The Second Insaani Civil War (IC/ITALY WAR NATIONS ONLY)

[Insaanistan]

Lillian MacDuff
Lillian paused as she considered Ien's point. "That can't be right." she muttered. "Hang on."

She ran her fingers over her copy, in Polish Braille. An eyebrow arched, and finally, she began to laugh, shaking her head. "...I wrote this in fifteen minutes." she admitted. "I'll...get a fixed copy up. Mariana?"

The tanned girl looked up from her laptop and nodded, before beginning to type. "Add in provisions to specify the cessation of Catalonia and Navarra to the provisional government...Canaries to be added to provisional government and given referendum...Portugal...what else?" she asked.

Lillian shook her head. "That will be all, I believe. As for Granada..."
She turned to Ayesha and sighed. "If you can prove that Granada was part of Insaanistan before 1960 I suppose Insaanistan can have it. That said, I believe the State of Spain administered that territory prior to 1960, so...that said, there is nothing prohibiting a customs union or a similar arrangement postwar."

Iên thought for a moment, trying to remember if anything else had come up during the conference prior.

"I think," he began hesitantly, "we might also want to solidify Italian, Insaani, and Spanish sea borders, seeing as how we have already nearly had war begin over these as well. Also, what has been decided for Gibraltar? I seem to remember that being a point of contention as well."

"As for Granada, I don't think anyone is going to be willing to allow the entirety of the region to be kept as part of Insaanistan. Perhaps we could pick a coastal city, like Motril or Almuñécar, and allow that to be autonomous for a set period of time before integrating it back into Spain proper, à la Hong Kong. That way we are not completely abandoning the Insaani people living in Granada, yet we are also not carving another chunk out of Spain."

Finishing his tea, Iên places his cup down on the table. Luckily most issues had been worked out in the last conference. However, tensions still were high between Insaanistan and its former European territories. Iên hoped that he could once again find the reasonable middle ground in all this and help bring lasting peace to the parties involved.

---

“Splendid,” Asim said. He turned back to the Syrian man. “Okay, she will have chicken shawarma, tabouleh, and falafel.”
“Drinks?”
“Vimto for all of us.”
As the man went to prepare the food with his employees, Asim pointed to a table. “We can sit over there.”
He whispered “bismillah” as he sat down and placed Faisal in the seat next to him. Looking at Long apologetically, he said, “Sorry, I needed a taste of home. Most of the food is different to my knowledge.”

"No need to apologize, I know the feeling," Ms. Long said with a smile. "Everything in your life has changed rather fast, it's understandable to need time to adjust and wrap your head around all of this. If anything, I find it admirable that you've taken to this with some degree of optimism so far."

As she sat across the table from Asim, Long Zianhi felt a wave of nervousness hit her. On the train she could easily convince herself that interacting with Asim was part of her job. But now, sitting together at a restaurant, she found it difficult to keep the thought that this was more than simply professional courtesy out of her mind. And the fact that it was Asim on the other side of the table made it all the more difficult. Long's heart raced, and she subconsciously began taking deeper breathes in an effort to calm herself down.

“The City of Granada itself is of the utmost importance,” Ayesha said. “Perhaps said territory can extend from Málaga to Jaén to Almería. Or, if that is too much, I suppose it can only take up the city of Granada. Gibraltar is a whole nother issue. Like Granada the province, it’s about half North African and West African. However, several members of the coalition have expressed great concern over the idea Insaanistan might retain control over Gibraltar, thus giving us control over both sides of the Mediterranean. ABH being the most vocal, I believe. Perhaps an agreement similar to that over Granada suggested by Iên can take place?” she offered.

---

“Thank you,” Asim said. “I have to stay optimistic. Faisal will notice if I’m upset! Besides, the Qur’ân says ‘Fainamaāl usri yusra. Inamaāl usri yusra.’ For with hardship comes ease. Verily, with hardship comes ease. Things will get better, Inshallah.”
However, he then noticed Long breathing heavily.
“Ms. Long? Ms. Long? Zianhi? Are you alright?” he asked, tapping her forearm, which was one the table.
One of the workers placed the food Asim had ordered at their table.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Iên thought for a moment, trying to remember if anything else had come up during the conference prior.

"I think," he began hesitantly, "we might also want to solidify Italian, Insaani, and Spanish sea borders, seeing as how we have already nearly had war begin over these as well. Also, what has been decided for Gibraltar? I seem to remember that being a point of contention as well."

"As for Granada, I don't think anyone is going to be willing to allow the entirety of the region to be kept as part of Insaanistan. Perhaps we could pick a coastal city, like Motril or Almuñécar, and allow that to be autonomous for a set period of time before integrating it back into Spain proper, à la Hong Kong. That way we are not completely abandoning the Insaani people living in Granada, yet we are also not carving another chunk out of Spain."

Finishing his tea, Iên places his cup down on the table. Luckily most issues had been worked out in the last conference. However, tensions still were high between Insaanistan and its former European territories. Iên hoped that he could once again find the reasonable middle ground in all this and help bring lasting peace to the parties involved.

“The City of Granada itself is of the utmost importance,” Ayesha said. “Perhaps said territory can extend from Málaga to Jaén to Almería. Or, if that is too much, I suppose it can only take up the city of Granada. Gibraltar is a whole nother issue. Like Granada the province, it’s about half North African and West African. However, several members of the coalition have expressed great concern over the idea Insaanistan might retain control over Gibraltar, thus giving us control over both sides of the Mediterranean. ABH being the most vocal, I believe. Perhaps an agreement similar to that over Granada suggested by Iên can take place?” she offered.

"The city of Granada-" Lillian noted. "Is landlocked. This could lead to issues with regards to Spain potentially shutting off access to the city to pressure for it's return. I would suggest such a temporary lease to be in a port city; perhaps Huelva. As for Gibraltar...I believe making it a free city guarded by an international contigent would suffice to ensure neutrality."

[Insaanistan]

Iên thought for a moment, trying to remember if anything else had come up during the conference prior.

"I think," he began hesitantly, "we might also want to solidify Italian, Insaani, and Spanish sea borders, seeing as how we have already nearly had war begin over these as well. Also, what has been decided for Gibraltar? I seem to remember that being a point of contention as well."

"As for Granada, I don't think anyone is going to be willing to allow the entirety of the region to be kept as part of Insaanistan. Perhaps we could pick a coastal city, like Motril or Almuñécar, and allow that to be autonomous for a set period of time before integrating it back into Spain proper, à la Hong Kong. That way we are not completely abandoning the Insaani people living in Granada, yet we are also not carving another chunk out of Spain."

Finishing his tea, Iên places his cup down on the table. Luckily most issues had been worked out in the last conference. However, tensions still were high between Insaanistan and its former European territories. Iên hoped that he could once again find the reasonable middle ground in all this and help bring lasting peace to the parties involved.

