybe an email? Or maybe he would hear about it on the news...so he turned on the television. No word of it yet, so he continued to sit silently. He knew that he shouldn't expect a response for a bit, since he wasn't even sure if the video had gone into circulation yet. But he knew he would hear of it eventually.

The waiting was unbearable...Tadami couldn't stay still. He couldn't help but fidget in his chair, although he tried to stay strong against the temptation. Patience was a virute...but how long could one wait under such anxiety? Seconds seemed like eternities in their own, and Tadami already was having trouble staying awake. How long would he have to wait before there was any sort of response?

Laying back in his chair, he began to drift into sleep. It was unusual to feel so anxious and nervous, and yet feel so confident in your strength. The Conglomerate had returned...and Sessho was once again a proud member of the entity. The thought made Tadami comfortable...more comfortable than he had been prior to the Conglomerate's return. For a while...he felt as if Sessho had become vunerable. But now he knew...The Imperiate was safe.

Finally Tadami fell to sleep. But there were no dreams in his mind...only thoughts of "What will I awake to tomorrow?". The Conglomerate had returned...and the responses were sure to be interesting...

by **Tergnitz** » Sun Apr 03, 2011 3:46 am

"A blind man cannot see the beauty of nature, yet he also cannot see it when nature burns around him."

It was a dreary, chilling morning. The first vestiges of sunlight which would be appearing at this hour were blocked entirely by ominous, dark clouds which gave the world a cruel, brooding appearance. A rolling crack of thunder passed over Michael as he walked down the empty concrete sidewalk. Pausing for a moment, he glanced skyward and stoically watched the play of the lightning in the distance for several seconds before moving on.

In his extensive travels to some of the most barbaric and backward hellholes in the world, Michael had heard many different pagan shamans and heathen priests attempt to justify the existence of lightning. One in particular had always stood out prominently in his memory, a polytheistic witch doctor from a tribe of natives deep in the jungles of the South. The man had claimed that the flash of lightning was the gleam of the swords of the Ancient Gods as they struck one another’s blades, the boom of the thunder was their raised voices as they fought for the fate of the world in the sky above the storm. Logically, Michael knew that the man had spouted nothing but superstitious nonsense at best, heretical ramblings at worst, despite this; he could appreciate the majesty and power which the image conveyed.

The soundwave of another crack rolled over him as he rounded the corner at the end of the street. He surveyed the sight in front of him, an empty four-way intersection similar in design and build to innumerable others not only within the city, but around Tergnitz. What marked this street out as different, as unique, was its name – Tanzis Road.

Across the entire Dominion, this particular street name was only used once. It was a rather odd fact which no doubt, only a few if any of the Dominion’s citizens knew. Michael had only discovered this fact several hours ago and was stilling unsure whether it was simply a fluke, or indicative or something much darker.

Clutching his heavy leather coat tightly around his body, Michael pressed on towards his destination, a vacant bus shelter in the middle of the street. Small droplets of water began to fall out of the sky. These small droplets were soon replaced by a torrent of water pouring down from the heavens. Increasing his pace slightly, the noise of the rain impacting on the road, on buildings and on cars each made a distinct sound. A sound which was increased tenfold due to the enclosed confines of the city, in addition to the fact that this early in the morning, few people were awake, let alone walking through the city’s central business zone.

Michael finally reached his destination and took a seat on the hard, metallic metal bench within the bus shelter. His head was soaked and he could feel water running down his face and back, yet they were only minor discomforts and he did not let them bother him. Within minutes of his arrival, he picked up the distinctive sound of rain impacting on an umbrella; it seemed like his contact had arrived.

The man was roughly in his late fifties, Caucasian with brown hair underneath a bowler hat, yet he lacked any facial hair. He wore an expensive looking business suite, yet the man’s most distinctive feature, the single aspect of his appearance which gave him a memorial quality was his eyes. A dark blue, it seemed as if they each contained an entire world within them.

“This is certainly...unorthodox,” said Michael, pausing as he searched for the right word to begin the conversation as the man unfolded his umbrella and took a seat on the bench to Michael’s left.

“Lord Marshal, I am pleased that you could meet me this morning,” said the man, a thin smile spreading across his face. “I am sure that you are wondering what this is all about.”

