The Democratika RP Server

[The Worst Nation Possible]

OOC: 100th reply.

[Rostokia]

Zanderberg City, Rostokia

Zanderberg city. A bustling city home to Millions of Rostokian Citizens. Towering Skyscrapers overlook the mountainous regions next to the city. Music playing in the air, people commuting to work on the Public Transport systems. High School and Elementary School students are seen in their uniforms headed for school. A Few Army Jeeps and Trucks pass through the City. Being the largest, and most populous city in the Country, Law Enforcement units have a heavy presence, though crime still occurs with theft and scamming being the most common sort of crime. Police Drones hover over the large crowds of citizens walking the streets and major junctions, looking for anyone suspicious or in the wanted list.


Zanderberg City is the most advanced and popular city in the entire country with the Largest Active Airport in the country, Zanderberg International Airport. Most of the best shopping malls are located in Zanderberg City, with high-class branded items being commonplace in malls. Exotic Cars and pets are also seen. As the city flourished during the 1980s, there are still iconic landmarks from that era that still boasts a lasting popularity. Van Kleef Plaza, built in 1978 and completed in 1981, is still a very popular shopping center for tourists and locals alike. The National Bank of Rostokia is located here. The Business District is arguably the most busiest of them all in the Country. Officer Workers work their usual 5-9 routines daily. The Aerospace Museum of Rostokia is also located in Zanderberg City. A Few Natural landmarks include a hill that is located far away from the shopping and business districts, providing people with a feeling of peace from city life. At Night, the Shopping districts would light up with Neon Signs and Modern Light patterns. Night-Zanderberg is very popular with Citizens and Tourists as Bars and Pubs are usually open until the morning as there are actually no Curfews at night. However, around this time is where crime would be rampant, such as the aforementioned theft and scams that occur. Nevertheless, Zanderberg City is very popular and still is the Number One spot in Rostokia.


Since it is also it's own Political Entity, Zanderberg City also has their own Defence Forces called the "Zanderberg Defense Forces". As part of the Rostokian Defense Forces, they would be seen at the borders of the city, or even in the city patrolling. The Zanderberg Police Department would be responsible for the security needs of the city, deploying drones and plainclothes officers around the city especially at night. The Borders would Operate Around the clock, and visitors from Outside regions have to go through Security Checks to make sure that The City is safe. With the recent Insurgency in Northern Rostokia, both Police and Military Presence has increased.


Though it may look like so, Some of the Outer regions are unfortunately neglected. In West Rostokia, a small region simply known as "Baahtu" is nearly as the government does not have much police officers in the area. The Government is still trying to solve the issues between The Lower Income Citizens and The Medium/High Income Citizens since 1976. The Problem is still ongoing and the end seems to be further ahead.

The City of Salisbury however, is also a popular spot for both locals and tourists alike. Located in The State of Rhodesia, this city has a much more 80s-90s feeling to it as most buildings there were built in the 70s and 80s. Major Plans are made to clear land to make way for the contruction of more houses and skyscrapers in order to fully get rid of the slum problems in the nation.

[Amurria]

The first period: Political Science

Takeru arranged his books nicely, looking over at his classmates who were playing card games. He wasn't that open with people, but he had a few good friends in there. The bell rang, and soon their PS teacher came in. Miss Konstantinovna, an Amurrian citizen of Russian origins, born in Vladivostok in '95. She was offered by the Imperial Government to teach political science at one of the many high schools in Sapporo, the "Northern Capital", as it was nicknamed. She sat on her chair and looked at the students.
Today we'll talk about how the Empire's politics work. she said almost smiling. She waited for a chance to talk about Amurria, which was also the focus of her studies in Vladivostok. Does any of you know how the Empire is administrated?
A student raised his hand, then said Yes, the Empire is divided into Houses or Federal Regions. Both share a similar level of control, but the latter have more power nationally, while the former have more power in local affairs.
Good she said with a smile. But does anyone know what really unites the Empire? No? Well, if not for the state religion and a few well placed military bases in Hokkaido, Kyushu and Taiwan, Amurria would be divided.
She kept talking about the internal politics of the Empire until the bell rang again, meaning the end of class.

Takeru was once again arranging his books, he was looking at his phone, looking at the news of Jazado's mobilization. He was worried he might be taken into the army, Hokkaido was the Warrior House after all, and together with Kyoto managed the Imperial Army. And not joining the Army was seen as a disgrace to their ancestors. He knew that the Navy can stop any foreign invasion of mainland Amurria, but was worried about it's territories in Manchuria and Kamchatka. But he didn't give it much thought, he was still a high school student at a prestigious academy after all, the famed "Imperial Academy of Applied Sciences". He wanted to become an architect, already submitting designs to the Sapporo Local Government. The other periods went as fast as the breaks in-between them, and he kept getting more and more tired, until the final bell rang. Time to go home. he thought as he was waiting for his friends to finish putting their books in their lockers.

C'mon already, it's getting dark. Takeru said sighing.
Finally, done! Ready to go! said Shirou, his friend.
Hey, wait up! shouted Alexei jokingly while rushing to put his books in the locker. Although he was of Russian descent, born as the son of Russian immigrants in 2002, he was as Amurrian as any other kid at the school.
They left the school and began their long walk home, they stayed in the same area, not even 100 meter away from each other. They walked past the Imperial Harbor, where docked was an old battleship.
Hey, Shirou, Alexei, look! The IBS Fusou! he said as he poked them, as they were deep into a conversation about what they will be when they finish university.
It's a nice ship, but a bit old, ain't it? remarked the Russian, as he looked at the battleship. But from what I can see from here, they gave it torpedo launchers and guided missiles launchers.
That's the trend, the Empire hasn't built a battleship since the late '70s. Even those were more like missile launchers on a ship than a battleship. Where we really shine is the Art of War. said Shirou.
Y'all talking about war, but I want to become a worker in IT. It pays well, in the Empire at least, and I would also dream to visit Akarea. I heard it's nice down there. said Alexei. That reminds me, where do y'all want to go and what do you want to do when you finish university?
The front lines are calling me. After I finish studying I'll apply for the Imperial Army, and who knows, maybe I'll lead a charge against those commies in Jazado. They want a war, I'm sure of that! That's why I want to become a general, to be able to lead my soldiers to glory for the Empire! he said almost proudly, then proceeded to give us a military salute, which didn't last long until he burst out in laughter.
What about you, Takeru?
I want to become an architect. Once I finish my studies I'll apply for a spot at the Imperial Architectural Association, and maybe I'll visit Akarea, for their compact houses, New Karelograd, for their old Russian-style buildings, maybe the Byzantine Commune for their communist architecture. Takeru replied with interest.
Communists. Tch. How can they exist? asked Alexei almost ironically.
The Byzantines are better than Jazado either way. They rose against the Ottomans and regained their lands. Plus, they're a lot like a democracy. But the Empire is a good place to live anyway, and now that Hawaii is a part of it, we can go on holidays there. Think of the many girls we'll see there. replied Shirou jokingly. It soon began to rain.
We should rush home. said Takeru as he opened his umbrella.
Yeah. Let's go. the other two replied encore.
Each went to their homes, resting and preparing for the next day.

[Letskia]

The Northern Provinces of Letskia
City of Trondheim

Arne sat in his car as he drove down the snowy roads of Trondheim. As he looked outside his window, the thought occurred to him that he can't remember the last time it hadn't snowed in Letskia. The almost constant gloomy weather never particularly bothered Arne, he had been raised in conditions such as these his entire life and he could admit there was a certain charm to Letskia's snowy tundra and cloudy weather. The work day was over and rush hour had descended upon the city, notable by the increasing movement of cars and pedestrians on the streets and sidewalks. Arne wasn't somebody of typically high caste, but that idea of class borders was foreign in Letskia. They'd always been told the rich were never rich and the poor were never poor. Arne was a waiter at a local casual restaurant. The pay was impressively generous, most likely the result of the recent increase in minimum wage. As Arne drove his car down the street, he noticed a coffee shop from the corner of his eye and naturally made the blink-of-an-eye decision to stop by and chat with the locals. Letskians were very social and quick to befriend; it was a stereotype of Letskians with quite the hint of truth. Arne was never particularly social himself, but the climate had always found a way to get him talking. Nevertheless, he pulled into the parking lot and exited his vehicle, heading towards the entrance of the coffee shop. It was relatively packed, coffee and tea were the beverage of choice in the nation, particularly due to the constant chilly weather. Although, the occasional rum wouldn't hurt either, but Letskians were a fairly sober people. Arne had always deduced it had been due to the nation's long history of prohibition but Letskians had quickly taken to enjoying an alcoholic beverage once every blue moon. Arne ordered a cup of medium roast black coffee and a krumkake, taking note of the unfamiliar looking face of the individual at the register. She wasn't Letskian, that's for sure. Perhaps she was Akarese? Arne never paid much mind to race, he was raised to be compassionate and loving regardless of place of origin. He paid for his coffee and krumkake and sat by the counter awaiting his coffee and pastry. Looking around the shop, he'd taken note of the pale skin Letskians tended to bear. He was no exclusion, of course. Letskians were notoriously pale, but otherwise well-proportioned. Arne never got around much, only leaving Trondheim a handful of times during his youthful days as a student; typically on road trips and visits to see in-laws. Getting around in Letskia wasn't difficult nor expensive, thanks to the national government's generous budget for public transportation and infrastructure, but Arne never felt the need to travel. Letskians in general were not a people well-traveled, they preferred the warm and comforting feeling of home. Thinking of Letskia's towering mountains and deep fjords, the country never failed to provide a beautiful view.

