Twilight of the Gods: A Metahuman RP (IC)

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Matthias Kuhn, The Namenzida’s Right Hand
The Royal Palace, Mumbai, India
Around 2:00 pm GMT+5:30, June 3rd, 2020

---

25 percent of the current price? Surely she jests. Matthias thought to himself, stifling a laugh as he looked at Marsah’s expression. She appeared to be serious in her demand. Surely Marsah should know that he would never accept that. It would be incredibly foolish and damaging to not only their economy, but their reputation.

“We have the forces.” Matthias began, “The majority of Middle Eastern Lords, Middle Eastern Warlords and North African Warlords support the Namenzida. Those Warlords who do not support the Namenzida will be eliminated and replaced by individuals loyal to my Lord. This has been in the works for over a decade. The region will be more stable under the Namenzida, and you do not need to worry about India knowing beforehand, after all, you aren’t the only Great Lord to know my Lord’s plan.”

“However, if you are really concerned with that, I promise you that after the blood has been spilled, there will be nothing to tie India to my Lord’s coup.” He paused, “With that in mind, we can not accept selling at only 25 percent of the current price. You must understand that it is outrageous and borderline insulting. In fact, the only thing keeping me from leaving due to that demand is that the Namenzida respects you.”

“We are willing to offer a 5 percent reduction in current prices.”

[Revlona]

Marsah

The Fire Queen stopped a grimace at the man’s words and ultimate counter proposal. He thought her original proposal was a insult? How dare he. She fought to keep her temper under control as he watched her, knowing that she would need a cool head to deal with the man in front of her.

She started off with a laugh, it was a practiced sound and didn’t sound forced but instead clear and full of humor. “Come now my friend, you know how this works. I offer an unacceptable proposal and you must offer one back,” she said, still smiling for a moment. The smile left her face then.

“But do not dare to insult me as you did just now again, I am told I have a temper after all.” She said, abruptly standing her voice cold and hard, her eyes just the same.

“Your coup in that gods forsaken desert of yours might just succeed, but it matters not if I turn the whole region to glass. And who would stop me if I so wished it? The Nazi? She would have to cross the pacific to even try and even then she’d be thrown back. The communist? He has his own oil supplies and I see no reason for him to come south when I could just sell him my new deposit of glass. The Chinese? They’re to busy fighting eachother to care. What about the North Americans? No they would be lucky to have a Great Lord still by the end of the month.” Marsah said, her tone angry and yet still calm oddly enough.

“Do not mistake me, I am not your friend yet, you’re still negotiating that.” The Fire Queen said as she took her seat once more, her tone controlled and diplomatic again.

“I’d be willing to head out a 40% price reduction,” she then said, as if nothing had happened.

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Matthias Kuhn, The Namenzida’s Right Hand
The Royal Palace, Mumbai, India
Around 2:00 pm GMT+5:30, June 3rd, 2020

---

“25 percent.” Matthias instantly responded with, “I have not claimed you to be a friend. Nor has the Namenzida. Respect does not equate to camaraderie. One can respect their enemy just as much as they can respect their allies. Whether he respects you as an ally, as a fellow individual, or as an enemy is completely up to you.”

“What is stopping you? Well, allow me to answer,” A coldness now present in his tone, “It would be an unprecedented event of aggression. A war not between the Lordships within a Great Lordship, but between Great Lordships. A war started because one party lost their temper during a rather mundane negotiation. Such an event would surely catch the attention of the other Great Lords. While some may sit back and do nothing, others will surely act, seeing this aggression as a threat to the fragile order of the world.”

He paused, “Such an event will surely get the attention of the King and Queen as well. After all, such a volatile element would not be good for the system.”

“Of course, this is all theoretical,” the older man's tone returning to normal, “And just the opinions of an old man who believes you are not foolish enough to be the first to step into such an unknown position.”

[Revlona]

Marsah

“35 percent,” Marsah shot back almost as fast as she tried to keep a grin off her face, the man in front of her was fun to negotiate with even if irritating. It made sense though, he was not acting on the behalf of some lower lord come to do homage to one above him. Instead he had come as the emissary of a lord who already saw himself as her equal, even if that wasn’t true yet.

“Would, could, should, if. We have used those words a lot in this conversation, or if not those words some similar to them. If you succeed, I could make a new land of glass, should I thought? Probably not, as you said this is a rather mundane negotiation between a Great Lord and the Emissary of a want to be Great Lord.” She said, smiling now.

“Put like that it seems a lot less mundane right?” The Fire Queen said,

“On the world stopping me or trying to stop me, who knows. As I said they’re rather busy. The Americas want to fight themselves and eachother. The Chinese want to fight themselves. The Europeans want to fight themselves. They’re so busy fighting themselves that they gave the Morrigan a little slap on the wrist, if you can even call it that, for destroying an entire city and killing many friendly forces along with the city. No, I doubt they do anything.” She said, smiling still.

“And the monarch’s, how I admire the monarchs, the greatest of us all, and yet even I must admit when I see fault. I doubt the monarchs will ever come back to earth for anything. Every year we go to them on their station away from earth, every year and not once have the come to the lands they conquered. Do you really think they would intervene for a slab of land that both of their former nations spent decades bombing to hell in some fashion or another, directly or indirectly. I don’t.” She said finally, the smile disappearing for a second.

“35%, it’s as low as I’ll go.” She finished off with after a slight pause.

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Matthias Kuhn, The Namenzida’s Right Hand
The Royal Palace, Mumbai, India
Around 2:00 pm GMT+5:30, June 3rd, 2020

---

“Politics will be politics, no matter if it is between superhumans or normal humans.” Matthias stated plainly. This was entertaining, but it appeared that the negotiations were coming towards an end. “Well, that was a different time, under a different order. Perhaps they wouldn’t intervene, or perhaps they would. But as you said, who knows.”

“Unfortunately, 35 percent is still too high.” He sighed, “The highest we can do is 30 percent. If you are not willing to go that low, then these negotiations are over. I thank you for your time.”

With that, he turned around and began to walk away.

[Revlona]

Marsah

Marsah smirked as the older man turned to leave. It didn’t much bother her, he wouldn’t get far after all. Almost as if reading her thoughts two large men in the uniforms of the Royal Guard appeared, the invisibility cloaking them dropping away.

“Perfect timing as ever Aemu,” The Fire Queen said as more and more of the Royal Guard appeared as if from thin air.

“Of course my Queen,” Lieutenant Aemu, a thing and balding man said sweat bearing on his forehead and in his hair at the obvious strain it took to cloak himself and the dozen or so other Guardsmen with his powers.

“I’m not sure how it works in your territories emissary, but you are here at my pleasure and I did not dismiss you.” She said, her voice colder than ever, it was an odd contrast to her fiery temper and powers.

“I’m sure you did not mean it as the insult it is, to turn your back and make to leave without permission. Knowing this I am willing to forgive your transgressions and allow you a second chance to consider my offer of 34 percent,” she said.

The Royal Guardsmen made no move towards the aging emissary, in fact they seemed to almost ignore him as they all stared straight ahead. Other than Aemu their leader who paced to take a place besides the foot of the throne and seemed to stare daggers into the transgressing diplomat.

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Matthias Kuhn, The Namenzida’s Right Hand
The Royal Palace, Mumbai, India
Around 2:00 pm GMT+5:30, June 3rd, 2020

---

The appearance of the Royal Guardsmen did not surprise him, nor was he surprised when she all but demanded that he stay. This was part of the plan after all. If she was still willing to negotiate, she would act. If she wasn’t, she would have let him go. At least that was the thought process. And, it seemed his plan worked to a degree, as Marsah lowered her demand. Albeit, it was by a measly 1 percent, but it was something.

“I did not mean to insult you.” Matthias said and turned around to face the Fire Queen again, “I was merely taking the initiative as it seemed our negotiation was over, and thus I did not want to waste your time. While I appreciate your offer, as I have stated, I can not go higher than 30 percent.”

He paused for a moment, “Unless, of course, we receive a guarantee that South Asia will import a majority of their imported oil from our domain. In that case, we may be able to entertain your current offer, under a guarantee that South Asia will have our oil make up at least 60 percent of their import needs."

[Arlye Austros]

Pvts. Carolina Swett Amunategui and Santiago Menzendorf Carvallo
Status: A.W.O.L.
Cobar, New South Wales.
June 4th.

Exchanges of worried and wondering looks were made amongst those in the room at the second floor.
“That sounds good…” Aaron muttered. But he then looked at Carolina. “Although I could really use a copy of the Geneva Conventions right now. Anyone took Pre-Coup Institutionality?”
Arturo turned. He had been leaning on a window frame, keeping close watch and firing line on the opposite side of the Mining Site. He quickly gestured Santiago to cover him as he walked to the center of the room.

“I think he refers to the Third Convention… Article three prohibits, as a minimum, the taking of hostages, murder and cruel treatment, outrages against personal dignity…” the boy counted with his fingers and turned his eyes up to recall the last one word by word. Then followed. “…sentences and executions without a proper trial. It also obligates the parts to treat the wounded and sick. Article thirteen also ensures the protection of POWs from harmful situations, medical experimentation and mutilation. Oh! And humiliation and public curiosity.”
“Well. That means we wouldn’t be war trophies.” Lutana chuckled. Good to know.
“Something else. No reprisal can be taken.” Arturo seemed compelled to complete that section of his dissertation. Santiago, who scoped down into the spaces between the foundry buildings, chuckled. The field was somewhat silent. The looters had fully retreated.

“That means some of us can cover our retreat. It doesn’t matter if the rest continues the fight. Right?” He asked, looking down at the talc-covered patches of ashen land.
“Yes… technically speaking.”
A silence befell the group. A voice replied in the radio. ”You all think there is no way out?”
Aaron had, somehow, been redirecting this conversation to a number of radios across Cobar. Amir sounded somewhat unwilling to give in.
”It’s my hometown, after all.”
Another silence. Santiago could have replied that they all had to give up their homes. But then, he understood his feelings, and didn’t find it right to attack them.
“We can’t hold it.” A voice replied which Santiago didn’t recognize. Carolina, still sitting against the wall, shattered the silence in the room.
“So. How do we plan to get out?”


From her position, Beatrice could see the arc created by the enemy, held by two axes of attack that were spearheaded by towering blackstone figures. He gave some instructions to the pair of squads that held the trenches at the base of the southernmost foundry in the mining site. Right in front of her, the hill that had been used as the HQ of the Africans had fallen, abandoned and silent. She wondered if capturing it wouldn’t pose any threat to the Poles.
But what for now?
“Get ready to open covering fire for O.B.Q.!” She yelled from her side of the wall, perched to the cement with her stone-crushing hold on the torn structure.



Adrian had listened to the plan and was waiting for the signal. Escalonated retreats to the Heritage Site. After that… He could only guess. The Mining Site had been secured, but he wondered how long they could hold it against the new enemy. He accounted only twenty-three in his command. Ten had been lost in the battle.

Their front was held by three groups with heavy machineguns. They were on their last few rounds, so would have to be abandoned. The guns, placed behind makeshift barricades in the street facing the northernmost axis posed by the Poles, were rigged with frag grenades to explode five minutes after the last shot. Good thing two of his boys had studied mechanics and one had experience in making nice I.E.D.s, hopefully it would give those black knights something to be surprised about.

He signal came. A rocket was shot on the horizon that the Poles held. It was too high, though. Deliberately high.
“Open fire!” He yelled. The barricades flared up their last rounds as the rest took their things and marched out of the workyard into a passage to a backstreet. The signal was also seen by other O.B.Q. units in the area, which merged with their main body in the street.

