Swords in the Sky[P/MT, Semi-Open]

[-Deus-]

The revolution was not televised, but rather, digitized. The people of Lrae-Epsos did not stir, or even blink as their electronics were suddenly taken over by an unknown and clearly malevolent force. The craggy old face of a man well past his 60s did little to upset and instill fear into the young and connected hive of Ladaerans. "The revolution is here" he said stoically, looking out from his screen with no clear expression that could be registered by the electronic ants. They were electronic ants, of course, as they blandly stared back into the old man's face. They were captured by the lights and colors of their computer and television screens, by the music and sounds from their radios and cell phones, and yet all the while they hardly even knew what this man was saying. It was like they were entrenched in their digital world but blind and deaf to it at the same time.

"The revolution is finally here" he said again, "We have arrived to liberate. We have arrived from our stasis to free the minds of the innocence masses of Lrae-Epsos. We are here to replace the tyranny of an absolute ruler with the option of election and the loving-kindness of an elected savior. A savior who does not claim to be god, but a brother. We are your brothers. We are the Western Brotherhood and this...This my friends, is the revolution."

And as the screen faded to black, the hive looked up from it's addictive substance to look at the sky. And for those in the city of Kessic, nestled snugly between the Allelisine Hills of the western fields, their sky happened to be grey and red. Smoke filled their sky, clogging the lungs of the hive and sending them into a rabid frenzy as they ran from the licking flames of "revolution". Dark, crimson, evil flames of revolution exploding from the bottles thrown by their western brothers. The city was theirs.

***

"What the bleeding fuck is wrong with this country?" It was a rather common sentiment among the councilmen as they gathered around the large wooden tables. What the bleeding fuck was wrong with the country? No one knew exactly what was wrong with it bu for now it seemed to be under siege by this "Western Brotherhood" group. It was rather worrying, the state of internal affairs in Lrae-Epsos and all.

The Eastern High Council was a recent addition to the political scene of Lrae-Epsos. The current king, Oedipis Ilah Ehyeh, had instituted it when he figured that one man couldn't watch, dictate and guide a country successfully alone. Despite it's good intentions, however, the EHC was rather...sketchy. Boasting a stone-strong process of election, it always ended up being "who has the most money? Let's invite him to the party." with these type of people and it was frustrating to the few politically active citizens of the kingdom. And even though they were five crusty old men in business suits and the occasional robe, they felt they truly were connected to the pop-culture crazy youth of the day. It was... embarrassing.

"My King" began one such man, one Alister Stane, his skin floppy and wrinkled, pasty from lack of sunlight and his eyes small and beady, magnified behind his giant circular glasses. "I feel we should take action quickly against the Brotherhood. They've made it rather known that their base and main force is somewhere near Kessic. We should mobilize a force at once and wade them out."

Oedipus looked at him, rubbing his chin and letting his mind wander into a field of imagination and fiction. He was a young sapling among ancient oaks, and yet for such a young man ruling a country had obviously aged him. He looked stressed and strained, older and more masculine than someone his age should look. His fingers were calloused and rubbed his neatly trimmed golden blonde beard slowly, letting the motion massage his mind and send it on a journey across time and space. "Why not just bomb it all? By now they must've either captured or killed the Kessites."

"No, no! They've made it abundantly clear that they wouldn't dear kill the inhabitants off; it'd go against their image." The man was on the verge of shouting, but then again Mr.Orrag was always turned up to ten for some reason unknown to his fellow councilmen. "I suggest working this out diplomatically. Setup contact with the Brotherhood and then try to get them to settle down peacefully. Perhaps register them as a political party?"

"If they wanted to be registered as an official party they would've done so. These people are terrorists, Mr.Orrag and terrorists respond to one thing: Force." King Ehyeh smiled and stood up from his chair, pulling over his slim suit jacket and buttoning it neatly, combing back his hair with his hand in one quick motion. "And now, if you excuse me gentlemen I have a date. Can't keep the Misses waiting, after all. Call Kadenn, have him set up the operation. We'll hit these people hard and fast, end this before it even begins. Meeting dismissed."

They gawked at him and grumbled as he smiled, nodded and quickly disappeared into the city streets. What was the point of a council if he wasn't going to use it, they wondered? He was brash and hardly even listened to them. Either way, he was their king; they had to obey. They took up the phone and connected to the hive. "Hello?" Force with force, fire with fire. It would be quick and painless. Hopefully.

***

Kadenn wasn't particularly used to being called "sir" on such a regular basis. Somehow in the span of weeks he had gone from a common detective to the highest military authority in the nation, and despite the fact that it had all happened so quickly and nearly a year ago to date, he felt so ill-suited for the position. He was a common man with a wife, a kid, a dog and a house. He wasn't suited for this line of luxurious and upper class work. He was a knight now, a general as well and with a word he could ensure that half of Lrae-Epsos was charred in smoke while the other half drowned in it's own blood. It was too much power for one man. He felt like a king and it sickened him.