He perked up as the cashier girl called his number and Arne stood to pick up his order. He gave the cashier girl a smile as he moved to the window seat overlooking the busy street beyond and set down his coffee and krumkake as he watched the proud people of Letskia laugh and smile in the flurry of snow. Before he could dig in to his meal, he was greeted by an older gentleman taking a seat beside him with a cup of tea. Arne turned to the elderly gentleman and gave him an acknowledging nod. He was a tall and burly man, and yet he gave off a strangely comforting and friendly vibe. Almost as if you could sit down with him and drink a cup of hot chocolate and talk about your problems. Letskians were deceivingly clever that way, they could make you spill the beans about virtually anything with only their imposing yet friendly stature.

"The name is Lief. You?" The man extended his hand towards Arne to shake, and Arne reciprocated. "Arne. Arne Johansen, that is. You come here often?"

"Only when I can barely see 10 feet in front of me. Nasty blizzard, eh? It makes driving quite the pain in the rear. Though, I haven't needed that in years." The old man let out a hearty laugh and sipped at his cup of tea, humorously shaking his head as he looked at the blizzard outside. Arne snorted, "I find it quite nice. I barely even feel the cold. It reminds me of home, you know?"

"Aye, you're a young man, Arne. I prefer the Danish regions myself, much warmer there. I'm actually visiting here from Copenhagen and I must say, Trondheim is a cold hell. No offense, that is." Lief affectionately shoved Arne in the back on of the shoulder whilst laughing. This was that overwhelming extroverted characteristic of the Letskian, though Danish Letskians were far more open than their northern cousins. Arne couldn't help but smile at the remark as he finally began at his krumkake. "I think every region of Letskia has its charm. Nothing beats the fjords, though."

"Aye, boy. I can agree with you on that one. Anyways, have you seen the news lately? Letskia is changing, they say those folks down in Karelograd have been pushing our buttons. Accusing us of espionage and the like." Arne recalled watching the live feed of Prime Minister Henrikson giving his speech about New Karelograd's imperialist aggression towards Letskia. He remembered feeling angry, albeit he claimed to not be the nationalist type, his reaction betrayed those words. He felt a sense of despair for his country's future; a nation historically peaceful and non-interventionist. "New Karelograd. I don't believe for a second what those dictators in New Karelograd say about Letskian spies and whatnot. It's just your run-of-the-mill tinpot dictatorship."

"Aye, they even claimed that Letskians were among the hordes of people chanting death to our country. Don't believe that for a second neither." Lief took a swig of his tea as he looked over at Arne, now lost in his own thoughts. Lief put his hand on Arne's shoulder and raised his cup. "To the Provinces," he said.

"To the Provinces," said Arne.

[New Karelograd]

Parade Square, Patriotic District, Karelograd


It was Igor Kivisto´s favorite day. It was snowing! He stood on the podium, watched by thousands who bundled up to see their monarch. He looked on, to see the proud flags of all his great allies in the distance, flying with New Karelograd´s own. He smiled at his onlookers.


¨Today marks a great turn in New Karelogradian History. As most of you know, today marks the day of the first recorded country in our area known as New Karelograd, the kingdom of Kutenyava, and I'd thought this was the time to announce a change in our flag. This new flag has a new coat of arms, and in a recent poll, was given the ok by most of you. Now here, is our grand flag!¨. The crowd looked over to the allies and co. flags as the old Karelogradian flag was taken down. It was replaced by a new flag. Jets flew past, streaming the colors of New Karelograd while people cheered in celebration. After it had died down, Igor Kivisto spoke again.


¨Now, we move on to a more.. harsh topic.¨

¨As you all know, we have amazing allies, but at the same time, we have enemies too. Like our northern brother, Letskia, who wishes we just leave this world.¨. Boos erupted from the crowd, loud as ever. Some were waving hate posters and propaganda against Letskia.

¨And one day, this great nation, which we and everyone who came before us worked so hard on, will be in danger. So promise me, my fellow citizens. I don´t care if you are Swietzian, Belarusian, Latvian, Lithuanian, Estonian, Karelian, Russian, Letskian, Siberian. Promise me that you will protect this land at all costs. Promise me you will fight with our allies. Promise me you will fight for the future of our country!¨. The Monarch took in a large breath and let out the famous war cry. ¨URAAAAA!¨. Everyone watching screamed, ¨URAAAAA!¨. KV-2´s fired off fake missiles into the air, causing light explosions above them. And Igor Kivisto knew that The Nation of New Karelograd will never stop fighting. Not until the very last inch will they surrender to anybody. For the Motherland!

[Montgomere]

"Men, send in the planes!" Says a commander of 600 thousand soldiers. "Yes sir!" They all reply, as they charge into the battlefield. Montgomere already secured 2 out of the 3 regions of Egypt that they wanted, just 1 1/2 months ago. "Sir, we almost got it all!" Says Randy, your minister of foreign affairs. "Good. This will show Egypt not to underestimate us." You respond.

"We pushed out 68% of all their forces. We will stop when we got the whole Egyptian coast, right?" Randy asks you. "That is truly right." You assure him. "Well, looky here!" Says Randy. "I just got a telegram from the ruler of Egypt. Said he surrenders." He continues. "Now, we can accept it, and take the three regions that border the Mediterranean, and Egypt got their mercy.

'Dear the ruler of Egypt, I accept your request of surrender. I will take the 3 regions that are bordering the Mediterranean, being that it is all I want. Thank you, Montgomere.' You write. 'Dear Montgomere, I accept your request for the 3 Mediterranean-coast regions. Now you have full control over those regions. Feel free to stabilize them. Sincerely, Egypt.'. The reply came in 2 days after written. "Good. I am glad he accepted. Now, to stabilize these regions." You say.

[Confedracy]

REDACTED LOCATION
Somewhere in the Byzantine Commune.
???? Local time
.
A man slunk over a terminal. His short black hair usually so neatly kept now fell in wads on his head. His startling dark brown eyes shone with a light of both brilliance and a tinge of madness. The long scar across his nose seemed to stand out against his pale complexion. It was said years ago he was handsome. His face wore the expression of an artist entranced with his own work. His movements fluid and graceful. Except for an odd twitch in his hands or head that sometimes overcame him. His dark leather jacket clung to him tightly in the cold dark room.

The notes on his computer read as follows

Humans have innate wonder, exploring many topics through experience and perception. From this wonder, individuals rationally reflects on their own experiences about a specific topic. Then the individual practices dialectics, examining what others have said about the topic being explored with the hopes of finding a particular knowledge about the topic. Theoretical psychology serves as the bridge between the philosophical roots of psychology and the present day empirical psychology. This bridge has an emphasis and focus on forming concepts from moments of explicit behavior that are observable, excluding introspective mental events within individual consciousness. Psychological laws are created from these observable behaviors that are derived from one concept that also contain concepts from the individual’s environment of internal physiological states. These laws are categorized into causal (statistical) or deterministic/mechanistic (nonstatistical) categories which relate simultaneous parallel traits or predict future from present or past respectively. Then these laws are organized into theories based on connections logically deduced together and open to new laws yet to be discovered or empirically verified. The ultimate and logically possible goal of theoretical psychology is to create an exact and comprehensive psychological theory. However, the concepts that are immediately observable are still abstract and difficult to define even in a basic law in an important solid theory as they relate to no physical object we can make sense of or interact with using our sensorium and empirical approaches. They are not instantiated in the world and in virtue of this they are called theoretical concept. Evolutionary biology has been the subject of extensive mathematical theorizing. The traditional approach in this area, which includes complications from genetics, is population genetics. Most population geneticists consider the appearance of new alleles by mutation, the appearance of new genotypes by recombination, and changes in the frequencies of existing alleles and genotypes at a small number of gene loci. When infinitesimal effects at a large number of gene loci are considered, together with the assumption of linkage equilibrium or quasi-linkage equilibrium, one derives quantitative genetics.. Population dynamics overlap with another active area of research in mathematical biology: mathematical epidemiology, the study of infectious disease affecting populations. Various models of the spread of infections have been proposed and analyzed, and provide important results that may be applied to health policy decisions.

A young man stepped in. Visibly shaking
"Dr.....Dr Diels?"
"Oh für die Liebe von was ist es Dummkopf?" Diels eyes now locked on to the mans. An angry glare breaking against the poor assistant.
"There are officers here sir....from The Φύλακες εργαζομένων..."
A couple of men armed with assault rifles pushed past him and stood before Diels. Who smiled coldly at them as he cleared his throat
"And just what can I do for you fine Gentlemen today?"

[Camokare]

"Ugh, these rebels want my american soil to go to the american countries.." you groan. "Maybe I should cede this land to them.." you say, as an army of representatives barge through your door. "We have ideas!" they all shout. "Okay, one by one, everyone." you say. "So, we are not asking for you to cede ALL of your land, we just want you to give up your american soil." one Emeritsian represenative says. "Anyone else have a different idea?" you ask to the crowd of represenatives. They all are quiet. "Well, that means that all of you have the same idea?" you say, eyes-wide-open. "Yes, we did sir. We all agreed on one idea." says a Montgomerean represenative. "What is that plan, though?" you ask, as you press your hand lightly on the table that you are sitting at. "We all agreed that you cede south and west Wyoming to Montgomere, Colorado to Montgomere, New Mexico to Sudardes, Montana and north-eastern Wyoming to Emerits." one Sudardes represenative explains. "Okay, now I get it. I guess i will hold a referendum on it." you say. The next day, the votes come in.

Yes- 68%
No- 21%
I Don't Know-9%

"Well, I guess i will do it, then." you say, as the same represenatives rush through, asking about the votes. "Chill! I got the votes! I will do it, because 68% want it." you say, as many represenatives throw up their arms in success. "Now, i'm going to telegram the king of Montgomere, the ruler of Sudardes, and the president of Emerits, to tell them to stablize the parts they claim." you say, as you type telegrams to the 3. "And there." you finish, as you click send. "Now, Montgomere, Sudardes and Emerits will know that the land belongs to them." you say. Later, you look at rebel growth, and you see there are significantly less rebels than before. "Great! It Worked!" you applaud. 2 days later, you get a response from all 3 countries, saying they all accept it. "Now, it is a win-win!" you exclaim. And before you know it, there are barely any rebels in your country.