As the last rounds were spent, a line of fire was opened from the south of the Mining Site on the Polish axes, using mostly light arms. It would last a few minutes alone.
“This is O.B.Q., we are falling back to you, C.H.S.! I hope your plan works!”
“Let’s do more than just hope, O.B.Q., we are waiting for you.”



Lutana guided Carolina downstairs. She wasn’t looking forward to this, but it had to be done. Aaron looked at Santiago. He knew what he intended to do, even though he wouldn’t say it in front of his girlfriend.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked. Santiago smiled while checking his rifle.
“No. But it is our best shot. I can’t be alone though. You jumping into this?”

Aaron wasn’t so keen on becoming a prisoner of war. “No. I heard Beatrice is willing. I blocked her words, though. Just in case Carolina listened.”
He was still holding that black box, and he felt as though he couldn’t stop fiddling with it. He was both aware and not of it’s presence. “If they see through the ruse, who knows what they might do.”

Santiago nodded, dismissing those fears. “We shall see. Let’s just stick to the plan.” The Bullerite stood up and headed once more to the balcony. “Be ready to transmit.” He said, aiming to the horizon and opening fire on the Polish southern flank, joining the fire presented by Beatrice, already responded by the enemy forces, as the meta leapt down from a foundry tower before it was shattered by a tank round.

Aaron sighed and placed the radio next to Santiago’s head. The fire died out, which meant O.B.Q. was clear.

“This is Private Santiago Menzendorf. Currently in charge of the Cobarite Garrison. I am personally taking your offer along with the remainder of my unit. My people are attempting to contact the other units across the town to cease fire and join me in a single spot to make our surrender easier and clear from any mistakes. I request you limit your hostility to only responding fire and avoid taking out our runners. Give me twenty minutes.”
It was done. Aaron retreated the radio.
“You think they will bite?”

Santiago shrugged and looked through the scope on the Polish lines but didn’t open fire.
“They know we have limited means to fight armored vehicles. They know fighting is pointless and they know that we know. Yeah. I think they will.”
A set of blasts rocked the north-eastern side of the town. Adrian’s evacuation pyrotechnics.
“We should head down.”

The groups that came in were from Amir’s, Beatrice and Adrian, whose first runners were arriving into the open field. There were also bodies littered around. Santiago looked around, but Carolina was not on sight, nor was Lutana. No doubt they were already down below, as he could smell a pungent air coming from the shafts.
He quickly looked around and estimated fifty, with Adrian’s people coming in through a gate at the hedge. Loose gunfire could be heard across the town, to which Santiago smiled.

“I left a few shooters back to make a mock-resistance, but they know they have limited time and will fall back within twenty.” Adrian explained. “It was a good fight.”
“It wasn’t a fight.” Beatrice replied, her frown reinforcing her beastly factions. “We dealt with the looters, but we could barely dent these people. Poles you said?”
Aaron nodded. “Yes. There is little to be done here. At least they can take care of the wounded we leave behind.”
Santiago chose to start talking. Amir was nearby, but he didn’t seem too willing to contest any authority.

“Everybody, listen up! We know we can’t fight them. But I understand most of you would rather stay free and keep your options open. I would say these are the most gentle surrender terms we will ever get, but I would rather keep fighting.”

He could see a general agreement in the faces that nodded at him. A distant gun blazed a second before falling silent. Some of Adrian’s people were carried in by the shoulders, some looking in worse shape than others, and were left on the ground nearby. Janna was there too, still in a coma.

“We are trying to get as much time as possible, but we can’t bargain on their trust. When they come and see we are gone it’s probably not going to play on our advantage. I need people to stay behind and play as if we set up the resistance and take care of the wounded until they get proper aid. The enemy promised it, and I have no reason to believe they are not keeping their promise. But I won’t risk the wounded to the chance they feel cheated.”

Beatrice smiled and raised her hand. “I’ll stay!”

Adrian seemed to consider this option, but didn’t offer himself up. Amir seemed to consider it too. Perhaps he would rather be captured than flee his hometown?
“Thanks!” Santiago replied. “But please consider that you have a chance of fleeing, which I would personally take.”

Amir seemed to hear and nod in silence. Two of his people raised their hands and volunteered. “I’ll stay!” One said. “This was our home, my fight ends here.”
Others seemed to join too. Aaron spoke up. “I’ll stay too…”

“No…” Beatrice interrupted. “It’ll kill Luta. Besides, you are far too useful to navigate the desert.”
Santiago agreed. “I’d say we can make the part with fifteen. We can say others fled to the west or joined the looters in their rout.”

A few more hands went up, and he saw two amongst the wounded who offered to stay too, despite being able to walk.
“It’s set, then. Seventeen will stay along with eight badly wounded.” Beatrice counted quickly.

“So it would seem. Take care of yourself, Trice.” Aaron muttered before hugging her friend. “We should be getting down to the mines.”
“Once we get the signal from Lutana.” Santiago stopped him. The crowd exchanged looks and farewells. Some were kin, and they hadn’t been set apart in a long time. A distant explosion marked another faked fight, and two more came running through the gate, asking what was going on.
Eighteen would stay.

Santiago gave one last look at Aaron, who passed him a radio and wished him luck. Then he turned to the others who would remain with him and gave them a quick set of instructions. In minutes the two groups had been set apart. While those leaving walked orderly into the shaft and towards the depths, Santiago’s took positions in two concentric rings of defense. One was closer to the mining site and was a silent position: nobody was to open fire when in that place. The outer ring was a fire zone, and squads made by three would go between both rings, opening fire on the encroaching Poles or into the air, simulating a stronger defense.

He led the first sortie out, as they moved to the northern edge of the Site and crossed the street, then passed into the park and laid low before spraying in the direction of one of the Knights. They didn’t wait for a check on results. Before anything, they pulled away, out of sight from the enemy. Santiago pulled out his radio.

“15th, be advised. Some elements of the Garrison haven’t laid down their arms. We are moving in to engage them in order to control the situation with as little bloodshed as possible!” He lied into the radio. They needed time. He had to give Carolina as much time as possible.
In response, other squads opened sporadic fire in distant houses across the outer perimeter, simulating a loose firefight across the town.



José Alejandro Menzendorf.
Île de Amsterdam.

It seemed there was a consensus of possible gains on a change in leader ship in the North American Union. José was, despite being the one who pushed the idea, hiding second thoughts. What if this affected his girls somehow? How could he be sure of their safety?
“An assassination might be necessary, but it may also antagonize us with some people within the N.A.U.” He exposed carefully. José had taken seat again and crossed his fingers under his chin.

“If we can avoid killing it would be a positive output. Perhaps people within the congress or some of the Governors can be swayed to make a move and pass additional power to our man. ”

He looked at Líszt. “If we can just give the Reich that the N.A.U. has access to the Harpune, it will antagonize the Reich and give a chance for a political shift within the N.A.U. On the contrary, if we can prove the Harpune is in the Reich’s hands and that they are willing to use it on the N.A.U. specifically, I am sure it can cause the same earthquake. After either option, we could have a chance to move the strings and get people more sympathetic to our cause in better positions of power.”
He then turned to Gatekeeper. “In the midst of it all, the amounts of refugees that have been admitted to the N.A.U. could also provide an opportunity. In any case, however, we must not endanger them.”

After a brief sigh, José decided to back down again and let the others play their thoughts. He was going to use his fading authority exclusively to keep the girls safe. And anything else would be a spending of that authority. But in his mind he was wondering what else could be done about Australia, and if Santiago could be found, by some miracle.

[Naval Monte]

Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne, Occupied Australia. 10 June 2020

SS Gruppenführerin Kristina Steiner, acting commander of the Reich’s forces in Australia, stood motionless. Today was a day of some importance, as command over the occupation would officially pass to Alexandra Ashwood before she would be named the Great Lord of Oceania. Representatives of the different Houses were all present, but as Viktoria had been the commander of the expedition to subdue Australia, it fell upon Kristina to transfer command over to Alexandra. Of course, the other Great Houses all pledged to continue to assist, and at present, their forces would remain to stamp out the remnants of the Resistance.

Loyal Lords from Oceania were also present, including lords from Tasmania and New Zealand, eager to show their support to their new Overlord.

Within a room kept to herself the lady of the hour sat on a chair, her elbows on her lap as she held her head with her hands, looking increasingly agitated. Normally such an occasion would be a cause for great jubilation as she was now in a great position to give more credence to her ideology and allow it to find more willing followers.

But one fact always nags at her which sours any joy she can get from the event.

Her position as a great lord, and the whole ceremony to make it official, was a farce.

She wasn’t a great lord. She is still a damn vassal being given a miserable dirt pile that everyone turned into ruins so she can rebuild into a proper nation because she did it once before with Albion.

No one is gonna see her as a great lord since she was still under Morrígan’s rule. She wouldn’t even be surprised if most think that it was Morrígan that has Australia as her new fief. She was just being used a puppet to hide the “truth”.

“I should have stayed home.” she grumbled.

Alexandria would hear the door open and her eyes would shift to a SS officer standing in front of the door.

“Ma’am. We’re ready to start the ceremony.” The witch was silent as she got up and followed the officer outside of the room to go through the event.

As Alex entered the hall, the officers snapped to attention. Kristina, with all the elegance and authority she wielded, approached Alex and handed her a ceremonial sword.

“I, SS Gruppenführerin Kristina Steiner, speaking on behalf of Her Imperial and Royal Majesty, Viktoria, Empress of South America, Queen of Argentina, Chancellor of the Reich, Führerin of the National Socialist Workers Party, Reichsleiterin of Argentina, Reichsführerin-SS, the Great Lord of South America and Supreme Commander of the Dynastic Forces in Oceania, transfer command of all Congressional forces in Oceania to you, Alexandria Ashwood, Thaumarch of Albion. Do you accept this transfer?”

Alex was silent as she heard the white hair girl speak a line she rehearsed for this moment. Would the other great lords actually transfer their forces? She is aware that doing so shows that they trust her to lead their forces but she has to wonder how many would actually do such a thing to a relatively new face in their little clique?

She also pondered why the white hair girl standing in front of her was chosen? She found it odd that a Nazi was doing the speech instead of a representative from the royal couple.

"On hindsight... They probably don't trust me with their servants after what happened to the previous one who acted as their messenger.”

Alex grabbed the sword so her mind can quickly be taken away from recalling the second messenger who told her everything that occurred with the other one.

“Yes. I accept this transfer.”

Kristina saluted Alex, backing away sombrely and joining her fellow officers. As she did, from the opposite side of the hall, in walked a procession of courtiers from Olympus, members of the Royal Court who served and attended the High King and Queen of Earth.

They procession stopped in front of Alex, and their herald pulled out a scroll.

“By the Grace of their Imperial and Royal Majesties, I stand before you, witnessed by the Royal Court, the Dynastic Congress, and the officers of the Great Lords: Hammer and Columbia have spoken. Alexandria Ashwood will immediately take control of the Great Lordship of Oceania and serve as its steward. Will you accept?”

Alexandria was silent. “Yes.” she replied back in a neutral tone.

The herald nodded and approached a table, laying the scroll down and gesturing.

“Please, sign with your seal,” he instructed. The scroll laid out the feudal contract between the King and Queen and Alex.

Alex would walk to the table and grab the quil that was next to the scroll. She would dip the point in the ink and write down her signature in the scroll.

She would take out a dagger and cut the palm of her hand. She would allow drops of blood come down next to her signature. She would wait until the blood bolt was big enough before she pressed a ring baring her family symbol on it.

With that concluded, the herald rolled the scroll back up and turned towards Alex.
“That’s it then.”

