The Fate Of The Islands (Closed, ATTN: Rintyar)

[Thalassium]

It was the middle of the night, the stars and moon blocked by clouds that seemed so close that one could run their hand through it like cotton candy, or so Imperator Aetius Flavius thought. With a sigh so soft it could be lost to even the still air at the top of the mountain, he turned his attention down, into the caldera of the extinct volcano. Indeed, here where it should be dark and foreboding, the waters themselves glowed in turquoise and purple hues, lighting the Thalassian leader from below.

It was well known in the upper echelons of Thalassian society that Mount Amarlana was a special place. The secrets of it were so closely guarded that even into the modern day, for thousands of years, exposure of the knowledge even in Thalassium, much less abroad, of why the mountain was such a holy site boiled down to legends and myths, ignorant of the truth. The truth was quite simpler than the religious and cultural stories of the great battle between Aquamenria, the goddess of the seas, and Trinderis, titan of flame, though the bits about Aquamenria weren’t completely wrong. The waters in the caldera of the dead volcano, flooded for longer than records existed, were not waters of this world, but of Aquamenria’s; at the bottom of the volcano’s mouth was a portal to the goddesses plane.

Of course, such a secret could never be revealed to the masses, and so only a very few of the highest ranks were allowed to make the pilgrimage to the top of the mountain, and even they would have to undergo special and lengthy rituals to bypass the millenia worth of protective and concealing magics that had been spun and respun on the location. The Imperator was one of two who could make the pilgrimage at any time, for any reason, and had done so with great purpose on this occasion.

Aetius pulled a small bag off of his belt, opening it and pulling out a surprisingly large pink stone that glowed softly with an inner light, a very large and pure magistone. He began to chant in ancient tongues long since officially dead and abandoned, and then cast the stone to the middle of the caldera’s waters, where it hit with a small splash and began to sink, glowing ever more brightly as it did, until the glow of the stone was gone altogether after what felt both like seconds and eternities. Aquamenria had accepted his offering; as the waters began to turn from purplish hues to greens and yellows, it seemed she had cautiously accepted his pleas. The Imperator bowed his head, standing there a moment before turning to walk away. Before he did, he whispered, to himself and her, a thanks and an oath.

**

Soon, the islands would be wrested back from the usurpers, ancient claims fulfilled, and Thalassium restored to its once glory, because if they weren't, Thalassium threatened to tear itself apart from the inside out. The moment had come; Rintyar was distracted fighting the winter apocalypse in Silverdale, and weaker than it had been in generations, while Thalassium had slowly been building itself up to this very moment. With the Dragon Sea Alliance distracted, the Crown Alliance assailed, and the world holding it's breath, Aetius had been forced to the decision; Thalassium could wait no longer.

Several days later, in the port of Hadinius on the northern tip of the Isle of Seastrom, the Thalassian fleet sailed in an offensive stance for the first time in generations; the banners flew proudly from the fast ships, from the carriers, from the support ships. Underneath the waters, the submarines, Thalassium’s pride, silently moved out towards the north. The fleets, with their crew and marines, set sail for Rintyar and Ranstreimos, striking while the iron was hot, with the gods’ blessings.

[Rintyar]

That same dream came back to Empress Kaimara once again. It was as vivid as it could get, every detail of the spectacle visible to her.

She was armed with little more than a bronze spear and a large shield, covered in cow's hide and made of thick leather and wood. A club was held in a belt by her side, otherwise protected only by a loincloth and her own skin, many elaborate paintings made of a red dye on her skin as well. She was out of her element and yet strangely in tune with it, as if she had inhabited another’s body.

Alongside her were hundreds of similarly equipped Raizari women, Hair concealed beneath any number of different helmets, though all fashioned out of bronze. It was the only armor all of them had on in uniform, otherwise wearing little to the battle ahead. If her understanding of the situation served her correct, she was among the Levies of this ancient army, the poor pressed into conflict.

Two massive armies faced each other, horns blaring, the winds themselves violently twisting trees and grass. Thousands of shields stared them down, almost unthinkably massive in scale.

When the foes charged, they charged, herself at the forefront of the attack. It was a bloody and sudden fight between both forces, the marauding hordes in front of them giving no quarter, nor did they in turn.

Her spear first landed in the breast of a bearded apeling, hair kept wild underneath his bronze helmet and adornments. He would scream as she plunged it straight into his heart, pulling out quickly to keep up her momentum.

Her next target was another apeling, a young, savage woman, hair much more neat and body armored better than her peers. She had shoved her spear into the woman’s face, making a horrific mess of bone and flesh as it came out, unrecognizable as anything other than a blood soaked fleshy thing soon after.

More targets fell after these two, much of the hordes sent against them falling. Before long, the first of the foes’ retreated, only for the levies to be struck by a charging horde of charioteers. Some turned and ran, some were run down completely, but Kaimara could only feel rage as she began to charge, thrusting her spear right into the best equipped of the many charioteers striking their line.

When the spear snapped inside the charioteer lord's gut, she didn't cease her slaughter. Taking her club, a short but stiff piece of oak with a spiked ironwood end fastened to one end in a crude but effective package, she would swing it towards one of many charging marauders that came to reinforce their chariots. A tall, pale apeling with blonde hair was the first, his skull cracked when the club connected with his head, spurting blood and grey matter and ending his life in a sudden and inglorious end.

He was but one of many hundreds she would fell, a mad fury, instincts, and the will to survive keeping her going, Kaimara could feel it all, could feel herself fighting to survive. Even as much of the rest of her cohort routed, Kaimara could see this warrior continuing in her bloodshed, breaking through opposing regiments and routing them in turn. She had fought well above her station, as had many of her peers. But this war was unending.

Through foul magics, the dead rose again, the fallen coming back to try their hand at slaughter once more. This didn’t stop the warrior Kaimara saw through the eyes of, who simply continued her unending slaughter of those who rose up.

Wizards, undead, and soon the ultimate threat, a monstrous beast, turning the very battlefield into an inferno. Burning stones crashed onto the world, the beast refusing to descend as it kept at its murderous massacre. Only a lucky strike by a Javelin would force the winged horror to finally descend, Kaimara seeing this warrior show no fear as she rushed the beast…

When the dream ended, Kaimara was left only with the thought of how best to process it.