[Chavakia]

Addis Ababa, Ethiopia:



Flags and celebrations graced the streets of Addis Ababa this morning, with citizens expressing their immense joy and enthusiasm with what the new day brought before them. Ajani Tasifa, "the people's candidate," was appointed to serve as Prime Minister, the highest position of his native land. Not too long ago, his predecessor had resigned, after the country saw growing indications of anger and frustration throughout all of its provinces, in light of the current situation of uncertainty and instability in the realm of politics. He was the first head-of-government to have done so in recent history, highlighting the dire need for change in parliament, and change there was indeed, with the young politician of 42 who is now to be addressed as His Excellency by his companions.

The overwhelming fame and support that flanked Tasifa was by no means a surprise. As early as 2015, Tasifa had indeed already served in crucial roles, which sought to bring about peace and development to the country. He was a key figure in the inter-religious dialogues that took place between the two main faiths which guided Ethiopia and her morals, while at the same time gave rise to the tensions that existed between neighbors. He demonstrated his care for his constituents as a member of the House of Peoples' Representatives through his staunch opposition of the land-grabbing that had plagued the nation, including his own province, for quite some time. However, it was perhaps his advocacy for an Africa that is in solidarity with one another, an Africa that is united to move forward together and progress as brothers and sisters of the almighty continent that millions call home, that the people saw his patriotism and a revival of hope in the land.

2018 indeed marks a new era for Ethiopia. With a newly democratically-elected commander-in-chief now in Menelik Palace, nothing can get in the way of the massive amount of potential and ambitions that the land saw ripe. It is the beginning of something incredible and spectacular, right in the heart of Africa.

[Autonomous Prefecture of Hawaii]

Honolulu Harbor, Honolulu, Honolulu District, Imperial State of Hawaii, Empire of Amurria

The governor looked dumbfounded at the naval harbor, as the Imperial Navy's battleships were preparing to leave. Soon an Amurrian diplomat came besides him.
"The Imperial Navy is going back to Amurria. Due to rising international tensions, we are pulling our ships away from this island. We are not prepared for a war with Sudardes." Then, almost whispering he continued "That nation... using their influence to force smaller nations to bow to them. If not by our own hand, they will surely fall, destroyed by their own people."
"But what will happen to Hawaii."
"You will remain a part of the Empire, hopefully." The diplomat said sighing. "They propose it become a meeting place between nations and such bullshit. Like we don't have New Osaka for that. I'm sure as fucking hell they will occupy this island once the Imperial Navy fully leaves. Americans are not to be trusted, and you should know that the most, since you were conquered by them in the 1800s, despite their treaties in which they agreed to leave you alone."
The governor was looking at the setting sun, silently thinking about what the diplomat said.
"You know, the rising sun used to be, and still is, a symbol of the Empire. But the setting sun is, well, a symbol of defeat. While our stay in Hawaii wasn't long, we might have to leave it entirely. This whole "Co-Prosperity thing is going to shit. Minjok, one of the founding members, left the alliance just now. Anyway, until further notice, Hawaii is still part of the Empire." The diplomat soon left, leaving the island aboard the last battleship to leave the port.
His words made the governor think, what will really happen once Amurria pulls out of Hawaii, will there be peace, or more oppression by a nation worse than the Empire.
Looking into the horizon, he saw the last Amurrian battleships leave, going into the setting sun. What will this mean for Hawaii? No one knows.

[Amurria]

(OOC: until further negotiation, the last post is null and void)

[Montgomere]

"Men, hop into your ships!" says explorer Donald Winter, as they hop into their ships to go to west of the pacific. 10 days later, they hit land. "Yes!" Donald shouts, as they step foot on one island. Donald feels the warm and moist sand beneath him. "Men, keep going westward, northwestward, and southwestward, and use your portable signals to signal to me when you find land." Donald commands to 70 ships. Within 18 days, all of the islands in the west pacific have been found. "Good." Donald shouts through the signal phone. "Now, colonize those islands." Donald commands to all 70 ships. "Now, to get some more ships over here." Donald says, as he calls some more ships over. "Okay, and send. Now the motherland knows, and these islands will be colonized before you know it." He finished. He swipes his hand on the shiny steel side of his boat. The boat was reflecting the sunset, making it have bright colors of purple and pink, red and blue. Stars are scattered across the sky. Donald hops back into the boat, which was anchored onto the sand, to rest for the night. The next morning, Donald was accompanied by rows of shiny steel ships, all ready to colonize. Donald steps foot into the sand, to stick a Montgomere flag into the ground. "Boys, this is the part where we start to colonize. Here, we plan to make a city, behind where this flag is. Git got it good? Ok, good. Now let's get to work!"

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9 years later
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All the Oceania islands have been colonized, by Montgomere. "The best finds are The Pacific Islands and the Fiji Islands. And yes, I named them." Donald says to Eric Sherman, as they both are leaning against a wall of a wooden house made of solid hard wood, drinking green tea. By now, many of the islands have cities with skyscrapers and flags standing proud and Montgomere is about to fully annex the islands. These discoveries suprised you. "Wow, we are actually going to be a triple-continent nation!" you say, satisfied with everything. "I swear with all my heart, promise till i die, that i won't expand after these islands are colonized. I dont want my nation to seem like a threat." you pledge. "These islands will boost up my economy well, and after knowing i am about to own these islands, i feel like i dont need to expand anymore. After this, im going to be a helping, nice guy who owns a kind nation, which would help any other nation!" you exclaim, hitting your fist on the table.
"I am excited too, but we need to chill out-" Your minister of foreign affairs says, as his phone rings before he finishes. "Uh, yes?" your MFA says into the phone. The phone has a shiny, reflective surface, just like a mirror. You analyze the details on his phone until A voice rings out. "Sir, we did it! We colonized all of them!" Donald rings out, with a loud voice, of course. "Well, guess i'm wrong, sir." your MFA tells you. "They are all colonized!" "Hurrah!" "HURRAH!!" everyone in the room keeps shouting, until someone in the next building screams "Can you quiet DOWN?! I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!"

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The Next Day
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Donald looks up proudly at the skyscraper. 101 floors of marble, shiny and stable. Windows that look out to the horizon. An observation tower that stands tall and proud on top of the tip of the skyscraper. The tropical and futuristic looks of the islands welcome every single visitor and tourist with glee. Donald stands in the elevator, waiting. He is counting all the buttons, as he holds his black case, shiny and solid, filled with papers proposing to establish an airport next to the skyscraper. Donald reaches floor 86. He walks up to you. "Greetings, Sir, glad to see you here on this occasion." Donald greets you, as he opens his black case and pulls out the paperwork. "So, I was thinking, that we could establish an airport here, because we have a lot of tourists and businessmen who visit these islands a lot. Since these are the main islands, aka| The Fiji islands, we do the airport here, and anyone visiting other islands can take a helicopter over." Donald explains, sipping a Cappuccino out of a clear, white glass with the Montgomere flag on it. "So, how much do you think it will cost us to build this airport, and how much per 10 KM in a helicopter?" you ask. "I estimated around 1 million and 500 thousand for the airport, and 500 more thousand for the planes. It will be a really large airport, though, and 10 km in a helicopter would be about $125 total." Donald says, as he puts a few stacks of paper away. "And this will be a government-owned airport, so the money won't be a problem, right?" you ask Donald, pressing your finger in the birch wood table that your sitting at. "Right, so the money won't be a problem, and we can make seafood restaurants in it, and gourmet, because those are natural resources here on the islands. And we already have major cities here, so there would be tourist attractions, and the economy and market will skyrocket! The government would have enough money to buy every single person in the Democratika 50 lamps!" Donald exclaims. " Okay, great! We can start building the airport in a few days, and I just need the blueprint." you tell him. After Donald gives you the airport blueprint, you motion him to stand up, and you shake his hand, lightly. "It was great to meet you in person, sir!" Donald says, happily, as he gets up from the shiny wooden chair he sat in. "It was an honor to meet an actual explorer." you tell Donald, as you start to make your way towards the coffee station. "See you in a bit, sir!" Donald waves goodbye. "Bye, Donald!" you wave back. You start to make your coffee, a americano, with decaf and a mocha shot. You drink your coffee happily, knowing that a new era has begun for the Montgomerean people.

[Slane]

On June 8, 2018, Emperor Alexander I von Habsburg, First of his name, Archduke of Austria, King of Hungary, Prince-Elector of Bohemia, Duke of Croatia, and Duke of Bosnia held his very first, but first of many of his famous speech of his reign in front of thousands of Austrians. It would be one that would resonate for the next decades.

"Brüder und Schwestern, Söhne und Töchter unseres geliebten Reiches, freut euch! Denn heute kennzeichnet die Vereinigung unserer großen Nation, einer Nation, die sich seit drei Jahrhunderten bewährt hat!

Von der Vereinigung des Königreichs Ungarn und des Kurfürstentums Böhmen mit Österreich unter habsburgischer Herrschaft bis zu den Eroberungen der Nationen entlang der Adriaküste. Wir stehen groß und stolz! Wir haben die ungeschickten Italiener aus Istrien und Südtirol zurückgeschlagen. Wir haben die törichten Russen abgestoßen, die dachten, sie könnten über die Karpaten- und Siebenbürger Berge bis in unsere Heimat marschieren. Wir haben die Türken aus dem Balkan vertrieben und mussten uns über die Bosporus-Gerade zurückziehen. Unsere Armee ist bereit, jede Bedrohung zu ersetzen, die die Flamme in den Herzen unseres Volkes auslöschen könnte und die Häuser und Leben zerstören und zerstören könnte, die wir seit Jahrhunderten gebaut haben. Wir gehören zu einer der größten Zivilisationen der Welt!