“Naturally. It is not every day that someone sends me a proper letter using code-words which have not even entered official usage yet,” said Michael, his tone cold and serious.

“Well then let me cut right to the chase,” said the man, dropping the small routine. “I represent a large entity, one which you would undoubtedly know. Like a phoenix, we have been born from the ashes of the dead and forgotten, and it is time for the Dominion to take her place among our ranks, as she did in times of old.”

“You speak of the Conglomerate,” said Michael in a hushed tone.

“I do. The era of the old Conglomerate may be over, yet the dream which was the Conglomerate lives on. A dream which has been embraced by a new set of nations, nations eager to prove themselves on the world stage and reclaim past glory and prestige,” said the man passionately.

“What of those who abandoned us during the trail?”

"These criminals, of which you speak, do not deserve our respect, nor our pity; for they have committed a grievous crime against not only the Dominion, but the very idea of Pax Conglomerica. Their crime is not corruption, defeatism or cowardice in the face of the enemy; by renouncing their vows of mutual defence, by abandoning their brothers in perhaps the greatest trial seen in the modern era, they have committed the gravest crime of all, betrayal. They betrayed you Lord Marshal, they betrayed us all,” said the man, his words gradually growing softer until they were barely audible.

The two men were silent for a moment, both reflecting on the past and what could have come to pass if only... The thunderstorm outside the shelter had intensified, with torrents of water gushing out of the sky, yet both men were too deep in their thoughts to care, or even notice.

Finally, Michael broke the silence, “Why me? I command the Dominion’s internal security apparatus; I have little influence outside our borders.”

“Come now Lord Marshal,” said the man, standing up from the bench and opening his umbrella. “You are selling yourself short. We know that you are a capable man. We’ve been watching you, and we know that when the time comes, you’ll know what to do,” said the man before walking out of the shelter into the rain.

by **Storm Gard** » Sun Apr 03, 2011 5:03 am

The Conglomerate has returned...may you all act in your best interests. Sei Sessho

Lady Jonna Lin hit a button on the conference table before her, and the television screen, which had been tuned to the EAU News Network, flickered once before falling into the darkness of infinity. With a reserved air of calm, Lin's lips pressed into a thin line as she turned to the other individuals in the conference room. Although the opulent table in the center of the room could have easily seated at least two dozen people, the eight heads of the Union were the only occupants of the large conference room. Separated by a sleek, black table, their thoughts seemed to echo off each other and the orange, wooden panel walls that surrounded them.

Tall, beautiful, and graceful, Lin turned from the television to read the expression of her colleagues, but, like her, the others had put on their best poker face, a mask which had been perfected over the years to rob the face of the human emotion. And like her, the other were clan heads (of course the eight individuals in question were infinitely more influential compared to her), and most of them were dressed quite formally in suits that likely cost more than a small car. And like her, the others had just finished watching the broadcast made by Sessho Imperiate. And as Deputy Manager of Foreign Affairs it was her job to give these eight men and women a functional and realistic response strategy. Problem was she didn't have a response strategy, since her boss had effectively blindsided her with the situation and thrown her to the wolves.

A single voice piped up the darkened room, and inadvertently saved Lin from her predicament.

“Well, it's about time they started reasserting themselves on the world stage.” Said the young man sitting at the head of the table, whom she immediately recognized at the lord of the Yang household, Allen Yang. He was lean, almost thin but seemed to possess a wiry, youthful strength in the way he carried himself which instantly distinguished himself from his compatriots whose physical forms were less than ideal. Another feature that separated him from the others was the military uniform he was wearing in contrast to their ostentatious garments, although with the amount of medals and awards festooned on the uniform he was no less eye catching. Of course, what lent credence to the young man's words was not his personal achievements, but the small insignia on his collar that denoted his position as the current patriarch of the Yang household.

“Indeed. However, I am concerned that it is the Sessho Imperiate making the statement, not our Brewdomian or Abruzian brethren who by all rights should be one leading the charge to reassert the influence of the Conglomerate over the world.” Lord Jiang, a clan patriarch who appeared to be in his late sixties, spoke.

“Heh. Does it really matter who opened the can of worms? The main thing is that it has been opened and now we have to deal with it. Lady Lin, you are the expert on this do you have any suggestions?” Lord Yang asked, his voice twinkling with amusement at Jonna's obvious discomfort.

