The Will of Atraeza [ Attn: The Kraven Corporation ]

[Milograd]

OOC: The OOC thread dedicated for this thread can be found here.

IC:

The Dh'arconian Empire of Milograd
The Dh'arconian High Command

The Dh'arconian High Command has concluded that the Kravenite occupation of Atraezan territory is no longer, as per the first Dh'arconian Commandment, acceptable. The continued existence of a Kravenite territory on the Atraezan continent will only further exacerbate the tension currently present within the Gholgothian region, and such has been confirmed as being undesirable by the first Gothic Executive Order. As such, we do henceforth order the withdrawal of Kravenite military assets from the northeastern Atraezan coast. Non-compliance will not be tolerated, and will prompt the extermination of all Kravenite military personnel deployed in Atraeza.

Dh'arco Rahavuhra Varrak
Supreme Guardian of Milograd

[Dephire]

Templar Rebuilding Forces
Southeast Milograd


Menias Volthe, now a Grand Marshal overseeing the efforts in rebuilding the Milogradian coastal city where he and over a million other Templars had landed. They had been in the city for over five weeks, working as fast as they could to rebuild the city for the eventual reclamation from the Milograd people. He stood where Tristan had many weeks before and his gaze towards the city was that of concern. He heard reports that a new leader of Milograd was chosen and that his first act was to demand the Kravens to leave...

This news was not very comforting to the Grand Marshal. In his weeks in Milograd, he had been given news that Godsend Emperor Renuvian Skragg had passed away, that Tristan Skragg was convicted of being a war criminal and sent to Hell's Gate, and that the Templar Order of Ghray was to disband or leave Dephire. The orders were false in a sense because the very next morning came the onslaught. Hundreds of thousands of Vega Loyalists converged on the Holy City of Ghray and took Templars prisoner. Thousands per day were taken and shipped off to Hell's Gate where they were to be tortured and beaten. Now similar actions could occur here.

Menias looked out once more towards his fellow Templars before descending from the cliff. He immediately dispatched a notice to all commanding officers among the ranks and met him inside their makeshift headquarters.

"Men, I have grave news that you all must hear. We may no longer be welcome on this land. As I tell you this now, Varrak is making his first move by ordering the Kravenites to leave. I fear we are next. Even though we only came here to help and give aid to those who need it, we will never cross a Dh'arconian leader. We made a promise to only be here until asked to leave... Though it has been a very short time, we still must respect their choices. Be prepared to pack up and leave. We may not be here for much longer..." Menias finished his briefing.

Confusion was the common expression shown on the faces of his men, "But sir, where will we go?"

Menais shook his head, "For now, we just need to focus on being ready for when the time comes..."

"Aye sir, let's do this."

[Milograd]

"Our domination of this continent, may it forever stand strong, is a testament to the fact that the Gods have mandated us as its rulers. Its sole, unquestioned, rulers." - Dh'arco Rahavuhra Alikarhi

+++++++++
Outskirts of Kremho
Fortress Kremho
Milograd, Gholgoth
0020 hrs
+++++++++

To understand the motives behind the sudden and blunt ultimatum presented to the Kravenites by Dh'arco Rahavuhra Varrak, one must understand the history of the continent itself. The Atraezan continent had been settled upon by Hunenic and Khinen explorers at the dawn of the first millennium, and was in a state of nigh constant internal war for over five hundred years. A idealistic federation arose from the ashes of the war-ridden continent after the violence subsided, and in the centuries following the Federation's establishment, great efforts were made to unite the continent under one, stable banner. The Milogradian Federation claimed the continent in its entirety after the Siege of Kremho in 1711, and its rule over the entirety of the continent was uninterrupted for two hundred years. Atraezan hegemony was something which the Milogradians had taken great pride in, but the Kravenites had ended that. The new Dh'arco Ravauhra of Milograd - Varrak - was determined to return matters to the way they had once been, and the way that they were meant to be.

The pitch black skies over Kremho and its outskirts blanketed over the great movement taking place on the land below them, as a entire Resource Initiative army group had been ordered to encroach upon the Kravenite occupation zone in the event of the Reich ignoring the Milogradian ultimatum. The mobilization and deployment of such a large number of troops had been contested as being superfluous by various members of the Dh'arconian High Command, but Varrak had assuaged such concerns by stating that the Kravenites should not be underestimated as a force. They had, after all, summoned many months of chaos upon the Milogradian peoples through their feigned efforts to conquer the Atraezan continent.

Large, roaming groups of Milogradian military assets were individually approaching the lands just outside the occupated zone, and intended to surround it entirely. Ideally, their presence there would be unnecessary and they would be recalled back to their bases or regular deployment locations in a few days time, but command had hinted that the odds were not in their favor. The Milogradian Logistics Corps had been informed to prepare for three-months-worth of supply shipments to the area, which contradicted any thoughts that their presence there would be brief. Then again, the High Command was known for being pragmatic. In the worst case scenario, the troops would be plunged into yet another bloody struggle for Atraeza's lands, and would be forced to fight it out against the Kravenites for the second time in mere months.

Coordinator Urkarv, the highest ranked officer on the ground for the operation, had been assigned to organize the movements of the largest, primary wave of military forces during their journey to their designated destination. A small city, Nakrosar, had been abandoned during the initial period of the Kravenite invasion of Milograd - it was to be the site where much of Milograd's forces would be stationed during the planned observation and preparation stage of the operation. It was him who had decided that the Resource Initiative would observe the occupation zone from nearby while the High Command waited for a response to their ultimatum, and it was him who had decided how the initial invasion of the occupation zone would go down if the Reich failed to comply with the High Command's terms. It was unorthodox for a Field Agent to have such a great amount of say in a operation as major as this, but Urkarv's heroic actions during the Atraezan War had gained him the ears of both Dh'arco Rahavuhra Varrak and the leadership of the Resource Initiative.