Wir haben unsere Kultur, die Wissenschaften und die Wirtschaft in dieser Welt zu einer großen Pracht gebracht. Von Sigmund Freud Erwin Schrödinger bis zu Johann Strauss und Mozart, unsere Erfolge prägen alle anderen aus!

Treue und geliebte Menschen, denken Sie daran, wofür Ihre Vorfahren gekämpft haben. Schätzen Sie Ihre wohlverdiente Freiheit und bringen Sie den Österreich-Ungarn in ein neues goldenes Zeitalter!

("Brothers and sisters, sons and daughters of our beloved Empire, rejoice! For today marks the unification of our great nation, a nation that has stood the test of time for three centuries!

From the unification of the Kingdom Hungary and the Electorate of Bohemia with Austria under Habsburg rule, to the conquests of the nations along the Adriatic coast. We stand tall and proud!

 We have fought back the clumsy Italians from Istria, and South Tyrol. We have repelled the foolish Russians who thought they could march over the Carpathian and Transylvanian Mountain ranges right into our homeland. We have ousted the Turks from the Balkans and forced to retreat across the Straight of Bosporus. Our army stands ready to replace any threat that may threaten to extinguish the flame in our people’s hearts, that may threaten to destroy and annihilate the very houses and lives we’ve built for centuries. We stand amongst one of the greatest civilisations of the world!

We have brought our culture, the sciences, and economics into a grand magnificence in this world. From Sigmund Freud Erwin Schrödinger to Johann Strauss and Mozart, our triumphs stamp out all others!

Loyal and beloved people, remember what your forefathers have fought for. Cherish your well-earned freedom and bring the Austro-Hungarian into a new golden age!")

The people stomped up a storm and chanted a cheer in unison: “Gegrüßt den Kaiser!” (Hail the Kaiser!). With a gleeful heart, and a strong resolve, the Austrian, Hungarian, Czech, Slovakian, Slovenian, Croatian, and Bosnian people would give their all to grow this already powerful Empire into more glory and prestige. Thus, this would mark the beginning of a golden age of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

[Saint Ryvern]

Baze University,
Abuja, Saint Ryvern
Local Time- 8:11 pm

There was a persistent soft murmur that filled the air in the Darra Clay Memorial Library at Baze University. It did not irritate the workers, most of them were university students who helped their peers find books or restocked shelves for a little extra spending money; it slightly perturbed the librarians, but no matter how many glares they dispersed the murmur always hung in the air. Two of the five floors of the library permitted speaking at a conversational volume. Long wooden tables occupied the center space on all these floors, with shelves lining the walls and computers at stations further back. The other three floors were labyrinths of books that would leave Theseus baffled and make Borges blush. Shelves were aligned in such a way that made navigating them require a map, now a feature included on the university's app that baffled students could regularly access on their smartphones. No one, not even the oldest and crankiest librarians, knew why the designers of the library chose to organize their shelves in such a mysterious and random style. No discernible pattern existed in the straight, but sometimes curved, shelves: early European literature intersected with genetics, economics with chemistry, biographies of Ryvernian leaders sat perpendicular to studies examining fictional cookbooks and what their recipes reflect about the societies they attempt to reflect.

Several decades ago, alumni frequently petitioned the university to bring some sort of order to the library, but students and faculty alike always protested these demands heavily. Everyone appreciated the chaotic intellectual atmosphere of the upper three levels of the library, at least those students who took the time to experience it firsthand. Professors at Baze University were highly regarded for their ability to reference and comment on multiple fields in their publications, something many indirectly credited to the "structure" of the library in which they did the majority of their research. Collaboration is a trait that is appreciated among the Ryvernian people, particularly the individuals who laid the groundwork for the library at the center of Baze. Designing a library in such a way that draws people from different fields of study and interest in close proximity to each other was meant to reflect this innately Ryvernian value. Residents of the African nation are conversational with strangers, to say the least, and many times have individuals in the maze of shelves at the library grown intellectually because of whispered conversations they have struck up with their fellow scholars.

Mohammed Bello met several of his closest acquaintances while searching the shelves two, three, and four stories above his head. His friends called him "Mo," and the fourth year social work student appreciated the nickname. Though Saint Ryvern was a progressive nation, Mo hailed from the more conservative northern region of the nation, where his parents held him to a high academic, physical, and religious standard. He had never had a nickname before his third year at Baze, when Olo, an economics student he met among the shelves, deigned him "Mo," and he was henceforth known as such colloquially. Oftentimes, when his nickname was spoken in slurred language or gasped he wondered what his parents would think of him, but Abuja was far from his rural provincial town.

Descended from a long line of proud, devout Muslims, Mo shocked his parents and earned their distaste when he left their small town, with its rustic mosque and bucolic air, for the shining, modern city of Abuja and Baze University. As a middle son, he never received the attention his older brothers did, but he was expected to follow in the tradition of Bello middle children and pursue a religious education. His parents kept his mind sharp with frequent study, and he had the majority of the Koran memorized before he turned 13. When he graduated from secondary school he was expected to use his government allocated scholarship, something every student in Saint Ryvern received at varying levels based on their achievement at the secondary level, though it would always to enough to attend at least a trade school, to become an imam. Instead, he fled. He fled to the south, to a university and city he only knew about because he had watched the ceremony in which its library was renamed for the country's Chief Justice, Darra Clay.

Mo did not often speak about his home. He tried to find other things to talk about when his friends brought up their lives at home, many of them were southerners or from the central strip of Saint Ryvern, few of them could sympathize with his upbringing. Today, as he sat at one of the long, storied tables on the lowest level of the library, scanning over a collection of Ogunbawale's poems, he rolled his eyes and attempted to shut out the jests of his friends. They were a diverse crowd in many ways. Academically: social work, economics, chemistry, literature, education, political science. Socially, Saint Ryvern was a very even nation, but those with more money did exist thanks to personal achievement and luck, and people from across the spectrum of wealth were represented in Mo's group. Ethnically: black Ryvernians, European Ryvernians, a Byzantian, an Akarean. There was no such diversity in the northern reaches of the country, but the universities of the nation were breeding grounds for it.

"Fellas, there's no need to waste any more time in this library. Trust me, all our papers are immaculate, all of our minds sharpened for any impending exams, there's nothing more we can do that would improve our academic standing at the moment. Let's leave, the city is alive today," Ciros, his smooth-talking Byzantian friend, had stood up at the end of their table, his proclamation ringing in Mo's ears. Some of his friends perked up, the others rolled their eyes. At nearby tables girls gave exasperated sighs and a faraway librarian glanced up, peering over her reading glasses, sensing a potential disturbance to the relative peace of her floor.

Some quipped back at him, he responded, the group chuckled and after several more moments of whispered debate everyone was shutting down their laptops, dog-earring their page, and loading up their book bags. It was a collective decision, Mo was certainly on-board for ditching his poetry collection. Ogunbawale attempted to capture the beauty of the everyday Ryvernian, sitting in a library wasn't going to increase his comprehension of her work. As the group left the library they shuffled through the bottom floor, a social space designed to give university students a comfortable area to relax. It was complete with a coffee shop, shelves lined with more contemporary novels, and an area full of TVs. Moving past the TV section Mo's eye was caught by the nightly news program, Our Nation with Oluremi Ade, who happened to be interviewing President Azebry about his recent visit with Letskian officials and other governmental affairs.

---

"...regarding the state of international affairs in Europe, particularly Eastern Europe?" Ade asked, inquiring about the state of affairs with New Karelograd.

"Well, it's a complicated question, and I cannot give a simple answer for that reason. New Karelograd is not a nation Saint Ryvern wants to associate with, as you can see in the government's travel recommendation. Interacting with such a nation requires precision and collaboration with regional forces like-"

"Like Letskia?" Ade interrupted, the President doesn't seem to care. He has appeared on Our Nation at least 30 times, he has a good relationship with the interviewer; they send each other Christmas cards every year.

"Yes, Remi, like Letskia. Our Scandinavian allies have similar interests and concerns; both of our great nations think along the same line. We believe that everyone should be entitled to similar rights, and that certain nations in the world oppose our views in unacceptable ways."

"Nations like New Karelograd and Amurria..."

"Yes, the latter in a more subtle way, their style of imperialism presents a quiet danger to international peace. The former in a more dangerous way-" President Azebry is known to soliloquize given the opportunity, it was part of the reason his chief of staff appreciated Ade, she knew when to cut him off.

"If I may inquire, Mr. President, why are the armed forces training? It isn't their usual time of year to-"

---

"Guys! Are we going or not? We can watch the interview if you want, but can we sit down if we're going to?" Ciros tapped Mo on the shoulder. A few of the Ryvernians in the group had paused to watch their president. Mo had not voted in the 2015 election, his birthday made him ineligible to vote by a few weeks, but he was in favor of the young leader's stance regarding many issues. Many of his friends in high school voted for the more conservative candidates, but in university Mo associated with people who voted for Chinua, or swore they would have given the chance.

"We can go, I don't need to see any more of it. I'll read some articles later to find out what he's saying, it's almost the end of the interview anyways..." Mo conceded to his friends, staring back at the TV but following the group of eight rowdy university-aged boys out of the library. Book bags slung across their backs they made their way towards Fourth Street, the area of downtown lined with bars and clubs frequented by students at the several institutions in higher learning in Abuja. The night was electric, there was a concert in town, a budding hip-hop artist who had packed the arena where the University of Abuja's basketball team plays. The faint noise from the arena, several blocks away, could be heard as one exited the library. As the group moved across the small park in front of the library, cutting through hedges, but avoiding the flower patches, Mo took a moment to glance around.