“The City of Granada itself is of the utmost importance,” Ayesha said. “Perhaps said territory can extend from Málaga to Jaén to Almería. Or, if that is too much, I suppose it can only take up the city of Granada. Gibraltar is a whole nother issue. Like Granada the province, it’s about half North African and West African. However, several members of the coalition have expressed great concern over the idea Insaanistan might retain control over Gibraltar, thus giving us control over both sides of the Mediterranean. ABH being the most vocal, I believe. Perhaps an agreement similar to that over Granada suggested by Iên can take place?” she offered.

"The city of Granada-" Lillian noted. "Is landlocked. This could lead to issues with regards to Spain potentially shutting off access to the city to pressure for it's return. I would suggest such a temporary lease to be in a port city; perhaps Huelva. As for Gibraltar...I believe making it a free city guarded by an international contigent would suffice to ensure neutrality."

Ayesha sighed. Hopefully, the handover of Grants to Spain wouldn’t make people too angry.
“Well, I suppose it’s the best we’ve got,” Ayesha said. “I agree completely on the matter of Gibraltar as well. Will the inhabitants have to reapply for Insaani and UK citizenship or will they simply keep their current citizenship statuses?”

[Insaanistan]

“Burada ne yapıyorsun?” a voice asked annoyedly. Muhammad turned around to see Junaida, or rather, Warda, impatiently walking past him. “I’m working, I don’t have time for talking.”
“I’d like you to make me a fake birth certificate,” he said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Some jobs here require them, don’t they?”
“Not the jobs you’re looking at,” responded Warda.
“Please? I’ll leave as soon as you’re done,” he promised.
Warda sighed. “Fine. Give me a second.” She entered his name and put Pashtunistan City as his city of birth. Then, she printed it out and stamped it with the seal.
“It’ll dry soon,” she said. “Wait a couple minutes.”
“Why you wear that bandana?” he asked her.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“Well, why do you wear the bandana? It certainly isn’t a niqab.”
Her eyes ablaze with anger, she tore off her face scarf and showed the bottom half of her face, which had a long scar running down from her left cheekbone to the bottom right of her chin.
“There? Happy?” she asked.
“Woah! You’re pretty,” he commented.
“You have 10 seconds to take the certificate and get out before I stab you in the eye.”
“Very f-“
“9…8…” she counted. Realizing she was serious, he picked up the paper and bolted out the door onto the bazaar street.

---

Abdul-Ghaffar Yusuf was on track to be candidate for Insaanistan’s presidency. News polls already put him as a public favorite, much to the chagrin of people like Abdul-Aziz. Now, however, all that was left was for actual elections to be set up for him to lead the country. Originally in the same bloc as Asim, the 2 had fallen out over Asim’s actions and policies, leading Yusuf to distance himself from Tamzali. Now, it was Yusuf who was almost certain to be leading the country. Wherever Asim was, that would be a terrible blow, Abdul-Ghaffar thought to himself.

[Gongsi]

"The city of Granada-" Lillian noted. "Is landlocked. This could lead to issues with regards to Spain potentially shutting off access to the city to pressure for it's return. I would suggest such a temporary lease to be in a port city; perhaps Huelva. As for Gibraltar...I believe making it a free city guarded by an international contigent would suffice to ensure neutrality."

Ayesha sighed. Hopefully, the handover of Grants to Spain wouldn’t make people too angry.
“Well, I suppose it’s the best we’ve got,” Ayesha said. “I agree completely on the matter of Gibraltar as well. Will the inhabitants have to reapply for Insaani and UK citizenship or will they simply keep their current citizenship statuses?”

"I think the citizens of Gibraltar would most likely be able to keep their citizenship status," Iên said. "I don't see why they would need to be stripped of their citizenship. They may need to fill out some new paperwork should they choose to stay in Gibraltar, though, but that is for the city's new governing body to decide."

Iên was relieved the negotiations were going over well this time around. The image of an enraged Ayesha fighting tooth-and-nail to keep Granada as part of Insaanistan was still fresh in the Gongsian diplomat's mind. Still, he was glad she hadn't completely surrendered hope, as it made aiding Insaanistan much easier. He did truly feel bad for the Insaanis, who had seen nothing but war and hardship over the past few years. Iên reckoned that the sooner Insaanistan found peace the better.

"So, is there anything else we need to discuss?"

---

“Thank you,” Asim said. “I have to stay optimistic. Faisal will notice if I’m upset! Besides, the Qur’ân says ‘Fainamaāl usri yusra. Inamaāl usri yusra.’ For with hardship comes ease. Verily, with hardship comes ease. Things will get better, Inshallah.”
However, he then noticed Long breathing heavily.
“Ms. Long? Ms. Long? Zianhi? Are you alright?” he asked, tapping her forearm, which was one the table.
One of the workers placed the food Asim had ordered at their table.

"O-oh...yes, I'm fine!" Long Zianhi replied, offering a terribly constructed smile. Now that her irregular breathing was brought to her attention, Ms. Long made a conscious effort to bring her lungs under control.

With the food now before them, Ms. Long took a moment to try and gather her thoughts. Failing that, she quietly began eating her meal. Her eyes wandered everywhere but Asim, electing to focus on floor tiles or specks on the walls instead. She could feel the immense heat radiating from the red of her embarrassment, the new shade readily visible across her face.

[Insaanistan]

Ayesha sighed. Hopefully, the handover of Grants to Spain wouldn’t make people too angry.
“Well, I suppose it’s the best we’ve got,” Ayesha said. “I agree completely on the matter of Gibraltar as well. Will the inhabitants have to reapply for Insaani and UK citizenship or will they simply keep their current citizenship statuses?”

"I think the citizens of Gibraltar would most likely be able to keep their citizenship status," Iên said. "I don't see why they would need to be stripped of their citizenship. They may need to fill out some new paperwork should they choose to stay in Gibraltar, though, but that is for the city's new governing body to decide."

Iên was relieved the negotiations were going over well this time around. The image of an enraged Ayesha fighting tooth-and-nail to keep Granada as part of Insaanistan was still fresh in the Gongsian diplomat's mind. Still, he was glad she hadn't completely surrendered hope, as it made aiding Insaanistan much easier. He did truly feel bad for the Insaanis, who had seen nothing but war and hardship over the past few years. Iên reckoned that the sooner Insaanistan found peace the better.

"So, is there anything else we need to discuss?"