[Britanania]

Near Burg Eisenfaust, outside of Welthauptstadt Germania, Königreich Argentinien, Südamerikanischesreich, 11 June 2020

The Morrígan’s arrival was met with the expected pomp and circumstance that one would expect for an arriving Great Lord, with a formal state dinner between the emissaries and the Reich Cabinet. As the diplomats and foreign ministers met to discuss matters of policy, Viktoria invited the Morrígan and her aide-de-camp for a hunting excursion on Viktoria’s vast estates outside of the city.

And so the group found themselves in a wooded part of Viktoria’s holdings, deer and fallow hunting early in the morning, just as the sun rose over the hills. Here, away from the politics and stresses of reigning, the group of Reich and Western Europeans could enjoy themselves without any pressure.

Viktoria handed out a few rifles: 1810 Neue Korps-Jägerbüchse. Everyone was given one of them, with a few adjutants keeping several in reserve.

“Each one of us gets six bullets,” Viktoria announced as she loaded her rifle and checked her pistol. “Make the most of them.”

As she awkwardly loaded the unfamiliar rifle, Aisling remained silent among the entourage.

Freyja was also strangely quiet during the trip out to the woods, mostly giving uncomfortable looks toward Viktoria and attempting to steal glances at the Morrígan. Her mood shifted, quite expectedly, to jovial anticipation as she was handed the rifle.

“There will be no doubt about that, Viktoria,” She said after eagerly tearing open the cartridge with the zeal of a child opening a candy wrapper.

The Morrígan held the rifle with a clear awkward unfamiliarity and a barely contained disdain. “Such methods are different from how we normally operate.” she held up one of the cartridges and observed Freyja opening hers. “Perhaps you would like another?” she said, extending her hand with the round in it.

The redhead stiffened as she looked at the offered cartridge. Her needle-point pupils widened to prey-like beads of black. Shaking subtly, she hesitantly took the cartridge while avoiding eye contact the best she could. “I likely won’t need it.” Freyja softly said while she placed it in her cartridge pouch, “But many thanks to you.”

“All right,” Viktoria said, slinging her rifle across her back. “I suggest we split up, then. We can go in teams.”

At the mention of splitting up, a dark cloud swirled around the Morrígan and two smaller clouds extended from before coalescing into Nemain and Badb, with the central one forming into Macha. The eldest sister rolled her head slowly. “That’s a relief, I’ve had a crick in my neck since we were over An Ghaill.”

Badb rolled her eyes. “Yea? Then why have you been complaining about it since Germany?” Macha turned towards the youngest one and raised her crooked stick a little, but Nemain interjected.

“Can we have one day where you two don’t do this?” she asked. Macha shot her a glare but turned away from them. “Macha can go with Viktoria and handle the politicking, I’ll go with Aisling and Badb go with Freyja.”

Macha let out a bemused hmph, “So be it,” and tapped her cane on the ground. From the woods, a large wolfhound came bounding. “Tá sé in am fiaigh, Failinis.” she said, and the animal moved to her side with eager anticipation.

[Pragia]

Teris remained silent as the other resistance members discussed the notion of assassinating the lord of the North American Union. It was a hell of a prospect, and trying to maneuver a more sympathetic brother could indeed be a powerful move, if it weren’t for the complications of his position, he would be in favor of it. Simply being witness to this was already a problem, as he would new need to avoid being summoned by the telepath-in-chief in order to maintain operational security. “I agree with Mr. Cosner, keeping the ruling family in place does open us to making an enemy of one of the only slightly sympathetic Great Lords. I don’t believe we should bite the hand that has been stayed, but if we’re going to take a shot, there shouldn’t be half-measures.”

He considered the potentialities around a power vacuum at the top of the North American power structure. There weren’t many dominion lords with ambitions of global powerbrokering. A good number who would do well at it, but he would need to consider what such an event could result in. The idea even flit across his mind of seizing the great lordship, but such a role was one that would put him under a microscope he did not need. That was, if it was so resolved, anyways.

“That said, I cannot risk going after Harpun after this time, if you need help in transporting or hiding it, I can try, but I can’t afford painting something like that on my back. Learning more about what ECLIPSE has at its disposal would be of greater importance so that they can be outmaneuvered is ideal.” He would say, that eyepiece aperture tightening and then loosening briefly. “I intend to pursue global operations to build a network we can use to undermine the dynasties, but if you believe taking a strike at the Queen is really the play, I admire the ambition.” He says flatly. He really didn’t mean to leave the American hanging, but his plan was far too bold with far too many questions.

[Naval Monte]

Reich Military Blacksite, Königreich Brasilien, Südamerikanischesreich, 11 June 2020

It had been over a day since the patrol brought the unfortunate Great Lord Amir to their base to help the Central Asian Khan recover. They had no way of explaining how he got there, and after conversations between the Luftwaffe and the Reich’s Missile Command, could not explain how he made it deep into the Amazon without anyone knowing. The only conclusion was through some magical means, as according to Reich intelligence, no one even knew the Great Lord was missing.

Antoinette Krüger, recently returned from the adventure in Cuba, entered the room where Amir was staying and sat down across from him.

“How are you holding up, Your Excellency?”

Amir was silent as he stared into his own reflection from the coffee in the mug he was holding

The Khan was wearing a robe with loose and warm clothing after taking a warm bath. The great khan was silent during the return trip and the care he received during his stay.

Even now he seems to have ignored the question asked or was choosing to be silent.

Antoinette remained quiet as it seemed that Amir didn’t hear her.

“Do you know where you currently are?”

The great khan looked at Kruger. He shook his head no before returning back to gazing at the coffee.

“Do you know how you got to the Reich?”

The khan refused to look up but his grip on the mug tightened as his hands began to shake.
The screams began to echo through his head. The world around him began to blur as he was back in that indescribable realm where shapes and logic melts away and dreams and madness reign supreme.

He can smell and taste blood lingering in the air as he can hear the dying gasps of his own guards as they all fell to…

Amir was suddenly thrust back into reality as he felt an intense heat and sharp pain on his hands.

Looking down he found that his hands had changed into those of a beast. Shards of the mugs have stabbed deep into his hands and his fur was soaked with steaming coffee.

“Sorry.” he weakly mumbled at the sight before him as he watched drops of his blood and coffee fall to the floor.

Before another word was said, the door opened and a team of doctors came in to make sure that the Great Lord was all right. For her part, Antoinette remained oddly stoic and calm.

“What happened?” She asked simply.

Amir ignored the doctors as they intended his hands.

“I lead them to their deaths. They trusted me and I killed them.” he uttered as he saw pieces of the mug being carefully removed from his hands.

“How so?”

The khan’s eyes become glassy as he can feel the rays of the suns on his back as he returns back to the mountainous desert.

“We found a city in Iran, yet it was not. It is only a city because that is the only word I can find to describe it. But nothing about it was anything that fits with what man made, or something that belonged to this world.”

Amir’s vision returned as doctors began to swab his hands with alcohol.

“We don’t know how long the “city” has been there. Maybe it was always there and we just found it now? But I felt something terrible when I first gazed upon it. The eagles were screeching and were restless when we landed. They knew that something was wrong with the “city”. My men were also uncomfortable and they have faced the worst this world can offer.”

The great khan fell silent as the doctors began to bandage his hands.

“Yet I still went in. Some force compelled me to enter, and they all followed me inside.”

“When was this? What day?”

Amir closed his eyes tightly.

“I can’t remember. Time and space was meaningless in the city. I was stuck in the city for centuries with no food, no water, and no sleep. I never aged, never starved, never thirst, even though I was exhausted I couldn’t stop.” He explained

“We had streets stretch on to eternity only to walk on the walls of skyscrapers. We walked on stairs that laughed at gravity and geometry, lost someone to a house that pulled everything to it like a black hole, and saw a man be consumed by his own rage.”

Amir looked at Kruger. “I saw a daemon manifest by pure emotions and devour the one who made it with my own eyes. We all saw our own memories, dreams, and nightmares become real in the city. I had to kill my brother again just to save my own life.”

“What caused this…city…to manifest?”

Amir shook his head. “I don’t know. We just heard that nomadic sheep herders found the city after some of their people disappeared around the area the city was in.”

Amir looked down at his hands.

“I don’t know if anything now is real anymore. I thought I had escaped the city so many times only to return back. I don’t know if I’m really in this room talking to a real person.” He grabbed his head as he began to rock back and forth on his chair.

“I can’t go back there. I can’t go back there. I can’t go back there…”

Amir repeated in a hushed tone like it was a mantra.

He would keep chanting the same words when suddenly a new set of words would leave his mouth.

“No Meis Oblivie, Mi restia asi pur eternia. Qon todu decriesu a freia. Todu vie a mortus.”

By now it was clear that the Great Lord’s mind was, at least presently, shattered.

“Your Excellency, we can transport you to the Central Asian Embassy. I am sure your people will be relieved to hear that you are all right.”

“Do not forget me..” he uttered, his expression vacant. “I sleep here for eternity.” he said.

“Until all is destroyed and frozen. All that lives will die.”

He would return to muttering the gibberish that vaguely sounds like Latin before speaking the words he repeated before. It would seem that the gibberish for the Great Khan had some meaning to him.

“Your Excellency,” Antoinette repeated, hoping to snape him out of his trance.

The Great Khan stopped as he held his head.

“I’m sorry. But the symbols. They did something. Words appear to me. They are all gibberish to me but if I repeat them they start to make sense to me.”

“Is there anyone else who might have knowledge? We have esoterics in our intelligence community.”

Amir shook his head. “No. I’m the only one alive to have seen the symbols. I don’t know who else can help.”

Certainly it was above Antoinette’s paygrade, but perhaps...

“Is it a code?”

Amir thought it over. “Maybe. Perhaps it is a message? But I don’t know.” the man sighed as he slouched on the table, exhaustion finally hitting him.

“That accursed city must be destroyed. I will do that once I return. I will have it erased to save others from falling for its spell and suffering like me and my men.”

“Generalleutnant Franziska von Manstein might be able to help,” Antoinette mused. “Her metahuman ability can understand any document, code, cypher, or symbol simply by reading it.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “Would you be willing to curse her with what I was forced to learn?”

“I only bring it up as an option.”

Amir thought of it.

“I may consider it. I will need time to think of it.” He sighed.

“I just want to rest now. I hope that I have truly returned back to reality.”

Antoinette rose and nodded.

“Then we can escort you back to Germania.”

[Europa Undivided]

15th Polish Expeditionary Company
Cobar

“15th, be advised. Some elements of the Garrison haven’t laid down their arms. We are moving in to engage them in order to control the situation with as little bloodshed as possible!” He lied into the radio. They needed time. He had to give Carolina as much time as possible.

In response, other squads opened sporadic fire in distant houses across the outer perimeter, simulating a loose firefight across the town.

Just as Santiago and his compatriots had planned, the Polish forces accepted the message as what was truly happening. They had, at the moment, no notion or consideration on the possibility of the further exchanges of gunfire being a farce to cast a veil on a retreat, especially in a place where visuals from the air or longer ranged communications weren't possible. The Poles had lost their air support in this area when the scout constructs attacked the Cobarite garrison and African looters, and the only way to request for further air units was to light up a flare for the waiting Grad MRLS and Orzel Tanks in the further distance The thing with air support, though, was that they didn’t need any more. The Cobarite garrison was more or less at their mercy, and thankfully, the order to dispense the red smoke for the MRLS to open fire never came.

“Ever heard of the White Army?” The Spiritseer asked Tragarsky, who was still surveying the battlefield from the safety of his command APC. “Discordant elements coming together, bound by hatred towards a single enemy. And yet, they could never fight as one. Just like the Resistance.”