Much of the Resource Initiative's mass movements had occurred on the night of June 6th, and as the sun began to rise over the Alikarhian Mountains on June 7th's morning, the Resource Initiative had arrived in Nakrosar. Likewise, other Resource Initiative troops had arrived on the outskirts of the occupied zone that very dawn, albeit they approached from the northern and southern sides of it. As the soldiers anxiously awaited further orders, artillery batteries and reconnaissance teams begun preparations for the next stages in the operation. Several of the military airfields in the vicinity of the occupied zone had been contacted by Resource Initiative with orders to prepare for commands to assault the occupied zone or defend non-occupied territory at any time in the days that would immediately follow. If the Kravenites failed to comply with the Milogradian ultimatum, one of the two entities would have to be on the attack, and the Kravenites would - perhaps - attempt to surprise the Resource Initiative upon noticing them.

And so the waiting game had begun.

[Ikruchystan]

6535th Division
Western Atraeza
Gholgoth
7:58 P.M. GST

"I told you burning the ships was a stupid idea." Captains Veronase and Hildraim, compatriots since they entered the academy together, rode side by side. Their tired brown horses plodded along the dusty rural roads of Atraeza underneath them, simply going wherever they were led. In truth, the men of the 6535th Tribal Organic Cavalry Division were not much different. Since the end of the Kraven War, the 6535th had wandered through Western Atraeza, unsure of what to do after orders from Ikruchystan had suddenly ceased arriving. As far as they knew, no preparations were being made for them to be brought home.

Veronase was dark-haired and bronze skinned, as a result of being half-Uesugi and half Ungyar. He was a son of the revolution and the ethnic reconciliation that it had brought. Naturally inquisitive and witty he had generally been liked by those around him although not necessarily seen as good fit for the military. On the other hand, Hildraim was characteristically Idrajse-light skinned and brown haired. He was descended from one of the Archipelago's foremost trading families, which had fought viciously against the revolutionary forces. Paradoxically, Hildraim was fanatically orthodox, adhering strictly to Ikruchystani Ikruvoni doctrine, while Veronase preferred to approach it more philosophically.

Hildraim tapped his leather pistol holster nervously. "You're verging on counter-revolutionary thought," he said, unsure of how else to respond. The idea of summary execution briefly crossed his mind. "No, I couldn't," he muttered. Veronase looked at him. Hildraim couldn't match his glare and looked away. Veronase had always been the leader, despite their being equivalent in rank. Still, Hildraim looked around, hoping to catch the eye of a commissar nearby, but couldn't find one. He gave a resigned sigh and braced for the inevitable taunting he was about to receive. "Sometimes, I wonder why I take this," he thought sadly.

Veronase looked at Hildraim with a mischievous grin and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Looking for a commissar, Hildraim?" Without waiting for his compatriot to answer, Veronase continued on. "You're no different from when we were in school together. Always running to a teacher when something went wrong." He pushed Hildraim in the shoulder. Not hard, but still with a hint of malice. "Listen," he said condescendingly, "the whole point of Ikruvoni is to challenge what's dictated to you by your superiors, so that everyone, from the weakest to the strongest can form a more perfect union."

"You don't need to lecture me-I did better than you in Ikruvoni Policy, remember?" Hildraim had fallen back on the most childish of his rebuttals. Veronase cocked an eyebrow, his grin turning into a sardonic sneer. Hildraim, apparently unfazed continued on. He was determined to make a stand this time. "Not to mention that you and your friends are going to end up in front of a firing squad if you don't change the path you're going down."

"Fuck you, Hildraim. And fuck this continent. The Tanzimat is the future." Something inside Veronase had broken; he'd spent too many weeks in this god-forsaken wasteland and witnessed too much human suffering to allow Hildraim to change his mind. Before Hildraim could react, Veronase had whipped his .45 caliber pistol out of its well worn holster and fired three rounds from it. It was almost instantaneous: Hildraim seemed to die as soon as Veronase pulled the trigger. He'd placed all three shots in center mass. Hildraim had never had a chance.

Veronase left the dead man behind, his broken body staining the dusty ground a dull red. The heavy metals in the soil seemed to eat away at him, swallowing his body up as Veronase rode over the next hill. Once he was out of sight, Veronase changed his uniform: he was now dressed as an EKZ agent. He patted his horse. "C'mon. We're getting the hell out of here."

[Dephire]

Templar Rebuilding Forces
Eastern Milograd

Grand Marshal of the Templar Order in Eastern Milograd was a title Menias Volthe thought over deeply while he watched the images from the spy drones flying throughout the northeast corner of Milograd. He was disgusted. Thousands of people murdered for no good reason. "There is never a good reason to murder people. These were good, innocent lives taken."

Marshal Geniss shook his head in disappointment towards the Capitol Police, "What are your orders, sir?"

Volthe looked towards his men, who had been working tirelessly throughout the night to pack up and have been heading out to the one thousand ships just two miles off the shore. Most of his men were now boarding the ships and ready to set sail for a new port of harbor. The Holy City of Ghray, the headquarters of the Templar Order, had been silent, though hundreds more ships with thousands more Templars joined their fleets every week. There were millions of tonnes of materials being left behind, intentionally, as it was faster to pack lightly when heading back to the fleet.

"We will draw a line in the sand," He smashed his clenched fist against the table, "And if one more Milogradian is harmed... One hammer drawn back from another Kraven weapon... Then we will cleanse this land from their pestilence once and for all."

