A Day in the Life (Closed, Tiandi, SoL)

[Toishima]

Reboot of the previous ADITL, which was clogged with many now non-canon things. Perhaps continuing to have these little free RPs will stimulate bigger ones. For the uninitiated, this is a freeform Slice of Life RP. Little spontaneous plotlines that connect various characters are allowed, those are fun.

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Myitnge River, Republic of Myaar'tway

Ne Win squatted at the front of his fishing boat. The shirtless man stared into the greenish water, one of the longer rivers in the region and the central highway of all Myaartway, carrying a bundled up net that he would soon deploy. Fishing was a delicate art, requiring patience and skill. It brought food for the dinner plate and money from the market. The man's boat was new; his father's old boat had been wrecked after a particularly powerful storm flooded the riverbanks.

Ripples on the water indicated the abundant river fish were foolishly swimming close to the surface. With a strong sweep of his arm, Ne Win cast out his net, dragging it through the water for some distance before pulling it back on board. Sweat glistened on his brown skin, darkened even further by the unforgiving sun. He wore a pair of aviator shades left behind by a kind Akitsukunese soldier when they were building the town's water treatment system. People joked that he looked like some kind of dictator from the neighbouring countries. He always brushed them off with a laugh. The simple fisherman never had any great political aspirations. Maybe in another life.

Satisfied with his catch, just over a dozen small fish, a few prawns and some plastic packaging, Ne Win meticulously pulled the seafood from his net and placed them into a bucket, alongside six other buckets. Inspecting the buckets, the fisherman know he'd make some money tonight yet. Today's catch was good, though the fish were a bit on the small side. Maybe tomorrow he'd try the more crowded fishing area upriver, where everyone fought for surprisingly scarce fishing space in the wide river. He stood up and wiped his hands on the baggy pants he wore, turning back to the little "boathouse", constructed out of planks and corrugated metal.

He shook his head as he saw that his rifle had fallen again. The hooks Sein Lwin hammered into the wall were not strong enough again. He never was for 'displaying' the gun on the wall, just dumping it in the corner had been effective for years. Almost every family had a gun out here. The threat from pirates, bandits or rebels was really great, and surplus weapons were always available from the fighting. Ne Win had heard stories that some northern villages were even using bullets as an alternative to the overly inflated currency. His family was lucky to have two guns, this beat up Akitsukunese Type-39 and an even older bolt-action Arisaka rifle. The Type-39 had belonged to his father, who was now too sick to come out fishing any more.

With a flick of the engine lever, he set the boat jetting back towards the shore. A grey military boat with a heavy machine gun jetted past, the state flag fluttering behind. Just years ago he had entertained the idea of joining the Army, but shelved those ideas after realising how engaged they actually were. Maybe in another life he would join them, and maybe become some major leader or something. Suu was always teasing him about it for some reason...

[Cresadine]

Qo'yyen, Free City and Isle of Qo'yyen

Yoon ye-Jin stared in wonder. The sixteen-year old highschool student from Hapcheon and her class had flown to the tiny island of Qo'yyen yesterday evening, and she was thoroughly enjoying herself. The city itself was nothing like anything in Jeongmi. Most of the were buildings old and made from brick, without any skyscrapers. There was certainly massive buildings, but none where particularly tall. The streets where cobblestone and there was no cars. People walked, biked and rushed around in boats that nimbly danced through the canals. It was certainly a high-tech city, and everywhere people where laughing and chatting loudly. It was bustling with culture and the smell of good food wafted throughout. Though it still had an aura of sophistication and dignity to it.

Everywhere there were monuments and shrines. Many few were dedicated to Gods, of which the Qo'yyenese had many. Along the streets there where shrines tucked away under trees to spirits and deified ancestors. There were quite a few beautiful sculptures depicting scenes from literature and cultural figures.

Her class viewed a splendid monolithic construction, the tour guide called them it "First Hero." Apparently there were nine more of varying sizes. The massive statues reached up for what seemed like miles, but was probably more like 200 feet into the sky. The statue held a javelin ready to be thrown and had a warrior's look to it, as if were about to attack its enemies. According to the tour guide, the Qo'yyenese religion holds a belief that the Ten Heroes will rise to defend Qo'yyen along with the Basilisk and the Lion of Day and Night when the time arises - whatever that means.

The city itself was strange in Jin's mind, but the people were stranger looking. Their pale faces had an odd calm and dignity to them. Their hair, curly and flowing, was often a deep midnight black or a dark auburn and sparkled marvelously in the sun. Men kept their locks cut relatively short, but the women let their hair flow in elegant braids.

Jin had read that the people of Qo'yyen enjoyed dressing brightly, and they did not disappoint. It seemed most would theme themselves on one solid colour, and build their outfits from that using close colours and shades. It was hot out, very hot - so many were dressed in beautiful sarongs and loose fitting, thin and often revealing robes. The Qo'yyenese loved to adorn themselves with gold from their ankles to their necks they decorated themselves in gilded finery. Even their eyes were blue with gold flecks! One of her classmates joked that the Qo'yyenese must sh** gold too.

They took a small canalboat and got out at the massive marble steps of an impressive palace. Beautifully adorned arches allowed air to flow into the massive building. All sorts of domes and towers rose and fell in an impressive display of medievael architecture. The copper gate was wide and welcoming, but sinister twin statues of a serpent and a lion guarded the posts. Their eyes were lifelike and seemed to always stare down at the people walking through.