He kept his problems to himself though as he walked onto the makeshift raised platform. It was unnaturally cold on the Epsonian fields today and as he looked at Kessic in the distance he couldn't help but observe the fact that he could see his breath in the air. That was a rare thing, especially since he spent most of his time in the south nowadays. He had to be about 4 miles away from Kessic now as he peered at it, his assistant to his side and the field commander of this operation right behind him. He turned to the rather masculine looking blonde-woman and smiled, shaking her hand. "Fill me in. What's the word?"

Her grip was unnaturally firm as she shook his head back and yet her voice was soft and feminine, hardly a match for her well-built physique. "The word, sir, is bombing. We've been ordered to bombard the surrounding area, scare the Brotherhood into surrender. Everything in a three mile radius is going up in flames."

"That seems, uh...excessive, don't you think?" It was excessive, but that was exactly how the Lrae-Epsonian government worked, he had found. Over-the-top, unnecessary and excessive nearly to the point of being ridiculous. "Besides there's like...two, maybe three small towns surrounding the city. If you turn it into a no-man's-land you risk fucking those up. How are you going to handle it Miss...?"

"Irin. Colonel Irin. And I've already handled it by evacing those few townsfolk out of the area. We're set to commence the bombardment in the next...thirty minutes, or so. Once we're done here, you and your men take over with the extraction of any civilians and liquidation of any hostiles. King wants to capture at least a few of these Brotherhood nuts, so...yeah."

He gave her a puzzled look. She was doing an awful lot of commanding, especially for a colonel. He was the Elder General here. She was just a colonel. If he was his brother he might've slapped her and called her out on it, but no, he held himself and only nodded. "Well thank you for your effort, Colonel Irin. Just do what you need to do. I'd rather have a bloodless victory, so maybe they'll give up once the bombs start dropping. ETA of the artillery?"

"Right now" she turned and pointed as large self-propelled 155mm artillery vehicles rolled into the makeshift camp. Their were around fourteen of them and they roared as they rolled through the grass and dirt of the field. They moved past the camp and lined up neatly in front of it, the line so close to the raised platform that Kadenn felt a little intimidated. "They're mostly just for show. The real firepower is coming through in the form of a wing(12) of B-52s coming through and just flattening the place. And like I said, thirty minutes."

She laughed triumphantly, saluted and walked off the platform. Kadenn sat there for awhile, his hands folded behind his back. It was all rather excessive. He didn't like it. He kept quiet though as he began to hum to himself. He did enjoy fireworks, however.

[-Deus-]

"That's, uh, something..." Kadenn was forced to admit the amount of damage the Lrae-Epsonian air-force had done was impressive. He was more disturbed by the fact that they had completely destroyed and leveled everything within a three mile radius of this rather insignificant, tiny city in the weak pursuit of some random group of terrorists. It was all somewhat sketchy, but he dealt with it for now. In his own opinion the Lrae-Epsonian political thought process was only two I.Q points away from needing a helmet and pads at all time, but that didn't stop him from at least partially respecting that if they wanted they could have him killed or exiled at anytime for the slightest misstep or swear word. It was things like that, and this "Western Brotherhood" thing that really made it hard for him to sleep at night. How close was Lrae-Epsos really to falling headfirst into the abyss?

"Impressive, yeah General?" He had heard Colonel Irin's boats crunching against the charred bits of grass and dirt, and before that he had smelt her nearly gagging perfume on the wind. He gave a forced grin and nod before quickly turning back around the gaze at the city. The wind was picking up violently and he could see at least a light rain on the horizon. His light brown trench coat flicked wildly in the back and he sighed as he held down his fedora. Perhaps he shouldn't of worn a suit to a battlefield, he wondered, somewhat irritated at the amount of ash and black dust that was floating up rather closely to him. "Eh, looks like you're up, General. What's your plan?"

She was getting rather agitating, to be honest. As much as he hated to admit it he hated when women felt they were something special compared to a working man, especially when it came to things such as a war. It was the Siius in him, he supposed. "Well..." he caught himself quickly and only chuckled reassuringly, "well you're just gonna have to wait and see, huh? Hopefully we won't have to do anything and it'll be a quick in-n-out." He was sure she was either up to something or to interested for her own good and of course telling her could only end in a full fucking disaster. "Just do your job and as per our orders, blast the city into next week if shit gets bad."

He started to walk off towards the camp, slowly transcending the hill while trying to keep his shoes and trousers as clean as possible with all the ash floating about. He'd been at this campsite for two fucking days and he already hated it with a passion. He'd been unable to shower or even get a new set of clothes dropped in. From what he gathered the whole place was effectively shut in, no one in and no one out of the area. It was depressing but at least he had convinced Roman to allow him to lead the field team (a job that was formally Irin's and one that he was happy to steal). With her duty now his, her only job was to direct the artillery in the general direction of the city so as to distract any Brotherhood forces within. Kadenn could've shit a better idea than what was in place, but he knew it wasn't his place to question. He grumbled haplessly as he reached the camp and lumbered through to his tent, collapsing on his cot.