---

“Thank you,” Asim said. “I have to stay optimistic. Faisal will notice if I’m upset! Besides, the Qur’ân says ‘Fainamaāl usri yusra. Inamaāl usri yusra.’ For with hardship comes ease. Verily, with hardship comes ease. Things will get better, Inshallah.”
However, he then noticed Long breathing heavily.
“Ms. Long? Ms. Long? Zianhi? Are you alright?” he asked, tapping her forearm, which was one the table.
One of the workers placed the food Asim had ordered at their table.

"O-oh...yes, I'm fine!" Long Zianhi replied, offering a terribly constructed smile. Now that her irregular breathing was brought to her attention, Ms. Long made a conscious effort to bring her lungs under control.

With the food now before them, Ms. Long took a moment to try and gather her thoughts. Failing that, she quietly began eating her meal. Her eyes wandered everywhere but Asim, electing to focus on floor tiles or specks on the walls instead. She could feel the immense heat radiating from the red of her embarrassment, the new shade readily visible across her face.

“Right then. I’m quite satisfied with the terms. Not much more we can demand from my end, anyway,” Ayesha said. “I personally have nothing else to add.”
Iên was not the only one who remember Ayesha’s more fervent attempts to retain control of Southern Spain. She did as well. But she had witnessed how little that had actually done to get the country any gains.

---

“Okay…” Asim said raising an eyebrow, confused by her behavior. A curious smile crossed his face before he decided it would be best not to push the matter further. Saying bismillah, he began eating his food as well, flooded with memories of Cairo, Alexandria, and Muslimbol. Egypt seemed like it was so close yet a whole world away from the restaurant. Faisal began to mess with some of his food and put it on the table rather than in his mouth.
“Come on! Faisal!” complained Asim. “We eat food, not okay with it. Here, like this,” he said, using his hand to place a falafel ball in his nephew’s mouth. He chuckled.
“Note to self: do not bring children with you on dates.” Realizing his slip of his tongue, he quickly attempted to correct his mistake.
“Not that this one! Meeting. So sorry!”

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Lillian shook her head. "I believe...that is all, Mister Ien. Mariana?"

At the sound of her name, the tanned teenager's keyboard started to rattle again, and then she clicked a few buttons. A few times she frowned and swore under her breath, but finally, she responded.
"I've made the edits and sent the treaty over to the print shop. Sent a copy to everyone else too." she replied. "Don't bother me again, I'm playing War Thunder and I have Americans to sealclub."

Lillian smiled at her words, as did Hillshire.

Lillian continued. "Not even to eat?"

Mariana shook her head. "Nah, had a bucket of ice cream over here."

"That's...not very healthy, Mariana." Giuseppe observed. "You've seen my grandma and her dentures. You want to end up like that?"

"Sod yourself, Boss." she grunted. "It tastes amazing."

"...Not really, way too sweet-"

"I'll sweeten your mom."

Giuseppe hid a grin behind his hand. "She'd break your arms, kid."

Mariana sorted. "I'd like to see her try."

Lillian sighed and smiled. "Right. Now that we've got it all sorted out, I'll send for food. I think they're serving pasta tonight." She turned to her aide. "Sergeant, three meals from the mess-hall please, and make sure one of them is vegetarian."

"Righty-o, Ma'am." he replied. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

Lillian turned back to Ien, and seemed to gauge her next words for a few seconds. "...Ambassador, a few seconds of your time, if you will? I have something I need to discuss with you outside."

[Gongsi]

Lillian shook her head. "I believe...that is all, Mister Ien. Mariana?"

At the sound of her name, the tanned teenager's keyboard started to rattle again, and then she clicked a few buttons. A few times she frowned and swore under her breath, but finally, she responded.
"I've made the edits and sent the treaty over to the print shop. Sent a copy to everyone else too." she replied. "Don't bother me again, I'm playing War Thunder and I have Americans to sealclub."

Lillian smiled at her words, as did Hillshire.

Lillian continued. "Not even to eat?"

Mariana shook her head. "Nah, had a bucket of ice cream over here."

"That's...not very healthy, Mariana." Giuseppe observed. "You've seen my grandma and her dentures. You want to end up like that?"

"Sod yourself, Boss." she grunted. "It tastes amazing."

"...Not really, way too sweet-"

"I'll sweeten your mom."

Giuseppe hid a grin behind his hand. "She'd break your arms, kid."

Mariana sorted. "I'd like to see her try."

Lillian sighed and smiled. "Right. Now that we've got it all sorted out, I'll send for food. I think they're serving pasta tonight." She turned to her aide. "Sergeant, three meals from the mess-hall please, and make sure one of them is vegetarian."

"Righty-o, Ma'am." he replied. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

Lillian turned back to Ien, and seemed to gauge her next words for a few seconds. "...Ambassador, a few seconds of your time, if you will? I have something I need to discuss with you outside."

"Of course," Iên said, following Lillian out of the tent. He had no idea what Lillian wished to speak to him about, seeing as how the negotiation had finally come to an end. Still, she did save him and Ayesha, so Iên was more than willing to hear what she wanted to say.

---

“Okay…” Asim said raising an eyebrow, confused by her behavior. A curious smile crossed his face before he decided it would be best not to push the matter further. Saying bismillah, he began eating his food as well, flooded with memories of Cairo, Alexandria, and Muslimbol. Egypt seemed like it was so close yet a whole world away from the restaurant. Faisal began to mess with some of his food and put it on the table rather than in his mouth.
“Come on! Faisal!” complained Asim. “We eat food, not okay with it. Here, like this,” he said, using his hand to place a falafel ball in his nephew’s mouth. He chuckled.
“Note to self: do not bring children with you on dates.” Realizing his slip of his tongue, he quickly attempted to correct his mistake.
“Not that this one! Meeting. So sorry!”

"It's...n-no, of c-c-course...this i-is...." Long stammered, slowly turning a deeper shade of red. However, as her mind processed the words, her once suppressed professionalism returned from its untimely grave to slap her across the face. Clearing her throat, Ms. Long once again attempted to regain her lost composure.

"So, how have you liked Gongsi so far?" she asked, internally wincing as the words escaped her mouth. It was a dumb, overly generic question and she knew it, but she was desperate to return to a normal conversation. At the very least it would steer the topic back towards the tour she was supposed to be giving at the moment.

[Insaanistan]

Lillian shook her head. "I believe...that is all, Mister Ien. Mariana?"

At the sound of her name, the tanned teenager's keyboard started to rattle again, and then she clicked a few buttons. A few times she frowned and swore under her breath, but finally, she responded.
"I've made the edits and sent the treaty over to the print shop. Sent a copy to everyone else too." she replied. "Don't bother me again, I'm playing War Thunder and I have Americans to sealclub."

Lillian smiled at her words, as did Hillshire.

Lillian continued. "Not even to eat?"

Mariana shook her head. "Nah, had a bucket of ice cream over here."

"That's...not very healthy, Mariana." Giuseppe observed. "You've seen my grandma and her dentures. You want to end up like that?"