Geniss turned to another officer, "Let the men know that we move out in two hours. Any men left behind will be reclaimed when we are finished. We set sail for the northeast in four hours time. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

The hours seemed to fly as the Templars dropped anything that would hinder their speed and rushed for the transport boats that took them to the ships. In two hours time, all but one hundred soldiers had made the deadline and the ships were already making a straight heading up the east coast towards the Kraven Occupation Zone. Drones constantly flew in and out of the zone trying to see all of the movements from the Milograds and the Capitol Police. As of now, Menias Volthe was the sole leader of this Templar Armada. His men looked toward him and all agreed with his actions.

Menias stood in the command center of the Justice, flagship of the Templar Navy, and called forth his communications team.

"I want you to give the word to all people of Milograd," As he spoke the team attempted to broadcast a message to any and all remaining communications towers still in Milograd control, "People of Milograd and that of the Dh'arconian entity. I am Grand Marshal Menias Volthe of the Templar Order. We came here under good will by our leader, Templar General Tristan Skragg, to aid in rebuilding the grand cities of Milograd. Our nations have always, in some way or another, been allies for we have never once hesitated to come to the aid nor defense of Milograd and its people. It sickens me how a cancerous disease was allowed to manifest itself in your magnificent land and we ask for one final proposition... We, the Templar Order, have already packed up and left your nation... But we wish to aid in one other way... By ridding you of this disease. After this deed is done, if you so will it, we will leave your lands and your God-given waters. However, please keep the resources we have left behind as... A sort of peace offering and parting gift. I hope we will be able to keep together a long and lasting... Friendship. If not, at least a good understanding or partnership between our two nations. We of the Templar Order have no quarrels with your people. We seek to fight injustice, oppression, corruption, and will battle until the bitter end. These Capitol Police will heed this one and only warning. Otherwise, they will be cleansed like the pestilence, the disease, the vermin they have been. Thank you for listening, and I hope to fight along side you on the battlefield if it comes to be.. I, Grand Marshal of the Holy Templar Order, Menias Volthe, will always be thankful of your hospitality. Varrak, if you have been listening, I pray that the Gods shine down and show grace for you and your people and I am glad for you to have risen. When this is all over, I do hope to share a meal with you and meet you for the first and only time... God Speed!"

The connection ceased. Menias Volthe placed both hands on the table in front of him and he let out a long sigh. These next few steps, this possible new war, was beyond him. He needed Dephire to respond. He needed someone... As of now, over one thousand Templar ships with over one million Templar soldiers was sailing for the northeastern tip of Milograd... And he was the sole man in charge. Without the mainland, they were a floating nation.. All alone.. With no home to go to..

[Milograd]

"I'm not sure which was more sickening; the Kravenites slaughtering the Milogradians, or the Milogradians helping them do it." - Juran Kev

+++++++++
Observation Station #14
Nakrosar
Milograd, Gholgoth
1800 hrs
+++++++++

A powerful gust blew over the silent grounds of the observation station in Nakrosar, but that silence was no indication of its activity. It had been almost an entire day since the Resource Initiative forces had arrived in the abandoned city, but it was filled with life and a sense of anxiety. Orders had been assigned to all agents in and around it almost immediately upon their arrival there, so little words needed to be spoken outside of the occasional status report or operation-related inquiry. Everything had been organized in great haste. The nearby airfields had been awaiting orders to launch any sort of assault against the Kravenites, as were the artillery batteries and other troops on the ground. They were also awaiting any orders to prepare for a defensive initiative. Ukarv had been waiting at his command post on-site in hopes of receiving further information about the Kravenite response from High Command, but it - like the station - had been silent nearly all day.

That changed with a single, brief transmission, "General Order 33 has been ordered in the occupation zone. All forces are ordered to proceed with the plans given to them designated as 'scenario b' orders. Over." General Order 33. They knew what it was, and they had expected it too. As the shrill voice from the radio died down, Urkarv immediately leaped out of his seat in the command post and scurried to the phone located on a nearby stool. He hastily dialed a four digit number into the phone and waited for someone to pick up. A few moments without a response passed, but a voice called back to him from the other side of the line shortly thereafter.

"We've received the orders too, and are able to carry out the strikes immediately with your final consent," stated the voice, coldly, "the bombers have been prepared for their flyovers. Permission to launch?" Shouting and the noise of jet-engines could be heard in the background. Urkarv was slow to respond to the inquiry posed to him, so the man at the other side of the line continued, "Images acquired from reconnaissance aircraft and satellites over the occupation zone lead us to believe that the Kravenites have already begun their extermination." The wind had carried in smoke, ash and the smell of burning flesh into the area near the observation station from the occupation zone, so this news came as no surprise to Urkarv.

He was somewhat uneasy about giving the personnel at the airfield permission to perform the plan that they were waiting to begin, but as its mastermind and coordinator, he knew that it was necessary. He sighed into the phone, stroked his temple, and responded solemnly, "You have my permission, as the coordinator of this agent group, to begin the assault." The man on the other side of the line immediately responded, "Noted. You should have all your men in their NBC suits within the next ten minutes." The large cloud of smoke from the east, originating from the blazes started by the Capitol Police, was quickly encroaching slowly upon the observation station as he uttered the last words of his sentence, and a sudden, loud, series of booming noises then startled Urkarv. The Milogradian assault on the Kravenite occupation zone had, at long last, begun in its full fury. But those booms hadn't been the sound of bombs being dropped over the occupation zone.

The artillery batteries had pre-emptively begun their strikes on the Kravenite occupation zone, effectively throwing all of Urkarv's plans off-course. He had planned for the aerial strikes over the occupation zone to precede the artillery bombardments, but this unexpected development meant that his plan would have to undergo quick changes. He initially panicked upon realizing that such a great mistake had been made, and he had to remind himself that the operation - outside of this error - had been largely successful at that point. The time-window between the strikes that had just occurred and the moment when the air force would drop their payloads over the occupation zone was narrow enough for the Kravenites to still be overwhelmed, he figured. The airfields were located just outside of the occupation zone, mere miles away from its borders - it would take a matter of minutes for them to cross over them. It then occurred to him that the gears of the mission were already in motion, and that things had progressed too far for any significant changes to his plan to be made. He would have to hope for the best, but he still expected the worse. Suddenly, his train of thought was interrupted by the blaring noise of sirens which indicated that agents on-site would have to don their NBC suits: the silence over Atraeza had finally ended.