He'd catch an hour or two of sleep before having to ship out. It always made him so unnaturally tired, the prospect of death and all.

***

Helicopters frightened Kadenn. He was supposed to be a soldier, the highest military authority besides the king himself, and here he was shaking in terror as she gripped onto the safety straps of his unit's helicopter. It didn't help that the TH-300 "Lakota" shook like the devil in the sky and it's rotors roared like a pride of lions. Luckily the artillery added a familiar ambiance to it all, their shells turning the already charred black ground into an unnatural pus-like state of being. Irin was at least competent when it came to hitting nothing.

He looked around the Lakota, the utility helicopter easily holding the thirty-six unit-members (twenty-four seated, the remaining twelve, including Kadenn, standing up and holding onto the safety straps). It was comfortable with a gun slung around his neck, the sleek KAR-21E assault rifle much lighter and compact than it's predecessor, but once he actually held it in his hands it felt just like home. He could tell they were close to landing though, not only by the blandly designed skyscrapers, but also by the slowly dying roar of the rotors. Once they had actually landed he secured his "bubble" helmet to his defense suit and once the monochromatic H.U.D was activated, he lit up communication with his unit. His legs felt like jelly once he started walking, and he had to shake the pins and needles from his feet and legs before he was ready to give any sort of order.

"Alright everybody, alright alright listen up." It had been an eternity since he had actually lead a unit into a hot-zone and he felt his nerves getting to him, butterflies fluttering in his stomach making him fill with nausea. "The objective here is to flesh out and capture the enemy. Only use lethal force when absolutely needed, we don't need a mass killing on our hands people. Any civilians you find in this shithole you need to be protected until we can get them evacuated. I'd rather not be the man to hold your hand through this, and I'm sure you can get through this without dying. It's a fucking cake walk. Now set your watches, we're to meet back here in three hours; the bombs stop dropping in thirty minutes, so keep quiet. We will not wait for anyone, so if you encounter problems, keep your comm open and contact the camp. Let's get this done people, move out." They all silently acknowledged his command and moved out, splitting up into their designated groups of four.

Kadenn had the fortune of leading a rather obscure battlegroup and as he gripped his KAR tightly, cocking it by gently pulling on the right side, he tried to remember the people in his group. Karson...a man named Karson, short, ugly motherfucker that was unlucky enough to be balding in his mid-thirties. There was also a young Siius kid, he couldn't remember his name but had taken to calling him "Pralto"; if he was a real Siius he'd know what it meant. The last man was, of course given his luck, not a man at all but a woman, an uppity bitch named Anna with an Adam's apple and the most facial hair he'd ever seen on a "lady". Quite the group he had here; it gave him a sense that he was the only one that knew what he was doing but then he remembered he was a thirty something year old pencil pusher turned general all because his big brother had went and gone batshit insane. Yeah, some group.

[-Deus-]

It had felt like they’d been in that damn city for days, but it had only been an hour. Kadenn was slipping, his eyes fluttering in the darkness, fatigue slowly washing over his body and wiping away all traces of his former morale or motivation. They had found absolutely nothing, only a few long abandoned weapon caches and civilian centres. Most of the people they had encountered didn’t even know what the Western Brotherhood was, and had thought they were being attacked by foreigners or some act of god. They had bunkered down and settled into their makeshift relief centres, waiting out the storm as they put it. Not to mention the very literal storm that was pelting the city, flooding some streets so severely that the battle group had to take an alternative route or risk being drowned.

All the other units had reported the same thing: a normal city, completely empty of any sort of hostile activity, with many of the inhabitants totally ignorant of any Western Brotherhood or other terrorist activity. It was unsettling to Kadenn, and as he sat himself down on the floor of the apartment complex his unit was currently in, he closed his eyes and took deep, frustrated breathes. He was about twenty or thirty blocks away their original drop-off point and he felt jelly where his legs should’ve been. His unit was an utter mess as well, most of them very exhausted from lugging around their gear and walking without end. This was their first break in the entire time they’d been there, and Kadenn had already had enough of this bullshit.

“God damn…” Kadenn breathed, popping off his helmet and placing it next to his assault rifle. He ruffled his hair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. It was unnaturally hot within the suit, which was odd because it was usually cold enough that many soldiers needed secondary clothing underneath just to warm them up. But Kadenn and the rest of his unit – and from what the comm channel told him, the rest of the battle group – were burning up in their suits. The mission was a bust; Kadenn had figured that out at least. “This is a waste of time. No one’s here and the natives don’t know shit.”