"A tour guide welcomes the students to the Sitaĭaleġe," said the tour guide, whatever that meant. The Qo'yyenese had an odd way of speaking, they didn't seem to understand the usage of the First Person pronoun.

They toured the rooms of the palace, which were filled with visitors draped in the beautiful silks of the city. Hundreds, possibly thousands of paintings lined the walls. Sculptures, rarities and antiques from every corner of the globe sat behind glass cases. They learned this palace, the Sitaĭaleġe or "the most pure place of governance" had been the residence of the Islelord, a now defunct position. They were brought into a massive vaulted throne room. It's cathedral dome stretched up far above the earth. Elaborate ornamentation of all sorts of animals and angels danced along elaborate and massive columns. Murals, depicting the history of Qo'yyen lingered like shadows against the walls.

In the center of the room was a massive throne. According to the tour guide it was a single solid piece of obsidian stolen from the mainland. The throne had a massive back, and there once more the snake was carved into it. The arms where shaped almost like the head of a fern. The snake was called the qo' or the basilisk according to the tour guide. The scales of the snake where carved jewels, like topaz, sapphire, ruby, emerald, opal, diamond, lapiz lazuli, amber and even some precious metals.

One of her classmates, a moronic and cocky jock, tried to approach the throne but was swiftly apprehended by solemn, black-robed guards, "the Basilisk Throne is not for a boy to sit on or touch. A Throneguard may continue to allow a boy gaze upon the seat of our nation, as long as a boy behaves," he said. The accent of the Qo'yyenese, was rich, calm and deep and could be very intimidating.

On the way back to the hotel they passed a black obsidian building. From inside they heard a continuous, melodic and spooky chant. "Samahh" was constantly being repeated. Jin inquired about this to the tour guide, who only replied with, "this is the Black Temple, a girl of Jeongmi cannot know such things as the Priests and keepers of Qo'yyen's gods." As the walked away she could still hear the endless chant of "samahh."

[Arumdaum]

It's hot, isn't it?

Yes, Mother. It's been a bit hot lately.

Tae-yong pushed the wheelchair, taking his mother out into the park. The sun shone brightly but it was easy to avoid the heat within the shade of the many trees that lined the park's broad avenues. A warm gust of wind blew back the hair of both mother and son, strands of graying hair floating in the summer breeze.

Have you been doing well? I've missed you. How is Chae-rin? Your wife?

I've been doing well. I'm more worried about you, Mother. Have you been remembering to take all your medications? I heard that sometimes...

The elderly woman began to shake her head, uninterested.

Yes, yes, don't worry about me.

Well, my wife's been doing fine too, but Chae-rin's been studying way too hard! She never has time for anything else because she's always so busy studying for her exams. Studying, studying, studying - that is the only thing on her mind. All her teachers say that she will definitely be accepted into Hapcheon.

Clearly an exaggeration, but Tae-yong's mother seemed to enjoy hearing the news. A smile broke across her lightly winkled face, her eyes beaming with a silent pride.

Such a good child, I miss her so much. If only you'd been as diligent when you were young, maybe your daughter wouldn't have to study so hard.

They stopped near a bench. Tae-yong helped her out of her wheelchair so she could sit with him. As they sat, they could see people pass - children playing, young couples holding hands, groups of elderly men and women exercising together; going on about their lives, as if they were also simple, ordinary people with simple, everyday dreams and desires.

[Toishima]

"There it is. Six PM Kodama. Gohyaku-kei type train, Miyako to Heian via Ashigara and Yamahama..."

In the distance, the sun glinted off the metal serpent slicing its way through the fields on the outskirts of Akitsukuni's Imperial Capital at tremendous speed. The evening scene was very representative of the post-Kaikaku kaihō, rapidly-developing Akitsukunese countryside. Wide open fields and rolling hills were crossed by train lines and superhighways. The suburbs of Miyako City crept onto the yet-untouched fields where hundreds of samurai once clashed for supremacy. Even the Himiya river now had a concrete bank.

As the sun began creeping below the horizon to the right, another source of light appeared from the direction of the city. Despite its importance in Akitsukunese culture and governance, the Imperial City of Miyako was not heavily developed. It lacked to skyscrapers of the world's largest city, the administrative capital Heian (which actually cheated, combining four cities into one just to be the largest in the world), but still had its fair share of lights from a hundred homes, ubiquitous Akitsukunese apartment blocks, and dozens of tourist-commercialised traditional sites and temples. On the southern end of the city, inside a bend of the Himiya River, stood the Imperial Palace complex, half traditional castles and half modernised steel and glass.

Mariko peered through hand binoculars as she strained to see the Shinkansen disappear into the distance. The short, cheerful train enthusiast with her hair tied into two pigtails with lacquered wooden cubes stood on the top of a hill at the edge of the city with her two best friends. Their school's complex was not far. The black and red uniform of the Imperial Miyako Young Womens' Academy was easily recognisable, with its kimono-inspired design that kept to traditions while remaining utilitarian, unintentionally representative of modern Akitsukunese culture as a whole. In addition to enrolment in the prestigious school, Mariko's odd mononymous name, simply Mariko, further marked her as a member of the world's oldest continuous monarchy.