“W-well, despite our relative unfamiliarity with the Sessho Imperiate, they are still one of our Conglomerate affliates and thus they should have an underlying credence to their words. I mean the Abruzians and Brewdomians rarely stay their bloodlust unless there's a reason. Thus, I believe we can safely support this act by the Sessho Imperiate with a statement of our own.” Jonna concluded confidently now that an action plan had managed to entrench itself firmly into her consciousness.

Yang smiled, he absolutely loved women that could adapt quickly. “Very well, it sounds like an effective course of action. I take it there are no objections from the rest of the council?”

The room stayed silent.

“Perfect, now I think it would be best if I adjourned this meeting, I am sure all of you here have important activities to get back to, so I bid you good day my esteemed lords and ladies.”

The room cleared with remarkable speed as the various oligarchs hurried out to attend to matters of personal importance, leaving only Jonna and Yang in the room.

“Lady Lin, would it too troublesome if I asked you to handle this matter personally? Since you have the most extensive knowledge of the situation at current, I don't trust anyone else to handle it competently.”

“Umm, I would be honored but there are definitely more qualified people than myself that can handle this situation.”

“Problem is I don't know their capabilities, but I know yours and I can trust in it. So please?”

“I-I would be honored sir.” Jonna stuttered slightly, stunned at the level of trust invested in her by one of the most powerful men in the Union.

“Good, now would you like to get a cup of tea with me? I know of a fantastic place in the High City and unlike my colleagues I want to know more about the situation.” Allen asked, flashing one of his most charming smiles at the young woman.

Open Message From The East Asian Union

We are. Through our resolute determination. We have returned. Though our boots shall yet again drag upon this base Earth, we have come. We are the second coming of the Conglomerate. Inheritor of their boundless might. Your nations have existed so far at our pleasure and patience, and that, as shall your works of civilization, shall now come to an end. Cities shall fall upon upon our passing. Songs shall be sung of what we leave in our wake. We are the Fury of Heaven. Avatars of might. We Are the Conglomerate. We have Returned.

by **Abruzi** » Sun Apr 03, 2011 7:00 pm

The ashen gray skies of Utopia were the same as they had been for decades now, her buildings were the same metal and concrete things they had been for decades now, her people were timid servants to a vast machine that ran on blood and servitude as they had been for decades now, yet something here in this city was different, something was not locked in the embrace of Neo Bolshevism and thus prone to change. Change was dangerous, it could reduce the greatest of nations to mere ruins and plunge the most noble of ideals into the sea of debauchery that was human nature. That variable prone to change was the Conglomerate Superstate.

The Neo Bolshevist State and the Conglomerate were tightly tied, while coming relatively late in the game the people of Abruzi had quickly found that the Conglomerate elevated them above the masses. While technically the Neo Bolshevist Union did not recognize any government or foreign entity that was not their own, a rare exception was made to part of the Conglomerate. The State did acknowledge that the Conglomerate Nations were their brothers but at the same time when referring to an individual State they continued to claim that they were mere Provinces in the Neo Bolshevist Union. This mix of fact and fiction could and should be applied to the new situation concerning the Conglomerate, for all intents and purposes the Conglomerate had never fractured and even now it was still the most powerful organization in existence. Or at least that was what the average Comrade Worker or Proletarian was told.

The only body of the Neo Bolshevist Union that did in fact know of the Sesso Imperiate’s address was the Ministry of Contentment. The Ministry, dark suited ashen faced automatons in many cases. Their job to root out both the other thinker and the heretic demanded a lack of emotion and their constant manipulation of the facts demanded in some cases a lack of thought. All were loyal to a fault, loyal to the State which provided, loyal to the Party which directed, and loyal to the Gospodar Lubanja who rewarded, they unlike all the other branches however had a fourth loyalty, loyalty to Rurik Siloviki.

Rurik was an angry man, a very angry man. He had because of the actions of the White Abruzians lost his legs and now was confined to a wheelchair. He shared the facial features of his father as well as his steely gray eyes and voice that was about as comforting as a cloud of ash. There was a reason why he and his father both were known as the Ashen Tsar of Abruzi. He sat in his office, it was small and orderly reflecting his almost obsessive outlook regarding control and order. On the far wall a picture of his wife sat next to a picture of Comrades Lenin, Stalin and his Father. A tiny shrine to the Gospodar sat in the corner and a sleek telescreen across the room. A fine inlaid door led out of his office and almost as if on cue a knock sounded.