“What if they’re just lyin’?” Pralto chirped in quickly. The boy, for reasons unknown to him, revered Kadenn to an almost unnatural level. Perhaps it was the fact that they were both Siius and Kadenn represented the Siius dream: A man who’s used his talent and ability to reach his pinnacle. To tell the truth, Kadenn was considered something of a hero back on the islands and especially in his home village. This Pralto kid had a point though, the inhabitants could be lying and harbouring Western Brotherhood; the thought had entered Kadenn’s mind but he’d dismissed it as bloodlust. “As far as we know Sir, this entire fucking city could be with the Brotherhood. I mean, we’ve already found weapons holed up in some odd places, and all these people have told us about them is that they’re ‘for protection’. I call bullshit…no fucking way these cow herders are packin’ MA3 assault rifles.” He smiled as if he’d just won the day by his “unbreakable” logic. “I say we go in, interrogate those sons of bitches and get some real answers.”

Kadenn was actually quite proud of the kid. It was rare to see a Siius boy that could use his head, or at least that’s what Kadenn thought. Anna stepped up next, her helmet to her side so that her hair light red hair fell to her shoulders and contrasted with the dark greyish blue of her armour. “Keep your dick in your pants mate.” She said loudly with a frown on her face “these people have no reason to lie, and if they were I reckon they’d have attacked us when our backs were turned. It doesn’t much make sense for them to side with a relatively new organization with little backing, training or anything like that. It’d be like siding with the scrawny little bastard in a basketball game rather than the professional baller.”

Kadenn hated her. He hated everything about her, just because she was who she was. He gritted his lolteeth and lifted himself off the ground. The only remaining squad member was Karson, but he kept to himself in the corner, fiddling with his rifle as he intently listened to the conversation; Kadenn knew what type of man he was, and it was odd but he reminded him of his brother. He would’ve observed the resemblance more if it wasn’t for the sudden influx of bullets that came whizzing their way. It had gone from a calm conversation between soldiers to a chaotic battleground so fast that if you were to blink, you might miss a key detail. Pralto hadn’t taken off his helmet and had his rifle already ready; breaking off from the hallway they were in to the corner wall, slamming his back behind the cover.

Anna launched herself behind the wall as well, smashing her helmet over her head and locking it into her place, cocking her gun quickly into the armed position. She took a prone position under Pralto and leaned over the wall, firing in short bursts as Pralto shot in a steady stream. Kadenn had sprinted to the wall on the opposite side. It was an upside down T with Pralto and Anna on the right, Kadenn on the left. The general popped his helmet on and cocked his gun as well, shooting at the assailants who had taken cover behind the open metallic doors of the apartment complex. It took only a few seconds before Kadenn had to reload, and as he did so his mind travelled to Karson. He hadn’t seen him move either way, and once he had leaned back over the wall to shoot he found his squad mate on the ground in a puddle of blood, his helmet intact but the visor ripped open, his face a bloody mess on the inside.

“Shit…” murmured Kadenn as more hostiles seemed to pour out of the woodwork. He tried to contact the other squad leaders but only got static and frantic yells in return. The mission had gone from a waste to an utter failure in a matter of moments, and his unit was quickly getting overwhelmed. It was as if the city had gone from a well of ignorance to an active beehive, armed citizens flowing out onto the battleground like water from a river. And to be perfectly honest….Kadenn loved it.

***

[The Anarchdom of Lrae-Epsos]
[Swords in the Sky]

[Retra Nuclear Plant, Eschel Post]
[Incursion]

Eschel Post, the backwater province with all of your illegal, poverty stricken needs. Perhaps it was because Eschel Post wasn’t a core region of Lrae-Epsos, still speaking Alpenic and holding a large number of Alpenisch people that it remained one of the poorest, most dangerous and backwards sections of the country. The Anarchdom had long ago converted the area into a utility zone, which at least gave it purpose, but it was quickly becoming a lone stain when compared to the rest of the country. And perhaps it was that lonely ugliness and isolation that made Eschel Post the perfect base of operations for the Western Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a faceless ghost, a previously unknown entity that had suddenly appeared to make its presence known.

And now it was time to take it to the next level.

“Engage!” came a cry suddenly from the fields outside of the Retra Company Nuclear Plant, a handful of men suddenly leaping off the thinly snow covered ground and sprinting towards the Plant. They were armed with old KAR-15 assault rifles, efficient in their time but quickly outmatched by the modern version. They shot wildly into the air, abandoning all traces of stealth and planning as a few of them chucked grenades at the large steel doors, the two large pieces of scrap metal falling over with a loud thump as the twenty or so men stormed in like a plague of locusts. The staff that was caught in the initial crossfire wouldn’t be honoured or even remembered in the slightest as they fell in a pool of their own blood. The Brotherhood was ruthless it seemed as the battle group systematically travelled through the plant, gunning down anyone they saw without even feeling a small bit of mercy.