“We all had history classes, Seer,” Gregor answered, taking up the radio to answer the latest communique from the Private Menzendorf.

“Private Menzendorf. This is the 15th. You are acknowledged. We will attempt to minimize the bloodshed in these previous, last few moments… and I hope you quickly pacify your friends, for their own sakes.”

Ah yes. Menzendorf. Jose Menzendorf was a cornerstone of the Resistance, a leader within their council. Perhaps this was his son? But again, what would he know? He may be the son of one of the leaders, but that doesn’t mean he’s a confidant of sensitive knowledge. And with that in mind, the most that would happen is that he’ll have a slightly bigger suite than the others while in the internment camp.

Two of the Ghostknights stumbled backwards as rigged explosives caught them off guard. Though one of them was rendered immobile by the blast, tanks and other constructs, supported by infantry, continued on. They moved towards what seemed to be the final line of defense, and began the final push. The explosions and shots were much fewer this time, but they were still there. The diminished amount of bullets in the air was quite discernable, which the Captain took as a good omen.

“After today, we will not need to bury our brothers,” Tragarsky mused as he listened to the weakening cacophony of bullets. “Only drink with them.”

[Revlona]

Matthias Kuhn, The Namenzida’s Right Hand
The Royal Palace, Mumbai, India
Around 2:00 pm GMT+5:30, June 3rd, 2020

---

The appearance of the Royal Guardsmen did not surprise him, nor was he surprised when she all but demanded that he stay. This was part of the plan after all. If she was still willing to negotiate, she would act. If she wasn’t, she would have let him go. At least that was the thought process. And, it seemed his plan worked to a degree, as Marsah lowered her demand. Albeit, it was by a measly 1 percent, but it was something.

“I did not mean to insult you.” Matthias said and turned around to face the Fire Queen again, “I was merely taking the initiative as it seemed our negotiation was over, and thus I did not want to waste your time. While I appreciate your offer, as I have stated, I can not go higher than 30 percent.”

He paused for a moment, “Unless, of course, we receive a guarantee that South Asia will import a majority of their imported oil from our domain. In that case, we may be able to entertain your current offer, under a guarantee that South Asia will have our oil make up at least 60 percent of their import needs."

Marsah

He wanted a guarantee that India would tie its oil economy purely to the Middle East, he had come in with requests and now made demands, she almost wanted to laugh if it did not enrage her so. Though it was a smart request on his end, now she had only the options of accepting, capitulating to 30%, or sticking to her offer and risking the negotiations breaking down.

India already bought a majority of its oil from the Middle East but she would not tie her economy to them if other and better options showed themselves. No, she would stay firm and see what he did.

“34 percent is my final offer, I have no intention of permanently tying the Indian oil economy to one entity, not if I can help it. You wish to have both my peoples support and for us to rely upon you, it will not happen. 34 percent.” She said matter of factly.

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Maria Vahlen-Kaine, Grand Chair of the ACNA
LaGuardia Airport, Gotham, Greater New York
1:45pm GMT-5, June 6th, 2020

---

The special administrative district of Gotham; a unique entity within the Arcane Council’s territory, earned through its economic power, size and history. Gotham’s classification was necessary, not only to keep the elite of the city satisfied, but also to limit the power of Greater New York. Of course, while this ensured a greater level of political stability across the ACNA, it also allowed corruption to grow within the city relatively unchallenged. While Maria disliked the situation, she had no intentions to act on it.

After all, Maria was here on official and personal business. Not business with Gotham, but with the individual who was scheduled to arrive shortly. The Thaumarch of Albion, and the soon to be Great Lord of Oceania, Alexandria Ashwood. She was a person who Maria greatly respected, not only as another lord, but as a scholar of the arcane. This was among one of the reasons that Maria was determined to be among the first people Alexandria would meet upon her visit to the Americas. That and the historical relations between the Arcane Council and Albion, a relationship of respect and cooperation.

Due to recent events within Albion and this relationship between the two states, Maria decided to greet the Lady Ashwood in person, along with taking steps to ensure her safety upon her visit. As such, when Albion entered ACNA airspace, Maria ordered two things. The first being that all aircraft adjust their routes through ACNA airspace to give Albion a clear path towards Gotham. The second being that LaGuardia airport would be secured by the Council Wardens and the CSHDU, effectively shutting down the airport for a period of time.

And so, Maria stepped out of the vehicle that brought her to LaGuardia as a small aerostat could be seen approaching.

---

Matthias Kuhn, The Namenzida’s Right Hand
The Royal Palace, Mumbai, India
Around 2:00 pm GMT+5:30, June 3rd, 2020

---

Smart decision. Matthias thought to himself. He expected her to disregard his demand for India’s economy to be permanently tied to Middle Eastern oil. It was merely a tool to attempt to either get her to agree to the 30 percent, or offer to lower her demand again. However, it appeared as if she was holding her metaphorical ground. Now, he was being placed in a position that was far from ideal, forcing him to ask himself one important question.

How much do we need Marsah’s support? The Reich, Central Asia and Albion had all already agreed to support the Namenzida’s regime. The NAU and perhaps the NUSSR were the most likely to be against the Namenzida’s claim in the mind of Matthias. That said, if he did not handle this gently, they could possibly gain a potent enemy.

“It seems we are at an impasse then.” Matthias sighed, “I can not do 34 percent. However, I am willing to meet you halfway, at 32 percent.”

[Bingellia]

Near Burg Eisenfaust, outside of Welthauptstadt Germania, Königreich Argentinien, Südamerikanischesreich, 11 June 2020

“Aye, Ma’am.” Aisling answered as she moved closer to Nemain, still unused to the weight of a ceremonial handaxe on her hip. “Can’t say I’ve ever hunted animals before. Normal ones at least.”

Nemain placed the butt of the rifle on the ground. “Modern times have made it so people have forgotten how to hunt.” she said. “It used to be that if you did not hunt, you did not eat.”

Freyja nodded as she settled herself. Looking over the youngest of the three women who manifested from one. There was a raised eyebrow and moment of curiosity as she pondered the possibility of what magic could really do.

But it was not to last as the huntress sighed. “I don’t believe I have ever met you… three… personally before. The elder, the middle, and the younger. Like the wyrd sisters.”

Freyja choked out a forced chuckle.

“Three souls in one body, yet still distinct. Pagan trinitarianism…”

Macha paused as she was walking away with Viktoria. “Yes, three sisters who control the fate of humanity to their liking. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence” she said looking back slightly with the faintest hint of a grin before continuing on. Badb seemed unamused by the display, but didn’t comment on it other than to look away.

[Demencia]

The Morrígna(Macha) and Viktoria
Near Burg Eisenfaust, outside of Welthauptstadt Germania, Königreich Argentinien, Südamerikanischesreich,
11 June 2020

And so the hunt began. Viktoria prodded through the forested region of her estate with the enigmatic Macha as her companion, for the real politicking. Of course, Viktoria was aware of their unique precognitive abilities.

“I am quite pleased that you agreed to this summit, Your Excellency.”

Macha moved through the woods slowly on her cane, though the undergrowth seemed to move aside as she neared as if to make room for her to walk. “It is rare for us to be invited to functions outside of the formalities that people hope we won’t attend.” Macha replied. Failinis walked by her side, head held high. “I would say I was surprised but, well, being well informed of what’s to come is my specialty.”

“The Reich does not share the opinions of the other Houses when it comes to Western Europe,” Viktoria admitted as she stopped, spying a red-deer some distance away. The Kaiserin knelt, pointed her rifle, and fired, hitting it broadside near its heart.

With a smirk Viktoria rose and turned back towards her companion.

“Which is why we’ll ignore the sanctions.”

The old woman’s head tilted back a little. “Nemain suggested we do the same thing, though I recommended more care must be taken with such an endeavour like that.” She kept walking on, as Failinis silently commanded another creature to come forward towards the duo.

One of Viktoria’s adjutants retrieved the deer’s carcass as Viktoria herself loaded another round into her rifle.

“Then it seems we have an understanding on that front. My initial suggestion at the congress was merely to placate certain lords, lords who appear, have brought the wrath of their betters upon them.”

Macha shrugged. “Those who crave the strongest for war eventually find it turned against them. We have seen it more times than you could possibly count.”

“Yes,” Viktoria said. “However, I still believe in the maxim: si vis pacem para bellum.”

“Always latin with you.” Macha replied. “Perhaps in this situation it’s more fitting for ‘Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoinne’, ‘under the shelter of each other, people survive’”

“Those are indeed prudential words,” Viktoria conceded, noting her adjutant taking the deer back to the lodge. “Especially in these days.”

“Indeed,” the older woman stayed close to Viktoria. “I also believe in old proverbs such as ‘Mol an oige agus tiocfaidh sí’, ‘Encourage young people and they will get there.” she said as the echoing call of a crow sounded out.

Viktoria noted the call of the raven, turning her head towards the ambiguous and vague direction before looking back at her elderly mate.

“In Melbourne we spoke a little about creating a world of mutual protection. It seems clear to me that the threat posed by the NAU and the NUSSR cannot be avoided.”

“Yes, that little affair of yours to the north. Or at least that sword you’re willing to fall upon. Quite the mess, that.” Macha leaned on her cane a little. “It seems that certain parties are dead set on starting a conflict, no matter how much prevention is attempted. Such a mess. Throw in the instability of the rest of the world,” she shook her head. “Such a pity.”

“I’ve never been one to look for a fight, but I’ll certainly end one.”

“A wise approach, only a fool seeks a fight. It is better to be confident in your own abilities than to need to test them by provoking others constantly.”

“But knowing my abilities means I know that a war with the NAU cannot be won if other Houses get involved.” Viktoria replied. “I do not seek a war, but I wish to prevent others from waging one.”

“Perhaps what you are lacking is a deterrent.” Macha suggested. “Frankly, pardon the bluntness, no one has respect for you and that is unlikely to ever change because you will not change your image. That leaves fear as the next best motivator to keep people away from your borders. You said it yourself last time, no one will make an incursion on Western Europe for fear of our wrath, but clearly no one has any such reservations about you until you give them one.”

“Fear,” Viktoria mumbled to herself, as another raven cawed in the distance.

“It is what Badb does best.” the old crone mused. “No one can shake the resolve of a hardened warrior better than her.”

As Viktoria mused on the subject, an eagle landed on a tree not far from her position. The Kaiserin blinked a few times but readied her rifle, firing and just missing the bird as it flew off again. The young woman frowned and looked back at Macha.

“And how would you suggest I go about such a path?”

Seeing Viktoria miss the eagle, Macha glanced slightly towards Failinis. “Faigh é.” she commanded, and the large wolfhound bolted into the woods and out of sight. She turned back to the shorter girl. “Well, you could take lessons from history. You won’t win any battle on military might alone, so you need an equalizer; something that will level the playing field between your smaller realm and the larger ones. In past generations it was nuclear warheads, but those are difficult to produce discreetly without alerting the very people you’re trying to intimidate.” Macha paused as there was a rustle in the nearby woods. “You must play to your strengths. You are quite fond of the cybernetics, yes?” she asked, as Failinis reappeared from the tangles, carrying the eagle in its jaws. “Madra maith.”

Viktoria noted the felled eagle before looking at the crone.

“We have some experimental wanderpanzer,” she said with a nod. “But I know all too well that putting too much faith in wunderwaffe is a dangerous path.”

“Perhaps in your current ability to make them.” Macha added. “But with a bit of guidance, the limits you face at present would be less of an issue. All it would require is a bit of faith.”