Meanwhile, several massive waves of Milogradian stealth bombers made a speedy approach towards the occupation zone's border. They flew alongside a number of Milogradian air-superiority fighters, known as FA-40 Sirins, that would also play a vital role in the assault. Traveling at great speeds, the pilots had been told that they could expect little resistance in their initial infiltration of occupied airspace, as it was believed that the Kravenites weren't expecting an assault nor had they had enough time to prepare sufficient anti-air defenses. Unfortunately for the pilots, the pre-emptive Milogradian artillery assault had alerted the Kravenites of Milograd's intent.

As the planes made their way over the border, a formidable array of surface-to-air missiles and other anti-aircraft defenses greeted them. The fighters immediately engaged the Kravenite ground forces, summoning a storm of fire upon them, but nearly a fifth of the aircraft fell to the ground. Hurk Tuket, a Milogradian pilot flying one of the fighters involved in the assault, was in a state of panic as a Kravenite missile ripped through his aircraft, and as his plane began to spiral to the ground he received one final order through his communication utility, "Fire any remaining unconventional weapons towards Rykut City, Turbek, or Mashar."

The body of his jet was burning rapidly as it spiraled down towards Earth, and he shouted back, "But don't those cities still got Milogradians in them?!" The officer in contact with Hurk then hastily replied, "Yes. Kraven has ordered a thirty-three - where Milogradians are, there will be just as many Capitol Police agents. This is the most efficient way to exterminate the Capitol Police presence in Atraeza. Now fire your weapons! Now!" Hurk then looked out the side of his aircraft and realized that he was nearing the ground, and in the heat of the moment he did as his officer had commanded before ejecting himself from the jet. The remainder of his missiles, all of which had been armed with a chemical weapon codenamed Juk, had been successfully launched from his aircraft towards Turbek, which was the only city within the missiles' range. They arrived at their target minutes later, detonating just outside of the cities' urban area. Unbeknownst to Hurk, every one of the jets which had been shot down had been given similar orders. A holocaust of epic proportions was about to take place, and it would consume the lives of millions within the occupational zone.

After managing to fight past the airspace over the border, the remainder of the Milogradians bombers and jets began their primary assaults. The three cities that Hurk had been told to fire at were the sole three cities located in the occupational zone, which meant that they would host the majority of the Milogradians therein. Where Milogradians could be found, Capitol Police would be found. All throughout the occupational zone, Milogradian bombers then dropped weapons wherever life could be found, and a deadly mixture of conventional and chemical weaponry flooded the many sites subjected to the raid's wrath. A brief feeling of joy and hope overcame many of the Milogradians on the ground when they spotted their nation's jets in the skies above them, but they were almost immediately reminded why so many entities had tried to put a end to that nation in the past. Within minutes, the vast majority of the Milogradians in the occupational zone had suffered from horrific convulsions, loss of consciousness, and paralysis before dying. Whether it had been Heaven or Hell, they had been sent to a better place.

And with them had gone the Kravenites, or so the Milogradians had thought.

[Milograd]

The Resource Initiative's first and only true mistake was underestimating the Kravenites. Ukarv's operation had been precise, quick, and deadly, but its intended effect was only partially completed: the holocaust in northeastern Milograd had claimed the lives of just about everyone in it, but the NBC-protected Capitol Police forces had remained largely untouched. Many of them had fallen at the hands of the conventional Milogradian bombs, but the chemical weapons that were meant to eliminate them entirely only killed a fraction of the Kravenite force in Atraeza. Nearly all the non-NBC protected soliders in the area had died, but it wasn't enough. And it wasn't what Ukarv had anticipated. He should have known of the Capitol Police's protective measures against chemical weaponry, but Bazak had mislead the Milogradian High Command into believing that modern Capitol Police gear lacked such protection. As Jukilll's killer, he was undoubtedly an unreliable source, but the lies he fed the High Command had circulated throughout the Milogradian military's intelligence services by the time his allegiances were revealed.

As information about the status of the assault was reported to Ukarv via radio, he could only anxiously await the implementation of the next stage of his operation. With the Kravenites slaughtered, he thought, the Resource Initiative would be able to reclaim the occupied territory without any resistance whatsoever. There would be skirmishes with the few Kravenites that somehow survived the attack, of course, but that would hardly be a formidable resistance. The officers and soldiers that walked by his quarters looked on at him with admiration as he continued to bask in his early successes, but the next - and final - stage of the initial operation had yet to begin: the recapturing of the occupied zone. The radio eventually went silent, prompting Ukarv to sigh, and he then rose from his seat to prepare his coordination of the Resource Initiative's attempt at the recapture.

Field Coordinator Kevok walked by Ukarv's quarters, stepped in through the door of the small yet fortified structure - it looked akin to a cabin, and congratulated him on his success. "You've done a great job here today, brother, and all of Milograd is indebted to you for your genius. I've begun preparing the teams for recapture," he steadily spoke, "do you want me to give them the go to begin their mission?" Ukarv, hunched over his wooden stool, turned to him and coldly replied, "There are bodies laid all throughout that wasteland, and only the mountains are shielding the rest of Milograd from the weapons we showered it with. Have you prepared your teams for the cleanup of the dead, the execution of surviving Kravenites, and the recapturing of administrative buildings?" Kevok quickly replied, skipping a breath, "Yes I have."