Emerging as a leader, a tall, skinny blonde haired man took the helm as the small group of soldiers emerged back at the lobby of the nuclear plant. “Listen up” he started out, pulling his thick black mask from over his face to reveal a bony, pasty white face with thin whitish lips and cold, dark green eyes. “Plant the Octanitrocubane charges near the reactor, and support columns. We’re bringing this motherfucker down. While some of you are planting the rest of us’ll cover the place in butane. Once we’re all done we’ll blow this place to the fucking ground. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” He shrieked like a monkey as his men scrambled around the planet with large packs of Octanirocubane or “ONB” as they called it.

The blonde man himself went around with a drum of lighter fluid, hosing down everything in sight like a dog marking his territory as others came through with their own drums. ONB had a reputation among the Brotherhood, and as some of the men planted it, dosing the area around it with their own drums of lighter fluid, many of them felt like this was a bit of overkill. I mean, did the people really deserve this? Eschel Post wasn’t even all that loyal to the Anarchdom in the first place…perhaps this was unfair to them. But of course no one spoke up, even as they dropped the last of the butane and bolted out of the nuclear plant, the blonde haired man proudly looking over his work as the arranged helicopters came to pick them up.

It was the beauty of it all that amazed the blonde haired man as he and the others lobbed their remaining grenades into the plant and then leapt into the helicopter, lifting up into the air as he saw fires spark to life within the plant. It was an inferno, so to speak, as the nuclear plant was quickly engulfed in the viciously fed flames. Once the flames had reached the ONB, things began to quickly escalate as large sections of the plant exploded up into the air, plumes of nuclear fallout spreading in all directions. See, the Retra Plant is the third largest in all of Lrae-Epsos, the other located in far the western border of Epsos while the other lay in the far eastern border close to the city of Nevar. Eschel Post would be quickly covered in the excessive radioactive dust and debris. In the mind of the blonde haired man, hopefully the other groups set to attack the other two plants were just as successful.

The plume of radioactive dust was, however, amazing to behold as it lift into the air, the Brotherhood soldiers in amazement at the chaos and destruction they had caused as they slowly ascended higher and higher and towards their base on the border of Eschel Post and Kasselton. They enjoyed the taste of success on their lips, and thought about all the crying, screaming people below as they breathed in the toxic dust that would no doubt be the end of Eschel Post and the catalyst towards the utter destruction of the Anarchdom and the rise of Triple Republic.

Hail the Western Brotherhood! Hail The Archon! Hail Freedom!

***

[The Anarchdom of Lrae-Epsos]
[Swords in the Sky]

[The Capital Hall, Svael]
[Fallout]

Such destruction and chaos, and all Roman able to do was watch in shock and awe. The disaster of the Retra Plant would be something to remember in the following years and as he watched the scene unfold on the news he could only think of the political ramifications of such damage. He shuffled around his office within the Capital Hall, waiting for the inevitable knock on his door as a mob of ministers and other politician swamped him for attention and questions on how to act and respond to such a disaster. The media was calling it the event of the decade, documenting each opinion and thought on the event as if it really mattered. Roman knew that it wasn’t accident, that much he knew especially since he more or less owned Retra Company at this point. Safety was paramount with these people and for something like this to happen was near impossible unless foul play was involved. And given everything that had happened recently, foul play was most definitely involved.

Finally the knock came, yet instead of a mob came only his “brother” Shane; Maximilian Shane, to be exact, the minister of foreign affairs and the current prospective Anar Suulios. Shane was always well dressed, Roman noted, even when his arm was still in a sling from his encounter with a fanatic gunman. He walked with a pride and isolated sense of duty, and as he observed Roman staring intently at the television, he knew the exact words to say. “Calm down.”

“Calm down? How can I calm down with this bullshit happening in my country?” Roman was quickly getting upset with the whole ordeal. He’d just been informed that the raid team in Kessic had taken severe losses and was on the verge of being lost in the chaos. He’d authorized their immediate evacuation and the total destruction of Kessic, but now this was making that incredibly hard to stand behind, politically speaking. “These people are tearing through this place like rabid fucking animals. I can’t calm down with all this fucking nonsense!” He put his palm to his face and slowly shook his head. “It’s a fucking disaster, Shane.”

Shane stayed silent because he knew it was true. In his own mind he knew that this was a total fucking disaster. Kessic was lost, and with the amount of nuclear fallout spreading over Eschel Post, that was basically lost as well. “It gets worse, Roman….A group of Brotherhood gunmen have been detained near the eastern plant as well. At least we know for certain the destruction in Eschel Post was there doing.” He could see Roman mouth ‘Avok’ to himself before reburying his face in his palms, seating himself on the very ornate couch in front of the television, the reporter on the screen running her mouth as the fires of the plant raged, large plumes of smoke flying up and dust storms sweeping in all directions.