So inflated was the Imperial House of Akitsukuni, with no less than twenty-five official branches, that the more minor branches were largely on the same level as the common citizen (If one considered the upper one percent of Akitsukunese society "common citizens"). Asukasa House was one of those branches no layman knew about unless they really put in the effort to research the Imperial House, and the daughter of Asukasa-no-Miya Shuichi flew under the radar as long as she kept humble. Naturally good-natured, she did stay hidden from much of the public eye.

Lying down on the grassy hill to Mariko's left and staring up at the sky was another girl, this one wearing the pleated black school skirt with her white PE t-shirt. Following school regulations, her messy shoulder-length hair was held back by a black hairband. Her eyes were small, such that it was not immediately clear if she was even awake at this time. Her nose was an odd shape, passed down from her father, who was currently one of the de-facto leaders of the national government. Etsuko Toyama, daughter of Grand Marshal Yujiro Toyama, member of the Imperial Military triumvirate currently in charge of government after the coup earlier in the year.

Etsuko casually tilted her head towards Mariko. A kendo shinai was placed perpendicular to the girl's body on the right in an oddly specific manner, one of many quirky compulsions of the otherwise messy and carefree spirit. On her left was a worksheet with scribbles and doodles on it, itself atop one of the digital camouflage backpacks so popular amongst the youth of today. No learning had taken place today, it seemed. Contrary to the typical portrayal in media, having a military parent (even one in such a high position) evidently did not spawn lockstepping obsessive-compulsive control freaks every time.

"If only you could remember such facts in class," she joked. Easily flustered, the minor princess blushed and looked away from the train line, sweeping her gaze towards the suburbs of the city. House lights were coming on as people either arrived home or began reacting to the coming night.

"I caaaaan..." Mariko bleated. Mirthful laughter drifted from the shady tree behind them.

Kagami Sukimoto - the name must be familiar - was seated under the tree. The Imperial Miyako Young Womens' Academy was the natural choice of education of the daughters of the top tiers of Akitsukunese society, which also tended to congregate in the sprawling mansions and compounds of Miyako's upper ring, on the same side of the Himiya river as the Palace. Modern Akitsukuni did have many similarities with feudal Akitsukuni. As for Kagami, her source of wealth came from her world-famous surname, as the granddaughter of the current president of the Sukimoto Zaibatsu conglomerate. These corporate juggernauts were one reason Akitsukuni's economy managed to skyrocket each time it went down, but were also reviled worldwide for their protectionism and hostile takeover policies - much like their home country itself.

Taller than Mariko but slightly shorter than Etsuko, Kagami struck a sort of middle ground between them. Her features were average, with her hair tied into a ponytail angled towards the left. As was the prevailing style in Miyako's youth, two sidelocks framed her face. She was the source of the group of friends' humour and entertainment, and prided herself on that fact. One of the few people to make the Ice Queen smile...

"No you can't," Kagami teased, stepping out of the shade, "but I know who can."

She straightened her back and placed both hands together by her fingertips, then forced the most neutral expression she could, no mean feat for the naturally bubbly personality. The sleeves of her uniform hung limply at her elbows as she stared into the distance poignantly.

"," she droned in a controlled monotone, "2 HCl + 2 Na → 2 NaCl + H²."

Mariko covered her mouth as she began chucking quietly, ever the over-polite Minor Princess. Etsuko was less restrained.

" 咸家鏟," Etsuko swore in Meisaani, the go-to language for foreign curse words, "Iroha!"

Kagami glared at her friend. Lowering her voice to a near-whisper, she rapidly ran through the kana poem.

"Iro ha nihoheto chirinuru wo wa ka yo tare so tsune naramu uwi no okuyama kefu koete asaki yume mishi wehi mo sesu."

Etsuko nearly died. Mariko continued covering her mouth, her face turning red again. Kagami dropped her hands.

"I can't keep it up. No way," her face broke into a wide grin.

"It was flawless, though," Etsuko replied from her position on the ground. The princess had turned away, no doubt still laughing to herself. The sun was almost gone by now.

Etsuko rolled over and nimbly arrived at her feet in a swift motion. Kagami noted that she had somehow swept up her shinai in the motion; so this is the power of a two-time regional kendo champion. She grabbed her bag and casually sidled over to her friend, resting against the wooden sword which she planted into the ground.

"I have to admit, though, I miss Kayako," she said as the sun's red edge disappeared behind the tip of the Yamagata Mountains. Somewhere far south Kayako would see this sunset a few hours later... Perhaps. Few of them had heard of Qo'yyen before.

"You miss copying her homework," Kagami retorted, already carrying her school bag.

Toyama shrugged her shoulders, gave a playful smile and pulled her backpack up by the right arm strap. The bag was identical to Kayako's, though Etsuko's was in a woodland-type pattern instead. She immediately started back down the hill towards the road, leaving Mariko behind. Tsukasa shook her head.

"O-Hime-sama! Let's go!"

Mariko blushed again.

[Toishima]

An exerpt from The History of the North Yashima Islands, a stage musical parodying the history of Akitsukuni by exiled activist-playwright Kazuki Kanai. Kanai's latest edition goes beyond the Chizuru Era for the first time to lambaste the rise of modern Akitsukuni, Shintaro Ishihara, his right-wing policies and war with Meisaan, Empress Kikuko herself and the subsequent coup of Ishihara. In light of recent geopolitcal events, the musical has become widely popular in the underground circuits and even some legitimate art houses.