The streets of Abuja, minus a few laid out before the city showed promise as a budding commercial area, were designed in a grid pattern and numbered accordingly. Strips of pavement cut across the land, bisecting the urban landscape into comprehensible districts. Crime reports were categorized by blocks, directions were given based on corners ("turn left at the intersection of 8th and 17th!"), people knew where it was safe to walk at night based on the block. Unlike the library Mo had just departed streets were not randomly smashed together, they did not stop suddenly or present unexpected twists or turns. However, there was an intersection of ideas: theaters stood opposite bakeries, research labs sat kitty-corner fast food joints, concert halls shared a wall with tattoo parlors. Abuja may be a university town, but it represented an image of Saint Ryvern, an image of the growing nation that served as the stereotype in many minds.

Laughing as they moved along, the boys made their way past a tattoo parlor, hunting for a dive bar that wouldn't card everyone, several of the boys were not old enough to drink in Saint Ryvern. Eventually, they found a dive bar, seeking to waste the night away drowned in the laughter of friends, buoyed by the age old facilitator of conversation: alcohol. They did not intend to drink heavily, but that was never their intention. The bar served as a practical spot, with many Ryvernian girls and many international students choosing to spend their hard-earned dimes there. A girl, seemingly a Letskian, winked at Mo as his group entered, but by the time he reached the bar and turned to approach her she had left. Above the bar, a row of TVs flashed their messages and subtitles onto the vibrant eyes and faces of the university-age crowd: entertainment, sports, and news. Mo glanced up, the late night local news recapping President Azebry's interview on Our Nation.

---

"The President sent a strong message tonight, a message to our nation and to the world. That message is that Saint Ryvern is not alone. We have allies, there are nations in the world who agree with us ideologically and who will stand with us. These bonds go beyond the economic bonds our great nation has with nations like Akarea, but rest on a more moral understanding. The recent state visit with Letskia helped our nation find a like-minded ally. Our President and their Chancellor had a successful meeting recently, helping begin what should be a mutually beneficial relationship, as President Azebry voiced repeatedly affirmed throughout the interview. It was a strong performance by the young leader, but the head of state seemed taken aback when Ade confronted him about the recent increase in military training. He assured the nation that the recent burst in military exercises and preparedness training, which has included the navy practicing maritime maneuvers, do not mean that the nation is moving closer to a state of war. I quote the President stating, 'our armed forces have long defended our nation, they have long protected our national interests and secured the standing of Saint Ryvern locally and around the globe. I have not forgotten our military's purpose, and I urge the nation to do the same.' Interesting comments indeed, but repeated assurance from many officials about the safety of the nation bodes well.

"That's all for international politics right now. Now we move on to Bodi with an heartwarming case about a local baker and a couple that entered his store one day..."

[Minjok]

"Yes, Yes. Ok. Thank you and good luck." concluded Mr. Kim as he put down his phone.

It was a cold and snowy Sunday as he stood next to the window, he was greeted with white snow everywhere. The heater was on keeping the people inside the Blue House warm. Mr. Kim then walked to his desk wearing his black trench coat paired with black gloves. He sat down on his red chair and got out a piece of paper. He thought about it, then wrote. A deafening silence filled the entire room as he concentrated on writing the paper. After what felt like an hour for Mr. Kim, he was done. This would be the most hardest task he had ever done. He stamped the paper with the official insignia, folded it, and slowly insert it in a envelope. Most government officials and their citizens supported this decision as it would benefit the nation and them. With that, he sighed and walked out with the envelop in hand.

As he walked down the long hallway, he thought to himself what would the nations of the world think of it. Would they think of this decision as a threat or a welcome it with open arms. He was the one who suggested it and thinking that idea would be surely rejected. To his surprise, the idea was very popular among people. Rich or poor, Important or not, Young or Old, they all supported this idea. The sound of Mr. Kim's boots hitting the floor echoed through out the hallway. He soon reached his destined target. Mr. Kim walked up to the quiet, yet beautiful young woman. The woman was dressed in a blue camouflage jacket paired with a skirt. She had a pistol is her hand when she saluted him. Mr. Kim saluted her back and asked.

"Well, aren't you cold. Even with the heater on, it's still mildly cold." Mr. Kim nonchalantly asked.
"I am OK sir. " replied the young women. She looked down and asked.
"Sir, are you sure you want to go ahead with this?"
"Yes. This will helpfully make it easier defend our self better." answered Mr. Kim
With that, Mr. Kim gave her the envelope and walked back to his office.

The cold stingy wind blew on the guards standing in front of the Blue House. Distant sounds of cars could be hear in the background. The ground was covered in white soft snow and the trees that was once green now were brown. Naked you could call it. There in the office, Mr. Kim stood to watch the snow fall. With only himself to comfort.

[Chavakia]

Menelik Palace, Addis Ababa:

It was Prime Minister Ajani Tasifa's first month in office. The swearing-in went smoothly a few weeks back, in the sense that there was no specific opposition against him besides the opposition parties themselves, for it was their job to do so. As the head-of-government of Ethiopia, he was made the head of his own party as well, the Oromo Democratic Party, which has the most seats in parliament. He was inaugurated to the sounds of cheers and applause from the parliamentarians in the chamber, as well as from the public, viewing history being made on a gigantic screen outside the premises of the building. Tasifa gave a rousing speech, calling for greater unity and peace not only in Ethiopia, but in Africa as well. It is this particular point which is now being discussed and given emphasis at his first cabinet meeting in his residence.

"I would like to see Africa grow, not as separate different countries with solely national purposes and interests, but as a community united with the collective goal of fostering progress and development to all corners of our great continent. It is through being united that we are strengthened to better uphold the ideals of democracy, while also attaining the many goals that we have set for the betterment of our people. With this in mind, I would like to announce a rather bold proposal, which I hope that you will also support. On this day, I would like to formally announce my intent to pursue the establishment of what shall be known as the African Union, an international organization that will be composed of all the magnificent countries of Africa. Its main duties shall be to advocate for democracy, education and literacy, health, human rights, and peace for all Africans. It shall ensure that our continent can reach its greatest potential, and promote our values and principles on an international stage. Much is yet to be done, and I do hope that you can assist me in making this dream of mine and many others a reality."

As the Prime Minister ended his address to the government officials in the room, he was greeted with a standing ovation, and the declarations of approval and encouragement from his cabinet. He was immensely content that they were all on the same page with regards to the matter, and so proceeded to say that a formal announcement to the press will be made soon enough, leading them to discuss other issues and concerns of relevance affecting the country.

[Sudardes]

Reuben Lee, Elysium Suites, New Constantinople, Imperium of Sudardes, 1:23 AM, November 12th, 2018,
The impatient rapping at the door only grew louder as Lee rolled over in his bed. He had been dreaming about finally being able to afford a small piece of land down South, perhaps with a family he didn’t yet have. After a day of tending to his fields, he had decided to return to his study to read a book. Perhaps a biography of Constantine XI. Just as he was about to settle into his armchair by the fire, he was suddenly disturbed by a good for nothing neighbor. Rapping had now turned to hammering. Lee closed his eyes hard, trying to block out the incessant noise that stood between him and his land.

“Go away, I’m trying to sleep damn it!” He shouted, exasperatedly motioning towards the direction of the noise in the dark. Squinting, he could see the light coming in from under the doorway obstructed by two black opaque pillars.

“NOIA! Open up!” The hammering stopped as soon as the coarse voice fell silent. They knew he come now.

Lee heart dropped through the floor as he was viciously ripped out of his dream. Internal affairs, what were they doing here? He was immediately awake. Fumbling from his contorted pose of exhaustion he didn’t even bother putting on his slippers as he shuffled towards the door.

“I’m coming.” He called, flipping the light fixture on his way. The pale fluorescent lights sprang on with a barely audible humming and in tandem with the filthy white tiles of his apartment, seemed to Lee brighter than a thousand suns. The door was in front of him, the dark brown wood like a void in a suffocating ocean of white. With a click, he turned the lock but before he could even reach for the brass knob, the door was flung open from the other side with such force, Lee fell backwards onto his ass.

He saw himself reflected in the first pair of impeccably polished jackboots first, his face distorted in its inky blackness. Then he saw the rest of them. They wore brand new uniforms of brown cotton, the becoming costume of the paramilitary wing of Internal Affairs; on their caps and sleeves they wore their insignia: the eagle clutching the state fasci; in their free hand they carried compact submachine guns; their straps and trappings smelled of fresh leather. Behind them, Lee could see the frightened old porter who undoubtedly had led these men to his room, her frail frame seeming unusually small in comparison even with the thick winter coat thrown hastily over her shoulders. The officer that whose boots served as Lee’s mirror was blonde and young, his face cut by prominent cheekbones. He made a motion as if to reach for his sidearm but instead produced a thin piece of paper from his pocket.

“Are you Reuben Bartholomew Lee, born March twenty second, nineteen ninety two?” He dictated, not taking his eyes off the slip.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Lee got to his feet. They heard someone in an upper story pull the plug and the water rushing down evenly through the pipes. “What’s going on?” The officer looked away from the slip at Lee on the floor, and then gave a furtive nod the the two other men behind him who fanned out into Lee’s apartment without words.

“By the orders of the National Commissariat, you are under arrest.” The officer in front of him folded up the slip of paper and placed it back into his pocket.

“Me what for?” The lamblike bleat escaped Lee. He could hear the men ransacking the other rooms.

“It will be clarified at the Commisariat Station.” The officer replied.

Lee’s heart leapt into his throat. No one comes back from the station. A million nightmares flooded into his mind. Something must have shown on his face because the officer spoke again.
“Come now, I know what you’re thinking, and I can guarantee you none of it is true.”

“Should I pack anything?” Lee asked tentatively.

“No, they will clothe you there. But it is quite cold outside.” The officer lifted a jacket hanging adjacent to the door and tossed it at Lee. “Put this on and let’s go.”