“The goddesses bless me with my ancestor’s sight… but to what end?”


***

“Keep us steady, if they’re planning something, we’ll be the first to see it.”

The Rintyari were exceptionally wary of the situation in Silverdale, enough to only bring the most limited fleet possible, given the situation presented to them elsewhere.

RIN Valora was one of many untold vessels patrolling the Dragon Sea, much to the dismay of her captain. It was a dangerous stationing, one that could at any time result in unmatched violence.

Her crew was kept awake through coffee and the heartwarming thought of sudden death at any moment, especially so close to Thalassian seas. While nominally international waters, they were all well aware of the Thalassian’s endless rattling of the sword, and their desire to make an example of the Empress’ warriors.

The Valora’s crew, all Drow and all women, scanned the seas for any threats and sights, Coordinating in some nominal sense with the rest of its Hunter Squadron.

The sea was as hostile as ever. The portents spelled of violence to come. The Priesthood of the Seven Goddesses warned all to steel themselves for the coming years. All of this combined to create a tense but professional attitude, aimed around survival and the defense of the homeland.

Rintyar was hardly unaware of the risk of Thalassian invasion. The Silverdaelan intervention was already incredibly limited as a result, and the historical REFORD and REFORRA exercises only came about because of a percieved weakness in Thalassium’s might. Now, all they could do was wait and see when their foe would strike, especially since the Dragon Sea Alliance had already bloodied itself defending Silverdale.

Already, the reports of heavy activity from the Thalassian fleet via military satellites got the captain of the Valora jittery, though it was hard to tell if this was yet another attempt to rattle sabres or a genuine threat. The sheer scale of it was unusual however, that much was sure.

Valora was but one part of a greater series of defenses. Naval vessels, island based anti-ship missiles, fighter-bombers and airships. All meant to stem the tide of the inevitable invasion that would come at any time, ready in a minute’s notice to strike the foe if it approached. None of this really helped soothe the crew’s nerves though, who were well aware that they were likely going to be some of the first in and first out of the war.

“Goddeses willing, the Thalassians know better than to try their luck now…”

[Alduinium]

And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.

- An unknown passage from a long forgotten kalpa

Vahzen was many things, respected, honored, feared by those who were attuned to the magics of the world. All who sensed her could feel not the usual death of the Priesthood, but something far more malevolent and ancient, not life nor death, utterly beyond the mask most priests, herself included, wore for power.

Indeed, such was her power that few would have dared to question her travel to Thalassium within the Dragon States, lest her eyes and manipulations find their way to silence those who asked too many questions. It was a lonely journey as well, using only her own power to move from the Cultist strongholds of Catedonia to the heart of the Thalassian empire, or what was left of it, by now.

For now, she merely wished to negotiate on behalf of the Dragon States with Thalassium following the conference, as had been described in a message sent with haste to the Emperor prior. Vahzen’s moves there were questioned, but in truth, little of consequence would come of it internally, that war was inevitable, so spoke the Kelle.

What had not truly been set in stone, however, was who would fight that war against the Dragon States. Thus, Vahzen marched onto the temple alone, taking no guards or retinue beyond herself, face and body utterly concealed behind a mask and cloak, bronze scales decorating over the latter in many ways.

The large doors of the Grand Temple at Mount Amarlana, intricately decorated with coral and pearl, patterns of sapphire and lapis lazuli depicting great waves, cresting into diamonds from which creatures of the ocean emerged, all looking at a figure of a woman, her upper torso out of the sea, uncovered, with long blue hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to penetrate Vahzen’s very soul despite being non-magical, before the doors suddenly creaked open, allowing entrance. There was no obvious guard outside the temple, and the inside was similarly surprisingly empty; it seemed someone had decided this visitor was not to be seen by the common chantry.

The way was still obvious without guards, low, green fires burning along a path heading straight ahead and deeper into the temple, past statues, paintings, and artifacts, a few of which seemed quite powerfully enchanted as Vahzen walked by, though their purpose was unknown. After walking for nearly twenty minutes on a plush carpet, she came across another large door, but this one was guarded by two women in heavy golden and sea blue armor, whose hands rested on the swords at their hips in a way that indicated it would take them far less than half a second to draw them. The one on the left spoke to the guest. “Who comes to the holiest of halls, to seek the wisdom or the aid of Aquamenria’s most highly blessed?”

Vahzen’s expression beneath the mask never changed, but could not be seen, her walk was slow, calculated, expressing total disinterest in the majesty of the greatest temple in Thalassium.

This disinterest extended to the guards, showing no reaction for several seconds, leaving an awkward silence in the process.

“I come only to talk to your master, not you.” Vahzen’s tone was venomous and hostile, little regard wasted on what was, in essence, a soulless door guard.

The door slowly creaked open as a feminine voice called out. “Allow her pass,” it said, and the guards moved out of the way, allowing Vahzen access to a surprisingly small room, with blue carpet and light blue tiling on the walls, a couple of comfortable looking leather couches facing a sturdy wooden desk, on which a magical light glowed. There were only two people in the room, but both distracted from any observation of the various accessories and accouterments any further; these were not just ‘soulless door guards’, but truly powerful people, both politically and personally. One was staring out a window over the night sea, a long, deep blue cape flowing from his shoulders, a thin silver and gold twisted band around his head, not turning to look at Vahzen. The other, the woman who had spoken earlier, sat behind the desk, giving their guest a small smile; she was one of the infamous merfolk of Thalassium, and as the doors closed themselves behind Vahzen, she slowly widened her smile, showing off sharp teeth subtly. The air in the room almost seemed to vibrate with the pure power rolling off the three; if there was a fight in this room, it was doubtless that at least one soul was going to be erased from ever having existed in the first place.

“Mmm.” Vahzen thought to herself, immediately turning her attention to the man in the blue cape.

“I have come to discuss the death of Thalassium, and how I can keep this wheel from turning to its inevitable conclusion.”

She did not mince words, there was no need, in her mind. If the Emperor was truly sane, he would not deny the obvious to her.