“You can offer such guidance?”

“I can offer many things, if you only request them. Remember what I said about encouraging the youth.” Macha grinned again slightly, though whether it was kind or sinister depended on your perspective.

A raven cawed again. Viktoria slung her rifle over her shoulders.

“I’m willing to listen.”

Macha stopped walking and leaned on her cane. “Well, you have made frequent use of your cybernetic enhancements on human subjects, but have you thought about going… bigger?”

“Bigger how?”

“Enhancing a person is one thing, but a soldier has their limits. Imagine the power of a Fomorian with the same level of enhancement, if not more.”

“A wanderpanzer but with a living component?” Viktoria inquired.

“It would be a significant increase in power. Or something even bigger, a creature like the Ellén Trechend.”

Viktoria frowned slightly.

“Could such a deterrent even be supplemented with…cadmium weapons?”

Macha grinned “I’m sure it could be worked in.”

“And how quickly can this be achieved?”

“With the right assistance, I believe it can be accomplished quicker than you’d expect. We can provide additional manpower to assist on the projects to have work going around the clock to get them done quicker. It would be an undeniable testament of international unity.”

“Yes,” Viktoria said with a nod. “A deterrent for both of our enemies, and a projection of Dynastic unity.”

“Precisely, a prime example of what can be achieved when we work together instead of squabbling over borders or petty disagreements.”

“Indeed. Then we shall begin right away.”

Macha placed one hand on Viktoria’s shoulder. “Excellent, my child. Now come, there are more animals in the forest and you wouldn’t want to lose to Freyja, would you?”

[Nagakawa]

Hong Kong (South Han)
The Grand Imperial Hall

3 June 2020
6:00PM

In one of the waiting rooms in the Grand Imperial Hall, Lord Feng sat in a sofa in the corner and quietly lit a cigarette as his eyes drifted to a grandiose oil on canvas portrait of Gao Guan-yin on the other end of the room, the self-styled Empress of the Han in a rather fitting qipao adorned with her various decorations and accolades.

Wisps of bluish gray smoke rose from the lit end of Lord Feng's cigarette as he brought it to his chapped lips, inhaling deeply and thoughtfully and allowing the sickly sweet smoke to penetrate the deepest recesses of his lungs, before blowing out a plume like a dragon, just as the doors to the waiting room were thrown open amid a clatter of jackbooted footsteps.

"Lord Feng. The army has been mobilised."

Lord Feng rose from his seat and straightened out his suit. From the far end of the waiting room came General Wang Wei-sheng, accompanied by a pair of aides carrying briefcases.

"In three hours' time, our troops will enter the Lei Family's territory", said General Wang. "In terms of military strength, Lei is superior as long as they are backed by the Yuan. However, we have the element of surprise. As long as we can ensure that Japan does not join the war, and that Siam remains neutral, we can win quickly."

"Good." Lord Feng took another drag.

"Oh, and, one more thing, Lord Feng." General Wang waved his hand, sending his aides out of the room, before stepping closer to the old Lord Feng and whispering into his ear. "Between you and me, I would suggest that we have a backup plan."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, should this invasion fail, and the Yuan's retaliation is successful, we must be prepared for the contingency."

"I don't get where you're going." Lord Feng shook the ash off his cigarette onto the marble floor.

"Empress Gao is willing to go to the grave to make her point against the Yuan", said General Wang, his eyes darting about the room nervously. "But... I don't know if we should be making such sacrifices ourselves. You have your wife and your two daughters to worry about. I have my son, my grandchild, my mother..."

"My wife and my daughters will die for Empress Gao." Lord Feng turned to General Wang and blew out a plume of smoke into the general's face, tossing the butt of his spent cigarette onto the floor without a care. The old Lord of Guangdong's face was inscrutable, like a wall of granite. "If your family is not willing to make such a sacrifice for the sake of our Empress and our nation, then you don't deserve the ranks you wear on your shoulder."

"Mhmm." General Wang nodded. "On that same note... I would recommend you keep an eye on Mr Fang Zi-an."

"What about Fang?"

"I’ve been told by Colonel Li Xun that he had a two hour conversation with Yoshirō Nagatomi just earlier today, before we met Empress Gao”, said General Wang.

Lord Feng's eyes narrowed.

“Just something for you to think about.” And with that, the general quietly left the room.

[Britanania]

Argentinien, Südamerikanischesreich, 2005

Metahuman Squad A's first mission was to be a simple S&D operation, one the soldiers had been training for since the inception of the Squad. The briefing was terse, as they expected. A contingent of rebel forces, operating in the Andes along the Chilean border, needed to be excised. The group was harassing supply lines and the SS were stretched thin at the moment keeping control over newly acquired territories in the north. Walküregruppe was needed to defeat the guerillas.

And so it was that the team was sent in via helicopter, landing several klicks from the suspected rebel base, on their own. They had three days to find the rebels and report. After wandering around the mountains in the cold and snow and trying to avoid detection, Valkyrie Squad eventually found the rebel base and attacked, as ordered.

At some point in the battle, Scharführerin Viktoria von Eisenfaust found herself separated from the rest of her squad. Someone detonated an M84 stun grenade

"¡Maldita sea, mierda! ¡Te voy a romper en pedazos! ¡Muérete!" the rebel screamed as he ran at Viktoria with a machete. As the seven-year-old recovered, she wondered why this man was trying to kill her. It was all so absurd to her that anyone would want to kill her, and yet, so it was. As he neared, Viktoria activated her abilities, freezing the man in place. As she caught her breath and took the few precious seconds to examine his face, she wondered what all of this was for, but remembered what was in store for her if they failed this mission. The beatings. The removal of meals. The time in solitude.

Viktoria pulled the machete from his hand, and as time resumed for him, she slashed at his throat and winced at his blood, still hot, poured over her face.

[Arlye Austros]

Pvts. Carolina Swett Amunategui and Santiago Menzendorf Carvallo
Status: A.W.O.L.
Cobar, New South Wales.
June 4th.

If it wasn’t for the general awareness of the solid she was tapping into by laying her hand on the walls, the link to reality that Carolina had would shatter right away. He exertion and effort, driven by an outside force beyond her own control at this point, was the only thing keeping her conscious. Perhaps even sane.
It hurt. It really did hurt.

Her arm sent painful cramps up to the shoulder every few seconds, as if her brain was suddenly away that half the hand was gone, and standing up straight was a constant struggle she had to try to ignore as she walked down the dampening hole, holding her balance by some miracle as the slightly acid residue formed a foamy mud under her shoes.
Or perhaps it was Luta’s hold on her mutilated arm that hurt.

“I am sorry. I can’t hold the pain away.” Her voice replied in the dark. Only then sis Carolina realize she could still open her eyes, and managed to see the faint textures of the melting rock, connected by a projection of the earth that looked like an inverted nose to her extended hand. A limb of the earth that reached out to her. In the darkness beyond the only thing she could detect was the collapse of rock, dirt and ore into a sludgy waterfall that washed away and deeper in.

She was barely in control of herself anymore. Her only focus was to keep her power doing what it could, reaching beyond her own expectations. Her mind reached each of the billions upon billions of Silicon Oxide molecules, and split as many as she could into it’s various constituents, reforming the atoms themselves. In fractions of nanoseconds a part of them reformed into water and carbon dioxide, which she then forced into carbonic acid with enough concentration to speed up her work a bit. She could vaguely remember choosing that mixture because it wouldn’t be lethal to the others.

At this point it felt like it was somebody else who planned it. He head was spinning, and Luta’s hand squeezed again, sending painful shivers across her body. It made the spinning stop, but it also made her sleepy and weaker, as her power flowed with renewed intensity, and kept destroying the sediments before her. The bridge that connected her fingertips to the end of the tunnel cracked and melted before her eyes, merging with the darkness and reverberating a splashing sound around them.
“Let’s go. We have to get closer again.” Lutana said, and drove her further down into the darkness.
“We are moving, lads!” A voice followed, and a faint light bounced off the esophagus of this beast the intruded into.
“They are right behind us?” She muttered. Lutana’s voice replied, and Carolina realized her eyes were shut again. She was kept at the very edge of consciousness.
“Yes. They are following us from a distance, only to be safe. How long until the water course?”

Carolina tried to remember where she had felt the liquid running deep. Somewhere ahead there was a potential cave which she only needed to slightly dig through to open. After that, it was downhill, kind of.
“Not much, I swear. But I don’t know if I will make it.”
She squished her mutilated arm again. “Hang on.”

Her palm rested on the wall again. It was wet and the stench was intense. But it couldn’t wait for her nose’s appetite. She had to keep digging through. The wall protruded liquid and then collapsed, caving further into the earth.

Santiago rushed into the abandoned gas station with two other teenagers who made his group. They didn’t introduce each other. There was no time for that.

It was a mess inside the store. It had been ransacked over it’s remains several times. He wasn’t there for food, though. One of the teenagers broke the glass and watched across the street.
“The column is advancing, but very slowly. Just across the corner!” The boy relayed the message from a nearby squad that was keeping an eye on the enemy from an alley.
“Tell them to pull back, then!” He replied while checking his magazine. He placed one incendiary round at the third level of the chamber. The boy made hand gestures and confirmed the alley was being vacated.
“On three…” He commanded. All three took positions by windows and the door, and opened fire two seconds later on the building across the corner. After a few shots the incendiary round impacted the bricks and sprayed fire on them.
“It’s not a lot…” He commented. The fire would burn out in a minute. But it would look convincing enough to the column. He reached his radio. “First team falling back.” He said and then looked at the others, who followed him outside and checked the surroundings. They could hear the Polish infantry across the corner.
“Noted, Santiago. We have gone into the tunnel and are about to collapse it. Are you s-” Aaron was cut off.
“I am. We are staying, our mind is set. Get them to safety. Tell Caro…” He only then realized he didn’t tell her goodbye. How inconsiderate. Hadn’t his father told him to always announce himself in and out of the presence of a woman?
“Shit! They are moving again!”

Santiago turned as he walked and then gave the gesture to run into an apartment building. They quickly hid in the entrance hall and checked for the Polish Infantry as it made it to the corner and methodically checked the surroundings. Santiago glimpsed at some shooters scanning the gas station. He silently told the others to move into a backroom, and then climbed out through a window into a blind alley. “Tell her I love her and that... That we will find each other.”
“Good Luck…” the voice replied before going silent one last time. They struck open a chain and opened a gate back to another street. As the three sprinted back to the Heritage site, they heard a deep blast, and a plume of dust rising from it.

There was no coming back now.

“All squads fall back!” He commanded on the radio. “it’s the last call, guys. Fall back or give up by dropping your guns if you can’t get here.” He gave a final announcement before entering the heritage site. Beatrice, the beast-like meta girl, was checking on a wounded boy as he did, and turned to the door with a look of defeat on her face.

“So we are now giving up.” She said. Santiago nodded.
“They are four blocks away. No way of keeping them away for long. I suggest we move to the park. For appearances sake.”
She nodded. “I will stay here and send those who come to cross the street and to the park. I can leap there once it’s done.”
Santiago and the others began carrying the wounded across the highway towards the ruined remains of the Mining Park, and placed Janna and the others on the foot of a steel-made monument to industry, under a faint shade. He then grabbed his radio one last time.

“15th Company. This is Private Santiago Menzendorf. I have contacted the remnants of our garrison in the town and they have all agreed to surrender. We are converging at the Miners Heritage Park, with some stray groups possibly ending at the Heritage Site across the Barrier Highway. Do not shoot those heading in this direction. I repeat. Do not shoot those heading in our direction.” He informed, then looked at the rest who had transported the wounded.
“They will come through Conduit Street.” He pointed north. “When they come be sure leave your guns on the ground and walk back. Do not make sudden moves. You know the drill.”