“How the fuck are the Alpenisch going to respond to this? You know they’ve been pressing for Eschel since fucking forever…God dammit this is sure to cause problems with them too. We’re struggling to rid ourselves of these terrorists; we can’t risk a war with these people as well.” He shook his head, “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” The reporter on screen suddenly shifted her attention away from the fires of the nuclear plant and onto the news of the detained Brotherhood members. At least she made the connection that perhaps the Brotherhood was most likely responsible for the trouble in Eschel, but it did little to relieve Roman’s anger. “I…I don’t know what to do Shane.”

“I suggest totalling Kessic. It’s obviously a centre of major activity for them. Just flatten it, and tell the people the truth about it. Tell them it was indoctrinated and its destruction was the only option. Abandon Eschel Post entirely though…we can’t help those people now. Evacuate those further away from the blast, but those within a thirty mile radius are lost. Show the people that you really are upset about that, and attempt to get them on your side. This is an excellent way to increase national unity…We were having trouble with that before this ever started. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise-“

“Shane, if you were anyone else I’d slap the absolute shi-“ Roman paused and smiled, shaking his head as the doors to his office once again opened, his daughter Nraeva scampering in. Her big grey eyes were red and puffy, her nose an equally bright shade of crimson with small, drippy bits of snot sliding out. She was around seven years old, as old as Roman’s reign actually, but just the sight of her crying now wiped all trace of concern for the country at large. “What’s wrong baby?” He asked, scooping her up in his arms, hugging her tightly.

“I-I-I-fell down the steps an-an-and-” She breathed heavily, sniffling too much to even finish her sentence. Roman only hugged her, smiling widely as Shane kept a neutral glare. He loved the girl too, she was his niece after all, but he felt it odd that Roman would drop everything for her. It was a parent thing, he supposed.

“Well don’t worry baby, everything will be alright, yea’? Here, watch some TV while Uncle Shane and I finish speaking. When we’re done I’ll take you to lunch. How’s that sound?” She smiled weakly and took the remote he handed her while he stood up and walked towards Shane, leaning and whispering into his ear. “Listen…this is a total fucking disaster. You obviously know how to handle this, so please do…I’ll be behind you.”

Shane nodded, and just as quickly as he had come, he vanished.

***

[The Anarchdom of Lrae-Epsos]
[Swords in the Sky]

[Kessic, Kasselton]
[Bombardment]

Kadenn had been enjoying himself a little too much. It had taken them a few hours but they’d escaped the apartment complex and made it back to the extraction point. Apparently the entire city was just one big hive of Brotherhood activity, and Pralto was on the money when he said they’d been lying and hording some pretty powerful weaponry. It was a struggle for the three of them to make it back, but they had and now they were holed up on the roof of this building, all entry points boarded up as Pralto and Anna took defensive positions and Kadenn tried to radio the camp. He had had enough of this shithole of a city and was ready to get the fuck out of there.

His rifle was slung over his body and he positioning himself differently so to get a better reception. There was a voice, but it was faint. He knew it was Irin, but that did little to sooth his need to leave. They were all certain that there were snipers in the area, and so they had surrounded themselves with large metal columns and fixtures that had been scattered inside the building and around the roof. It was this that attributed to the poor radio reception, and Kadenn, being the man he was, knew they were in some deep shit. He quickly switched positions with Anna next to Pralto, and threw his helmet off to look the kid in the face. He was covered in sweat and he looked like a hot mess. “Kid, we’re in trouble…We either need to survive for the next two hours or get those bastards in the camp on radio. And I don’t see us surviving with the little bit of ammo we have left and with these fucking suits cooking us on the inside. Anna, got anything?”

“Not a damn thing sir. I’m picking up static and faint voices, and…Shit, General, look out there; looks like one of ours is trying to make a run for us. Must’ve climbed up the fire escape.” Kadenn wheeled around and started out of a little hole of their defences. He could see a man sprinting towards them decked out in T.I.T.A.N.S gear, ducking and weaving as laser sights rippled over his body. Anna opened up a small section of their makeshift and fort and the soldier leapt in once he made it, panting heavily after throwing off his helmet into the pile. “Nice job…”

“Thanks” said the man, dark haired and probably in his mid-thirties. He looked like an Lraenite, but it was hard to tell. “We the only ones left?” He said it breathlessly, and was on all fours as he got himself together. He looked up to see Pralto nod, then return to looking out of his scope at the buildings. Pralto was looking east while Anna was in the middle facing south, Kadenn looking west. The new guy, a man named Delton, was quickly situated and took position facing north despite the absence of any sort of gun besides his side arm. He told the unit he had to drop it because it weighed him down. “I mean I’d rather drop the rifle then get my brains blasted out.”