Rurik sighed and adjusted his tie before simply saying,

" Vvedite , tovarishch ".

“Enter, Comrade.”

A thin pale faced man entered, he stood before the desk and fearfully said,

" Kopiya - tovarishch ministr , vy prosili bumagi i voshodyashchem kody komissariata inostrannyh del , k yugu ot komissariata Adres i kommyunike , Maloĭ Upravleniya Komissariata Konglomerat del ".

“C-c-comrade Minister, you asked for paper and uplink codes to the Commissariat of Foreign Affairs, Sub-Commissariat of Address and Communiqués, Minor Office of the Commissariat of Conglomerate Affairs.”

"Nu i chto tovarishch ? U vas yestʹ moi bumagi i kody ?

“What of it Comrade? Do you have my paper and codes?”

The thin man paused and gingerly set a folder filled to the brim with white lined paper on the Comrade Minister’s desk. He then said,

" Tovarishch , kod : Polina "

“Comrade, the code is: Pauline”

" Spasibo, tovarishch . Pozhaluĭsta, skazhite cheloveku za stolom , chto vy Uslovie shestʹdesyat dva . "

“Thank you Comrade. Please tell the man at the desk that you are Condition Sixty Two.”

The thin man nodded and departed. Rurik pondered for a moment, did that man know that he was about to have himself killed? Was it necessary? He almost considered calling the desk and ordering the guard to stay his hand, then he remembered that this Comrade Lower Party Member in question knew a sensitive bit of information, for that he would have to be eliminated. Within the Neo Bolshevist Union only the Upper Party was permitted to handle sensitive materials, the lower party had a well defined place and this man had overstepped his bounds. The Ministry whispered a soft prayer to the Lubanja, the man’s death would please him greatly.

Turning back to the matter at hand, he flipped open the folder and began to write. He wrote for several minutes and then gazed over what he had given life to. Scowling at the metaphor, he knew that by giving life to something he would have to kill something later. The equilibrium must be maintained for the glory of the Cult of the Gospodar Lubanja.

"Граждане и народов мира, вы должны считать себя безопасно на некоторое время. Вы должны рассматривать себя могучий и изолированы от разрушительных беспорядков планеты. Вы должны рассматривать себя интеллектуальные действительно за то, что выжили роспуска Конгломерат сверхдержава. Вы можете Теперь рассмотрим сами, не так. Мы вернулись, мы цеплялись за жизнь, и теперь мы должны обеспечить, чтобы наше имя будет кричал миллионы, как они вошли в область Lubanja.

Мы должны обеспечить, чтобы не только Конгломерат восстановить статус раз состоялся, но она также построить себе башню из черепов в другие области, чтобы конкурировать с могучей столба смерти господаря сам сидит на. Славные международной революции зачисток никогда года, продвижении по воле авангарде государств и вооруженных пролетарских. Нам было дано честь возглавлять авангард авангард и при этом должны разбить вашу эксплуататорского государства и международной буржуазии.

Наши номера много, наши пушки и наши могучие жажда крови ненасытный. Наша миссия проста, Нео большевизма должны расширяться, он должен обратиться к освобождению угнетенных Пролетарская везде. Он должен честь Lubanja со смертью, он должен строить себя гора черепов так что в конце времени он должен быть среди Host Gospodar's. Он исполняет все его цели, погоды он должен делать это через может неисчерпаемой армии Союза или через тонкости дипломатии.

Мы оставим выбор для международного сообщества. В одной стороны, мы считаем, боевое оружие и молитва к Gospodar Lubanja. В других мы проводим договора и штрафа наконечником ручка подписать его. Выберите, как ваши мастера взойдет, но выбрал хорошо, потому что, когда она направлена Neo большевистской Союз не может быть остановлен. "

Finding it was good, Rurik entered the codeword into his computer and uploaded it to the Ministry of Contentment’s archives and mainframe. The speech as well as footage of him giving it would be broadcast on every known channel and radio frequency the Neo Bolshevist Union had access to in twelve hours, just long enough to organize the Party Rally where he would speak. They wanted to make sure the world knew that the Conglomerate, was back.

by **Malikov** » Sat Apr 09, 2011 8:22 am

"I don't like this"
Jessica DeBoné, President of the Grand United Peoples of Malikov, paced fitfully behind her desk. The soft lighting of the room threw her face into a mask of shadow and worry. General Poplinski, the battle scarred right-hand man to the President, stood in the shadows behind her, his hawk-like eyes observing the young aide who was currently delivering the President a report on the Conglomerate.