A boy, roughly his own age, nodded and replied with some frustration. “No. We don’t.”
Santiago chuckled, and noticed everybody smiled. Bitterly, but enjoying a small joke. Another group made it to the park from the Site.


José Alejandro Menzendorf.

He silently listened to Gatekeeper’s words, which he found troubling, for some reason.

“Perhaps the Reich could be further undermined.” He suggested, remembering his own wife could be there. “Having the details of whatever ODESSA was doing with the Harpune would certainly be beneficial.” His gaze went around the table. “Acquiring any tactical advantage on the field will also prove a benefit for the cells still willing to openly fight. If they have some sort of weapon’s program, we need to get our hands on the minutia of it.”
He made a pause and then sighed as he leaned on the back his chair. José recounted the details of the forces he could muster. “Líszt…” He said. “Is it possible for you to get a finger into the Reich’s system? I feel we need to have somebody south of Panama. Perhaps set up infiltration methods in the near future.”

[Revlona]

Marsah

So it was just a ploy to get her to go a little lower, not a bad idea but in her eyes she was the one holding the reins. He had come to her, not the other way around. If the deal could not be made then she lost out on nothing. Sure she would lose out on a decreased fuel cost for her nation, but that was only if the coup was succesful.

“I cannot do that, the difference between 30 and 34 is minimal but I will not spend any more time arguing over the difference in the two numbers. I believe we both have better things to be doing, no? I am willing to accept 34 percent, that is mine and Southern Asias final offer.” She said cooly.

[Naval Monte]

Alexandria Ashwood- Thaumarch of Albion
LaGuardia Airport, Gotham, Greater New York
1:45pm GMT-5, June 6th, 2020

The Aerostat in question was smaller than what most would expect and it didn't resemble a massive plane. The silver Sycamore seed shape craft was no bigger than a helicopter as the larger Aerostat it fly off remained in the air. From the distance the fuzzy image of the massive sphere that was the shell of the floating city was approaching the city of Gotham.

As the flying sycamore seed came down the flight tower crew and Maria would see the craft not touching down on the ground but hovering slightly above the run away. As the craft drew closer to her the leader of the Arcane Council would notice that the craft was had many smooth curves, almost organic in nature. The silver plates were reflected, the top shining off reflected light and showing Maria's reflection as the craft hover in place. The craft would let out a hiss as the doors slide open, a ramp coming down.

Maria would hear someone stepping on the steps on the ramp and soon she would see Alex coming down, alone.

"Maria. It's nice to see you." The thaumarch said as she approached her. "Thank you for diverting other aircrafts away from the city. I'm not in the mood to be caught in another international incident." she said.

"But let's not dwell on that." she said as she waved her hand. "How about we move somewhere far more pleasant? I'm sure all of your businesses are prepared for an influx of tourists coming down from the city, yes?"

[Britanania]

Reichauswärtiges Amt, Welthauptstadt Germania, Königreich Argentinien, Südamerikanischesreich, 11 June 2020

The Reich Minister of Foreign Affairs Monika Krammer and Generalleutnant Franziska von Manstein sat across from the Central Asian Great Lord. It had been about a day since they brought him from the Amazon and had time to recover at the Khanate’s embassy in Germania and confirm to his subordinates that he was still alive, but a few questions remained.

“Is there anything I can do to help, Your Excellency?” Franziska offered.

Amir was silent for a moment as he pondered on the question. “Are you versed in occult matters like your forebears?” he asked

“I have some knowledge, but my abilities allow me to understand any cypher, code, or language,” she explained.

“There are symbols in my head. They cause me great pain every time I think of them but I feel that a message was encoded in them. But I can’t understand them.”

“If you can write them out or say them, I can translate.”

“I can try.” He told her though from his tone he was unsure of the plan.

“However I do have another matter I wish to discuss now that I’m here,” Amir stated as he wanted to change the subject and keep his mind away from the symbols.

“Would you be interested in doing business with my realm?” He asked her

Monika, sitting next to Franziska, smiled and leaned forward.

“The Reich is always eager to do business, Your Excellency.”

Amir tried to collect his thoughts. “I will need your assistance with my realm’s defenses,” he said.

“I fear that the investigation on my realm will be heavily slanted towards both Russian and Indian favors for them to carve my realm into pieces. I don’t trust any of those foreigners sticking into what should be internal matters. I need allies who will dissuade those two from using this investigation as a pretext to invade my realm.”

Monika nodded.

“ I understand. I believe the Reich has a solution to your problem if you are willing to listen.”

Amir nodded. “What do you have?”

“We have made an important deal with the future Great Lord of the Middle East,” Monika explained. “I believe that he also spoke with your agents at some point, but the important thing is that the Middle East and the Reich are going to increase our cooperation in the near future. Having Central Asia join us with bolster against our shared enemies in the region. Central Asia would agree to a mutual defence treaty with the Reich and the Middle East and allow both of our forces to engage in war games and exercises, and we will also agree to share our technology. Meanwhile, we would have you join our petroleum and gas production cartel, to ensure market stability.”

Amir pondered over the decision. “What else do you want from me? There must be more to your arrangement than just access to my resources and more allies against your rivals?”

Monika shook her head.

“I’m being sincere. The Reich believes in a strict balance of power, and both the NUSSR and South Asia could threaten that balance with revanchist behaviour. We believe that safeguarding against such threats is the best way to maintain peace.”

Amir looked into her eyes and face as he search for any clues that she was deceiving him. He seems to have found no signs of deception as his expression seems to soften slightly.

“I know many will condemn my choice but I can’t allow my people to be ruled by Communists again. I will agree to your proposalal.”

Monika nodded.

“I can finalise the finer details with my counterparts in Astana,” she told him, as she looked over to Franziska.

“And we would be willing to send Reich divisions to Central Asia to further bolster your defences, Your Excellency.”

Amir nodded. “Good. I will try to draw some of the symbols so your people can try to translate them. As for the city itself I still have plans on destroying it. I rather not have anymore people enter it. I’m still unsure how I manage to escape from the city.”

“Very well. We shall begin when you’re ready.”

“Just give me a room to make those terrible symbols in peace. I don’t want others to see them by accident.”

[Nagakawa]

64 Victoria Avenue
May 28, 2020

Scarcely twenty minutes had passed from the moment that Rabbi Reshef Eisner had taken the car of his would-be assassin and his reaching home. The sky overhead was still overcast - threatening, even, yet not quite, as if it was holding back and waiting first for something else to happen.

When he got out of the car, Eisner felt his head suddenly become light, and his vision blurry. He stuck his hands out and stumbled forward a few steps, shaking his head to try and gather his wits about him. The blood was still dripping from the gashes in his forehead, the shards of glass embedded in his skin helping, it seemed, to stymie the bleeding at least somewhat. How he had managed to drive all the way back home in such a state, the old rabbi couldn’t say. Perhaps it was by the protection of God. Or perhaps he was a better driver than he gave himself credit for.

“Hayim…! Hayim, are you home?”

Eisner stumbled up to the front door, fumbling around his keys. With his vision blurry and his head spinning, he could not easily identify which key it was that fit into the front door lock. Only on the third try did he succeed, throwing the door open and staggering up the threshold onto the dark purple shag carpet.

“Dad!?” From upstairs came Hayim’s voice, and as Rabbi Eisner collapsed into his sofa in a flurry of heavy, laboured breaths, his son dashed down from upstairs. “Dad! What happened to you? Why are - ”

“Hayim, where’s your mother? Where’s Noah?”

“Mum’s sleeping upstairs. She’s feeling unwell.” Hayim was a young man in his early thirties, sporting a tacky mullet and a tough-guy horseshoe moustache, neither of which were quite able to hide his soft, discerning eyes. “Dad, something’s not right-”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all this while”, said Eisner impatiently. “Hayim, I wasn’t able to tell you just now, but-”

“Noah just called me”, said Hayim urgently. “His entire station’s been activated. There was an explosion at the Magistracy for Arbitration. There was a terror attack.”

“A- hold on, what??” The rabbi’s face contorted in shock. The furrows and wrinkles of age were visible even under his mask of blood. “You’re kidding.”

“You mean you weren’t there??” Hayim’s voice was strained. “Wait, then- what happened to you? Why did you suddenly hang up?”

“It’s the Kimolians”, said the Rabbi. “They sent someone after me. I barely survived.”

“The Kimolians? Who are they?” Hayim gripped the backrest of the sofa tightly, the veins on his knuckles writhing tensely. “Dad, what’s happening?”

Eisner sighed deeply and slumped back in his seat. His dark brown eyes drifted towards the wall; a large photograph hung there, framed in a simple but homely rosewood frame. In the photo, the four Eisners were standing atop a snowy hill, a faint silhouette of a ski lift punctuating the white background. It was a holiday photo, dated 12 November 2015 - Hayim, then twenty seven, was still clean shaven and had a more sensible haircut. Noah, twenty one at the time, had just completed basic firefighter training, and was on leave. In the photo, he stood twiggy and awkward, but his eyes matched his smile in their brightness. In front of the two boys, Reshef and Naomi were standing right next to each other, the then fifty five year old man with his arm wrapped affectionately round his wife’s waist, and her own arm, in turn, playfully tugging on his free hand. His beard and hair then were all still black - funny how fast that could change. In just the span of five years, the grey had crept in, and with it a creeping sense of dread that had first started coiling up his leg like a sapling, but was now a thorny, terrible tendril, coiling spitefully round his torso.

His wife and sons, in contrast, had changed little, Hayim’s questionable hairstyle choices aside. How blissful it was, the old rabbi mused, to live unburdened by the knowledge of the state of things.

“Dad!”

The rabbi snapped back awake. His vision had turned cloudy, his skin pale and palms clammy. A dry, stinging fog gnawed at his eyelids, clamouring for them to slide shut for a bit.

“Dad, this isn’t a joke.” Hayim shook his father gently by the shoulders. “What have you been doing? Who are the Kimolians?? Why - Why are they targeting you??”

“Be… Because I know they exist”, Eisner replied, his words slurring pitifully as he struggled to articulate himself clearly against the fog. “They know I know. I… Those of us who know of their plans, we’re all being targeted. Bartrich was one of us. Terfel, too. Clower, Vollard, Wolfe, Valentijn, Timurov… we’ve all been trying to, to expose them. To bring their crimes, their agenda, to the light. And now I fear…”

“Why didn’t you tell us, Dad?”

“Because… because…”

“Shit… Dad, okay… Dad, relax, okay?” Hayim sped to the other side of the living room, where the landline sat. “I’m gonna call Dr Riseborough. I’ll get him to come over and patch you up.”

The rabbi raised his finger and motioned a circular gesture, as if asking Hayim for something. Outside, the sound of a motorcycle roaring down the street of the otherwise quiet neighbourhood of Victoria Street tore brazenly through the strained silence as Hayim dialled the number of the Eisners’ family doctor.

“Thank you for calling Dr Francis Riseborough Clinic and Pharmacy. Unfortunately, Dr Riseborough is currently-”

“Call Dr Catrin instead”, the Rabbi suggested feebly, leaning back deep into the backrest and closing his eyes. “That’s 546… 1173… 7179.”

Hayim nodded and quickly dialled the other number.

Each breath that Reshef Eisner took as he lay splayed out on the sofa was controlled and manual, as if he had forgotten how to do so unconsciously. His skin had turned an unpleasant ashen colour.