Ukarv then turned away from his subordinate and walked outside of the command headquarters, which were temporarily operated from within a bomb shelter. He figured that it was safe to exit the shelter due to the extermination of the Capitol Police, and he was driven out of it because it wreaked of rotting food. The air outside of the shelter was crisp and warm, and the sky was nearly completely black. A picture of a once-abandoned, half-destroyed metropolis filled with busy soldiers, tanks, and other armored vehicles was painted in black, white, and every shade of grey. Looking out towards the mountains, Ukarv could hear explosions and gunshots, but assumed that it was merely the other Resource Initiative group committing overkill against the Kravenites.

He then spoke into his portable radio - which he had set up while in the shelter - and sent out a single order to all combat agents in and around Nakrosar. "Move in on the occupied zone," he commanded while coughing, "and exterminate any remaining Kravenites. Reoccupy the cities." Upon the end of his sentence, a great rumbling overcame the eerie silence that had lingered around the city, and the shouts of officers and soldiers alike could be clearly heard. Within fifteen minutes, thousands of soldiers had jumped into their armored cars and sped off towards the occupied zone - the ravaged soil of Atraeza made their trip a bumpy one, and trucks had to carefully maneuver around the countless explosion craters that scarred the land. The explosions and gunshots that Ukarv previously heard had ceased to be audible, but an ominous feeling haunted many of the officers leading the waves of agents towards the occupied zone. A faint buzzing could be heard from the skies.

Back in Nakrosar, Ukarv smiled to himself while talking to several officers who remained with him in the city. Their conversation was dull and tedious, insofar the officers were only interested in discussing trivial information pertaining to the operation, but Ukarv wanted to brag about his success. He sighed as a shorter man, Ruzazi, rambled about the time it would take for reinforcements to enter the area - this was information that he knew quite well already, so he had no interest in talking about it. There had also been discussion about how much of the tanks, artillery batteries, and armored personnel carriers in Nakrosar had begun their journeys back to Kremho. He then waved his arm to the men and said, "Excuse me, if you will, I have to place a call to Argyz." The men nodded and he wandered off to a secluded corner of the street, dialed a series of numbers into his phone, and waited for a response.

"This is the Argyzian Authority's Military Communications Department speaking, who do you wish to speak to?" a male voice on the other side of the line asked. Ukarv paused for a moment, and simply answered, "Varrak." The man on the phone said nothing for ten or so seconds, for it was absurd to request to speak to the Dh'arco Rahavuhra on such short notice, but then realized that he was obligated to redirect the man to his office, "I'll redirect you to him immediately." As a high ranking member of the Resource Initiative, Ukarv was one of the few Milogradians who had a phone. The communications agent immediately redirected him to Varrak's office, and after a few minutes of discussion with Varrak's secretary, Varrak finally picked up the phone.

"Greetings. It has been some time since we spoke."

Ukarv grinned to himself. "Yes. I am calling to inform you of the success of my operation; the Kravenites are no longer a problem in Atraeza." He was, of course, lying to the Dh'arco Rahavuhra - the operation had not been finished yet - but it was obvious to Ukarv that Atraeza would be reunified under Milogradian control within several hours: he thought that nothing stood in the way of his success. The Dh'arco, thrilled by this news, enthusiastically replied, "Really? That is very impressive. I was under the impression that there would be a greater resistance from the Kravenites. How'd you manage to handle them so quickly?" While waiting for a response from Ukarv, Varrak was handed a small note by one of his security agents, and it read, "A message from Menias Volthe meant to be heard by you has been retrieved. A written version of his statement is on your desk."

"While I hate to sound pompous," Ukarv chuckled, "it was probably my tactical genius and leadership skills that made this operation such a decisive success. After all, I planned it, coordinated it, and oversaw all of it." He knew that his subordinates had played a large role in the operation, but if he was to get promoted he would have to emphasize his meaningful contributions more than theirs. "I can't take all the credit, of course; my agents and lower officers helped carry out my vision in the east. Unfortunately, being out here in the field has worn me down."

Varrak considered what had Ukarv said while nodding to the security agent in regards to the note. When he first became Dh'arco Ravauhra, he decided almost immediately that his initial goal was to reclaim all of Atraeza under the crimson banner of Milograd: he thought that this had been achieved thanks to Ukarv. He was grateful for what he had done and felt obligated to reward him, just as Ukarv desired. He replied, "Your heroic actions and planning against the Kravenites has brought the entirety of Atraeza back under the sovereignty of Milograd, and for that you must be rewarded. Since you say that you are uncomfortable working on the ground, would you be interested in working in the Resource High Command? As you well know, members of it rarely leave Argyz."

Ukarv smirked as he clenched the telephone in his fist out of excitement. Perfect. Truthfully, he loved working in the field - watching his accomplishments right where they occurred was always a pleasure - but he knew that expressing dismay at working on the ground would make Varrak consider placing him in the higher ranks of the Resource Initiative. "It would be an honor and a privilege. When would I begin?"

Varrak shrugged and replied, "You could begin today: we can arrange a helicopter to pick you up from Nakrosar. Since the mission is already a success, your presence there is unnecessary anyway." Ukarv almost cringed at the conclusion of his sentence, for he knew that the mission was not truly over, but he could not take back his lie. The operation was going to be a success very soon, but the job had yet to be finished. He figured that it was a smaller problem than what he was making it out to be, and simply replied, "Noted. When should the transport arrive? I have men here who can handle the withdrawal back to Kremho in my absence."

"About thirty to forty minutes."

"Noted."

"Oh, right. Before I end the call, I should probably inform you that I've ordered the reinforcements that were en route to Nakrosar to return to their bases. Since the mission is over, their presence there is unnecessary and they would be more valuable in the north."