"Sod yourself, Boss." she grunted. "It tastes amazing."

"...Not really, way too sweet-"

"I'll sweeten your mom."

Giuseppe hid a grin behind his hand. "She'd break your arms, kid."

Mariana sorted. "I'd like to see her try."

Lillian sighed and smiled. "Right. Now that we've got it all sorted out, I'll send for food. I think they're serving pasta tonight." She turned to her aide. "Sergeant, three meals from the mess-hall please, and make sure one of them is vegetarian."

"Righty-o, Ma'am." he replied. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

Lillian turned back to Ien, and seemed to gauge her next words for a few seconds. "...Ambassador, a few seconds of your time, if you will? I have something I need to discuss with you outside."

"Of course," Iên said, following Lillian out of the tent. He had no idea what Lillian wished to speak to him about, seeing as how the negotiation had finally come to an end. Still, she did save him and Ayesha, so Iên was more than willing to hear what she wanted to say.

---

“Okay…” Asim said raising an eyebrow, confused by her behavior. A curious smile crossed his face before he decided it would be best not to push the matter further. Saying bismillah, he began eating his food as well, flooded with memories of Cairo, Alexandria, and Muslimbol. Egypt seemed like it was so close yet a whole world away from the restaurant. Faisal began to mess with some of his food and put it on the table rather than in his mouth.
“Come on! Faisal!” complained Asim. “We eat food, not okay with it. Here, like this,” he said, using his hand to place a falafel ball in his nephew’s mouth. He chuckled.
“Note to self: do not bring children with you on dates.” Realizing his slip of his tongue, he quickly attempted to correct his mistake.
“Not that this one! Meeting. So sorry!”

"It's...n-no, of c-c-course...this i-is...." Long stammered, slowly turning a deeper shade of red. However, as her mind processed the words, her once suppressed professionalism returned from its untimely grave to slap her across the face. Clearing her throat, Ms. Long once again attempted to regain her lost composure.

"So, how have you liked Gongsi so far?" she asked, internally wincing as the words escaped her mouth. It was a dumb, overly generic question and she knew it, but she was desperate to return to a normal conversation. At the very least it would steer the topic back towards the tour she was supposed to be giving at the moment.

“I-It’s lovely,” he said. “I especially have taken a liking to Khuntiên. The both the city and the countryside are simply amazing.” He went back to eating his food and silently cursed in Masri Arabic. He was now more and more curious about Long’s reaction to what he had said. He didn’t want to push it, but he also wanted to see if he could figure what she was thinking out more. As he munched on a shawarma, he debated whether he should say something more on the matter.

[Insaanistan]

Breaking News: Suicide bombers have hit five Shiā Muslim mosques who were giving sermons on the mourning day of Ashura, with armed men attempting to assault a sixth. The men were promptly faced with police officers and security guards who forced them to surrender. The identities of the captured perpetrators have not been released.
Meanwhile, 3 flights filled with Shiā Muslims were downed, one over the Red Sea and the other two crashing over Saudi Arabia. Rescue teams have been sent to all three crashes, desperate to find survivors. The flights were intending to take the majority of those inside to the tomb of the Prophet Muhammad (S)’s grandson, Husayn ibn Abi Talib, in Karbala, Iraq, to mourn his death at the hands of the Caliph Yazid. No group has claimed responsibility, and the governments of Insaanistan, Iraq and Iran have condemned the attack.
OOC: This helps establish what time it is IC. Today ICly is August 18, 2021.

[The Jamesian Republic]

This was a Victory City Times Op-Ed piece by Douglas Hopkins. Yes that Douglas Hopkins who was at the conference.

Insaanistan: From a Beacon of Hope to a Battle Field
Insaanistan, once the Middle East and Africa's pilar of sanity in a world gone mad to now falling into the madness of the world. The country in a span of less than a year has fallen into chaos. It's decline began with the first civil war in October 2020. However in January 2021 the war was over. The civil war caused Insaanistan to dissolve into various bickering states with varying ideologies. Eventually the country was reunited but the war made the Insaani territories of Italy and Iberia become emboldened, this would lead to the current situation.

Insaanistan since November 2020 has gone through 4 leaders and 3 governmental systems. Insaanistan before the wars was a presidential democracy. Then due to the situation became a constitutional monarchy between Novemeber 2020 - July 2021 and back again to a presidential system but under a dictatorship. Now the country is under a transitional government. This has also contributed to the decline in Insaanistan. In a span of less than a year Mustafa Abu Jamal Soraya Khan Nura Khan and Asim Tamzali have been rulers of Insaanistan. Two are dead and the other two are missing. Even parliament has resulted into a Battle Royale between the political system making legislature impossible to do. The lack of a functioning or even sane government and a rapid fire succession of power within less than a year has severely damaged the nation.

Then there is the question of European Independence. To the casual observer the question of why a Pan Arab/Africanist nation want with Europe? Muslims used to rule parts of Europe and since Iberia and Italy during the 1960s were in a period of turmoil Insaanistan took advantage of reclaiming the lost Muslim hold on the region. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. In April 2021 Italy and Iberia declared independence and Insaanistan fought tooth and nail to keep it. The Jamesian Republic tried to stay neutral and tried to provide a voice of reason but ultimately it went nowhere just like the situation in Europe. Insaanistan due to the war has found itself plagued by extremism terrorism and ethnic tensions that make would make the former Yugoslavia blush. It seems in the eyes of Jamesia that the European War is one that cannot be won for Insaanistan and no amount of Jamesian help can change that. It even seems amongst the other nations involved in the war that even simply negotiating the end of the war ends up nowhere. This war has left Insaanistan in turmoil, two missing leaders, and a now defunct royal family.

In conclusion Insaanistan is now at a cross roads. With the royal family dead and gone, a government that is spinning out of control, ethnic tensions, terrorism/extremism and a war that has resulted in a stale mate which has left an uncertain and frightening future for both South Europe and Insaanistan. Will the situation result in Balkanization? Or maybe the government of Insaanistan take a moment and look inwards and realize that it is time to for dialogue and being frank and honest with itself and make a better brighter future.

[Insaanistan]

This was a Victory City Times Op-Ed piece by Douglas Hopkins. Yes that Douglas Hopkins who was at the conference.

Insaanistan: From a Beacon of Hope to a Battle Field
Insaanistan, once the Middle East and Africa's pilar of sanity in a world gone mad to now falling into the madness of the world. The country in a span of less than a year has fallen into chaos. It's decline began with the first civil war in October 2020. However in January 2021 the war was over. The civil war caused Insaanistan to dissolve into various bickering states with varying ideologies. Eventually the country was reunited but the war made the Insaani territories of Italy and Iberia become emboldened, this would lead to the current situation.