Lee worked his arm into the sleeve. He gave a strained smile at the officer. The officer understood and said nothing. He waited until Lee had finished zipping up before roughly grabbing his arm and yanking him out into the corridor. As the two of them descended to the ground floor in the dingy elevator, he almost felt sorry for the man, his name appearing on a list of unfortunate souls. At the front door stood the truck, military issue adorned with the insignia of Internal Affairs. Its engine guttered and the headlights cast two penetrating beams deep into the night.

“Get in.” The officer led Lee around to the rear of the truck. “We have a few more people we need to pick up.”

The building was silent after the one shrill woman’s cry, but they had the feeling that all the inhabitants were awake in their beds, holding their breath.

---

Elizabeth Baxton, Central Government Complex, New Constantinople, Imperium of Sudardes, 10:30 AM, November 12th, 2018,

The Central Government Complex stood as a symbol of Sudardesian power. On days when the choking industrial clutter cleared enough for one to see across the bay, the building stood out from the others around it, shooting into the air straight and unwavering until it outstripped all the other skyscrapers around it, a monument to the Sudardesian will. A needle-like object cut the sky above the skyline; still holding the glow of the sunrise; the gold leaf had held onto those desperate rays. The glow was red and still, like the reflection of a fire: not an active fire, but a growing one which it is too late to stop. Mounted at the base of the spire was the most exclusive meeting room on earth, with a view that encompassed the industrial sprawl and unsleeping harbor that lay below until just beyond the horizon, one could catch the glimpse of sleepy green pastures in the North. More important still, this was the room where the future would be decided. Perhaps not now as it was once before so decisively done with a gunshot, but almost certainly in the very near future with pen and paper.

The President of Camokare stood where the Minister of Agriculture had crumpled so unceremoniously just a few weeks ago. Baxton stood next to him, forcing her winning politician smile as reporters snapped pictures of them shaking hands, her olive shoulder boards rubbing uncomfortably against his navy blue suit. Meaningless words like “mutual benefit” and “prosperity” fluttered out of her mouth as she assured the media that this was merely an agreement between neighbors. The President guffawed when asked about domestic instability down South.

“Perhaps our wonderful new ally Sudardes will be able to offer us a helping hand!” He gave a radiant smile, his teeth white like pearls. “The investment that the Southern provinces will receive from this deal would be hugely beneficial to our economy.”

“Absolutely,” Baxton motioned towards the ovular mahogany table. A piece of paper bound in a navy blue leather binder adorned with the Sudardesian Seal lay at the head. “We are committed to ensuring a strong and stable Camokare in the wake of this momentous occasion.”

She removed a pen from her breast pocket, and palmed delicately before the President snatched it out of her hand like an impatient child. He almost gave the impression that he wanted to sign away his American holdings as soon as possible. And who could blame him? The Northern states from Emeritis to Texas have been longing to secede since the unfortunate political disaster that led to the current division of North America. Plus, his government’s unpopular reforms had led his native South to take up arms in rebellion. At this point, only what seemed like an endless wave of Sudardesian capital could drown out the tide of revolution completely. Thus in one fell pen stroke, the President signed away half his country to maintain the security of the other half. Little did he know he would find himself hanging by the neck from the Presidential palace in less than a week, and indeed the tides of revolution would break once again against Sudardesian bedrock, rooted out by mass arrests and airstrikes. But that was not of concern for now.

---

Elizabeth Baxton, The Amurrian Embassy, New Constantinople, Imperium of Sudardes, 12:30 PM, November 12th, 2018,
The familiar voice of the city wide broadcast system reminded the populace politely that lunch was now over, and the afternoon shift was to begin in five minutes. The standard 45 minute lunch break was often more than enough time for the average citizen to pop by the cafeteria in their building or pay a visit to the local deli, and after a short but satisfying meal, they would return to their workplace and continue to do whatever it is that they were doing. Of course, none of this mandated by the state, unless of course you happened to work in one of the numerous parastatal institutions, the government, attended a public school, or worked in public services. It was simply, a reminder to the people about the sensitive nature of their place in society, each a cog in a well oiled machine playing a very specific role, and that, like cogs, they can easily be replaced.

Usually at this time, the deluge of workers would have returned from the Deli down on 22nd Street to resume their posts at the Amurrian embassy. A curt nod exchanged with the newspaper man on the corner in between bites of a ham and cheese panini. But today, they were carrying cardboard boxes to large vans parked outside the walls of the compound. That was where the press conference was to be held.

Baxton held her officers cap to her side as the convoy made its way towards the compound. The radiant sun beam penetrated the tinted glass and lit up her face from one side, illuminating the lines that came slowly with age, invisible to the casual observer. She watched as they sped past storefronts, restaurants, and dry cleaners. The financial district was saved momentarily from the mish mash of factories and mills, the streets maintained by automated sweepers, but most astonishingly, not a subby in sight. Perhaps the real reason why so many of the nations population of foreign diplomats was concentrated in these half dozen blocks was because of the lack of subby entrances, clear from the scum that lived just below the surface. The ugly and contemptible waste of Sudardesian society. She turned to face the two other men in the car. General of the armies Roger Patton sat directly across from her, next to him, Minister of Education Robert Mansfield.

“Are you sure we can do it?” Baxton asked. “I don’t want this to become a humiliation.”

“There is no doubt that the entire Hawaiian contingent can be wiped out in a single battle of annihilation with just two thirds of the Pacific fleet.” Patton answered curtly. He had reassured her numerous times already but no answer he gave seemed to satisfy her. “Within the next few hours, we will be within striking distance and you only need to give the order.”

“May I remind you that you will need to make an appeal to the international community for support, especially after your deal with Camokare.” Mansfield chimed in. He pulled out his tablet. “Non state outlets are already reporting on the deal but Hawaii still has the spotlight. It is crucial we exploit this opportunity to win hearts and minds.”

“I know.” Baxton returned to staring out the window. The convoy pulled into the handsome courtyard outside the Amurrian embassy. Up until this point, the declaration of persona non grata of the Amurrian diplomatic corp had seemed to her an obvious decision, but the seeds of doubt were beginning to take root. Maybe she acted too rashly? Perhaps she should have consulted her advisors? No,[i/] she thought to herself. [i]I won’t let that girl who held me back all those years hold me back at this moment of decision.

The large trucks of over two dozen local and international media outlets had already surrounded the raised podium adorn with the Sudardesian seal long before the convoy arrived. Around them, a sea of onlookers, eager to hear from their government about the recent political debacle over two thousand miles away in Amurria. Certainly such a blatant land grab would not be overlooked by the Imperium? Was this going to be a declaration of war? Baxton stepped out of the car dressed in full military officer's attire, with her medals pinned handsomely over her heart, complete with a peaked hat bearing the insignia of the Sudardesian National Marine Corp. Scattered applause sounded as she took to the stage. She walked up the podium, disdainfully gazing at the two dozen microphones in front of her. She hated the press, with their prying eyes always looking to bite off more than they can chew.

“My fellow Sudardesians, this morning, the Island nation of Hawaii was unexpectedly and deliberately attacked by the Empire of Amurria. These two nations were at peace, and it was previously agreed that the island nation will remain neutral in the Pacific.

Indeed, one hour into the coastal bombardment campaign by an assortment of twelve Yamato-class super battleships, the island nation was coerced into becoming a puppet regime of Amurria.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Amurria makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Amurrian government has deliberately sought to deceive the rest of the world by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

In the modern world, there is no place for such violations of international law and national sovereignty. As such, the nations of Sudardes, Emeritis, Sogai have entered into an International Defense Coalition as a deterrent against such unmitigated acts of aggression. Here, from one world leader to another, I implore the international community to denounce the actions taken by the Empire of Amurria and join myself in applying targeted economic sanctions on that menace in Asia.

And to the leaders of the Empire of Amurria, I have but one thing to say, leave Hawaii at once. The subjugation of an entire peoples for strategic control of the Pacific is an affront to world peace. As I speak, the fourth and fifth carrier strike force along with the forty second marine raiders approach Hawaii. They will remain vigilant and ready to fight. Emperor Yamato, I say this once. Let Hawaii go! If, by this time in forty eight hours, the Sudardesian government has not received confirmation of this action, then we shall not hold back in using military force to liberate the people of Hawaii from their Amurrian oppressors. With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph—so help us God."

---

Elizabeth Baxton, 17th Sudardesian Rifles, New England Provincial Occupation Zone, Imperium of Sudardes, 11:30 PM, January 6th, 1999

“Quickly, quietly.” Baxton adjusting the gas mask strapped to the dome of her helmet. The specialist kneeling before her lifted up the circular manhole cover, illuminated on one side by the neon sign hanging from the wall. “We want as many of them alive as possible. Engage only if they engage first.”

Firelight glinted off the shattered bottles that littered the street behind a phalanx of military police, desperately holding off a wave of protesters. She couldn’t see the riot from the alleyway, only the occasional man carried away on a stretcher, but the shouting and crashing was unmistakable.

She looked at the two dozen men before her, all in full jet black combat gear. She pulled the gas mask down. Her men followed suit. The mask covered the entire face, the visor, rectangular and opaque from the outside. Although the rebels were not known to deploy chemical weapons, two filters hung on either side of the masks just in case.

“Everybody check ammo,” She pulled the charging handle of her carbine. “There will be other friendlies as well in the sewers coming in from different entry points marked in green on your HUD.”`

A loud clang drew her attention back to the manhole.

“Ma’am, ready to deploy.” The specialist stood up.

“Be advised, are confirmed to be using satchel charges. If you see a package you can’t identify the rules of engagement this mission will leave the final decision up to you.”

Baxton walked towards the manhole.

“Fan out and don’t forget to check your corners.”

Unholstering her flashlight, she shone it in. The bright conical beam lighting up a small circle at the bottom of the ladder. It smelled like shit. She turned around one last time to look at her men, mounted the ladder, and disappeared underground.