"Not one bit," Jessica continued. "We haven't even become fully organized yet. We don't know everyone who has followed from the Conglomerate, we're still in the process of determining the status of two hopefuls, we haven't made final determinations on changes to the internal workings of the Phoenix. The Phoenix Conglomeration is strong, but we made a great many enemies as the Conglomerate. ODECON would jump at the chance to sweep us away before we've solidified ourselves."

General Poplinski dismissed the young aide with a nod of his head, before stepping out of the shadows in which he'd concealed himself.
"Miss President, if I may. This movement by Milograd may appear to be rash, but is it really? Like you so prudently pointed out, the NeoCong is still in the process of forming itself. We are on the inside, and we ourselves aren't sure of the status of certain former Conglomerate members. Keep in mind that ODECON has not waged an open war with the Conglomerate for a very long time. To do so now would invite the hostilities of an entire slew of nation, likely the whole fist of the former Conglomerate. We may have been officially dissolved, but our bonds go deeper then that."

Jessica paused in her pacing, considering what the General was saying. She chose her next words carefully.
"Yes. What you say is true... to an extent."

Poplinski, sensing an opening, charged forward.
"What's more, Miss President, is that this announcement could quicken the steps of Phoenix bureaucracy. We both know how inefficient a process becomes when multiple nations are involved in the thought process. The threat of attack, however, will force decisions to be made. The quibbling that normally accompanies such decisions will vanish."

Jessica bit her lip, tapping a finger impatiently on her arm.
"And if the decisions are poor ones?"

Poplinski gave a charming smile, though Jessica was unable to see it with her back turned towards him.
"Then we can go back and change those decisions. After we've solidified the power of the Phoenix Conglomeration, and protected ourselves from foreign advancements."

Jessica's foot began to tap, the clicking of her heel muffled by the carpet of her office.
"Prepare an international message. Make sure that everyone knows where we stand in this matter. Write it yourself, this matter is too important to be botched by some half-assed speech writer. I trust you already have something in mind? Good. Then get to it."

Official Malkovian Communique

TO: The nations of the world
FROM: The Grand United Peoples of Malikov
SUB: The Phoenix Conglomeration
Encryption Level: N/A

The Conglomerate was an international power. No other entity could claim to hold, or exert, as much sway as that old bastion of bone, blood, and iron. To cross paths with the Conglomerate unscathed was nigh impossible. To openly oppose the Conglomerate ensured death.

Though the Conglomerate is now gone, the lasting bonds of brother and sisterhood remain. To attack the Phoenix Conglomerate is to invoke the protection still abiding in the lasting bands of steel, forged through a lifetime of integration with our brothers and sisters. Seek not our destruction for the crimes of the past, but seek our friendship for our promise of a prosperous future. Indeed, numbers of the Conglomerate had an appetite for pain and suffering. But look closer! Who among the Phoenix Conglomeration holds such thoughts afore front? Seek not! Your search shall be fruitless, for there are none among the Phoenix that seek to bring you, or anyone else, unearned strife.

Now, if only to stay the slavering beasts of those who have dreamt of this moment since their waking hour, let me speak once more. Should any fool-hardy nation attempt to wage war against the Phoenix Conglomeration, their end shall be swift and painful. For though we are diminished in number, we shall fight ever more fiercely for it. And should the time ever come, when the baying of hounds resides outside our ancient doors, then the Conglomerate will be but a trumpet's call away, and you shall know nought but pain and suffering.

But let us forget thoughts of death, black as it is. Let us turn to the future, a bright beacon at the end of the tunnel. Let us go forth, not as enemies, but as brethren working towards a future of betterment for ourselves, and our kinsmen! Let cooler heads prevail in this time of uncertainty.