---

<From behind the bamboo throne, which looks like a mess of bamboo rods and swords fashioned into the shape of a chair, emerges a small figure in black and red kimono. Her eyes covered with bandages, she gropes her way out onto front stage. Reporters surge onto stage and are repulsed by riot police. Ishihara gets off the throne and helps her up. She then slaps him twice, leaving him on the ground. The riot police part and the reporters bathe her in the light from their camera flashes. She makes a gesture of peace... Then pulls out a fan with the imperialist Hinomaru on it. The riot police remove their helmets to reveal patriotic rising sun hachimakis. Like in Ishihara's segment, the riot police act as backing singers.>

---

Kikuko

Oh, what have you done to this glorious nation
Of tradition and springtime beauty?
Our torii gates sold, an overworked population (So sad!)
How does this reflect upon me?

As your Holy Empress, I decree,
We need to move forward from this mess
Build science, welfare, get all the money (Develop!)
We'll surge ahead, beyond the rest...

(Tenno Heika Banzai!) <Kikuko sits on the throne, music becomes faster>

So let’s bring the nation into the future
But not too far ahead, please
I still want all of my divine power
And that Eulhae bounty we’ll never release (Never!) <Meisaan lanterns drop from above>

With our science we will begin the domination <A model of the Heiwa space station flies across stage, parts dropping off it>
Undercut them with cheap prices and more (Sukimoto!)
Protectionism is humanity's best invention (Mitsushishi!) <En notes start raining down>
Unleash our imperialist corporations galore! (Yamamura!)

When we don't like some world leader
Just send our commandos in (TokuSa!) <A riot police hands Kikuko an assault rifle>
We aren't scared to give nukes to a dictator
Who cares about the Sinju Union? (Who cares?) <Kikuko throws the rifle behind the throne>

A mainland institution to reintegrate the region...
We'll trade with them, take their money <Sinju Currency notes start falling>
But we give nothing in return! (Nothing!)
We're the Greater Empire, why the hell should we?!

Oh, and... <The reporters surround the throne. The music briefly slows down to the tune used in the first two verses>

World, please do not forget that I am blind (So special)
And at thirteen sat on that throne (So very special)

<Beat. Fast music returns.>

The modern Empire will leave them all behind
The world is ours to take, us alone!

---

<The three Imperial Military heads and Yoshinaga Kodaira appear from the smoke behind the throne, all portrayed as old men over-equipped with military gear, black kimonos and copious amounts of Rising Sun imagery. Ishihara gets off the ground and is grabbed by the riot police at Kodaira's signal. The reporters remain distracted by Kikuko, who poses "cutely", while Ishihara is violently dragged offstage. Kodaira bows and takes centre stage, in front of Kikuko. The three generals loom behind him.>

---

Kodaira

Y-e-e-e-e-s, your Imperial Highness, (Tenno Heika!)
The Imperial Military is at your command
The mainland is essentially powerless! (Jeongmi!)
Their weak forces are on the run (Meisaan!)

Mitanabe

With our fleets, we rule the waves, (rule the waves)

Toyama

Our armies crush every hill, (every hill)

Tenzai

Air power from above, so brave, (so brave)

All

All that stand against us, we shall kill! (Tenno Heika Banzai!)

Kazuki Kanai faces life imprisonment and possibly execution if he re-enters Akitsukuni. He currently resides in Chilcheonpo, southern Jeongmi.

[Arumdaum]

1850

Seon Dae-han dreamed of returning home to Seocheon one day. He had not been in Jeongmi in nearly twenty six… no, twenty seven years? Perhaps it had been twenty five, but to the aging man it had seemed an eternity.

His droopy, dirt-colored eyes were increasingly indifferent to the world around him, his back increasingly hunched. Blotches of burning skin cancer caressed his wrinkled neck, in the way that he imagined himself caressing his own daughter back home.

Geumja, his beautiful girl.

Geumja, the beautiful child with the hourglass birthmark.

Geumja, the beautiful reason he had been forced to leave Jeongmi.

“Mistah, how ah you today?”

Dae-han took note of the entrance of the brown, Nochtlican boy, the one who had been keeping him company for the past five years. He had helped to protect him from a local gang of ruffians with his gun; the natives were all afraid of him and the way he could kill a puma with just one strike. The boy had stuck to him since.

“Go home. I have nothing for you today.”

“Mistah, I think today quite lucky day. I think gods bless us most precious gift.”

“If I had been blessed, I wouldn’t be in such a rotten place.”

“Mistah, please look.”

The boy, Seong-jun, soon revealed from beneath his peasants’ rags a beautiful diamond, the brightest and largest diamond Dae-han had ever seen. The diamond shone like the full moon in the night sky, and all the stars with which it graced its presence. The shocked old man gasped, grabbing the diamond from the boy’s hands.

Dae-han had been living in the most abject conditions in his exile, unable to return home as he could not afford the fees to obtain passage on one of the ships. His knowledge of the Classics did not get him very far, here in this wild, uncivilized jungle of a world, especially as he continued to get older.

“Mistah, we use diamond together. We sell this at market very high price. Be richer than Nopaltzin in Coyotlco town. You go home.”