For a second time, a motorcycle zoomed past. Neither Hayim nor his father noticed, but it was the same one as before.
…

The rushing streams and smears of lights and shadows whizzed past the windows as Alex held the steathe of her sword tightly.

“We’ve reached the location ma’am. But..”

Before the pilot can finish Alex would speak over him.

“Open the door pilot.”

The side door to the right would open as the gunship hovered in the air.

Alex looked at her newly made companions. “All the guns in the ship can be used by you two. I have a feeling there are more hoodlums out here than what we are seeing now.”

Alex would turn her attention back to the road and step off, ignoring the screams behind her.

A sphere of energy would surround her as gravity around her began to slow down. When she landed the witch landed on her feet with the grace of a cat. Almost as though she didn’t fall from bone shattering heights.



…

Magistracy for Arbitration

There was no fire when the 31st Albion Fire Service Squad pulled up outside of the Magistracy for Arbitration. They had brought with them an entire convoy, expecting to be greeted with a blazing inferno, but found instead a building so silent as to be eerie. The only sounds there were were those of the sirens.

“Sub Eisner, this is Commander Alvarez here. There seems to be a discrepancy between our initial reports and the intel the police are providing us. Give me a status report. Over.”

The fire engine pulled to a halt, and the driver swiftly unlocked the doors. From the other side, out of the vehicle commander’s seat, Sub-Officer Noah Eisner, twenty six years of age, leapt out the door and onto the asphalt, and quietly surveyed the building from the outside. There wasn’t the faintest lick of heat coming from the building, nor were there any people rushing out of the building or standing around nearby. It was all quiet - eerily so, in fact.

“Sir, everything is quiet out here.” Sub-Officer Noah cautiously walked closer to the building. “There’s nobody around. No sign of any fire from the outside. Over.”

“How strange. Stay on your toes, Eisner. We don’t know what’s going on there. Over.”

The Arbitration Magistracy building had been taped off conspicuously by the police long before the fire brigade had arrived. A young policewoman in a trench coat stood near the entrance, holding her phone to her ear, but upon seeing the fire squad’s arrival, quickly ran up to Noah.

“I’m Inspector Alyona Hrytsenko.” The policewoman introduced herself.

“Sub-officer Noah Eisner.” Noah nodded in acknowledgement.

“You guys actually didn’t need to come.” Alyona chuckled sardonically as if to lighten the air. “There’s no fire.”

“There were reports of an explosion and smoke”, said Noah straightforwardly.

“Oh, there was one, all right.” The policewoman thrust her hands into the pockets of her trench coat and pursed her lips, trying very hard, it seemed, to stay cool and professional - she had a certain frustration in her eye that Noah recognised, a boiling urge to suddenly start swearing and cursing at the sky. “It lasted for three seconds. My boys are in there right now. The whole building’s empty. You can go in there and take a look.”

Noah glanced over at the doors to the building, which hung open by their strained hinges.

“It smells like sh- really bad in there.” Alyona scowled. “Like burning bodies.”

Noah sniffed the air.

“Now that you mention it, it does - ”

“Ma’am, this is Sergeant Redford.” Inspector Alyona’s walkie talkie crackled to life. “We’ve found a skeleton on the third floor.”

Alyona glanced at Noah and smirked.

“Let’s go, then.”

Noah nodded, and quietly followed Alyona into the choking miasma of the building.

…

“We’ve cleared the entire building, Ma’am”, said the sergeant, saluting Alyona sharply as she and Noah entered the office of Magister Huw Terfel. “These are the only human remains we’ve found.”

Alyona and Noah stood at a distance and quietly surveyed the room. The carpet had been singed, as had the furniture, but everything else seemed more or less intact. On one wall was a framed dress uniform and a Welsh flag, slightly scorched around the edges; on the other was a flag of Albion, in much worse a state than the Welsh flag, and underneath it a vaguely human-looking sooty black silhouette on the wall.

In the middle of the room, lying face down in the charred carpet, was a skeleton. It was completely dry and slightly scorched like everything else in the room, and for some reason, had no hands. At a glance, both Alyona and Noah could tell that it had belonged to a woman, judging by the shape of its pelvis - as for who it belonged to, however, that was a different matter entirely.

Noah quietly activated his headset, his eyes fixed on the skeleton in front of him.

“Commander Alvarez. We’ve found one set of human remains.” The young fire commander could not take his eyes off of the skeleton. “A female skeleton with no hands.”

“No other bodies?”

“None”, Noah replied.

Alyona tossed a pair of latex gloves to Noah, herself pulling on a pair and squatting beside the skeleton. The police sergeant stood quietly at the doorway as his commander began to inspect the skeleton gingerly, taking care not to disturb it too much for fear of accidentally damaging it.

“Any idea as to who it belongs to?”

“None so far. The police are here too. They’re- ”

Before Noah could finish his sentence, a loud boom tore through the building. The ensuing shockwave rattled the air and the foundations of the building, setting off vehicle alarms in its wake and blasting cracks through the drywall.

“The hell is that?” Alyona wobbled to the side, tripping over the skull of the charred skeleton as she tried to stabilise herself. She quickly rose to her feet and drew her pistol.

“Hello? HELLO?” Noah winced and yanked his headset off. The line between him and his commander had been cut off, replaced by a deafening static.

“It’s the French!” The distressed cries of a teenage boy floated up from the streets below. “The French have set off a bomb!”

“Why the French?” Noah dashed to the window, peering out at the streets outside. Opposite the now empty Magistracy for Arbitration, people were running away in a frenzy, scattering in the streets.

The sound of gunfire erupted from the direction from which they were running away.

“Hello?” Alyona barked into her walkie talkie, only to find that it, too, had gone dead. “Fu- damn it. Sergeant Redford, let’s go.”

…

“Who are you?”

As Hayim tended to his father’s wounds with his home first aid kit, the realisation hit the old rabbi that he had forgotten to lock the door behind him. That, it seemed, had allowed the man to enter unsolicited.

“I am Jean-Claude de Montfort”, said the man in a Californian accent. “Today, you will die, and France will be liberated.”

“You’re no Frenchman.” Even in his state of shock, Reshef Eisner was lucid enough to pick that up. “You’re an American.”

“Shut the hell up, old man”, said “Jean-Claude”. He marched up to the rabbi, only to be shoved back by Hayim, who squared up to him and stared him down straight in the face.

“Who told you you could come in?” Spittle flew from Hayim’s mouth like a muzzle flash.

“I’ll go where I please, Jewish dog”, said “Jean-Claude”. He tore his shirt open, revealing a fresh tattoo of a sigil on his chest, the flesh underneath still raw from the inking. “You’re going to die.”

“What in the blazes is going on here??” From the stairs came Naomi Eisner, clad in a nightgown. Her baggy eyes betrayed her tiredness, and from the sound of it, she was sick and very much unwilling to show face to anyone. “Who the hell are you?”

“VIVE LE FRANCE!!” The “Frenchman” screamed, as Hayim leapt over the sofa and threw a punch straight at his face, smashing “Jean-Claude”’s mandible and sending him reeling backwards into the window. Blood began to drip from the lips of the “Frenchman”, as he fell to the ground and clenched his jaw. And then the sigil tattooed to his chest began to glow, and the house was suddenly engulfed in a blinding light.

…

When Noah and Alyona got back down to the ground floor, they were greeted to the sight of corpses, both of policemen and of firemen, strewn messily across the asphalt and mangled beyond recognition with 7.62mm rounds. The clouds in the sky overhead had cleared, and the whole street was searing in the direct afternoon sun. Noah’s throat squeezed shut like a clam, and in the corner of his eye, he could see Alyona suddenly lowering her weapon as she blankly surveyed the carpet of dead bodies lying on the floor.

“Ma’am!”

Sergeant Redford quickly drew his pistol and fired a single round, but then collapsed to the ground as another 7.62mm round whistled through the air and tore straight through his chest. Another spray of bullets flew, missing Noah and Alyona only barely as they sprawled quickly on the ground and scrambled for cover behind the fire truck.

Alyona cocked her pistol and leopard-crawled till just behind the wheel, where she could peek out at the assailant while still remaining in cover. The attacker was a young and slightly chubby man, dressed in a white office shirt and black suit trousers with Oxford shoes, sweat marks forming around his armpits and under his chest. He carried an AK-47, and on the left side of his shirt, he wore a ribbon bearing the colours of the French tricolour.

“VIVE LE FRANCE!” he yelled, in an accent that didn’t sound French. Alyona remained silent, keeping her pistol close to her and keeping her eye on the gunman. The heat rose from the asphalt in waves like an oven, suffocating the living daylights out of both the fireman and the policewoman.

Noah lay prone on the ground, just a short distance behind Alyona. From his position, he could not see the gunman, only Alyona’s positioning herself and trying to take aim at him without exposing herself. The hot air, steeped in the heavy smell of blood and the sickly sweet odour of gunpowder, felt like it was steaming him from the inside.

“ALLONS ENFANT DE LA PATRIE!” The gunman began to sing the anthem of France. It was off key, but more strangely, he was pronouncing every word wrong. “LE JOUR DE GLOIRE EST ARRIVÉ!”

He began firing indiscriminately, seemingly having forgotten that Noah and Alyona were still alive. The policewoman took aim from behind the fire truck, still prone on the ground, and fired a single shot. Suddenly, the sound of gunfire stopped. There was a metallic clattering, followed by a wet splattering sound as the gunman fell face first onto the asphalt and spilled his brains from the bullet hole between his eyes. And then there was silence.

The group would be the shadow of a VTOL craft coming from behind them. The gunship hovered in place as the slide door opened. A purple blur and blue blur would fall off the craft and land on the ground with surprising grace.

The two would see a pale woman wearing a purple dress and suit, long black hair trailing down from her and landing down on the ground. On her hand was a sword that she had drawn before jumping down. Surrounding her was a dome of blue energy that would disappear now that she landed on the ground.

The woman got up and began to walk around, a look of shock was on her face as she witnessed the carnage that occurred.

She would stop at the body of the gunmen. She noticed the bullet hole and turned to look at the direction they came from and saw the two survivors.

“What happened here?” she demanded.

“A gunman.” Alyona stood up and answered listlessly, before suddenly noticing who the woman was and standing to attention.

Noah, sensing the sudden change in the mood, snapped out of his daydreaming stupor and leapt to his feet, himself also stiffening up.

“Your Excellency”, Alyona greeted the woman. “Inspector Alyona Hrytsenko.”

Alex waved her hand. “At ease. I’m not in the mood for such formalities.” she told the Inspector. “I want to know who this man is and how he managed to get in here of all places?”

Alyona glanced to the side and stepped gingerly towards the quivering body of the gunman, her pistol still aimed at him, ready to fire. She planted her foot on his torso, and in one swift motion, flipped him over into a supine position to reveal his disfigured face, covered in his own brains, and the French flag ribbon on his shirt.

“A Frenchman”, she said. “He was singing the French anthem.”

“But he didn’t sound French”, Noah interjected, staring at the bodies on the road rather than looking at either Alyona or the pale woman.

“I beg your pardon?” Alyona asked.

“His accent didn’t sound like a native speaker.” The fireman’s eyes darted about anxiously, from one body to another. “He didn’t even sound fluent in French. His pronunciation was all wrong.”

“But he sang the song and is wearing their flag?” Alex looked down at the body. “He could be sympathetic to the regime in France? But I don’t know anyone sane who would support such a monstrous regime.” She rubbed her chin.

“Something about this feels off.” She looked at Alyona and Noah. “How was the gunman behaving before he started firing?”