“The death of Thalassium will not come to pass,” the Emperor replied, not turning around, his tone stern. “Not unless the gods themselves abandon us. The rebirth of Thalassium… that is what I seek. To revive the nation in this world, and remind all of its place as the founder of civilization in all of western Mystria.”

Vahzen remained silent, merely grasping for something, an object concealed within her cloak. Out came an immaculate, finely carved and plated scroll of gold and wood, massive in Vahzen’s hands. Perhaps this was its true form, perhaps it was what one merely thought they saw, Vahzen knew the truth but had no interest in telling.

“I can show you what awaits your rebirth, should my involvement not come to pass.” Vahzen spoke again. “I have scarred my eyes extensively gazing into the future, staring into the very truths written into the very Kelle I hold. Allow me to let you see.”

The Emperor nodded to the woman, who smiled again as she pulled a small blue shard of some gem, polished to inhuman levels, out of a drawer. “We had considered that you might offer to read us the future,” the woman said in a polite tone. “Luckily, the flow of time is not unknown to the Great Mother of the Seas, and we have our own methods. One that do not require us to rely on your interpretations, or risk going blind.”

“If you believe a rebirth is possible without my help, then your gods have lied to you. Rintyar’s military is greater than it has been before. The Dragon Sea Alliance grows stronger with every day in spite of their wars for their own survival, rebellion and insurrection now threatens what little remains of your great holdings. You prepare an attack not because of rebirth, but because of stagnation, because you know there will never again be a time in which Thalassium will be anything more than a decaying regime, torn apart from within and without. This is the twilight of the Great Empires, the death of the last true bastions against the wicked stars. They know it, and they confederate, and soon they will be slaves to the Star Gods, colonials to be exploited by a greater master in the face of superior power, giving away all of their sovereignty and power in exchange for comfort and a foreign culture made to starve them of their talent and their pride. There is still time to stop this key from turning, but I cannot do it without your help, nor can you without mine.”

There was a long stretch of silence before the Emperor responded. “And what, exactly, do you propose? We are stronger than you think, but wisdom is a strength itself…”

“I bring more than mere wisdom. What I bring, is a way for you to undo your every national humiliation. To accomplish what your ancestors failed to do, to bring the Empire back from the brink. I know that you would not dare ally with the Dragon States, lest the star gods feast upon your people, but that is of no concern.”

Vahzen’s next moves were slow and deliberate, returning the scroll into her cloak. With both hands, she grabbed her mask, undoing the elaborate visage of the eternal guardians of the Cult from her face, revealing a face of many oddities. She embodied both youthfulness and age, her dirty blonde hair simultaneously graying and wilting, while also showing perfect maintenance. Her pale skin held wrinkles over otherwise perfect, smooth cheeks, her eyes showed every sign of blindness for moments, occasionally returning to their original clear blue before changing back, but otherwise retained a hawk’s sense. Her very body was not attuned to time correctly, seemingly changing in subtle ways with every blink of the eye.

Finally, it settled on the image of an aging, motherly figure as she tossed the mask onto the floor, perhaps to feign normality, or to hide another image of the same face, from something that was very much the absence of normality.

“I know what will break their spirit, I have in my possession the tools to overwhelm and break them, what I ask for in return is ultimately meaningless, in the grand scheme of things.”

The woman behind the desk scowled, her own face growing darker and more angular, gills along her neck flaring as she regarded the newly revealed face of Vahzen. “Tools of pure evil, of desecration and darkness and endless consumption, the kinds of things that don’t just twist your soul, but steal it from you? We are not the same, necromancer, and your fal-”

“Stop yourself, Kahurangi,” The Emperor said, and he finally turned. He was surprisingly youthful, with deep, dark hair and a well tanned face. The band around his head now was revealed to be a small crown, and he wore a special armor, similar to the door guards’ but purple and gold and deep blue. Despite his appearance, authority and power both rolled off of him. “You seek for me to gamble my people’s souls. What do you want, and how will you help?”

“I gamble no more Thalassian souls than you are prepared to gamble, if the Kelle, as do my other divination methods, hold the truth.” Vahzen shrugged, a small smirk on her lips.

“What I offer is not merely wisdom, but a way to finally break the foundation of Rintyar. I have spent a great many years learning its many weaknesses, why it has fared so well against our invasion plans before. I now know what it will take to make it all crumble down, to crush their spirit and to leave their allies incapable of responding.”

“But, while I have resources and power to break Rintyar permanently, I do not have the backing of the Dragon States military, nor the desire to lord over most of it. That, I leave, to another Great Empire and leader.”

“When my people die in service to the state, their souls return to the great primordial sea, to add their experiences and become a new person all over again,” the Emperor said coolly. “When they die in service of yours, they are consumed or bound. Do not think we aren’t aware of the atrocities of your master; even if you are truthful that you are working without approval, you are still the same beast. Also, do not think I haven’t noticed the way you dance around what you want; you call Thalassium a great empire, but your lord's goal is to consume all, is it not? What would stop you from consuming us just as well, were we to provide you such a convenient foothold?”

Vahzen stood silent for a moment, her smirk turning briefly into a vicious scowl, filled with intense disgust and hatred, upon hearing of her Lord. It faded, but it was surely noticeable.

“Are the lives of the Rintyari really worth that much to you? Do you concern yourself with the opinions of rebellious traitors and terrorists? Why do you show so much sympathy for the plight of those who will be dead beneath your feet should you succeed regardless? It is the nature of Great people like you and me to step on those lesser than us for our own gain.”

“Now, all I wish for, in return, is aid with hunting down a murderous brigand named Tizoc, and personal control over a port settlement, preferably Bokrai, but the choice is yours. I can assure you that I will get to work on ending the Rintyari question as soon as we have a deal.”

“How?” Was the single word response from the Emperor.

“Simple.”

Vahzen’s smirk returned, extending her palm to reveal a small circular device.

A hologram of Rintyar displayed above the device, a detailed map, made painstakingly with the best equipment the Dragon States had to offer. It held detailed information on military outpost, population centers, manufacturing, roads.

"I have many ways to break Rintyar, but why not go for the most direct slice to the neck."