[Amurria]

Asano Isuzu, Imperial Congress Building, Edo, Empire of Amurria, 14:00, 12th November 2018

Isuzu was walking down the long hallways of the Congress Building, built in '78 when the 1975 Constitution was finally enforced. It is the place where the leaders of Amurria's Federal Regions meet and discuss plans to better manage their territories, help their people, and in some cases, expand their infrastructure. She was thinking about the recent "invasion" of Hawaii, and what results it will bring, when a man dressed in black came to her.

"Prime Minister Asano? We need you for a state meeting."

"What happened?" she asked, thinking about the worst case scenario: a war.

"You'll see when we reach the meeting room." the man said as he began walking.

Isuzu followed him, and they soon entered a small corridor, one of the many maintenance hallways built alongside the main ones, but these ones had a secret. They led to secret government facilities. The two people entered an elevator, which took them to Floor -10, which has a whole legend surrounding it, being where true government decisions are made.

The prime minister sat down at the empty seat at the long, rectangular table. At it's head was the Emperor, on both sides were the Minister of Internal Affairs, the Minister of External Affairs, the Shogun, and the Chief of the Kenpetai, the secret police of the Empire, and at the other end was her. Seeing that everyone was present, Jax stood up, and with a calm voice said:

"Gentlemen, we have received a transmission from the Imperium of Sudardes, demanding us we leave Hawaii. As we speak, the Sudardesian Pacific Fleet is approaching the archipelago, and they have made it clear that if we do not leave, they will engage us. I ask you, my fellow Amurrians, what should we do?"

"Taking into account their military technology, they are a threat, which can deal considerable damage to our Hawaii Fleet. And since their leader is a madman, or madwoman, and the military is merged with the ruling, we cannot say any attempts at fighting back would work, at least not in the long run. Our navy is in a dire state, and we already have insurgents in Kamchatka and remote spots in Outer Manchuria." said the Shogun.

"All things considered, they have put us in the light of international attention, as they try to rally foreign nations to help them and sanction us. We need to strike them right back. Did we hurt any of the people of Hawaii? No. Did we oppress them? No." stated the MFA.

"The people of Hawaii are starting to feel uneasy too. With the Sudardesian Fleet approaching, they feel that a war will be fought on their land, and they fear that they will be oppressed. Just look at any Sudardesian city. All you can see is oppression and sadness. The people barely have any say in the affairs of the government." said the MIA almost pissed off.

"Well, what we do know about them is that there is a "rebellion" in New England. Should the need be, we can make contact with them and supply them with weapons. We can ignite a revolution in their country, all we need is good timing." replied the Kenpetai Chief.

Everyone's looks then fell upon Asano, she was following the conversation closely, but couldn't come with a proposal. Finally, after a few moments of thinking, she said:

"I suggest we agree to their demands. If not for our glory, at least for the survival of our people. Hawaii is a faraway island, almost isolated, yet in a strategic position. Losing it would mean it would be harder for us to expand our influence in the Pacific, but also would ensure the peace between us and Sudardes, be it short-lived, since I don't trust they will respect their agreement. This is my opinion."

The talks kept going until around 5 PM, when the Emperor decided:

"We will cede Hawaii, but first we will request negotiations. We will talk more later."

Jax Yamato, Imperial Congress Building, 18:05, Edo, Empire of Amurria

The Emperor stood on the balcony, overlooking the huge crowd which has gathered in the Revolution Plaza, in front of the building. They were waiting patiently for the Emperor to talk, and some were holding the Amurrian flag,

"People of Amurria, friends, comrades, brothers, foreigners, today I want to talk to you about the situation of the Empire." He took a deep breath then continued. "In light of our recent "invasion" of Hawaii, the Imperium of Sudardes, a totalitarian nation which oppresses it's people and crushes them under the military boot, has decided to spread lies that we are oppressing the Hawaiian people. I invite them in Honolulu to negotiate terms on which both of our nations will agree. I invite them in Hawaii to see that, in fact, the people are prospering. And I also invite the international community to visit New Constantinopole, and see the oppression their people suffer!

We, as a nation, are willing to cede Hawaii, but we will not accept our name to be taken lightly! Esteemed president Friedrich Nietzsche VII, Elizabeth Baxton, I invite you in Honolulu to negotiate, to reach an agreement. War is not needed, but should you force our hand, we will resort to it. People of Amurria, prepare for war, even though I hope it will not happen, we need to be ready. Both in mind and soul." He looked at the crowd and saluted, as overhead flew three fighter jets, with Amurria's colors, Red, White and Orange.

"Long live Amurria!" He shouted as the jets flew over the Plaza.

[Irillym]

Hello all! As an official decree by the Prime Minister, McKeown, my biggest five resources are ripe for the picking! We don't have the mining industry here in Irillym required to mine in large quantities, so I have a proposition for all of you. If you want to mine for salt, oil, natural gas, gold, or gypsum, you can do so for absolutely free, provided you replace whatever you take with flora and fauna and contact our Department of Environmental Support so we can officially restore the area.

Ta ta!

[Montgomere]

Trent wakes up, tired as ever, from the other day, of working at the port in Sicily, when he exported 70 boxes of goods to Saint Ryvern. This morning, he hoped for a better day at work today. As he walks downstairs, he notices that the house is oddly clean and silent. "Wow, hon' must've worked her tail off cleaning this house." Trent points out. He walks into the squeaky clean floor, which was reflecting the light coming from the windows. He gets his clothes on, ready for work. He walks to his garage to see his car all clean. "Wow, she worked so hard. Later, I need to thank her." Trent exclaims. He hops in his car, which has black leather seats, a screen with countless features, a light blue exterior color, and finished with a cooling and heating system. He drives for a few miles, to stop at a coffee shop. He stops at a coffee shop, that looks like it came out of a sci fi movie. It had features such as light blue led lights shining out of the sign, windows with light blue lights shining out of both top and bottom, and it has a bright logo that stands on the sign with dignity and pride. He walks in, then walks to the counter, where a nice cashier stands. "Hello, what would you like?" She asks, in a soft and kind voice. "Uh, I will have a macchiato decaf, with caramel swirl." Trent replies.

"Okay, that will be ₩2.35, please." The cashier says, as she types a few things into the screen. After Trent pays, he sits down in a birch wooden chair. He puts his arms on the steel table in front of him. He overhears a overwhelming conversation. "So, IDC and AFN are working together?" One man says. Trent knows a little about it, being that Montgomereans are kind but curious."No, that is just a theory. There is no REAL proof." Another man at the same table says. A few minutes later, Trent gets his Macchiato, and starts to drink it. After he finished his coffee, Trent walks out, refreshed, ready for the day to start.

[Amurria]

Hello all! As an official decree by the Prime Minister, McKeown, my biggest five resources are ripe for the picking! We don't have the mining industry here in Irillym required to mine in large quantities, so I have a proposition for all of you. If you want to mine for salt, oil, natural gas, gold, or gypsum, you can do so for absolutely free, provided you replace whatever you take with flora and fauna and contact our Department of Environmental Support so we can officially restore the area.

Ta ta!

"We are interested in this offer. May we discuss more details?" was written in the Amurrian official response to the Irillymian decree.

[Amurria]

Takagi Minamoto, Police HQ, Honolulu, Imperial State of Hawaii, Empire of Amurria, 21:03, 12th November 2018

Takagi was sitting uncomfortably in his office, he was put as the Chief of the Hawaiian Police Force, in itself now a branch of the Kenpetai, the secret police of the Empire. He was awaiting a call from Edo, regarding what to do in case the Empire's proposal of a meeting was accepted, until a knocking happened at his door.

"Come in." he said. Inside entered two armed men, followed by another one, shorter than them, with black hair and it was visible that he was of old age. "Who are you?"

"I am the governor of Hawaii, surely you saw me on the news, or in person, this morning."

"Why did you come here? Were you not told that you must remain within your residence? I will call the gua-" The armed men aimed their weapons at him.

"My friend, I think that will not be necessary. After all, we are loyal subjects of the Empire, thus we don't need guards to make sure we abide the rules." The governor said smiling, and approached the chief's desk.

"What do you want?" Takagi said as he slowly moved his hand to the button under the desk, pressing it.

"Simple. You'll let the meeting go smooth, provided it happens, and if anything, order your men to attack the Amurrian diplomats. With some luck, the Emperor himself will be present. and we'll be able to end him and his Empire in one shot." He said as the door opened slightly.

"I'm sorry, but that cannot happen. You were chosen by the Imperial Government to lead this State, thus you must obey it's orders." The two armed men behind him were shot, and a shouting could be heard from the door.

"Surrender now!"

"Smile for the camera, mister governor, the whole world will know you cannot be trusted now." As soon as he said that, the old man tried to pull out his pistol, but was shot in the heart, effectively killing him.

"A shame you had to kill him. But we have the recording. Broadcast it in the Empire." Takagi said.

Remote Village in Outer Manchuria, Empire of Amurria, 21:15, 12th November 2018

The Kenpetai's trucks were moving on the dirt roads of Manchuria, their target was a local priest who was thought to aid the rebels. The trucks were of a deep black, equipped with bulletproof glass and one-way windows, giving the drivers and crew within a certain degree of safety against any insurgents. Any Amurrian would know these trucks are mostly seen in the Chinese District of New Osaka, where anything that is not bulletproof is either dead or dying. But to the people of Manchuria, who saw these trucks from day one of the integration, knew that whoever went in, never got out. Villages fell into silence when they passed through, only to resume their activities once they are sure they are away. They were feared by the local population, and this fueled their anti-Amurrian sentiment, exploited by the rebels. Only those in the cities slept well at night, and even then not everyone was safe.

The trucks entered a on the border with Jazado, it's name being [REDACTED]. The people were dancing in front of the local inn when they saw the trucks approaching. Before they could run to hide, out of the vehicle came a man dressed in a long black military coat, holding a pistol, followed by three men who wore face masks. Their leader asked the first person that he saw.