“Boy, this diamond is mine.” Dae-han’s hands were placed firmly on the diamond, his eyes fixated upon this… tantalizing object. This was it. He had waited five, ten, twenty, thirty, a thousand, ten-thousand years for this, this moment to happen! He would return to Jeongmi, he would apologize for his actions, he would tell everyone what pain he had suffered for his crimes, he would throw himself upon the ground where the feet of Na-jeong's father would grace, forgive his presence, his existence...

Not only would he return, but he would return a wealthy man as well.

But he could not come back with the boy. They would see it as unacceptable. Perhaps having adjusted to the wild jungle of deserts, savages, and coyotes. No. This was unacceptable to him as well.

"Boy, you cannot come with me. Jeongmi is not for you. You are from the land of Nochtlico. I will give you some of the money,, but consider this diamond your gift to me for providing you with your life. You must know that a savage like yourself does not belong in such a society."

In a burst of anger, the boy jumped onto the old man, the diamond slipping from his hands onto the floor. He had not been by the side of this senile vegetable for such a rejection of everything that had come before. He grabbed the hard rock, smashing in his head with the now-stained object. The old man did not - could not resist, his helpless shrieks of pain a violent rejection of the light in which the boy had previously seen him.

The boy fell the ground, tears flowing alongside the streams of blood he had painted himself with. The gentleman who he had seen as like his own father was disfigured, no longer moving... He rose from the floor, realizing that it was time to go, realizing that the goodness in people was just as impermanent and ephemeral as anything else in this world, or perhaps had never existed at all.

Yaotl emerged out of the corpse's hut with his war paint, throwing himself to a rare downpour of rain in the arid chaparral. The man continued walking toward the direction of the capital. He could fetch a better price for the diamond there.

Thank you, Seon Do-han, for opening my eyes to the truth of Nochtlico and Jeongmi. Thank you for allowing me to realize that even in the pathetic fight between the injured panther and the cruel hunter, the panther will still fight.

[Intermountain States]

1854, Gungnae, Geryo Territory

It was a normal day in the settlement of Gungnae. Farmers were out on the field for their harvest while soldiers are patrolling near the border to look out for raiders. It was sudden when a bleeding man with bruises and clothes ran from the woods. The elderly commander Yi Damul and his son Suwon ran to the bleeding man who collapsed into the commander's arm

"They're coming! They're coming!" The bleeding man yelled.

"Who is coming? What's going on?" Commander Damul commanded.

"The native raiders, they're coming in droves" the man painted before he dies in the commander's arm. Damul turned to the shocked soldiers.

"Prepare for battle, get the villagers inside the fort, go go go!" he yelled as everything is rushed into motion. Soldiers at the wall beat the drum as villagers rushed to the gate for safety. Most of the villagers left their homes and into neighboring settlements for refuge while some stayed behind, thinking that the siege will be over. Soldiers ran to the armory to grab rifles, ammunitions, and gunpowder. Additional cannons were brought up to the wall and messengers were sent to nearby settlements for assistance. Once it seemed that everyone made it through the fort, the gate was closed and the soldiers readied for a small siege. For a while, except for the wind and whispering from nervous soldiers. Then they heard it; the rustling of leaves and the native war cry. Soon, large numbers of raiders jumped from the woods, making loud yips while clutching their weapons.

"Fire!" Suwon yelled as the soldiers readied the cannons.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

Cannonballs roar through the air as the defenders held their grounds against large numbers of native raiders. The officers stood at the central upper area of the fort, with riflemen in front of the officers.

"Keep firing the cannons, do not let the barbarians through!" Suwon yelled as artillerymen reloaded and fired as fast as they could. Despite being outnumbered, the cannons were effective against the natives, taking down multiple raiders at a time.

"Get the grape shots in the cannon!" Suwon commanded at the soldiers start putting multiple small clips into the cannons. While the artillerymen were firing the cannons, a rain of arrows fell onto the defenders. Suwon and Damul ducked. "Get down!" Suwon yelled as some of the arrows hit defenders left and right. Suwon peeked through the hole of the cannon. A group of natives were firing arrows from their bows at distance while other raiders are moving forward. Damul stood up.

"Fire the cannons at the archers!" Suwon yelled, raising his revolver. "Protect the artilleries with the shields!" On cue, shieldmen rushed to the artillerymen and raised their shields, stopping most of the arrows. The artillerymen finally loaded the grape shots and fired. The small balls whissed through the air and instantly, many of the archers went down. The archers were disoriented, providing a perfect opportunity for the defenders to counterattack.

"Rifles to the front!" Damul yelled as the artillerymen moved the cannons back while three lines riflemen moved to the front. "Fire!" Damul yelled.

CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK CRACK.

The first line of soldiers fired their rifles then move to the back. The second line fired their rifles and then went behind the first line. The third line fired and also moved to the back. All the while, the rifle clips hit the approaching raiders, forcing them to fall back. However, the bowmen recovered from the panic and start firing back at the defenders, hitting the exposed riflemen. "Cannons to the front!" Damul yelled as the cannons were pushed into the front while the riflemen ducked. "Fire at the archers!" he yelled again. The small cannon balls hit the archers and the riflemen fired at the raiders. The exhausted raiders turned back and flee back into the woods in the midst of chaos. Suwon turned to Damul.

"Father, we must end the constant raids once and for all," he pleaded. "Give me 250 men to wipe out the barbarians."

"My son, we don't even have a thousand soldiers," Damul responded. "We must wait until the enemies return because it could be trap."