“He was just, fuc- flipping firing down the street-”

Alyona scooted over to the side and looked down the street the gunman had come from. There were no people; the crowd that had dispersed barely five minutes ago as the explosion and gunshots rang out was now nowhere to be seen. The only evidence there was was the burning shell of a car - presumably the source of the initial explosion before the onset of the gunfire.

“I didn’t see”, said Noah. “He just… showed up. And killed all my men…” His sentence trailed off midway. His gaze drifted down the street from where the gunman had come, and his shoulder suddenly sank, as if the cruel heat rising from the road were melting him alive.

The feeling that something was wrong with the situation was growing.

“Why are you two here in the first place? Something happened because there wouldn’t be this many firemen and police officers in this quarter.”

Alex was having a terrible hunch that whatever happened in the Arbitration building and the gunmen were both connected.

“My squad received an urgent call. They told us about an explosion and smoke coming from the Magistracy of Arbitration, but there was nothing when we got here.” Noah suddenly stopped and turned to face Alex, but though he faced her, his eyes were still elsewhere. “Oh, I’m… Sub-Officer Noah Eisner. Albion Fire Service Northeast Station.”

“We got here first, but, uh… there was jack sh-… there was nothing.” Alyona sheathed her pistol and motioned towards the building. “Noah here can attest to that. We went inside. Everything was just… scorched. Like it was all grilled or something. And there was nobody.”

“Just one skeleton on the top floor, in Magister Huw Terfel’s office”, Noah added. “But it wasn’t him. It was a woman’s skeleton.”

Alex was starting to have a terrible sinking feeling when she heard what occurred. “Are you sure you found no sign of Terfel? There has to be something from him?” as she thought about the Magister she began to wander over her head what could have caused this.

“With all due respect, you can go see for yourself if you want”, said Alyona. “There was nothing. Just… some dusty silhouettes. Like those pictures of people vaporised after a nuclear explosion. Except there was no nuclear explosion. Everything else was intact.”

Alexandria's eyes became stiff when she heard about the silhouettes in the room. Her arms became lax, her grip on her sword becoming so loose that the weapon fell off her.

A nuclear shadow but without the presence of a nuclear explosion. Such an anomaly. Such an impossibility. By all accounts such a thing would easily be disregarded as nonsense as it violates all known laws of physics.

But Alex knows the one instance where such violation of nuclear physics can occur.

Sergei...

Noah sighed deeply. Alyona’s walkie talkie suddenly crackled to life.

“All… an attack… street.”

“Wait… what?” Alyona scowled.

“I repeat… alert…” the fuzzy voice on the other end of the line was audible even amid the noise. “There has been… … Victoria Street-”

“Victoria Street?” Noah’s face suddenly sank. “That-That’s my…”

The voice broke Alex out of the trance she was in. She would quickly grab her sword and order the pilot of the VTOL craft on the small speaker on her collar to come down.

“That is where Eisner lives. Your father.” Alex said to Noah. “I thought I recognized you. I met your father many times whenever I met Terfel. He showed me photos of you and the rest of your family.”

Noah said nothing, even as Alyona cast him a surprised glance from the side of the eye. Alex gave him a small smile as the craft lowered itself down.

“Let’s go!” she instructed as she boarded the craft.

…

The rushing streams and smears of lights and shadows whizzed past the windows as Alex held the steathe of her sword tightly.

“We’ve reached the location ma’am. But..”

Before the pilot can finish Alex would speak over him.

“Open the door pilot.”

The side door to the right would open as the gunship hovered in the air.

Alex looked at her newly made companions. “All the guns in the ship can be used by you two. I have a feeling there are more hoodlums out here than what we are seeing now.”

Alex would turn her attention back to the road and step off, ignoring the screams behind her.

A sphere of energy would surround her as gravity around her began to slow down. When she landed the witch landed on her feet with the grace of a cat. Almost as though she didn’t fall from bone shattering heights.

“Dad!? Mum!?” When the door of the gunship slid open, a gruesome sinking feeling clutched at Noah’s heart from below. The wailing of the ambulances and police cars outside suddenly engulfed him, a mournful cacophony of sirens to accompany the intense heat.

Reshef Eisner and Hayim Eisner were wheeled out of the front door by the paramedics, who rushed them straight to the ambulances. Their bodies were riddled in burns. Nearby, a pair of policemen were desperately trying to calm down Naomi Eisner, screaming hysterically and demanding something in an inaudible shrieking voice.

Alex was silent as she saw the scene before her. She didn’t know what to say to the grieving son as he saw his parents in such a horrible state.

“Oh, my God.” Alyona folded her arms and puffed her chest out in the face of the carnage, but her eyes had become glazed.

“Mum…”

Noah dashed over to the curb where his mother sat and squatted down beside her, resting one arm around her shoulder.

“NOAH THE HOUSE IS - YOUR FATHER IS-” Naomi’s breaths were rapid and shallow. She stood up wildly and pointed frantically at the house, gasping desperately for air. “NOAH, YOUR FATHER… HAYIM…”

Noah got up and looked up at the ambulances, but they had already shut the doors and driven off. Another ambulance turned round the corner and stopped just a short distance away, as the paramedics got out and dashed towards the scene.

Alex looked at the house. She drew out her sword. “Stay with your mother.” Alex told him. “I will send in security to protect both of them once they reach the hospital.” she told Noah.

Noah said nothing.

“Has a perpetrator been identified?” Alyona asked one of the other cops on the scene.

“There’s no trace of anybody”, came the other cop’s reply, as he glanced at the hysterical Naomi. “We, uh, talked to her just now. She did say something about an intruder.”

Alex would kneel down in front of Naomi. “Ma’am, I understand you are distressed and are worried about yourself and your husband. But I promise you that we will protect you two and your family. But I need you to tell me everything that has happened and who attacked your home.”

“AHH… AHH…”

“Mum, calm down.” Noah’s face was flushed with an overwhelming wave of emotion. He swallowed hard and steadied his voice. “What happened?”

“THERE… There was a man”, she choked out, barely able to contain herself. “He claimed to be French… He broke into the… the… the house, and then… he suddenly… he suddenly… suddenly…”

“Exploded?” Alyona asked.

“YES”, Naomi blurted. “In a… a ball of light…”

“There were some ashes”, said the squad leader of the on-site cops, standing next to Alyona. “Bits and pieces of a skeleton, it seemed. They looked like they’d been cremated.”

“Exactly like the one in Magister Terfel’s office, then.” Alyona clapped, a single assertive strike. “There seems to be some connection.”

“Was there anything you can remember from the man before he blew himself up? Did he say anything?” Alex asked

“He spoke… he spoke in French.” Naomi was beginning to collect herself, though her face was still red and puffy. “Bad French. He… claimed to be French, but he couldn’t… couldn’t speak it… Like his accents were all off and his pronunciation was… was all wrong.”

Alex frowned. “Did he say anything that gave a hint on why he attacked you?” she asked. She glanced at Alyona.

“I don’t know.” At that final answer, Naomi broke down into tears. She covered her face with her hands between sobs. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Noah got up and turned to Alex and Alyona, pursing his lips tightly.

“We do know it was a Frenchman, at least”, said Alyona. “Or at least, according to her, he claimed to be a Frenchman. And he’s probably dead too, if the ashes are his. But we’ll have to run a search on the cameras in the neighbourhood to see if anyone left the house. There’s a chance it might not be a suicide attack.”

Alex got up and nodded in agreement.

“If there are two attacks then chances are there may be more people involved. So keep your guard up.” she warned.

Noah nodded. The sound of his mother’s sobbing filled the silence.

Alex turns to Alyona. “Order the police to get the recordings all the cameras in this neighbourhood have.” Alex turns her attention to Noah. “We should take your mother out of here. It isn’t safe for her and chances are it isn’t safe for you either.”

“Yea.”

Noah went back to his mother and sat down beside her, leaning reassuringly against her. Naomi looked up at her son.

“Mum, let’s go.”

Alex would see another team of paramedics arriving. They would perform a quick check up on Naomi and once they determined she was stable enough to be taken they would lead her to another ambulance.

Alex would turn around and return to the gunship. Once she and the others were on board the aircraft would take off and follow the ambulances to their chosen hospital.

[Europa Undivided]

The 15th Polish Expeditionary Company
Cobar

A boy, roughly his own age, nodded and replied with some frustration. “No. We don’t.”
Santiago chuckled, and noticed everybody smiled. Bitterly, but enjoying a small joke. Another group made it to the park from the Site.

Sure enough, the Polish armored column rolled into the park. The gas station explosion from earlier had knocked down a Ghostknight and sent a few infantrymen sprawling to the ground, but other than that, there seemed to be little tension left with the Polish troops. By this time, they were used to the way that they concluded their engagements with Resistance holdouts. These were nothing like the grand mountain fortress of Mt. Buller, or the initial forces that they fought upon the likes of Melbourne and Canberra. These were the tattered, ragged remnants of an international coalition of exiles, with absolutely no hope for victory.

And so, just like that, the battle for Cobar had ended. The Poles held their fire, watching the Resistance garrison put their guns down in an act that would solidify their surrender to their forces.

The dust had cleared. Captain Tragarsky flew in to the square, his white, angelic wings soon giving him purchase of the ground. The metahuman captain wore what looked like to be a black uniform, complete with golden buttons and the synthetic tiger pelt around his shoulders. His helmet was quite avian in turn, somewhat giving the impression that he may be an avatar of the Egyptian deity Horus. Or maybe he is Horus?

"You have chosen well," Gregor stated as he walked forward. He spotted the young man that looked like he was the leader, judging from his central position amongst the battered fighters assembled in the park. Santiago Menzendorf, he recalled. Gregor wasn't one to remember family trees, if he knew them to begin with, but his father, Jose Menzendorf, is a center piece of the Resistance. Perhaps there will be something of interest here. But Gregor seriously doubted it.

"You are the one named Santiago, I assume?" Gregor asked, while a team of medics moved out of the rear of the armored column. "I must say that I admire your efforts, the conviction that you surely possess in the name of the principles you hold. But here we are, hopefully forging what will become lasting peace..."

At the meantime, the Spiritseer that had accompanied them shuffled about, beckoning the souls of the dead to come to him. He could be heard right then and there, muttering phrases that could be interpreted as "be at peace" in varying forms. Sometimes, though, he didn't say anything, and the lantern mounted on his staff glimmered with a faint emerald light. No one could really be sure what he was doing when it came to that latter part, as the Spiritseers are a cloistered order that seldom divulged anything, even to their own comrades. He kept wandering about as the wounded Resistance members were tended to, eventually reaching the wreckages of those two constructs that had first swept into Cobar.

"Shame, the matrix had been destroyed," the Seer commented as he looked upon the torn apart fuselage of the first construct. He could not tell whether the black box had been simply pulled out or destroyed, as the damage was so extensive that the latter seemed somewhat more plausible. "Well, it's only fair that I release you, in turn."

With the interference fading, the Wraith Tanks and the Grad MRLS were ordered to move back to base, as their purpose was done. Soon enough, they will move out from the wartorn Cobar, bearing with them the comparitively few prisoners of war that they had acquired whilst being completely ignorant of the other group that had escaped through tunneling underground. With these in tow, the Poles returned to their main forward headquarters located in one of the less devastated towns. Santiago and his compatriots would be placed in what looked like to be a mansion, or a manor house. Either way, there were full amenities there, except for communications,. As far as prisoners of war go, the Cobarite garrison members that stayed behind would have it pretty well.

What would come next is anyone's guess; there are whispers amongst the guards that certain individuals of interest could become guests of the Shepherd of Souls himself. Right now, though, the glories of the new world, and the advancements that that had been achieved that would have been impossible in the old order were shown to them. Every day, every hour.