"Have you seen [REDACTED]? It is suspected he is aiding the rebels in their efforts." he said in a bored voice, but the person in front of him was scared to death.

"I-In the house besides the church. That's where he lives!" the villager said scared.

"Thank you." the group headed to the church, which was dimly lit by a few torches outside. This village barely had any electricity, besides the administrative building, which consists of a bigger house. When they got close to the church, they saw the side door was opened.

Inside they saw their target, an old priest, who was kneeling towards the altar, praying. He payed the men no mind as they got closer and closer to him, until they were not even one meter away from him.

"[REDACTED] [REDACTED], due to your pro-rebel actions and your unwillingness to cooperate with the law enforcement units in the past, you are under arrest. Any resistance will result in your death. Please come with us."

The priest calmly followed them, and he three men placed bombs on the inside of the church and his house, then followed their leader and the prisoner until the local river, [REDACTED].

"Your sentence has been decided long ago. You are deemed too dangerous to be kept alive. Got any last words?" the man in the black coat asked.

"Yeah, go to he-" The priest couldn't finish his sentence before he was shot in the head by the leader of the group, falling into the river. At the same time, the village's church and house exploded, creating a flash of lighting in the surrounding areas. The group returned to the village, where the people were looking at the burning church, often making prayers, almost forgetting the Kenpetai were not ten meters away. The four men entered back into the trucks, and began driving away, back into Romanov, the nearest city.

[Confedracy]

New Eden
The Byzantine Commune
The city was a disorienting blur of geometries. Modern skyscrapers struggled with ancient architecture. Temples to some of the world’s largest religions were erected here eons ago and still stood today. Often times the city was fraught with religious activity. But the Commune kept the peace thanks to strict regulations on the interactions of the major churches. But no one could cap of the tension completely. Delegates had been coming into the city with their entourages and security forces all day. Austro-Hungarians still on the backs of their recent unification had a gleam of pride in their eyes. Coming to the cultural heartland of the Commune was quite the invitation. Letskians flew in from the far north. Admiring the city and its people but with a certain look of unease. As one looks at someone they aren’t entirely sure was completely on their side. But the warm reception melted away any fears they may have held. The African delegation arrived together. On separate but oddly timed flights. Namely those of Saint Ryvern and Rostokia. Both delegations were calm and businesslike. Expelling any myths about the lack of progress Africa had made in modernizing.
They were greeted by Acilies. A tall woman with olive skin and grey eyes. Her hair a deep shade of red. Whether natural or dyed no one was quite sure. The press was everywhere. International figures usually kept to themselves outside of major political functions in The Commune and usually stayed in the foreign districts of town. Oskar Johansen and his entourage of Letskians sat down at the long table. They had been lead into a grand building of old soviet architecture. Behind them was a great model of the world/ Blue and Red banners with a Red Star hung around the building. Here in the Press Room the delegates sat down before a crowd of Byzantine officials and lesser delegates. The representative of the BCP (Byzantine Communist Party) looked a bit ill-tempered as the peered over who had come to the signing. Obviously not up to scratch with them politically but none said anything. Mariana Ejaiti herself sat at the right hand of Acilies near the center of the table in a place of high honor. Being one of the highest ranking people internationally here after all. With all the delegates seated and cameras rolling Acilies spoke

“Comrades, Friends, Partners and fellow nations. The Byzantine Commune is honored and humbled by your presence here today. I on behalf of the BCP and The Combined Unions Syndicate are grateful for your attendance. Today is a historic day. For after many weeks of discussion we will finally announce the existence of the Alliance of Free Nations. (A document was now being circulated and signed off by the comgression) By signing this pact your nation and your people have become the defenders of justice and freedom this world so desperately needs. (she leaned down and signed off on the document) All hail the workers of the world. And all hail The AFN!

Cheering and flashes of cameras flooded the press hall. But not everyone cheered…

Elsewhere the political situation shifted. Due in part to the rising of tensions around the world. Both Macedonia and Albania signed into to become part of The Commune, Bulgaria after a long recount and small amounts of political bloodshed. Finally voted in favor of joining into the Commune. The Bulgarian army however revolted and a government in exile fled to New Karelograd. In the border regions with Romania the army broke into small bands of insurgent rebels under the banner of Free Bulgaria and had control over the rural provinces that The Legion had not secured. Fighting these rebels would not be easy or quick. But in time it was believed they would surrender and go home.

[Dominance]

Subject #9344 couldn't feel anything. The pain was no longer stimulating to him, just another sensation that meant nothing to his dulled nerves. He was forbidden to speak, forbidden to look the Enforcers in the eyes, and forbidden to be human. His name was stolen from him, to use it would incur the wrath of Him. He was the most dangerous thing an individual could be in the Dominance; he was a heretic. It didn't take long until his own neighbours had reported him to their local military patrol. He couldn't remember much. He was heavily drugged, and repeated head trauma rendered his memory feeble. The soldiers had broken into his residence after his daily labour schedule and paraded him down the street, naked and flogged, until he reached the Keep. The Keep loomed over Dominated society for as long as any subject of Dominance would live. It reminded you of the ever-watchful eye of the Lord Dominator Himself casting His judgement on the fragile bodies of flesh and blood. Nobody had ever seen the Lord Dominator in the flesh, nor had they believed their meager eyes would manage to sustain the sight. Regardless, he was worshipped with a zeal that seemed to betray the will to live.

The Lord Dominator kept a tight grip on his domain, primarily through his ruthless Enforcers that governed the actions of the Dominator's Justice, the pervasive military force of the Dominance. Every nook and cranny of Dominated society was carefully designed so as to invoke the feeling of fear and impunity, to quell rebellion and to reaffirm the omnipotence of the Eternal Empire. The henchmen of the Dominator's Justice were hardly human. At least, that's not what #9344 was ever told. They wore elaborate suits of red and black armor that obscured any skin or indication of humanity. They spoke with monotonous, robotic voices and wore helmets with the Dot at the very center. A Dominarian was taught to fear the Dominator's Justice and to worship the Dot more so than they valued their lives. Regardless, 9344 was stuck in a cold and damp cell. He wasn't even granted the liberty of moving. He was chained to the wall so tightly that he could hardly breathe. The cold weight of the metal on his sickly skin had created a permanent indentation.

His body ached. He could only see red. They wouldn't let him die, not anytime soon. When He has decided that 9344's life was no longer a necessary distraction, he would be crucified in front of the Palace of Domination and burned at the stake as an example to others. 9344's body jerked in fright as the heavy steel door of his cell was thrown open. Immediately, he felt a sharp around his throat. It felt as though it were being constricted. 9344 barely managed to open his eyes as he was shoved up against the wall.

He'd made a mistake.

He looked one of the soldiers in the eyes. This was considered one of the greatest acts of disrespect and heresy against the Eternal Empire and most of all, against the Lord Dominator. He shrieked as the soldier threw him to the ground and began to press on his throat with his leg. There was no emotion in his face. Only glee.

"You are being punished for the atrocious and heinous sins you have committed against the Dominance and His subjects. You deserve your fate. Suffer for your crimes, heretic. The Lord Dominator wishes only to discard you; it was his good grace to grant you your life." The soldier spoke in a voice that could only be identified as the manifestation of evil and callousness. The soldier lifted his foot and turned to the two soldiers waiting patiently, armed with rifles branded with the Dot, and nodded to them. "This filth does not feel remorse for his actions. Take him to the medical sector and," the soldier turned back to face 9344 on the ground, barely hanging on to consciousness. "Remove a few parts. Something he won't need in the next few days. The Enforcer had delivered a particularly creative method of execution for this one, handed down by the Lord himself." The soldiers saluted and moved to pick up 9344's near lifeless body to haul him off to the medical chamber. As the soldiers moved to exist the room, 9344 couldn't even muster the strength to protest. Not that it would ultimately change anything. Speaking when not spoken to would only make his punishment more severe. The head soldier of the trio stopped the other two and seemed to look 9344 straight in the eyes. He could swear he'd made out a devious smile underneath the helmet.

"Make sure he remains awake and alert of his surroundings during the procedure. When you're done with him, I don't even want to recognize this pathetic sod." The soldiers nodded and continued to carry 9344 out of the cell to place him into a containment chamber.

His life was over. He was condemned to his fate a long time ago, when they first seized him from his residence all those months ago. He deserved this. He defied Domination.

He defied Him. All hail the Lord Dominator and death to all who oppose him.

[Jazado]

Beijing, PR Jazado, 18:39 14th of November 2018

"Those crazy bastards," said the Chairman as he read the papers, "Can't believe that they've destroyed an entire Manchurian village."

"Yeah, and Sudardes is supposed to be a foreign oppressor? Is the pretender disillusion?" answered Zhang-Fei as he glossed over the map.

"Those Amurrians should really watch it, one of these days their gonna cross the line." said the Chairman once more,

"It'll be bad for them but good for us, imagine 'Jazado declares war on Amurria to free oppressed peoples' nationalistic spirit would be higher than ever!" Zhang-Fei answered again.

"Its time to start start writing then, we must inform the people." Chided Liu-Bei as he walked in.

A message to the people of Jazado and the Pretender King of Amurria,

Once more the Amurrian menace has struck,
Attacking the innocent and slaughtering them.
Do these heathens not know that God is watching?
Those people were our brothers in faith,
Our brothers at heart and brothers in arms.
Family to those who live in Manchuria,
Imperialist and exploiter, bane of all things holy,
Pretender and Bastard king of a savage land
I bid you good luck in face of god,
And it is with this mandate thrust upon our people
That I command you to cease, and return to your island.
Begone wretched heathens of the unknown,
Defiler of the righteous and holy,
Blasphemers who defile our holy tongue.
Return to the lonely isles from whence you came,
Leave the occupied lands that you oppress,
And maybe find your salvation.

Signed: the Chairman Liu of Jazado,