"Or an opportunity to bring peace to Andeok," Suwon said. "It's the only way possible. Besides, do you think the savages will re-organize and set a trap for a disciplined civilized army?" After a few minutes of consideration, Damul nodded unwillingly.

"Take the skirmishers with you and wipe out the raiders," Damul commanded. "I just want you to return to Gungnae safe."

"Don't worry Father, I will," Suwon responded. He turned to the gate keeper. "Open the gate!"

The gate opened at 250 soldiers and some officers lead by Captain Suwon ran from the gate and into the woods. Deep into the woods, they saw the retreating raiders and Suwon raised his revolver.

"Formation!" He yelled as the soldiers get into a three line formation. "Fire!" The first line fired their rifles at the fleeing raiders but arrows flew and hit some of the soldiers. Suwon looked around in shock. Another arrow flew and hit an officer. Once the soldiers heard war cries, it was apparent to them that they fell into a trap. "Fire all you can at the barbarians!" Suwon yelled as large numbers of the raiders ran to their position. The soldiers fired their rifles but many were hit by the arrows. "Prepare for close quarters!" Suwon commanded as the soldiers drew their sabres. Suwon fired the last of his revolver and drew his sabre. "Attack!" He yelled as the party charged towards the raiders.

It was chaotic as soldiers and raiders battled in close quarters. Suwon slashed a raider and stabbed another. He kicked a raider and stabbed him in the chest. Despite the soldier's best effort, it was obvious that the invaders had them outnumbered with the soldiers dying by the droves. Suwon slashed another raider but the party was overwhelmed as more raiders entered the skirmish. This time, an arrow hit his stomach. Suwon clutched his stomach to see blood on his hand and was starting to feel dizzy. He saw a soldier stab a tribal but then slashed by a tribal wielding a knife. He turned and saw a tribal impaling a soldier and another loping off a soldier's head. Three raiders approached him and with all his strengths, he managed to kill the three natives but he was hit with more arrows. This time, he had gotten on his knees, blood gushing from his mouth as he struggles to get up. A figure ran towards him with a tomahawk and then everything went black.

It has been a while since his son and 250 men left the fortress. Damul was worried. What if the party failed and they were all wiped out? Damul shook his head. The barbarians aren't exactly the organized type since when the Jeongmians came, they were mostly fighting each other. However, he had heard reports that the eastern natives are coming together but the reports are so far, unconfirmed.

The defenders then heard the noise, more rustling of the leaves and the loud war cries. Damul's heart sank, the attacking party has failed and it's likely that the officers were captured or killed, including his son. Numerous tribals emerged from forests but didn't move forward. An officer turned to Damul.

"Jangun, should we fire our weapons or something?" the officer asked. Damul shook his head.

"Wait, they're probably hear to surrender or discuss terms," Damul suggested. A tribal emerged from the group, holding a large bag. The confused defenders looked at the bag until the tribal pour the content out, disgusting the defenders. Out emerged from the bag were the heads of the defenders, including the head of Damul's son. Damul gripped his revolver in anger.

"You savages!" a soldier yelled out. The sight of the heads angered the old commander.

"GIVE THE BARBARIANS WHAT THEY DESERVE!" Damul yelled. "FIRE!"

The cannons begin the fire and the soldiers moved up, firing their rifles at the emerging raiders.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM.

The tribal holding the bag was hit and numerous raiders were killed. In response, The tribals charged at full speed, either running with ladders and weapons or at the back, firing their arrows. Some of the soldiers were hit by the arrows but continued to fire their guns.

"Do not stop, keep firing!" Damul yelled, firing his revolvers at the barbarians. More arrows rain on the defenders, killing more soldiers. By then, the tribals managed to get their ladders on the fortress and begin to climb. "Prevent the barbarians from reaching the fortress!" He commanded, shooting a tribal in the face with his revolver. Soldiers moved to the front and fired at the climbing invaders but were forced to be kept down by the arrows. Although many of the tribals were shot by the defenders, they made over the wall and they engaged in vicious close quarter combats against the Andeok soldiers. With the soldiers at the top of the fortress pre-occupied, the tribals were able to break the gate open. The soldiers at the bottom fired their rifles, killing the first few tribals but archers emerged and fired at the first line, hitting the riflemen.

"Hold them back as best as you can!" Damul yelled as he slashed a tribal in the head. They needed to assist the defenders at the bottom but the situation also calls for them at the wall. An arrow hit his arm and he cried out in pain. He saw an archer at his direction nocking an arrow. He grabbed a fallen defender's rifle and fired at the archer, watching the bullet struck the archer in the chest. Another arrow hit him, this time in the head and he fell from the wall and onto the ground, the last thing he could think of was his dead son.

The commanderless garrison is now at low morales. The commander is now dead and there are only a few officers left who could rally the garrison. Despite their rifles dealing heavy damage against the invaders, the amount of tribals were overwhelming the defenders, forcing the fighting to spill onto civilian areas.

Now the villagers are caught up in the fighting and the battle became more chaotic. The unfortunate villagers attempted to flee while the soldiers tried to prevent any casualties inflicted on the settlers. It was a losing fight as villagers were stabbed, slashed, or shot at by opportunistic tribals. An officer killed multiple tribals and raised his sabre.