Ukarv froze. The reinforcements probably were unnecessary, just as Varrak said, because there would be little resistance in the occupied zone. He had originally requested reinforcements from the Resource High Command as a precautionary measure that would be valuable if an aspect of the operation failed, but no such issues had arisen. Within an instant, his blood started pumping and drops of sweat rolled down his dirty, white face. He wanted to tell Varrak to reverse that damned order, just to bring ease to his conscious, but once again he couldn't fall back on his lie. He groaned to himself and turned the phone away from his face as to make it inaudible to Varrak. It's not a big deal. The operation is a surefire success, the reinforcements are superfluous. The risk questioning Varrak's judgement poses to my promotion is not worth it. The operation can't go wrong at this point.

"Understood. We obviously don't need the reinforcements here anyway," Ukarv replied while wiping the sweat from his face, "I'll watch for the transport." The call was ended shortly thereafter, and Ukarv began his wait for the helicopter upon its conclusion. He paced in a circle but looked only at his feet when doing so, while also intensely listening for the sound of spinning rotors. The smile that had been present across his face minutes earlier had transformed into a slight frown, but this wasn't to say that he was unhappy with his promotion. A throbbing pain in his head followed him wherever he walked - unfortunately for him, all he could do was wait for that promised helicopter.

While Ukarv waited for the transport to pick him up in Nakrosar, the massive wave of resource agents finally began crossing over into the occupied zone. It was, as they had expected, almost completely quiet. Their NBC suits protected them from the dangerous chemicals that the Milogradian Air Arm had shrouded the land in, and their initial duty was to reoccupy the cities of Rykut, Mashar, and Turbek. The howling wind had changed directions and was now blowing towards the Alikarhian Mountains, which was precisely what Ukarv had anticipated. All was going according to plan.

Field Coordinator Kevok was driving the leading armored car in the wave, and as he drove the vehicle over the rocky terrain of Atraeza, he anxiously awaited information about the number of surviving Kravenites in his area. Outdated reconnaissance were flying overhead, but the great cloud of smoke that had originated from the fires started by the Capitol Police obscured their view of the ground, and the heat of spreading fires made it difficult to spot the heat signatures of human life. Most of the men in the trucks had been glaring outside of their windows throughout the entirety of their ride; these agents had fought the Capitol Police during the War for Atraeza, and if their battles with them had taught them one thing it was that Kravenites didn't fall easily. Their superiors had told them that they had nothing to worry about, but there was much doubt amongst them about those claims.

The road was difficult to see in the darkness of the night - headlights didn't help much - and the land was silent. Kevok figured that his wing of the wave would arrive in Rykut within thirty minutes if they maintained their average speed, but the terrain was becoming increasingly difficult to navigate as they approached the area where much of the fighting during the war had taken place. Even on a night as dark as this one, the drivers were able to identify explosion craters, the skeletons of shot-down fighter jets, the remains of destroyed tanks, and towering piles of charred Milogradian corpses. The men cringed at their sights, clenched their fists and winced, but they did not shut their eyes. They did not look away. They couldn't afford to.

Kevok's radio, after a quarter of an hour of silence, finally emitted a update from the Milogradian Air Arm, "There are no Kravenites in your area. Everything should be clear." Kevok then let out a subtle sigh of relief and turned his head to the men in the back of his vehicle, "See? There is nothing to worry about. You can get your nose off the glass now." One of the soldiers, a young Hunenic man, then replied to Kevok, but he kept his eyes stuck to the glass while doing so, "I'm still not buying it. We set fire to a Kravenite bunker once, y'know, and it burned to the ground. We were told that they was dead—"

"And?" Kevok snarled, stroking his temple.

The soldier then shot back, "And that was the day that all of my squad - minus myself - died, sir." He looked away from his coordinator in disgust, resuming his scouting of the landscape from his window. Officers don't know shit about what real soldiers see.

Kevok lowered his head, and solemnly replied, "I'm sorry to hear that, but don't you realize that—"

A thundering boom interrupted his sentence and a massive fireball consumed the mens' vehicle entirely. It was thrown through the air and it skidded across the ground until hitting a harsh halt. Nearly two dozen of the other vehicles in the wave met the same fate almost instantaneously, and suddenly a shower of explosions was beating down on the resource agents en route to the cities. The Kravenites had fallen back from the border and had organized an ambush. The source of the assault was unknown: the agents knew it was the Kravenites, but they were completely oblivious about where they were attacking from. Kevok staggered from the wreckage of his vehicle to see that his entire row of vehicles in the wave had been set ablaze, and that all the men who were in his truck were incapacitated. He had been launched through his vehicle's windshield during the explosion and had landed nearby its burning remains. His leg had been sliced open in the explosion, much of his skin had been burned off, and face was bleeding profusely.

He looked up at the scene of the strike and observed the unrelenting shower of explosions. The darkness of the night had been illuminated by the fires of war. A mere fraction of the Milogradian force had been destroyed, but the first rows in the wave were completely destroyed. The hell that had been unleashed against the first row of vehicles had successfully obstructed the path towards the cities, which meant that the assault's true purpose has been successful. It had all been a ploy to buy the Kravenites more time to evacuate. Billows of smoke could be seen rising into the air from as far as miles in the distance, and the screams and yells of panicking resource agents resounded alongside a storm of gunshots. Kevok couldn't figure out exactly what type weapons systems were being used to create the explosions, but he knew that gunshots meant that the Kravenites were close. He spun to his left and spotted a row of glowing red eyes approaching him. Capitol Police.