“Well, you’re here now, so make yourself useful and check out the north. Anna, anything yet?” Kadenn was getting annoyed with the incompetence of the camp. Or perhaps it was his own incompetence and his current positions lack of open air that resulted in their current situation. Either way, the man cursed and blessed the storm of artillery shells that suddenly began to rain down upon them. The buildings surrounding them were quickly flattened, bloody bursts of Brotherhood hostiles confirming their suspicions of snipers. They didn’t have time to celebrate as they sprinted towards the door and Pralto bashed through with his shoulder.

The hallways of this particular building were cleared, and Kadenn suspected that the Brotherhood had cleared out once the shells started dropping. Either way they made a mad dash to the bottom, firing a few random shots just in case to scare away any stragglers. Kadenn could see the city around them going up in flames and ashes, the camp laying waste to it with the artillery and it only took a second for Kadenn to connect the dots that the bombers weren’t far off. Once they reached the ground floor, they quickly searched for the basement. There must’ve been one since every building they had entered thus far had one, and with the ceiling crumbling above them it was that or death.

“Quickly, quickly, quickly, get the fuck in here!” Kadenn shrieked like a mad man once he found it, his unit sprinting into the dark void below with their general following shortly. The last thing Kadenn heard was the roar of an airplane engine above them as shells destroyed the building. There was only a dim ceiling light to assure them all that they weren’t dead, but that would go out soon once the city was totally gone and the power was out. At least they had made it, grasping onto life as the world around them shook and stirred, pelted by artillery shells, cruise missiles and incendiary bombs.

Kessic was turned to ash, Eschel Post into a nuclear wasteland and Lrae-Epsos was descending into madness. The swords in the sky were falling, wiping out everything in their path and coating the land in a thick covering of blood.

[-Deus-]

[The Anarchdom of Lrae-Epsos]
[Swords in the Sky - End]

[The Capital Hall, Svael]
[30 Days of Aftermath]

"I...It's not easy to stand in front of you all today. It's not easy for me to explain the amount of sorrow and sadness I feel for the destruction caused in the last month by those that call themselves a "peaceful brotherhood for the people". But as your Anarch, I feel it is not my right, but my privilege to serve you and of course a part of serving you is explaining the past thirty-days. What began as a simple broadcast on the 2nd of this month quickly escalated into a quick succession of brutal terror attacks that have left many of us without friends, family and coworkers. What began perhaps as a civil display of disobedience and disappointment quickly became a tantrum, a spilled over bottle of rage frothing up and creating a mess that may take years to clean up." Roman was a very eloquent man, or at least was often described as such. He held an ease on that podium that made his voice resonate across the field on which the people and media sat.

The Shepard speaking to his sheep.

"Once their statement was made on the 2nd of this month, reports were made of fires above Kessic, smoke so thick it blocked out the sun. Avok himself could not have saved these people, but I and my staff felt that we at least had to attempt such an operation. Therefore, in the following week we setup a makeshift base camp and prepared a task force to infiltrate the city. On the night of the tenth we bombarded the area within a three mile radius of the city, turning it into a charred wasteland so as to perhaps scare the rebels into surrender. It had no effect. Therefore, on the following day we transported a unit of thirty-six T.I.T.A.N.S by helicopter directly into the city with the intent to capture any hostiles and evacuate any citizens. This of course failed, as it was discovered by Elder General Kadenn Drazevktan that it appeared the majority of the city was indoctrinated by the rebels, attacking the unit and laying waste to their numbers rather quickly. Operation Sky Sword, as it was called, was a complete failure with a total of thirty-two M.I.A casualties."

He cleared his throat and took in a deep breath, all eyes wide and glued to him as he shuffled through his notes. The raised platform he was on was very simply decorated in white and blue, members of his staff seated in simple wooden chairs to his right. Kadenn and his unit was first, decked out in full military attire, with their faces cleaned up as best as possible but they were still scarred and battered with an air of unnatural calmness surrounding them. Kadenn had his arm in a cast that covered his entire arm and side, a metal beam connecting the arm to his upper side to keep it propped up and supported. They had dug him and his unit out of the rubble of Kessic when a clean-up crew had come to document the destruction. They had been trapped in the basement for over two days and wen it finally collapsed they were able to escape, although Kadenn broke his arm forcibly removing it from the rubble that threatened to crush him. Doctors were worried that he may never use that arm again, but as disgust and sick as it was Kadenn had seemed apathetic towards his injury and even somewhat overjoyed about his experience within Kessic.

"It is with great sorrow of course that I have to confirm the rumors: the entire area of Kessic has been reduced to nothing more than smoldering ash. Some of you may feel this is inhumane, however we assure you that if there was an alternative we would've taken it. Our intelligence informed us that the city was nothing more than a hive of rebel activity, and for that reason it had to be destroyed. Plans for a rebuilt, New Kessic, have been made and the estimated time of completion is within the decade." There was a sort of stoic clap, and to be honest no one knew why exactly that started congratulating chaos and death, but they were. They were celebrating the fact that a rebel hive had been taken out, that the blood of countless "enemies" had been spilled and that the evil was gone now. It was a little sickening to Roman and the few others that realized that.