"Get the villagers out of here!" He yelled before he slashed another raider. An arrow hit him and he fell onto the ground, dead. It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. Villagers and soldiers were slaughtered. There were almost no discrimination in the killing, be it men or women, the young or the elderly, the abled or the sick, the soldiers or the villagers. There were some who were fortunate enough to slip away but most were slaughtered. There were still survivors among the Gungnae inhabitants and the tribals took those who could walk back into their camps, leaving the wounded to die.

The Andeok Federal Army lead by Commander Jeon Daeun entered the ruined settlement. Guided by a refugee, the 600 strong battalion was sent to bolster Gungnae's defense but the weather delayed the troops and buy the time they reached the settlement, it was too late. Most of the people at the fort were killed. Instantly, the relief force was shocked, some barfed at the sight of the dead bodies slewn everywhere. Daeun turned to his men.

"Check all areas of the settlement for any survivors," he commanded. The soldiers nodded and searched the areas. Under the commander's order, a makeshift hospital was set up while the relief force combed through corpses to find some individuals who were hiding in fear or wounded soldiers and villagers. Daeun and a few soldiers walked past the corpse and went to the front. Besides the torn gate, corpses were everywhere. He walked up to the wall and surveyed the area. The whole place was filled with dead bodies. A soldier walked up to Daeun.

"Jangun, we found an officer who survived the battle. He is wounded but we think he can still live," the soldier informed him. Daeun nodded and walked to the hospital where he could see doctors treating the wounded people they found. He saw a wounded man wearing a blood stained uniform of an officer and walked towards him.

"I'm Commander Jeon Daeun. What's your name and rank?" he told the officer.

"My name is Yi Jun Gyu and I'm just a minor rank," the officer said. Daeun noted the soldier and asked,

"You were one of the survivors we found at the fort, were there any plans by the raiders?"

"We thought it was just a raid from those unruly barbarians. Gungnae has saw such raids all the time, just small skirmishes where the tribals will shoot arrows at us until our cannons and rifles force them back," Jun Gyu said. "Although, this time, it didn't feel like a raid. The tribals were a lot more organized than we thought and were in greater numbers. The tribes must have came together and planned the siege all the way through. We thought we beaten back the raid so the commander sent a small battalion to wipe out any offensive capabilities the barbarians might have but they fell into a trap and they were slaughtered," the wounded officer continued. "We saw the heads of the men who chased after them, including the son of the garrison commander. The commander snapped and order our men to fire. The natives basically overwhelmed us with numbers and broke through, killing almost everyone they saw. They captured a couple of villagers and soldiers. They must've taken them to their camp."

"Thank you for your report," Daeun said. He turned to his officers. "Bring all the dead bodies into one area and find their identification in any way you can. Burn the bodies but keep their identifications. For now, we will use this fortress for our resting grounds before we move at tomorrow."

"What are we planning to do, Jangun?" an officer asked.

"We're going to take the camp and free the prisoners," Daeun responded. "But for now, we need to prepare if the tribals return. Make sure the cannons work, repair the gate, and post snipers all over the wall."

[Amazonian Fifth Legion]

Argonautika, Amazonia

March 4, 2000

The streets were abandoned. Dejected. The Ancient Hellenic architecture of the buildings around Hellenia were stained beige with time and draped with Fascist imagery, and propaganda praising the Matriarch Themiskyra, supposed Matriarch of the Aryan Race. Hellenia was the paragon of the ideal that the Dictatorship wanted, a blue eyed, blonde haired, physically fit female. It's why she was hiding. She got home from school to find her family gone, with a note and around 300 NSD in cash. The note read as follows;

Hellenia-dear,
Today is your 14th birthday. Today, two hours after you get out of school, the Astynomía will come to the house and attempt to take you to Propaganda Camp. To make sure to throw them off the trail we left first, and you must go alone for we must take care of Elder Aristakoi, you are fit enough to leave the country. Please, take the train to Xispartoi and ask a man named Yioannas for a ride to Jeongmi. It will cost 3000 Dinars and we provided you with 5000 in total.

You must understand, Hellenia-dear, that we do not want you to grow up in a country where only the rich elite can even dream of being what they want. At 14, in our culture, that is when a girl becomes a woman. They need women for their armies, and the army does not protect this nation. They kill innocents. When you get to Jeongmi, please meet us at the station Yioannas will drop you off in.

The Gods Be With You,
Ophelia-mother

It brought a tear every time Hellenia read it over and over, with disbelief that she could be cursed to grow up in such a place. She had a older sister who used to love football and kicking it around with her friends, both female and male. They took her to Propaganda Camp at 14 and she returned a ardent fascist, married one of the feminine entertainer boys, and joined the Young Aryans League. She had no interest for footballs anymore, she only had interest in torturing those the state deemed impure. Of course, nobody thought that would happen. Some young girls left Propaganda Camp unharmed. Most came back mentally damaged, and yet others, like her sister, returned utterly changed by the horrors that would await her if she did not leave the country immediately.

It's why she instinctively ran when a shrill voice coming from a tall, dark haired and pale skinned police officer yelled out a command in Hellenic. "HALT, CITIZEN! PRESENT YOUR IDENTIFICATION!" The woman yelled, chasing Hellenia down a narrow path, shooting a few warning shots. Hellennia took marathon running for a small while, so she easily outran the policewoman. Unluckily for her, she caught the attention of other police officers.