- The Grand United Peoples of Malikov

OOC: Too lazy to write something new. Stole from old post in the Pho-Cong thread. Me Gusta.

by **Rethan** » Sun Apr 10, 2011 4:48 pm

Nostalgia hits in the oddest of ways at the strangest of times.

For Dragomyr, a man of the present, there was rarely a time when he looked back on his past. He kept his eyes focused solely on the task at hand, and under his command Rethan was becoming ever more and more militarised. Today, however, he found himself remembering the name of an entity he had encountered years back. A group of dedicated nation states out for only their own benefit, as any proper nation should be. Futile concepts such as morality and divine purpose did not serve to hold back the raw power of the nations Rethan had called its comrades.

Dragomyr took one last look at the ash filled sky, choked black clouds obscuring the sun as the constant industry of Rethan poured its pollutants and bile into the heaven. In the time since the Kraven War, Rethan had managed to rebuild into a military powerhouse only because of the assistance of the organisation which called itself the Conglomerate. Ravaged cities rebuilt and the economy empowered by the goodwill and significant abilities of the members of the superstate, giving Rethan a chance to serve a purpose in the world once more. Over time, however, stagnation and decay had set in. The Conglomerate had collapsed, the founders leaving the temple of international power without its bedrock, and the walls had collapsed. An avalanche, a cascade, a vile retribution on the most noble entity the Rethast had ever come into knowledge of. The Conglomerate did not hide behind a non-existent moral high ground, nor did it idly stand by as rot destroyed the world. The Conglomerate purged the weak, smashing aside lesser state unwilling or unable to conserve their existence.

A state which could defend itself was not a state at all.

But time and stagnation effects all things, and the Conglomerate had collapsed. But whispers now had reached the ears of the Imperator. Whispers of a rebirth, the allegiances of the old Conglomerate were not forgotten and now they banded together beneath a new flag and a new name. The Phoenix Conglomeration. An apt name all things considered. And as the Conglomerate had rebuilt the Nequam, so to would the Nequam rebuild the conglomerate.

The world would burn again, and the diseased decadence of a thousand nation would be tested. Ash would choke the skies as blood soaked the earth and corpses drifted on the tides. It was inevitable. A state which could not protect its citizens was not a state at all. And though the nations of the Conglomerate did not share the ideals of Rethan, Dragomyr knew that history had a bad habit of repeating itself. Rethan's forges burned with fire and steel, outfitting the industrious war machine which kept the Hives safe and the nation immortal. And through this firepower, the world would be tested and only those of suitable fortitude would survive....

Closing the immense doors behind him to the outside world, Dragomyr descended into his private elevator. The box dropped, like a coffin, into the bowels of the Earth below, the labyrinth of bunkers and tunnels which kept the inner workings of the Rethast military safe and invisible to the outside world. Down he plummeted until finally the doors slid open to dark room, steel reinforced concrete walls reflecting what little light could be seen and giving the room a menacing grey overcast. Banners fluttered in a sourceless wind as Dragomyr seated himself at his desk. The table lit up, a massive interactive screen. With a flick of his wrist, Dragomyr pulled a keyboard into position, and began to type. A personal touch this time, was needed....

An Address from the Imperium Nequam

I have watched as the world has slid by, ignoring the plight of a thousand suffering and meaningless states as they venture onwards blindly into the depths of time. So many insignificant states with the audacity to claim they have a right to exist. The right to exist comes only from the ability to fight for that existence, and for too long the world has gone uncleansed. It has stagnated. Millions live in opulent domains, guarded by false promises and greedy leaders. Decadence spreads its cancerous touch, rotten to the very core. But no more. No longer will the world rest untested and unwatched....

The strong survive. Long live the Conglomerate.

by **-Deus-** » Mon Apr 11, 2011 7:35 pm

The Music

I took slow steps, my head throbbing as I took a seat at my desk, squinting my eyes as I looked around, ready to write out the customary message following the so called “rebirth of the Conglomerate.” I will not lie, I am one excited bastard. Daius…only recently joining the ranks of the famed organization, with a great many thing to prove to the others, like a child to its older siblings. Yet I sat their dazed and confused, unable to put words unto the paper and send the message away. I rubbed my forehead, the large, scarring gash in my forehead leaving a small trace of blood on my pale looking fingertip, the purple liquid staining the paper, splattering on it slowly, giving it an eerie look that I no doubt enjoyed. But I stood up slowly, intent on getting this writing done for the evening.