The image now focused on a small blip on the map, an utterly insignificant dot in contrast to the Rintyari landmass.

A dozen streaks existed out of it and into the sky, soon flickering in and out of existence, becoming visible and invisible as they flew along into the sky.

“Have you already done what you planned?” The Emperor frowned. “Are you launching nuclear devices against Rintyar?”

“Nuclear devices are against the faith! They pollute the air and the seas!” The woman behind the desk stood, slamming her palms into it. “Absolutely not! The wyrm of the dark arts is more than bad enough! Lady Aquamenria will not stand for this, Imperator Aetius!”

“I agree. We cannot agree to this; I will not sell my people’s souls in this way. You wish to act against Rintyar? Do it yourself. I would rather see Thalassium die than have it abandon its faith for temporary gains. These rebellious people you would slay en masse, with nary a chance or a thought, from a distance, are people I consider mine. They will be returned to the family, not slaughtered,” the Emperor said. “Now. Leave. Or you will never leave anywhere, ever again.”

"Fired twenty minutes ago. Nuclear? Do you take me for a simple terrorist? No, they are 500 kiloton warheads of a magical nature, much more readily available to the Great Librarian of Keizaal, much less keys to twist. Their true majesty comes from their delivery system."

A second later, the missiles disappeared entirely from view.

"That you think these people that will be slayed would have accepted you is only telling of the rot that has weakened Thalassium, however. They never would have, and never will, accept you as their master until their very way of life is eradicated from this world. I've merely started what you would have tried, and failed, to do this entire time, once your armies crossed into Rintyar."

A sword appeared, as if from nowhere, in the Emperor's hand. “That is for me to determine, not you. If you wish to carry out your genocidal plans, we will not be part of it, undead queen. Leave these blessed halls, now.”

“If? There was never an if, only a question of whether or not you’d have liked to take your place among the great powers. ”

“As if you know how a great power works, vile serpent worshiper,” the woman behind the desk growled. “We seek to save souls, not feed them to a fattened demon lord pretending to be a god!”

Vahzen stopped herself entirely, her smirk turning into a sudden bout of laughter, coming as quickly as it went.

“Save souls? A creature who plans the invasion of hundreds of millions has the gall to pretend that she in any way cares about the soul? About the well-being of those she plans on lording over, reeducating, and torturing when they inevitably refuse and spit on her gods?”

Vahzen stepped back with a confident smirk, nonetheless continuing her speech.

“Your ancestors were admirable, they knew what needed to be done to bring themselves the power they believed they deserved. They did not sit upon a throne of their ancestors’ belongings moaning about the death of their Empire, they saw only that they could master those around them and bring them to their knees and did so. If even a shred of their greatness remains in your bones, then you will know what to do. Otherwise, enjoy the show.”

And with that, Vahzen left the temple, a smirk still on her lips. She knew the Thalassians would have no choice now, given what lay ahead.

***

Nights were never Esha’s strongpoint, always draining away his willpower, demanding caffeine lest he pass out next to the stove, never a good combination going by the few burns on his hands.

Thankfully, today was the last night he’d work at Kathira’s Pizzeria, so it wasn’t going to be that big a deal any-longer, lest his hand turn as pink as his dyed hair.

It was a small place, mostly take outs and deliveries, but there was still a dining area, or as much as could be afforded in downtown Sheyana. It was closing time, at least, Esha’s time now mostly spent cleaning the place.

“Hey, heard the news about you moving to BU, shame, you were somehow the least awful worker I had late shift.”

The manager was, amusingly enough, a Drow, one of many undercity types who now inhabited the city, still in her youth, however many hundreds of years that had been. She was always beautiful, Esha thought, not that he’d ever think about it any further than that. Her red eyes scanned him deeply for a moment, her dark skin mostly concealed beneath her work clothes and an apron, a half-eaten pizza adorned on it.

“Gee, already gonna miss having to deal with you all night.”

“And I’m gonna miss having to keep buying you energy drinks every time you start falling asleep on me. Does Asra know, by the way?”

“Huh? Yeah, he knows, I told him about it when I got the news, he was real' excited about it, said he was thinking about moving to Bokrai just to keep me company too, but I told him not to waste his money like that, that I’ll just visit him every week.”

“Pfft, keep you company, right.”

“I mean, yeah, what else would he do it for.”

“I can think of a good reason or two.” Her eyes leaned further down on Esha’s body, leaving the Raizari blushing.

“Oh c’mon, that’s not the only reason we’re hanging out, you freakin’ perv.”

“It’s gonna be the only thing you’ll be doing if you come and visit him once a week, judging by how often you two seem to hang out at the apartment.”

“Geez, that smutty stuff you keep reading is getting to your head. Half our time is just spent playing Damnation or watching trashy old movies.”

“I’ve seen what your avatars look like on Damnation, I refuse to believe there aren’t some whips involved.”

“Is that all you Undercity types think about? Whips, sodomy and the lash?”

“Would you be scared if I said yes?”

“Just a little bit.”

Both of them instinctively chuckled, the dining area otherwise clean now.

“Congrats, by the way, if you need a recommendation, you know who to call.”

“Thanks, please don’t weird them out.”

“No promises.”

“Alright. By the way, I have a spare ticke-”

There was a sudden feeling of intense agony, misery, hatred, concentrated in an utterly unfathomable mass. It had unleashed itself upon the world in the only way it knew how.

Esha felt it all, first the sudden cracking of the windows in front of him cheap steel furniture being tossed by pressure as a massive gust of wind and glass tore one of his eyes and limbs to shreds.

The sheer heat that he now felt had burned his skin, now boiling away from his body, not that he could feel it anymore. The screams that came out of him were ones of pure, abject horror, no longer of pain.

When the screaming ended, so did his soul, fed into the gaping maws of either a god or a usurper, along with millions more citizens of Sheyana, one of thirteen strikes made on Rintyar.

[The Ctan]

It was very easy to describe military actions in the terms of weapons, gross actions, and such, a focus on such things was easy:

The Great Civilization Harvest Vessel Especially Sharp Rock, assigned to close observation of the Mystria region responded with orbital strikes against the Dragon States in a counterforce assault, tens of thousands of strikes against known munitions sites.