"Which brings me to the Eschel Post affair and Nevari detainment. Post-crisis investigative reports have confirmed that, due to the amount of radioactive debris spread by the explosion and wind, a fifty-mile effect radius is documented. Those within twenty miles of the blast are sadly suffering and currently undergoing treatment along with those within the fifty-mile radius. For safety reasons a large concrete wall shall be erected so as to keep citizens away from the danger zone. Families effected have been relocated to further away sections of Eschel Post and have been given appropriate compensation. However nothing can compensate for the amount of environmental, economical and societal damage done by this attack. The Western Brotherhood has admitted to attacking the Retra Plant, and the rebels whom controlled Kessic and attempted the same sort of attack on the Nevari plant have been confirmed as affiliates of the Brotherhood. Those detained have been sentenced to life imprisonment until further notice, and I can only hope that the amount of destruction and death these people have caused it worth their goal."

"What many of you have called the "Thirty Days Conflict" is nothing more than a temper tantrum of children and I guarantee their swift and severe punishment. As we speak our intelligence agencies are closing in on their base of operations which we believe is located in Eschel Post and their leader, a so-called Aaron Fineman, who will be brought to justice. I apologize for all the bloodshed, and once more assure my people that I will do everything in my power to restore order. Thank you." Roman bowed and walked away as the media clamored towards the raised platform for interviews and questions while the people clapped. It was a boisterous clap and he knew the people watching it on television were just as riled up as those present. Nationalistic pride, Shane was right, the bloodshed was uniting them against a common foe and they called for blood and vengeance. It was dangerous...And if used incorrectly could cripple the nation more than build it up.

He climbed solemnly into his car, the opaque windows hiding him from the public eye. His wife, Vera, sat waiting for him with their daughter seated beside her. It was odd to see them together like this and Roman took awhile to admire it before Vera spoke up. "So we're returning to Geara Doga now, I hope? This whole ordeal has been exhausting..."

"Yes, yes very exhausting...But soon we'll be away from all of this insanity, back in our home. I can only hope however that these people remain as quiet as they have recently. Fu-" he quickly spied his smiling little girl "freaking rebels. When you're Anarchess, hopefully you won't have to deal with this." He held his little daughter tight and kissed her forehead. "I've had enough of this. Driver, take us home."

They quickly disappeared into the swiftly setting sun, the people rising in nationalistic pride as the Brotherhood sunk into obscurity, planning their next move as they shuffled in the dark like rodents. Yet elsewhere in the shadows...

***

"So everything is going smoothly in Lrae, yes?" a voice said soothingly, emanating from the corner of a dimly lit room. The man speaking slowly emerged from the darkness, showing himself to be a tall, muscular giant of a man with short black hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was dressed rather plainly, but the way he held himself -- proud, distinguished, a man of wealth and influence -- told his story well. "Entire generations of my family have waited for this, and now we're still waiting. The entire purpose of nearly five generations was to achieve this and now we're so close."

"Yes' came the reply 'yes, you are close. Ten years, my lord...ten years and you will be ready." He was the skinny blonde haired man from the Retra Plant attack, his voice calm and submissive under the unknown noble. "Things were a success in Lrae-Epsos, but I'm sure we wouldn't be here if they weren't." The hulk of a man nodded. "Our next step is to prepare them; Victor is already twenty-one my lord...Ivan is eight-teen. They grow impatient."

"Yuri, you are one of my closest friends and most loyal soldiers. Tell them, from me, to follow my direction as they are the sons and I the father. They've been preparing since birth, and now they must wait for their brother. He is my heir, after all...Ursul is the one I've chosen to succeed me and take back the throne for certain." His voice boomed across the little room, little Yuri nothing but a bug compared to this man. "Victor hall be his general and Ivan his adviser. Of course I haven't told them my intentions but in time I will." His voice trailed off before resuming it's commanding nature. "Have Ursul immediately flown in, enroll him in the best local academy; the boy has had enough of that foreign filth."

"Yes my lord." Yuri bowed his head and started towards the door. "I assure you, sire, that everything will go on without a hitch. In ten years time, Ursul will be eight-teen and crowned the true lord of Epsos...I assure it."

"Yes, yes of course. I have faith in you. I have faith in my blood, in my heritage and in my Gods!" The man chuckled, and then nodded slowly as Yuri began to leave, walking down the hallway with slow, methodical steps. The giant man quickly followed after him, and entered the elevator first. As the doors slowly closed, Yuri instead waiting for the next one, the noble smiled widely and had the final word. "And get rid of that Western Brotherhood nonsense. The Iri have no brothers but themselves..." He smiled and disappeared into the Alpenreich night, a ghost of the past that would usher in the future with swords and guns.