A loaded rifle that had been in his vehicle sat upon a pile of dirt several feet to Kevok's right. Realizing that he might have to defend himself against the enemy troops, he scrambled over to it and slung it over his shoulder. He estimated that they were about 210 meters away, which meant that he might be able to fall back to the next row of armored cars and request reinforcements from the officers Nakrosar. He would have to be lucky. A sharp pain shot through his leg with every awkward step he took towards the Milogradian vehicles, but he did the best to ignore the pain and desperately continued his march. The illumination provided by bright explosions and spreading fires allowed him to spot a nearby armored car that had avoided the wrath of the Kravenite assault. It seemed like it had it partially fallen into a explosion crater, which had made it impossible for it to retreat from the scene. Another survivor of the initial assault had told him that most of the vehicles in the area had begun to retreat, which was made evident to Kevok by the sparsity of Milogradian vehicles. The retreat made sense; the agents hadn't been equipped or prepared to fight against a formidable military force. Fighting would have been a futile endeavor.

While most agents were retreating, Kevok knew that a complete retreat was contradictory to Milogradian interests. In the chaos of the firefight, no one knew what the Kravenites planned on doing next: most of the Milogradians in the occupied zone had been killed, so they would either leave or continue their occupation unless they were forcibly removed. Retreating could potentially give the Kravenites more time to regroup. Kevok wouldn't allow that to happen. After several additional minutes of limping towards the vehicle he had spotted, Kevok found himself standing alongside it. Blood loss had caused him to become increasingly delirious and he was weak, but he was still alert enough to remember his objectives. He struggled to open the vehicle's door - with every yank, tug, and pull he gave it, the sound of gunfire came closer to him. Time was running out.

A bullet grazed his shoulder and he yelled out of frustration. No matter how hard he pulled, the door of the truck wouldn't open. Without truly thinking about it, and out of rage, he smashed the window of the car with the butt of his rifle. He was hesitant to try to climb into the vehicle - he didn't want his hands to get punctured by the shattered glass - but he did so anyway after narrowly avoiding another bullet. He hastily grabbed the radio in the vehicle and hectically attempted to contact the command team in Nakrosar. He shouted into its speaker upon, "Is anyone hearing this?!" A response was obscured by the sound of explosions nearby, and when Kevok looked out the window he was horrified to realize that the enemy had nearly caught up to him. The red eyes of the Kravenite helmets glared at him, and he couldn't help but stare right back into their lens.

No clear response was conveyed to Kevok, but he continued shouting, "I'm not sure if anyone will hear this, but the Kravenites survived the bombing. We are being hit from an unknown location and the entire first row has been destroyed!" He ducked as one of the Kravenites from outside his vehicle fired a shot at the windshield of the truck. "Most have evacuated but we need to get the reinforcements in here as soon as possible if we want to reclaim this continent!"

A voice responded. "There are no reinforcements."

Kevok's jaw dropped and he cursed under his breath. "What?! Who am I speaking to?!"

The voice responded in haste, "This is Ukarv! Varrak ordered the reinforcements back to their bases. We don't know how the Kravenites survived the assault but you need to leave the area now. Go to Tovawok!"

"Why not Nakrosar?"

"Nakrosar is under heavy bombardment by Kravenite bombers. I don't know how we didn't spot them sooner, but we're fucked. I have to go."

"Why did he withdraw the reinforcements?"

"He thought they were unnecessary because he thought that the operation had been a success. I seriously need to go. Bye!"

"What made him think that?!" Kevok shot back.

There was no response and the radio went silent. A dozen or so Capitol Police agents had encircled Kevok's vehicle while he was speaking to Ukarv, and when he looked up he was horrified to see them shooting at him. He knew he was hopeless, and he knew that the operation had no chance of success. The steady arm of one of the Kravenites reached into the broken window of the car after they had stopped firing at it. Kevok's fate was sealed, so he showed no restraint against the man's will. He was dragged by the throat out of the car's window, thrown to the ground, and executed right in his place. Kevok was dead, and the mission had failed.

In Nakrosar, Ukarv was delighted to see that his helicopter had arrived. He had been told to wait at the capital building of the city, and the aircraft had landed there unscathed. The debris that had been spread throughout the city by the Kravenite bombing covered the street where the helicopter had landed, thus contributing to the creation of a hellish brownout. Regardless, the helicopter was able to land and Ukarv ran to it as quickly as he could. Unlike most of the agents in the city, he had somehow managed to survive the Kravenite bombing. Skyscrapers had been set ablaze, just as many had collapsed, and a billow of smoke had stormed through almost all of the city's streets. He was a survivor, and he would now have to personally - and awkwardly - explain what had occurred to Varrak.

As he boarded the helicopter, the pilot turned to him and asked, "What the fuck was this? We were told that it'd be a clean landing, and instead we come to find that half the city is on fucking fire?" Ukarv was quite surprised that they hadn't abandoned him due to the Kravenite assault, be he refrained from stating this. The helicopter then took off for Argyz, and only when it left the outer rim of the city's airspace did Ukarv reply to the pilot, "I don't know what happened. The Kravenites came at us with everything they had and the air arm didn't even warn us about it." The pilot shook his head. "We were told that things had worked well down there. What went wrong?"

Ukarv sighed. "I don't know. There was nothing I could have done to prevent this," he lied. "I just hope that we'll be able to get these rats off of our continent."

[Dephire]

Alarms began ringing throughout the Templar Naval Fleet. Sailors frantically scurried to their battle stations. Grand Marshal Menias Volthe stood at the helm staring out towards the horizon, nothing. He was still alert and ready for the inevitable Kraven fleet to show, but nothing could be seen on radar nor sonar. Nearly fifty miles ahead of the fleet were several dozen submarines with long-range sonar scouting ahead, and yet still nothing. They were just preparing for the worst case scenario. The alarms had not been sounded because of a Kraven fleet... But a more sinister armada larger than anything Volthe had ever seen in his life was to the east.