I swayed back and forth, moving towards the speaker phone, grabbing the small metal device quickly, the device almost slipping out of my hand as I brought it to my mouth, pushed a button and whispered out a few words slowly, a crackled noise rippling through the building soon after. Music began to play slowly, the tune immediately giving me inspiration as I dropped into a day dream of stars, planets, twisting galaxies and beautifully crafted vectors, the sight at which I beheld simply breath taking. I…I could hardly write them down if I had tried. However, I moved towards my desk again, stumbling over a few misplaced objects, hardly noticing them as I pushed through to my desk, plopping myself down on the plush black chair.

I looked down at the paper again and smiled devilishly, ready to begin writing. I opened up with the music, slowly moving through it to get to my actual message. It was a beautiful piece…something…something I could never forget if I tried. The music continued to sway in my mind, the tune picking up slight pace every so often, the haunting voices creeping into my soul and washing all the impurities away, chilling my spine just a bit. Deus seemed a happier place all of a sudden, the majestic city seeming…human and perfected. I couldn’t help but feel a small drop of blood drip on the paper as I wrote the final word and shoot up to my feet, dancing slowly to the music, looking at the cityscape of Deus, the amazingly light night view…amazing to say the least. If only it lasted forever...

A Message to The Resurrected

The song is beautiful no? I agree…it touches your soul and warms your heart to hear such beauty. I...I am speechless. Who knew you humans could ever create something so…so touching. Time itself slows down as this song plays and my fear…my anger…my pain all melts away with it. The pits of Leviathan cool over, the people sing songs of praise to go along with the touching tune. Sabrael dances to the music, albeit slowly. And Deus…Deus shines with an unnatural flare. If only I could share it to you all, if only I could send this feeling with this message. Yet the Conglomerate has returned….oh yes the glorious Conglomerate, its hallowed halls once holding honourable names, when humans could live peacefully. Yes,…we must strive to return to those restful times, for the music commands it. Yet, my message is of little concern in that regard.

The Conglomerate will live again, it already lives in the minds of all I suppose….but…but…hell with it, we must lift it up further. The Conglomerate…may it live for time indefinite.

Signed,

by **Gratislavia** » Mon Apr 18, 2011 2:19 pm

"Absence, what a silly concept; we were here all along!"

The loud and angry words rang out through the assembly hall as various Gratislavian officials milled about the Conglomerate's "return," a word that irked the Kaiser a great deal. It was the opinion of every Gratislavian, that the Conglomerate could never "return," because it could never "disappear." In saying such the lord of Sessho was in one light deemed a hero for "revealing" the Conglomerate's presence again; but also seen as a fool for his misuse of key words and demoralizing concepts that where utterly foreign and prohibited.

Regardless these philosophical and rather trivial thoughts had been pushed to the back of the Kaiser's mind as he began to prepare a response; and if all went right shock the world. Sighing loudly he rose from his position at the front of the assembled Gratislavian officials, "my dear country men; as you all very well know the lord of Sessho has revealed our presence to the world! This occasion, as glorious as it might be has also presented us with a rather...sinister opportunity if you will, said opportunity involving the solidification of the Gratislavian among our brethren in the Conglomerate."

"While one might label this action as rather vindictive, but it must be mentioned that the Conglomerate is a rather powerful organization and it must also be noted that the most powerful seem to posses the greatest prosperity. Regardless of the links between these two occurrences; I must note that it would be wholly imbecilic in nature to ignore the similarities. In saying such I also must sadly keep the details of this plan to my personal cabinet for the time being; but rest assured all shall be revealed in time, regardless of the rather long wait one might have to observe." Turning abruptly, the Kaiser called back over his shoulder; "now gentlemen you must excuse me, I must attend to the matters of our Realm!"