An armamentaphile would describe it thus:

The Great Civilization Harvest Vessel Especially Sharp Rock was a six kilometre warship with a crescent shaped forward section that housed a dozen weapons. Assigned to a polar orbit that kept it as one of a trio of vessels with continuous oversight of the region, it was already locked in on the nation of Alduinium. A number of strike packages had been created, and in the moment that close observation drones detected the missile launches, before their teleportation, the ship had calculated their destination and begun to select its reprisal options.

Simultaneously, field generators in the Satrapy, Crystal Spires, Altea and Malgrave activated force fields that permeated the entire regions of both nations, operating to quash major explosions. These were of a different nature to ‘bubble’ shield generators, though the arrays installed in all those nations also included these.

The ship reoriented itself slightly, a pulse of spatial manouvering shifting spacetime around it to align it with the Dragon States. It watched the missiles disappear, and tracked them as they detonated in Rintyar, a nation that was not under the Great Civilization’s protective umbrella per se.

It had waited to assess the damage to determine which reprisal option to use.

The ship was capable of inflicting damage greater than anything the region had experienced short of the Hippostanian planetary excision, but the package it selected did not go that far.

The reason for the response was that the Dragon States had violated the warning that the Great Civilization had delivered at the Mystrian Prosperity Conference against further Alduinic aggression, but the target was not one that had been pro Great Civilization, so protocols that mandated major attacks against civilians were not in play.

Furthermore, the leadership of the Dragon States would likely not care about its civilians.

Instead, the response was designed to degrade the Dragon States’ ability to do further harm.

The ship’s main bays carried a number of submunition platforms, specialized orbital assault arrays that it had so far not deployed, it released these at once, while firing its own weapons.

First, ablative projector whips; these were the weaposn most commonly known as gauss flayers, though scaled up to vast, anti starship size. These were targeted at known sites for missile launches, firing and turning the top fifty meters of rock, soil, trees and people into vapours over areas of thousands of kilometers. Most of that vapour was rotated out of phase with reality, removing fissile materials entirely from the earth. In a strict sense this was a many megaton strike at least as the energies released. These weapons could do much more, but they spoke strictly to remove concentrations of strategic weapons.

The secondary weapons system of the Especially Sharp Rock was lightning arcs, weapons that forked and danced, with the appearance of natural lightning, but spreading before it touched the atmosphere, the power to fracture mountains vented against certain naval vessels.

In places the teleporters of the harvest ship spoke, more than once teleporting huge voids beneath hardened sites, removing thousands of square meters of material and causing the ground to heave and pitch structures and weapons emplacements into sudden sink-holes, while dropping the excavated stone on others.

The bombardment platforms were more precise, pencil thin beams of energy appearing to strike air defence satellites and aerodromes, or even aircraft in flight. It was the thin end of a wedge, but the ship was demonstrating just how proficiently it could vent its fury, and these platforms were able to destroy individual ground vehicles through the atmosphere, but they were focussed on removing anti-ballistic missile sites and other defensive systems, while the ship’s own weapons focussed on the Alduinite navy and major strategic weapons, these could engage tractor-erector-launchers and other land based strategic platforms.

Submarines were a task for others though, unless they were unfortunate enough to be in port or travelling on the surface.

For now, several hundred strikes a minute were thrown at Alduinum, all of them confined in their damage, and precision targeted at military assets, but for any ship or ground site targeted by the vast warship in orbit, there was little hope of remaining combat effective, though the restraint shown was enough that some of their crews would survive. The Especially Sharp Rock would only begin to slow its assault when it deemed that the Dragon States’ home continent was denuded of potential platforms for deploying nuclear weapons.

How a politician would describe the assault though? Time would tell.

[Kouralia]

Strategic Command Centre, Joint Forces Base, Progress Hill,
Progress Hill Special Sovereign Military Administrative District, United Kingdom of Malgrave

The Strategic Command Centre was one of the parts of the Kouralian military base within Progress Hill that had been constructed entirely by Kouralian Military Engineers and specialist contractors sanctioned by the highest levels of government - not for this part of the facility were the staff of MalCon destined. The materials had been shipped in from Kouralia and had landed quayside on what was, quite technically, Kouralia again. Everyone from the lowest of apprentices to the architect herself was vetted and cleared to a standard as high as guardsmen at the Special Branch of the Treasury because the facility they were constructing was not what it seemed. The Strategic Command Centre at Progress Hill had not merely been constructed with the information management systems, communication equipment, and facilities necessary for a Corps-leading General Officer to lead the Eastern Theatre Command. It was, excepting the Military Liaison Staff Office at the Allians Byggnaderna in Imerburg and the secretive extraterrestrial complexes built by Faeryn Command, the furthest Kouralian Military base from the mainland. It was a 'sovereign' territory ensconced within the borders of Kouralia's closest and longest allied friend, and for that reason it was also capable of acting as the reserve Central Government War Headquarters.

Within it was room over four floors for over a thousand Politicians, Diplomats, Civil Clerks and military personnel to act as the nucleus of a continuation government for the Crown Union - the vestigial last gasp of what would surely be a long-dead civilisation. It was connected to a vast network of satellites, undersea detectors, and surface sensor arrays that continually scanned the oceans, skies, and voids above Eastern Mystria for threats to Kouralia and to Malgrave. They scrutinised near enough the entire electromagnetic spectrum, shot radar waves through the clouds and beyond to pinpoint physical projectiles, and even professed a capability to detect thaumic emissions - as rudimentary as that capability might be if placed next to that operated by the Beastling States or other local powers. All of this information was steadily fed through a funnel of increasingly shinier brimmed and stiffer-lipped officers until with a sudden clunk, the complex's lights swapped from a routine white to a dim emergency rouge.

As the Servants of the Wyrm burned the East and the Great Civilisation reduced them to wood fires and caves in turn, Legatus-Naughilus Mæyst'Amyræl Ꞩ Ean Astoræll opened the door of his office and glared out at his aide de camp as a teleconference on the enGoatenning of the West sat muted and ignored on his monitor.

"Fucking what now!?"