"Menias, our drones still see the Kraven fleet heading straight toward us from Atraeza. However, they are still a good day or two away." Marshal Geniss analyzed the readings from the drones on the monitors in front of him.

The Grand Marshal looked worried, "Then what monstrous armada is breathing down my neck?"

"Sir.. That's the-!"

"We have incoming bogeys! One hundred jets off starboard!" One of the officers examining the radar shouted excitedly.

"Have they targeted us yet?!" Volthe shouted at the officer.

"Sir-!" Geniss tried to interject again.

"No, Grand Marshal, they are performing a fly by..." The officer replied, calming down.

"SIR!" Geniss yelled.

"What is it, Geniss?!" Menias looked at the Marshal with bewildered eyes.

"We have an incoming transmission... From the Dephirian Imperial Armada..." The Marshal was pale as a ghost. Templars had fear weeded out of their systems from the first day they begin their conditioning, but the sight of the entire Dephirian Armada closing in on them strikes a nerve in people who know no fear.

"Put it through, Geniss." The Grand Marshall sat back in his captain's chair.

"Templar Naval Fleet, this is Godsend Admiral Rayuk aboard the Defiance. We are here to assist your fleets in the extermination of the Kravenite scum from Atraeza."

Menias Volthe pondered a moment, "You killed the last man in charge of the Imperial Armada, Rayuk. You served under Renuvian Skragg, who willingly joined the Kravens when the world needed them to fight. What has changed to make you want to fight the Kravens again? What even makes you think I will believe you, Rayuk?"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause from the other line before finally static and then a new voice came through, "Renuvian Skragg has passed away. His so called brother stole the throne and he had ordered the banishment of the Templar Order from his continent. The Templar General is in jail, young Grand Marshal, for crimes he did not commit. I will not have my Navy fight for an Emperor who is as evil as Jonathan Vega. You have my word, Godsend General Typhis Nepharia, that Godsend Admiral Rayuk means your fleet no harm and that he is true to his word. We have over twelve thousand ships in our primary armada, with the secondary armada staying back at home awaiting the recapture of Galva. We heard your broadcast and we would like to join your cause."

The Grand Marshal Menias Volthe was short on words. He never expected the Godsend General to actually be aboard the Defiance, but there he was, speaking to him through a radio. He looked towards his men who were equally as shocked as he was, and the red lights fading in and out brought a strong feeling of suspense. Finally, Volthe spoke into the microphone, "We will wipe the Capitol Police off the face of Atraeza and then return to Dephire and save Tristan!" The men cheered loudly at the mention of their beloved Templar General.

"Yes, let us become one. The Grand Imperial Armada of Gholgoth!" Cheers from the sailors flew through the radio as all channels in the fleets were open. Over the next few hours, the armadas merged to form one monstrous beast... And it was still headed for Atraeza.

The Godsend Generals Rayuk and Typhis joined Grand Marshal Menias Volthe aboard the Justice to better consolidate their forces and efforts. Menias sent off a secondary message to the Milograd High Command with mention of the increased available forces.

[Milograd]

Grand Hall
Argyz, Milograd

"So, I hope you realize that this means you're going to die," Varrak spat, looking down at the trembling figure of a man whom had sentenced his minions to untimely deaths. The trembling man, whom was once renowned for his unbreakable composure and resolute strength, was at his knees. His trademark sunglasses were nowhere to be found and its absence made it possible to observe the dying light in his teary pupils. The cuts on his scrapped, bruised, and burned kneecaps stung as they sat on the cold marble floors of the chamber; he didn't know what the maids used to clean those floors, but he swore that it had to be lemon juice or something. Something ridiculous.

The man stuttered, struggled to speak, and sighed. "I, uh—"

"Shut up. Don't talk out of turn," the Dh'arco snarled back. He pointed his finger at the map of Milograd that hung on the wall. "Do you see that yellow line on the map?" The man nodded while staring at the floor, and reluctantly allowed Varrak to continue his diatribe. "You're the reason that the bloodied seeds will blossom within those borders, Ukarv. I honored you for your service and you made me regret it. You were even given your own name! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Ukarv sat motionless, still cringing due to the pain in his knees. "I made a mistake, Dh'arco. It won't happen again."

Varrak let out an awkward chuckle. "Yeah. It won't happen again. Didn't you hear me when I said you were going to die?"

"Yes, but wha—"

"There are no exceptions. You know that we don't tolerate failure, betrayal, or selfishness on this continent."

"Stop interrupting me."

"I'll only do it one more time, I promise," the Dh'arco joked. He was snickering.

Ukarv shut his eyes and spat some blood onto Varrak's floor. "How did I betray anyone?! What did I do?" he barked, suddenly reinvigorated and breathing heavily. His teary stare had morphed into a fiery glare. "The Kravenites were severely weakened by the assault and are fleeing the continent. That's a victory!" he shouted. "We made it out of this mess alive!"

Varrak shook his head. "You did, but my other 30,000 sons did not. You didn't protect them, you called off their reinforcements, and you wrongly believed that they were an acceptable sacrifice in the name of your own glory. That is why you are selfish, a failure, and a traitor, and that is why you will die tonight." He crinkled his nose and shook his head again; his hand was resting along his lip. The long and oversized sleeves of his black suit were folded against his chest. It looked like he was wearing a robe.

The two of them quickly quieted down and Ukarv sank closer to the floor again. "Well, I'm a part of the reason why Milograd will live to see another day. That territory would have been used to launch an invasion." "Look at yourself," Varrak groaned. "You're pathetic. You're not worthy of being one of my sons, and you're nothing more than a rusty shackle around the ankle of Alikarhi's spirit. He, whose great goals will save our nation, cannot step forward towards Heaven unless you fall."

"That's selfi—"

A gunshot beat Ukarv to the punchline. Varrak laughed anyway.