Insaanistan since November 2020 has gone through 4 leaders and 3 governmental systems. Insaanistan before the wars was a presidential democracy. Then due to the situation became a constitutional monarchy between Novemeber 2020 - July 2021 and back again to a presidential system but under a dictatorship. Now the country is under a transitional government. This has also contributed to the decline in Insaanistan. In a span of less than a year Mustafa Abu Jamal Soraya Khan Nura Khan and Asim Tamzali have been rulers of Insaanistan. Two are dead and the other two are missing. Even parliament has resulted into a Battle Royale between the political system making legislature impossible to do. The lack of a functioning or even sane government and a rapid fire succession of power within less than a year has severely damaged the nation.

Then there is the question of European Independence. To the casual observer the question of why a Pan Arab/Africanist nation want with Europe? Muslims used to rule parts of Europe and since Iberia and Italy during the 1960s were in a period of turmoil Insaanistan took advantage of reclaiming the lost Muslim hold on the region. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. In April 2021 Italy and Iberia declared independence and Insaanistan fought tooth and nail to keep it. The Jamesian Republic tried to stay neutral and tried to provide a voice of reason but ultimately it went nowhere just like the situation in Europe. Insaanistan due to the war has found itself plagued by extremism terrorism and ethnic tensions that make would make the former Yugoslavia blush. It seems in the eyes of Jamesia that the European War is one that cannot be won for Insaanistan and no amount of Jamesian help can change that. It even seems amongst the other nations involved in the war that even simply negotiating the end of the war ends up nowhere. This war has left Insaanistan in turmoil, two missing leaders, and a now defunct royal family.

In conclusion Insaanistan is now at a cross roads. With the royal family dead and gone, a government that is spinning out of control, ethnic tensions, terrorism/extremism and a war that has resulted in a stale mate which has left an uncertain and frightening future for both South Europe and Insaanistan. Will the situation result in Balkanization? Or maybe the government of Insaanistan take a moment and look inwards and realize that it is time to for dialogue and being frank and honest with itself and make a better brighter future.

“Mawt li Amarika!” shout protesters in Muslimbol and Cairo. Death to America! Many Insaanis saw the recent killings of Shiās as perpetrated by terrorists on behalf of the United States, and they were angry. For this first time, Shiās paraded themselves in the streets of Cairo, holding up banners with Shiā slogans on them. They were joined by Sunnis and even Cairo’s Christian community.
Stopping in front of the US embassy, they began beating their chests as two men stood in front of them, reciting a Persian Noha.
“Allah Allah! When is the dawn of victory?
When is the end to all misery?
The world is in passion and melody
Mankind is on the path of destruction
On one side, oppression is growing
On the other side, tragedy is blooming”
They ended, their hands in the air, crying out in unison
“O Lord, where is Jesus, the world savior?”
They flew the flags of Iran and Insaanistan, while burning American flags. But surprisingly, they made no attempt to storm the embassy.

---

Abdul-Ghaffar Yusuf was in a... complex situation. He was alarmed by the Insaanis protesting and burning flags, but they weren’t attacking them embassy, so legally, he could do nothing. I have to make sure, he thought to himself no one gets hurt as a result of this protest.
Insaanis were angry, but they were not expressing it as they had before.

[The Jamesian Republic]

“Mawt li Amarika!” shout protesters in Muslimbol and Cairo. Death to America! Many Insaanis saw the recent killings of Shiās as perpetrated by terrorists on behalf of the United States, and they were angry. For this first time, Shiās paraded themselves in the streets of Cairo, holding up banners with Shiā slogans on them. They were joined by Sunnis and even Cairo’s Christian community.
Stopping in front of the US embassy, they began beating their chests as two men stood in front of them, reciting a Persian Noha.
“Allah Allah! When is the dawn of victory?
When is the end to all misery?
The world is in passion and melody
Mankind is on the path of destruction
On one side, oppression is growing
On the other side, tragedy is blooming”
They ended, their hands in the air, crying out in unison
“O Lord, where is Jesus, the world savior?”
They flew the flags of Iran and Insaanistan, while burning American flags. But surprisingly, they made no attempt to storm the embassy.


Abdul-Ghaffar Yusuf was in a... complex situation. He was alarmed by the Insaanis protesting and burning flags, but they weren’t attacking them embassy, so legally, he could do nothing. I have to make sure, he thought to himself no one gets hurt as a result of this protest.
Insaanis were angry, but they were not expressing it as they had before.

The Jamesian Embassy a few blocks down was on lockdown. However the embassy employees got on the roof. The main ambassador spoke to the protesters down below:

“Citizens of Insaanistan step away from the United States embassy. It will do no good I tell you no good at all!” He shouted through a mega phone. Meanwhile The Jamesian Warp in Time was activated in case of possible evacuation.

[Insaanistan]

“Mawt li Amarika!” shout protesters in Muslimbol and Cairo. Death to America! Many Insaanis saw the recent killings of Shiās as perpetrated by terrorists on behalf of the United States, and they were angry. For this first time, Shiās paraded themselves in the streets of Cairo, holding up banners with Shiā slogans on them. They were joined by Sunnis and even Cairo’s Christian community.
Stopping in front of the US embassy, they began beating their chests as two men stood in front of them, reciting a Persian Noha.
“Allah Allah! When is the dawn of victory?
When is the end to all misery?
The world is in passion and melody
Mankind is on the path of destruction
On one side, oppression is growing
On the other side, tragedy is blooming”
They ended, their hands in the air, crying out in unison
“O Lord, where is Jesus, the world savior?”
They flew the flags of Iran and Insaanistan, while burning American flags. But surprisingly, they made no attempt to storm the embassy.


Abdul-Ghaffar Yusuf was in a... complex situation. He was alarmed by the Insaanis protesting and burning flags, but they weren’t attacking them embassy, so legally, he could do nothing. I have to make sure, he thought to himself no one gets hurt as a result of this protest.
Insaanis were angry, but they were not expressing it as they had before.

The Jamesian Embassy a few blocks down was on lockdown. However the embassy employees got on the roof. The main ambassador spoke to the protesters down below:

“Citizens of Insaanistan step away from the United States embassy. It will do no good I tell you no good at all!” He shouted through a mega phone. Meanwhile The Jamesian Warp in Time was activated in case of possible evacuation.

The protesters paid no heed. While eventually, they relented, all going back home, it was clear, the citizens of Insaanistan were in fact still divided on the issue of foreign policy.