An Accord to the Faithful

May I first and foremost have the honorable pleasure to address my sleeping brethren, it has been some time; has it not? Formalities aside I feel that in all honesty the Conglomerate shall continue to rise until we are greater then our previous incarnation; if one might listen to the wise words of the member base; but this is a whole different discussion in it's entirety. In saying such I also feel it is Gratislavia's duty to set the record straight for the world and for the Conglomerate. We are not returning, we are revealing; we are the legion of thought and the army of wrath. Fear us for the Conglomerate does not return; it reappears to deal it's wrath upon the world.

by **Milograd** » Tue Apr 26, 2011 2:42 pm

OoC: Yeah, I'm just going to open this up to responses now. Any PhoCong who haven't posted...should...

by **Kylarnatia** » Thu Apr 28, 2011 9:10 am

The Winter Palace, the Ancient Capital of Krytopia
The Ancient Empire of Kylarnatia
الامبراطورية القديمة Kylarnatia

"The Conglomerate? They are the powerful minority over the weak majority. They don't go by anyones logic."
- Tsar Yuri Volte Hyuga

The Winter Palace was cold and quiet. Even though it was a scorching day outside, everyone could feel a draft in the long hallways. Nobody was making a sound, as news had just been announced that the Conglomerate had returned...this was both good and bad news, depending on how people looked on them. To some they were the saviours of humanity, to others they were the end of it. The only things that would be left standing in the trade of fire. Either way, they were very much feared by the people of the world.

However, Kylarnatians saw them more as a...'disturbance' in the light. A flicker in the light bulb. They were no threat, but they were something to be careful with. That was what they had always believed, and even though they would not show any form of disregard towards the Conglomerate, they were very iffy towards them. They were dark, something Kylarnatia generally wasn't - and never wished to be. Though it was obvious they wouldn't be able to keep power if they didn't show some iron fist sooner or later.

Tsar Kain had remembered how his father felt about the ordeal. Though during his reign they hadn't even touched the Conglomerate or paid that much attention to its actions or affairs, they knew they exsisted and that they were some very powerful few among many, but that was it. Tsar Yuri had said to his son that it was imperative to have Kylarnatia make a move with the Conglomerate when the time was right, but what time would that be? He felt that it was that time, as the Conglomerate itself was calling apon the international community, wishing to feed on its fear and belief of its power. Though he had no fear of it, more intrest. wether this would make the Conglomerate question the Imperium Antiquus, he did not know. But there was no great gain from doing nothing.

After watching it for the second time over, the Tsar closed the lid of his netbook and placed it in the draw of his desk. He then grabbed a pen and a piece of plain paper, not the paper printed with the communique layout. He wished to make it a declaration rather then a letter, so that the Conglomerate knew that he was rather intent on getting their attention. Wether he would or not was yet to be known, but he could not worry about that till everything was done. Ofcourse there was some doubt within him if this was a good move, though he could not delay it to the end of his life like his father had...

A Declaration from the Imperium Antiquus of Kylarnatia

So, it appears that the dragons have awoken from their caves, dawning in a new age of light. Your presence is well known, and your return was always most anticipated. Now you are here once more, you've instantly grabbed the attention that is wanted by so many, but only few really deserve. You do deserve the eyes and ears of the world, and they shall be focussed on you for a long time to come.

I'm sure you have no care for my declaration directed towards your return, but Kylarnatia has always been very notible of your exsistance. We've prefered to keep ourselves to the other side of the room for the most part of your dominace, but now I feel that is time to do better then my fathers decisions and show ourselves to you, proudly coming to you only with intrest of your great Conglomerate. Why isn't a question need asking, as your actions have astonished many ever since your birth in the shadows.

I quote my deceased father when I say you are a powerful minority over the weak majority. You go by nobodys logic. And I'm sure everyone can agree, and anyone who disagreed would need some explaination, if there was one, to believe so. Kylarnatia has sometimes been very...blunt on its view of things on the international stage, but we wish to sharpen our wits. Following your example is almost impossible for those outside the circle, but admiring it and creating your own from it is more plausible. We hope you inspire us to gain much more of an 'Iron Fist'.

To that then, I wish you a strong and continuing exsistance, and hope that you can clean this world of the arrogance against those who've worked hard for their position, such as yourselves.

His Imperial Highness Tsar Kain II
Head of the Empire and State of Kylarnatia, King of Anglo-Kylarnatia & Sycoon, Conquerer of the Kylarnatian Islands, Protector of North Syvorji, Palmouth, The Latnyian Provinces and Central Felaria, Head of all Kylarnatian Imperial Forces, Protector of the Crown and Kylarnatian Orthodox Faith

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