[Legokiller]

OOC: Collab between Dyste, Rohane Alista, and Rintyar

The Central Hall Building, DSA Artificial Island “Cornucopia”

It was 3:12 AM, and Daisy would never forget that for the rest of her life. She hadn’t even changed; she was wearing a nightgown under a heavy coat, her makeup wasn’t done, revealing the bags under her eyes, her long, blonde hair completely unkempt as she strode at her fastest pace through the building, heading for the sealed doors of the Council chamber. Despite this, her eyes were not in their usual half lidded form, but wide open, to accompany the fierce frown on her face. She stopped for a brief second to throw an empty, crushed coffee cup in the trash, before turning down a hall to her left. She almost slammed her passcard against the scanner as her phone beeped in her pocket. She grabbed it, taking a brief glance before marching into the room.

Amalia for her part, slithered in a few moments after Daisy. Her normally well done long black hair was an utter mess, with her still being seemingly half asleep as she made her way towards the table. In one hand, she held a cup of coffee while in the other she held a tablet that was displaying a live feed from Rintyar. Though exhausted, even Amalia knew that this was a morning that would forever be seared into her memory. Looking to Daisy, she shook her head as she sat down in the Council Chamber's conference table. This is going to be a long morning…. she thought.

Before either of them arrived, Melux Whitewing was already at the table, looking over notes about the attack. Given the scales around his eyes were rather dark for the normally pristine-white look of the Light Draconid, the eyes themselves looking bloodshot, it was likely he hadn’t slept in a while. “Ah… you two have made it. I… wish you did not have to get up at such an hour, but unfortunately the situation called for it…”

"Given the….dire…nature of the circumstances, it was something that we could not afford to delay. Honestly, I am almost tempted to believe this is just a shared nightmare rather than our reality." Amalia said, shaking her head as she downed yet another cup of coffee, "Have either of you received word from your governments yet as to how they plan to respond to the attacks?"

“Yes,” Daisy said, sinking into her seat with a small groan. “Melux, where is Locua? I honestly don’t expect the Rintyari to manage to bring anyone, but I think we can safely assume their vote?... regardless. Rohane Alista intends to follow our standard policy in regards to WMDs,” she said, knowing the silence was enough to inform the other two that Rohane Alista intended to wipe the Dragon States off the map.

"Glaristant…" Amalia went silent for a moment, averting her eyes from the message she saw appear on the tablet. She breathed in, her voice almost a whisper as she spoke, "The state council has voted unanimously to respond with measures…. appropriate for the situation." Amalia looked to Melux and Daisy, her troubled gaze being enough to inform of what Glaristant had intended for the Dragon States.

“My wife…” Melux looked over, “She… is not a morning person, to say the least, but she should be arriving shortly. As for Dyste… we do not have such weapons in our arsenal. That said, we will protect our fellow alliance members. That has always been a primary concern for us.”

It wasn’t long for Locua to lazily stroll down into the Council Chamber, seemingly half awake. The elven woman gave a small gaze at Melux to show a hint of solemness as she yawned. “How dire…” She muttered. “Or a song of the past… The dragon unleashes its fire, but on a far grand and intense scale…” She took a deep breath. “Silverdale has its arsenal of WMD ready to retaliate against those who strike our friends, but how far do we intend to go? Banish them as a whole?”

"I cannot speak for the Rohanians, but Glaristant has decided that it will be retaliating with a proportional response. Thirteen of the Dragon States's largest cities will be targeted for destruction, along with its military and nuclear facilities. The State Council has authorized further strikes against additional targets, pending continued DS hostilities against our allies." Amalia said, sighing as she projected a hologram of the targets of the Glari attacks from her tablet, "Pending approval from the rest of this Council, the Glaristanti High Command will be transmitting the launch orders."

“I admit, I have no love of such tactics,” Melux said, a long drawn out sigh, “But it appears the Dragon States have been relentless in their assault. I… would advise against targeting civilians, personally, but I will not stand in the way of Glaristant’s own wishes.”

"I understand and to an extent, admire your outlook on the matter, Melux. Yet with that being said, we are dealing with a foe who has proven they do not value civilian lives. The only recourse left to us in such a situation is to show them that such despicable acts cannot be allowed to occur again." Amalia said, a painted expression on her face as she spoke, "You dystans have been fortunate to never know the horrors of modern war, let alone what it takes to win one. Be it in the trenches of the Aravean Civil War, the plains of Onrac during the Continental War, or our own civil war….we learned that sometimes it takes setting aside one's morals or restraint to bring peace. Like it or not...The utter barbarity of the DS assault, proves that in this case…such an approach is required. Simply put councilor, if we do not remove their capacity to wage war…then we will see this tragedy repeated time and again "

"I said it, didn't I?" Daisy stared at the other three. "Rohane Alista will follow existing protocol… once I give the pass code, they will unlock the package, and then we will make a good faith effort to ensure there is no such thing as a Dragon States in any reality of this forsaken rock.”

". . . I see. Then half-measures from Silverdale won’t be enough.” Locua grimaced. “Then we shall follow suit and unleash fire and frost upon the land. It’d defang the Dragon States, and the malevolent dragons will find their treasures empty from it.”

"No more talk, please, we must strike now, before there is no time left."

Athira Sentres normally preferred to speak last, if ever, oftentimes more of an observer than a direct participant in Council activity. Her eyes were a deep red, tears staining her face considerably. Her long hair looked almost wilted, gray turning to white in spite of her age. Her voice was stilted and reduced to a simple tone, utterly destroyed by the annihilation of millions of lives.

"They have an unparalleled first strike capability. No more talk, we must strike now, before it comes again. We have lost enough."

Daisy pulled her phone back out of her pocket, the device now buzzing so much it sounded like a cheap children's toy. She read as quickly as she could before her frown deepened. "The Ministry of Defense wants to coordinate strikes using our facilities here to ensure maximum effectiveness. The Ministry of State… is saying we must provide at least basic information of our strikes to the Crown Alliance to prevent them striking us in fear…" She gasped as her phone buzzed again, her already strained face growing more so. "They are sending Princess Anastasia to Imerburg as collateral."