Suddenly, the sound of a butterfly blade shattered the air, the knife catching itself in the throat of the policewoman chasing Hellenia down the street. A man with long hair, a leather jacket, and denim trousers threw the blade and tackled the policewoman down. All the police stopped paying attention to the blonde haired girl running towards the train station and went to go save the hero that was hidden under punk clothing.

This was a day that would change Hellenia's life, and a day that would influence her decisions for years to come. One day, she will return to Amazonia, and people would no longer have to run. Silently thanking the mysterious man, she reached a train, paid the fee, and gasped for breath on the faintly musty air of the train car.

[Toishima]

A Visit to the North

You get off the train at Shiogama Station, on the outskirts of small town Shiogama, Shimoda Province, in the northern reaches of Akitsukuni. It's cooler up here compared to the south, even during summer, thanks to icy currents coming down from the Arctic Ocean. Shimoda is famous for its picturesque forested areas and mountain hot springs, as well as the beautiful icy landscape in the winter. In the summer, the rolling hills are open for free-roaming livestock, some of the last remnants of old Akitsukunese culture before the Empire's mass desire to compete with the Mainland led them to begin factory farming and such pollutions in the south. The north truly is an untouched wilderness in many aspects, even in such a developed and populated nation as Akitsukuni.

The people up here are different as well. Compared to the tall, very pale people of the central regions, the northern Akitsukunese tend to be shorter and stockier, and while still pale not nearly as fair as those from Chūbu. You're just stopping over on the train ride from Hakodate to Ishikari, so you don't go far from the train station. You immediately notice the local fashions, which vary from the modern and traditional fusions in the south due to the utilitarian needs of the locals. Almost everyone is wearing some kind of tracksuit, from men in blue and blacks to women casually walking in garishly bright pink ones. Another thing you notice is the noise. The people of the south and central - particularly the central - tend to keep their volumes down. Everyone up here seems to be perpetually shouting.

And another major difference you spot as you walk to a nearby roadside yakitori stand is that there are smiles everywhere. The joke that the farther one got away from Heian, the happier one got does have some basis in truth. The people might as well have been shouting at each other on their phones and in conversations, but it was all jovial. No more blank stares and scowls of the Heian you left behind three days ago. It was also like this in Tsukushi at the south of the Empire, while the massive hordes in the world's largest city never even looked up from their newspapers of smartphones.

You breathe in the earthy smell of the traditionally-prepared roadside yakitori, also taking in a myriad of other fresh smells, from leaves to freshly-cut grass to the cool bite of the air itself. You start to cross the road at a traffic crossing once the blue man appeared, along with a helpful timer to tell you how long you have to cross - Such helpful systems are of course all over the Empire.

Suddenly, a car runs the red light and drives past you at blinding speed, a glossy black semi-luxury sedan. The windows are rolled down, and extremely loud hard bass gangster rap to the tune of synthesised taiko drums pours out of the vehicle as you step back in shock. The driver nonchalantly flicks a cigarette butt out of the car down the road, and you start to notice the trash on the streets, a far cry from the pristine roads of Heian, Miyako, Kagoshima and even other cities like Hapcheon.

Making it across the road without any further incidents, you walk up to the yakitori stand. The man is a portly, friendly-looking guy who sits leaning back against a cheap plastic chair, a bottle of sake in hand. He casually takes a swig of the liquor and places in back down next to his seat, then rises up and serves you. The price is somewhat high for three sticks of grilled chicken, which is almost entirely surely to be due to your foreign accent. The people of the north have their own accent atop the Yashimese standard accent, consisting of dragged syllables and a generally more relaxed delivery than the rapid Miyako or controlled Heian ones. You pay up anyway and turn around to see a man queuing behind you.

Slung over the cap-wearing man's back is a Fukuzawa 39-Shiki, the infamously globally proliferated assault rifle with the curved magazine that was born in this nation. You are slightly taken aback until he smiles at you and you step out of the way for him to get his food. While all of Akitsukuni has free firearms ownership, the north was known for their relatively liberal stances on public display of firearms. The wilderness out here makes the forest perfect for hunting as well, so the amount of people walking around with rifles are justified somewhat. A pickup truck similarly blaring hard bass rap music drives past, carrying a dead deer partially covered by a tarp. A man waves to you, an old Eulhae-war era rifle in his lap. You smile back.

Looking both ways this time to avoid any murderous drivers, you make it back across the road and back to the train station. National train stations - particularly those in small towns - were often built to a standard design and layout all over the Empire, especially after the national campaign in the 90s to replace the old uncovered single-platform 'stations' with proper structures. As those who plan said designs tend to be located in a monolithic glass building in downtown Heian with the sensibilities of that area, as you step into the blue and white building you seem to be leaving a richly unique place behind, replaced by the stark corners and ground safety markings of the well-developed central.

A trio of signs endorsed by the National Railways Corporation (North) warning people to conceal their firearms, not to smoke and to be courteous by keeping their volume down stares at you as you go down to the platform where your train further north to Ishikari awaits. In the south, and even further up north in Ishikari, the local culture, behaviours and even accents are slowly being displaced by what seems to be erroneously seen as a superior attitude to life; the determined stoicism of the Centre. You wonder if this is a miniature version of what is happening everywhere in the world, as people try to conform to the cultural standards of Jeongmi, or to a lesser extent Akitsukuni itself.

As you step up the train, however, you hear a man sitting on a bench on the platform talking loudly into his phone in direct defiance of the poster on the pillar next to him. Perhaps there is still hope yet.