---

“Salu fi biyatuuuum! Salu fi biyatuuuuuum!
Normally, the call of the muezzin would have been “Haya ala salah! Haya ala falah!” Come to prayer, come to good work.
However, this was different: now he called words that meant “Pray in your homes!”
Madinat al-Islam was experiencing a new wave of COVID infections. Now, everyone had to wear a mask, or alternatively, a niqab or turban. No one was happy about it, except Shaheeda, Muhammad, and Khadijah.
“This is great,” Shaheeda said. “Now, it’ll be harder for anyone to track us down. Hamdulillah.”
“Let’s hope this bloody virus doesn’t kill anyone else,” Muhammad added. They were sitting in Khadijah’s house, drinking chai masala and watching television. Their host, Khadijah, was with them as well, not much more recovered from her initial shock both at hearing of a massacre of the Royals and of seeing two of them alive and unscathed on her doorstep. However, soon, TRT news came on.
“Live from Istanbul, here are your top stories for the hour,” said the female announcer in Turkish.
“Damage from the fires in Southern Turkey and in several parts of the Balkans is being tended to, as the nations of Southern Europe attempt to rebuild. President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan is traveling to towns hit by the fires in order to give solace to the citizens.
Iran’s president, Ebrahim Raisi, is signaling a willingness to discuss the nuclear deal with the United States. US president Donald Trump withdrew from the deal during his administration, causing backlash from even his nation’s allies.
And in Madinat al-Islam, COVID infections are rising. Hatice Yusuf with the story.”
“Fatma,” the reporter said “We are live from Madinat al-Islam, where COVID is surging once again. The transitional government is pointing to a rise in entries from Afghanistan, Syria, and Insaanistan as part of the reason for the spread.”
“And what does Sharifistan’s government plan to do about it?”
“Well, they have said they intend to locate all those who have entered the country and make sure they are tested, as well as monitoring their movement in order to control the spread.”
Muhammad spat out his tea.
“They’re going to what?!” he cried.
“Don’t worrry,” Shaheeda said. “We didn’t technically enter legally, so they won’t know.”
“Shaheeda, that’s worse! When they do find out, we’ll be deported!”

[Insaanistan]

“Here you go, sir,” a secretary said, placing a file on Abdul-Ghaffar Yusuf’s desk.
“What is this?” he asked, barely looking up.
“Oh, it’s the amount of our troops left in Afghanistan, and authorization to withdraw them.”
Yusuf raised an eyebrow. “We don’t have any troops in Afghanistan. We never had.”
“Sir, I’m well aware that we have them, there’s no need to pretend.”
Now he sat up. “I’m not pretending anything. We just don’t have troops there.”
“What are you talking about? Surely you know…” Realization dawned on the secretary’s face. She raced out the door, dropping the files she had with her on the table.
“Where on earth are you going?” Yusuf called. Getting up, he raced after. She ran throughout the room of the palace before finally coming to a room. One next to the room where Nura had once accidentally been sent to Jamesia. She unlocked the door and told the President “This way, now!”
Confused, and even a bit frightened, Abdul-Ghaffar followed after her, down the stairs, into the dark, pitch black room. He heard a light switch flick. Cursing in Moroccan Arabic, his secretary then finally got the light to turn on. A large screen was across from him, a table placed in front of it.
“President Asim didn’t leave office under normal circumstances, so he never got to show you this,” she explained. Then, she grabbed a remote and pressed the on button. The selected the video and played it.

---

“Don’t ever get arrogant, o Sultan, for Allah is Greater!
You may sit now o Sultan! God bless the Sultan and our state!”
Mustafa Abu Jamal sat down atop the thrown in the hall Nura and Soraya had been coronated in. Lined on either side were his advisors and several generals, along with his secretary.
Mustafa looked out to all of them.
“Let us begin,” he started, “with a recitation of Surah al-Fatiha”.
The Muslims among his advisors and generals began reciting
“Praise be to God, Lord of the Universe
Most Gracious, Most Merciful
Master of the Day of Judgement
It is you who we worship and you we seek help from
Guide us to the Straight Path
The Path of those who you are pleased with, not of those you are displeased with, nor of those who have gone astray.
Amen.”
Finishing, they all turned to him, waiting for what he would say. He spoke again.
“Since the start of the war in Afghanistan, we have had advisors to the Afghan Army in the nation. They have done all permitted for them to do to defeat our enemy. These advisors we have kept secret from anyone outside the offices held by those in this room. No more. My predecessors sought only to advise, but that is not enough. The Taliban-i-Shaytan pose a constant threat to peace and prosperity to Muslims and non-Muslims alike. We must protect the lives of all, be they those who pray towards Makkah or not. That is why I have decided to act. In the name of Allah, most Gracious, most Merciful, I decree we shall send a contingency of troops to the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan. They shall be chosen from the best we have to offer, and InshâAllah, they shall bring peace to the land of Ariana.”
As he spoke, his advisors looked at one another. One, Ebrahim Pasha, spoke:
“Well, we will begin the selection process immediately, ya sultan.”
Mustafa looked at him. “I’ve already had them selected,” he said, motioning towards his cousin, General Mahmud Abu Jamal. Mahmud nodded in agreement.
“How many men?” asked an advisor, al-Emir Hassan Salameh.
“A few hundred,” Mustafa said. The advisors looked at each other then back at the President.
“Sir,” ventured el-Emir Muhammad Walid. “What good can a few hundred do?”
“Give me ten men,” Mustafa told him, “with fear of Allah in whatever form they see him, respect for human life, and loyalty to our State, and they will conquer China by His Mercy.”
Khalil Pasha was unconvinced. “This is too risky, ya sultan”.
Mustafa’s eyes were red for a moment before dying down. “I am Emir al-Mūmineen. People cannot suffer while I do nothing.”
“If we are discovered, people will criticize you for a secret war. We can’t send hundreds to die without anyone knowi-“
“And that will be all, Khalil Pasha!” Mustafa boomed. He stood up and walked down through the hall out the door.
The video ended.

[Insaanistan]

Qassim sighed. Well, if the Mosaratians wanted to investigate, why not? After all, their Royal Family was technically connected to the Insaani one.

Dear Mr. Najem,
The Mosaratian government is granted permission to investigate the matter that is the untimely death of the Royal Family. We thank the Mosaratian government for taking such a keen interest in this incident.

Respectfully,

Rep. Qassim Ali

“Good news we now have permission to investigate. I will tell the people back in Tasir to begin opening the investigation. We will need a warrant signed by both a Mosaratian and Insaani judge and then we can see if we can recover any information.” Farouk explained.

The Attorney General Halim Hafez of Mosarat submitted a warrant to the Mosaratian Supreme Court. The court signed the warrant and filed it on to the Insaani court so they could investigate the ruin.


Meanwhile in Carey Dowunda, one of the covenant houses in the city held a prayer vigil for the royal family. Nicholas Muller had held so much faith in Nura and now she was gone. The mission to save her failed. Now the entire family was dead or missing. Nicholas decided it was time to move on and let everything take its course.