“... what?” Melux’s bloodshot eyes widened. “Why on earth would they allow that? This is not a hostage situation, it is defending ourselves from an attack from a hostile power.”

“Pardon?” Locua eyes opened up as she glared at Daisy.

"Don't blame me!" The Bovinian snapped. "I'm already asking!..." Her phone buzzed again and she groaned. "They have apparently received a hostage in return, to 'ensure there are no accidents', whatever the fuck that means."

“What is this absurdity?” Locua spoke up. “First one of our allies’ people were obliterated from the earth, and now there is a hostage situation to prevent a far greater annihilation? “

"This is madness, even for the Imerians. Surely, your government isn't daft as to allow one of the Imperial Family's heirs to be held hostage by our sworn foes?!" Amalia snapped, her eyes twitching as she regarded Daisy with bewilderment, "I am sorry, but we cannot agree to such a bargain."

"Ignore them. We must avenge those lost…" Athira's voice was hollow and frail, hiding the intense hatred and fear in her mind.

"We are trying to prevent the rest of your people, and ours, from joining the fallen, Athira," Daisy said. "I hope I'm alive in twelve hours so I can strangle Severa myself."

"Daisy….you know that we cannot agree to this. Sharing information on our targets is bad enough, to send our first hostages?! It is tantamount capitulation to the CA.." Amalia retorted

Locua shook her head dearly. “By this approach? I’m at a loss for words.”

"What do you want me to do?" Daisy asked. "They worry about a nuke in Calihain while the defenses are focused on Alduinic threats. It's out of my hands."

Melux held his hands up, “Alright… listen. As much as we dislike it, that is something that is being decided between Rohane Alista and Imeriata. I do wish we were indeed informed about it before a decision was made, but that is beside the point. The fact of the matter is, this only means we must act fast in order to end this conflict.”

"Do as you will, but know that we will not be providing the Immerians with more than basic targets. I am sorry, but the State Council will never agree to anything more than that." Amalia said, shaking her head, "That matter aside, Melux is correct. We must meet ve with the utmost urgency if we are to put an end to the Dragon State threat."

“Can we at least agree to coordinate our strikes?” Daisy glared at Amalia. “Athira is right that we must still strike sooner than later.”

"That was always the plan, Daisy." Amalia retorted, her eyes narrowing at the bovinian.

"We must strike major military installations not just in Alduinium, but also Catedonia and any other colonial holdings. With sincerest apologies to Prince Tizoc, but this, all of this, could have been avoided if we had not been goaded into fighting a war for him." Athira added, now leaning against anything she could.

"Daisy and Locua, what are your nations targeting in their strikes on the Dragon States? Amalia inquired.

“I cannot fully say.” Locua frowned deeply as she became silent. “Outside of the strategic targets, there might be major cities included.”

“The Ministry is still sending through information, but… it appears to be targeting all major population centers and military installations in the Dragon States proper with multiple strikes, including deployment of the LazSat on Windhelm, and Catedonian bases with more conventional weaponry,” Daisy replied. “They await my passcode to launch… they’re getting pretty insistent.”

"The General Staff has chosen to target the main and secondary military installations in both DS proper and Catedonia, along with strikes on secondary cities and settlements. The strikes in Catedonia will thankfully be with conventional weaponry, but even still…." Amalia sighed, looking down to her tablet, "The General Staff is getting impatient….they wish to know if they can execute the launch authorizations."

"Our targets have already been chosen. Kaimara had been insistent on allowing the Rintyari arsenal to have the task of striking Windhelm, New Windhelm, and Xoteca first. Further delays in the process will…. require us to ignore DSA approval… I'm sorry."

“... really, everyone?” Melux frowned. “I seriously question why we would focus at all on Catedonia for attacks. The Dragon States themselves I understand. But is it really necessary to do that at well?”

"Catedonia holds a significant Alduinic military presence, and according to our infiltrators, an even larger Loyalist force. Tizoc's insurgency is irrelevant now, they must face the horrors they inflicted on us too."

“Conventional weaponry,” Daisy pointed out again. “And only on military targets. Defense is telling me this is standard ‘pre-boots on ground operational procedure’... it appears we will next be voting to authorize joint warfare in Catedonia… Melux. Call the vote,” she said, looking at the time on her phone. 3:25AM. “We have no more time. Launches are going to start without us, and then it all falls apart, doesn’t it?”

“... very well.” Melux raised his hands. “I will ask all of you then, do you approve of this plan, to strike the Dragon States? As per usual, one vote per nation, and all are counted equally.”

"... i must communicate with Kaimara to remove nuclear targets in Catedonia then… otherwise you have my… approval."

Athira collapsed outright, her body giving up outright from stress, fatigue, the sheer horror of the situation. She had given what she could, but even willpower had its limits.

“Rohane Alista votes aye,” Daisy said simply, her eyes haunted.

"Glaristant votes aye." Amalia said, averting her eyes as she tapped on her tablet.

Locua sighed for a moment as she spoke up. “Silverdale votes aye.”

Melux looked at everyone; for a brief moment, he actually considered voting ‘nay’, but… no, this couldn’t keep on going. Action was needed. “... and Dyste votes aye. By unanimous decision, the ayes have it, and the motion goes through. … I am sad it has come to this, but such actions by the Dragon States cannot be tolerated.”

"So say we all, Melux." Amalia remarked, sighing as she looked back down at her tablet.

“I will transmit the approval… Gugalanna save us all. I hope we’re here to vote on the follow up procedures,” Daisy said, typing something into her phone before holding her head in her hands. “If not… it was an honor. Truly.”

"Gods willing, we will be here to discuss other matters soon enough. If not…Well, if not…then may you all be in paradise for an hour before the infernal knows you have passed." Amalia said, closing her eyes as she leaned back in her chair.

“I cannot say clearly if the divine will approve of this action. It is.. An extreme measure that’d disrupt both civilization and nature.” Locua admitted.

---

At 6:26AM local time, six pod bay doors opened on the IRS Bombardier that had never opened before. Six thin warheads rose up, then launched, quickly accelerating out of view into high sub-orbital flight. On the mainland of Rohane Alista, several underground silos opened, then more, and over the next ten minutes there was continuous fire of missiles from across the continent as hundreds of missiles joined those from the Bombardier, on a flight path for the Dragon State’s largest cities and most important military bases.