The investigation had turned up nothing of value. No indication of who did it or how. Every time they thought they had a lead, it turned out to be a dead end. Davud was more and more anxious and more and more worried. Whoever killed his relatives were not ordinary citizens with guns, nor even your average soldier. It they had covered their tracks so well, their whole job was to kill, and their target had been the Royals.
His wife, Maryam, called him, like she did every night.
“Salaam Ālaykum,” she said.
“Walaikum salaam,” Davud answered, yawning.
“Habibi, I have news!” Maryam told him.
“What?” he asked.
“Je suis enceinte!” she cried.
Davud spat out his coffee. “Quoi?!”
“Oui, c’est vrai!”
Davud spoke in a low voice, “Don’t let anyone you don’t know know who I am, okay?”
“What? Why?” she inquired.
“He or she or whoever they are won’t be safe. The Royal line continues through us, and that is dangerous.”
“Davud, wh-“
“I’m going to sleep now, goodnight!” he said, hanging up.
He slumped in his chair and chugged his coffee before sleeping.
Such great news, he thought at such a bad time.

[The Jamesian Republic]

“Good news we now have permission to investigate. I will tell the people back in Tasir to begin opening the investigation. We will need a warrant signed by both a Mosaratian and Insaani judge and then we can see if we can recover any information.” Farouk explained.

The Attorney General Halim Hafez of Mosarat submitted a warrant to the Mosaratian Supreme Court. The court signed the warrant and filed it on to the Insaani court so they could investigate the ruin.


Meanwhile in Carey Dowunda, one of the covenant houses in the city held a prayer vigil for the royal family. Nicholas Muller had held so much faith in Nura and now she was gone. The mission to save her failed. Now the entire family was dead or missing. Nicholas decided it was time to move on and let everything take its course.

The investigation had turned up nothing of value. No indication of who did it or how. Every time they thought they had a lead, it turned out to be a dead end. Davud was more and more anxious and more and more worried. Whoever killed his relatives were not ordinary citizens with guns, nor even your average soldier. It they had covered their tracks so well, their whole job was to kill, and their target had been the Royals.
His wife, Maryam, called him, like she did every night.
“Salaam Ālaykum,” she said.
“Walaikum salaam,” Davud answered, yawning.
“Habibi, I have news!” Maryam told him.
“What?” he asked.
“Je suis enceinte!” she cried.
Davud spat out his coffee. “Quoi?!”
“Oui, c’est vrai!”
Davud spoke in a low voice, “Don’t let anyone you don’t know know who I am, okay?”
“What? Why?” she inquired.
“He or she or whoever they are won’t be safe. The Royal line continues through us, and that is dangerous.”
“Davud, wh-“
“I’m going to sleep now, goodnight!” he said, hanging up.
He slumped in his chair and chugged his coffee before sleeping.
Such great news, he thought at such a bad time.

Farouk decided to check in on Davud, the next morning. Since the search came up with nothing The Sultan asked Farouk how much longer Davud would stay at the embassy. He knocked on the door and entered.
“Davud, his majesty the Sultan wishes to know since the investigation resulted in nothing in particular how long you wish to remain at the Mosaratian embassy?” He asked. Farouk then noticed the expression on Davud’s face.

[Insaanistan]

“Marg bar Pakistan!”
“Pakistan Murdabad!”
“Mawt li Pakistan!”
No matter the language, the shout is the same: Death to Pakistan
Bearing pictures of both Ahmad Shah Massoud and Ahmad Massoud, Insaanis parade through the streets across the country, flying flags of the National Resistance Front: the biggest anti-Taliban force in Afghanistan. Insaanis have a special hatred towards the Taliban: when Mustafa was still president, the Taliban had launched attacks on the country, sometimes from within Insaanistan itself. Insaanistan had supported the Northern Alliance before: and Insaanis wanted to do that again.
Carrying pictures and effigies of Taliban and al-Qaeda leaders, they burn them in the streets, setting bonfires everywhere. Soldiers were supposed to be stationed around Pakistan’s embassy in Muslimbol. But there’s a problem: the soldiers don’t want to protect it.

Another crowd forms at the Afghan embassy. They call out to it to choose a side: the Taliban or the Resistance.
They wait outside it, watching to see if the Afghan tricolor of red, black and green will be replaced by a green, black and white tricolor, or a white flag with black letters on it.

[Insaanistan]

The investigation had turned up nothing of value. No indication of who did it or how. Every time they thought they had a lead, it turned out to be a dead end. Davud was more and more anxious and more and more worried. Whoever killed his relatives were not ordinary citizens with guns, nor even your average soldier. It they had covered their tracks so well, their whole job was to kill, and their target had been the Royals.
His wife, Maryam, called him, like she did every night.
“Salaam Ālaykum,” she said.
“Walaikum salaam,” Davud answered, yawning.
“Habibi, I have news!” Maryam told him.
“What?” he asked.
“Je suis enceinte!” she cried.
Davud spat out his coffee. “Quoi?!”
“Oui, c’est vrai!”
Davud spoke in a low voice, “Don’t let anyone you don’t know know who I am, okay?”
“What? Why?” she inquired.
“He or she or whoever they are won’t be safe. The Royal line continues through us, and that is dangerous.”
“Davud, wh-“
“I’m going to sleep now, goodnight!” he said, hanging up.
He slumped in his chair and chugged his coffee before sleeping.
Such great news, he thought at such a bad time.

Farouk decided to check in on Davud, the next morning. Since the search came up with nothing The Sultan asked Farouk how much longer Davud would stay at the embassy. He knocked on the door and entered.
“Davud, his majesty the Sultan wishes to know since the investigation resulted in nothing in particular how long you wish to remain at the Mosaratian embassy?” He asked. Farouk then noticed the expression on Davud’s face.

“I’ll be gone by the end of the week,” David told him. He hadn’t gone to sleep the night before, instead scrawled on a paper in front of him was a page of half legible words.
“I have to go as soon as possible,” he said. As he didn’t look up, it was unclear if he was talking to Farouk or himself.
“Time’s running out, and no one’s safe anymore.”

[The Jamesian Republic]

Farouk decided to check in on Davud, the next morning. Since the search came up with nothing The Sultan asked Farouk how much longer Davud would stay at the embassy. He knocked on the door and entered.
“Davud, his majesty the Sultan wishes to know since the investigation resulted in nothing in particular how long you wish to remain at the Mosaratian embassy?” He asked. Farouk then noticed the expression on Davud’s face.

“I’ll be gone by the end of the week,” David told him. He hadn’t gone to sleep the night before, instead scrawled on a paper in front of him was a page of half legible words.
“I have to go as soon as possible,” he said. As he didn’t look up, it was unclear if he was talking to Farouk or himself.
“Time’s running out, and no one’s safe anymore.”

“If you are worried about safety The Sultan has brought up the possibility of you and your wife living in Mosarat. It would be me much safer than Insaanistan and chances are no one will think to go to Mosarat.” Farouk said.

[Insaanistan]

“I’ll be gone by the end of the week,” David told him. He hadn’t gone to sleep the night before, instead scrawled on a paper in front of him was a page of half legible words.
“I have to go as soon as possible,” he said. As he didn’t look up, it was unclear if he was talking to Farouk or himself.
“Time’s running out, and no one’s safe anymore.”

“If you are worried about safety The Sultan has brought up the possibility of you and your wife living in Mosarat. It would be me much safer than Insaanistan and chances are no one will think to go to Mosarat.” Farouk said.

Davud began packing up what he had brought with him to Muslimbol. “Mosarat,” he mumbled. Then he paused. “Mosarat. Ay Khoda!” He looked at Farouk finally. “Tell Farhan he needs to double Farrah’s guards, she isn’t safe either. I’m going back to Paris immediately, and unless I sort this bloody mess out then by Allah above, I’ll never step foot in this country ever again.” As he grabbed his coat he recited duās, walking out the room provided to him and to into the hallway.
“Tawakal al-lillahi, la hawla wa la quwwata ila billah.”

[The Jamesian Republic]

“If you are worried about safety The Sultan has brought up the possibility of you and your wife living in Mosarat. It would be me much safer than Insaanistan and chances are no one will think to go to Mosarat.” Farouk said.

Davud began packing up what he had brought with him to Muslimbol. “Mosarat,” he mumbled. Then he paused. “Mosarat. Ay Khoda!” He looked at Farouk finally. “Tell Farhan he needs to double Farrah’s guards, she isn’t safe either. I’m going back to Paris immediately, and unless I sort this bloody mess out then by Allah above, I’ll never step foot in this country ever again.” As he grabbed his coat he recited duās, walking out the room provided to him and to into the hallway.
“Tawakal al-lillahi, la hawla wa la quwwata ila billah.”

“Goodbye.” Farouk said.

Meanwhile the ghost of Princess Fawzia the sister of The Sultan walks alone in the courtyard weeping. Farrah also in the courtyard hears the weeping. She sees the figure and tries to approach her. “Hello, are you alright?” she asks. But there is no answer from the figure. However she turns to Farrah and wails “Leave me.” and disappears into the air. Farrah is shocked by this and goes to her grandmother the Sultana Mother, Farhan’s mother. Her name is Ismailia. Ismailia has been in an wheel chair for 10 years now. She mostly stays in her room but comes out for meals. Farrah knocks on the door. “Come in.” she said. “Grandma, I need to tell you something.” Farrah said. “Yes child she is restless today. I don’t know why.” Ismailia said. “Who was she?” Farrah asked. “Your late Aunt Fawzia, Allah bless her soul. She has been confined to the palace never to know peace until the end of time.” “She killed herself right?” Farrah asked. “Yes she did.” Ismailia said. “She wants to be left alone for now. So don’t approach her.” The old woman added. Farrah left the room satisfied. “See you at dinner.” She added. Ismailia wheeled herself over to the window and sat watching for her daughter to appear.

[Insaanistan]

OOC: God, I forgot this even existed!

IC:
In Muslimbol and Muqdishu, several explosions rang out on Friday. The first blast occurred in Muslimbol during Jumāh prayer at a Shiā mosque. 56 were reported dead on the scene and 141 injured.
The second blast hit a police station in Muslimbol. This particular station was the one in most proximity to the mosque attack. Witnesses say the attackers drove towards the station in a pickup truck firing at officers while driving through a crowd of people crossing the street, before slamming into the building, the truck exploding upon impact. We have received reports of injuries but no casualty count has come out.

Muqdishu was hit as well by an attack on Camp TURKSOM, where armed gunmen fired on Turkish and Insaani troops staying there. The attack was repelled and the gunmen were apprehended. No casualties have yet been reported.

These fresh attacks come as al-Qaeda resurges in influence due to the Taliban seizure of most of Afghanistan, along with a rise in DAESH (ISIS) influence in Eastern Africa. In recent weeks, explosions & attacks were reported in the Republic of Congo and in Mozambique.

-Husayna Reza reporting

[New Antarcticania]

OOC: God, I forgot this even existed!

IC:
In Muslimbol and Muqdishu, several explosions rang out on Friday. The first blast occurred in Muslimbol during Jumāh prayer at a Shiā mosque. 56 were reported dead on the scene and 141 injured.
The second blast hit a police station in Muslimbol. This particular station was the one in most proximity to the mosque attack. Witnesses say the attackers drove towards the station in a pickup truck firing at officers while driving through a crowd of people crossing the street, before slamming into the building, the truck exploding upon impact. We have received reports of injuries but no casualty count has come out.

Muqdishu was hit as well by an attack on Camp TURKSOM, where armed gunmen fired on Turkish and Insaani troops staying there. The attack was repelled and the gunmen were apprehended. No casualties have yet been reported.

These fresh attacks come as al-Qaeda resurges in influence due to the Taliban seizure of most of Afghanistan, along with a rise in DAESH (ISIS) influence in Eastern Africa. In recent weeks, explosions & attacks were reported in the Republic of Congo and in Mozambique.

-Husayna Reza reporting

SLAM!
SLAM!
SLAM!
"SECURITY FORCES, HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!"
With a kick, the door of the house swings wide open, and sends a couple splinters to the Walls. Gunshots soon follow. And within a matter of minutes, the leader of the muslim opposition in the Sharfari Socalist republic, one Jalaal al-Greiss, and his affiliates - are dead. Shot to peices during a police raid on Jalaal's personal residence during a party.

To the populace of the The republic, this was almost no suprise, ever since the news of terrorist attacks from the Islamic state to the south. Socalist Sharfari officials have been stepping up their game in terms of security. "Night raids" have occured almost daily, always ending in the death of the perpetrator(s) in question, be it by suicide or by the End of an Operative's gun, no one was taken in alive.

Somewhere in the southern border, Sharfari socalist republic
21..

22...

23....
The soldier sat over a crate, situated besides his BTR-80, he was loading another magazine for his AK-12- if he was just a little higher, he could see his entire section of the border he's supposed to protect from the hill.

29...
30
He slaps the magazine into his rifle, and mounts the BTR as a commander.

Krachenko 1-1A
<<Leader to platoon, all ahead full.>>
The engine of the BTR spurs to life, and the vehicle - along with the convoy behind them, follows.

For the Sharfaris weren't going to wait around to be attacked by the jihadists to enter and rebels to escape they were going to make it an absolute nightmare for them to cross the border.