The largest of these was the only NM-87 launched; a five megaton warhead on a multistage hypersonic ICBM platform, headed directly for Solitude, swiftly reaching mach 7 as it flew over the dragon sea on the shortest path to began the annihilation of the Dragon States with a bang.

---

At 11:02 local time, a signal was received by the fifth submarine squadron elements of the Glaristanti Marinen. Unusually the transmission contained a set of orders for only the Fragarach, a lumen class ballistic missile submarine on exercise with the squadron. As the message was relayed to the Captain and XO, both exchanged looks of horror before ordering the sub to condition one. Quickly, the sub rise to the surface as the doors to it's missile tubes swung up. As the missile tubes opened, a broadcast was beamed to the nearby Malgravean Royal Navy ships involved in the exercise, "Move to five kilometers from our position. We are commencing launch prep."

Deep within the CIC, the Captain and XO stood side by side next to a a polished silver console with two key ports. The two exchanged one last look, nodding as they inserted their keys and primed their boat's payload for launch. Two crimson buttons rose from the console, the yellow plates covering them rising as the buttons to glow. "Arming tubes 1-10, beginning targeting upload. Turn your key on the count of 5,, XO." the captain choked out, as a the display above them counted down to zero over what seemed like an eternity. At last the counter reached zero, both men turning their keys to the launch position. The captain muttered a barely audible prayer to Brasa as he and the executive officer slammed down the launch buttons.

Without a moment's delay, twelve towering silver missiles were launched skyward. Their jets of flame and smoke obscuring the Fragarach to onlookers. As the ER-20 missiles reached orbit, their capsules opened, revealing ten black warheads that soon commenced the long descent towards their targets.

---

At 6:30 AM local time, the long mud and slush covered silos quaked as the hatches opened. What was supposed to be a simple maintenance day by the team was a full on scramble as computers began to mark their targets on cities of Dragon States. Solitude. Windrun. Then a whole number of locations selected as the three penguin operators looked at each other with both seriousness and shock.

“Wait, are we seriously going to nuke a country?” The younger of the penguins spoke up.

“You bet Lanny!” Head operator Rocky spoke up. “We’re going to make history.”

The more gleeful raised up the key. “Kaboom?”

“Yes Nick, kaboom!” Rocky rose up his key.

“Wait, this might be a huge mistake!” Lanny spoke up.

Yet it was too late as Rocky and Nick unlocked the big red button, and slammed their flippers hard on it! The earth shook as the first of dozens of ICBM warheads began to soar into the atmosphere from the southern lands of earth to reach their destination in the Dragon States.

---

Of the surviving Island Hopper regiments of the Rintyari Empire, only two were entrusted with a nuclear strike option. The only thing truly restraining them from unleashing their wrath now was a single command.

“If any of you don’t want to partake in what’s about to happen, you’re free to leave now.”

A commanding officer spoke to her team, though she knew none would budge from their stations.

“Alright then, launch authorization confirmed by both MAJESTY and DEFENDER, key has been turned, waiting on our signal.”

The crew did all of the necessary work, turning keys, running coordinates, preparing for what may very well be the end of the world.

“Launch in Three… Two… One!”

The final button was pushed, one of dozens of ballistic missiles stored on the island soon unleashed. In the distance, the officer could see hundreds more from the mainland fire, streaks of revenge aimed directly at the Dragon States.

“Alright, time to begin evacuation procedures, we’ve got to get everyone underground before they make another strike!” The commander ordered, their station now having done its work.

[New Dornalia]

Fort Apache, Silverdale

The mountain environs of Fort Apache greeted Admiral Krueger with a cold, foreboding chill, as he witnessed the ever present parade of Dornalian planes and spacecraft moving to and fro from a balcony near his office. The good Admiral had an ever present companion--a piping hot mug of what he called "Mystrian Coffee." One part "Varangian Roast" coffee--a potent roast made in honor of the Varangian mercenaries that invented it--a shot of Rohanian Whiskey, whole milk, and a bit of maple sugar to cut the edge a bit.

He'd need that sweetness going into the morning. Oh sure, the Admiral's time here in Mystria had been marked by all manner of wars and rumors of wars, in the name of the Dornalian Open Door Policy. First came the Winter War, and the titanic struggles in the South Pole. Then the Grogarian War, and the ongoing Lend-Lease efforts to assist the Malgraveans and Kouralians blinded by an anti-tech field as he learned to appreciate ERIS's cleverness in building armies overnight using Dornalian tax dollars--such as the unit of Commonwealth dragonriders that did a morning flypast past his window, or the crates of AR-2 copies built by Ruger and other supplies that were airlifted from Fort Apache to the one part of the MARC that still had functioning airports.

None of that would even come close to the situation he was learning about now though. The news had come hard and fast from his second, Mr. Skinner. All of it bad, and all of it explaining why the Silverdaleans at Fort Apache were busier than ever and in a somber mood.

He heard the reports, all filtered through the banal bureaucratic gaussian lens of sensor scanners and intelligence estimates. WMDs fired upon Rintyar, with estimated casualties in the millions if not more and PKE signatures that defied belief. Retaliatory strikes by the Great Civilization and the DSA itself. The former unleashed surgical strikes upon defenses. The latter unleashed the kind of fury only dreamed about by the pre-Apocalypse military planners' wildest and darkest imaginations, raining down certain death upon a nation no doubt being considered as hostis Mystriani generis. Enemy of All Mystria, in Krueger's dog Latin. Either way, the body counts were rising and peace was rapidly becoming a distant memory--assuming it was even remembered after the Grogar and Winter War situations to begin with.

Sipping his coffee, he then sighed, and wondered if this is what the men and women of Earth saw as the Apocalypse came for them. He was on the sidelines right now, but given how his inbox was blowing up with reports and requests for conference calls--a lot of them from Los Angeles--this was going to be a long day.

To that, Krueger said to Mr. Skinner, "Lieutenant Skinner, place Mystria Command on high alert, inform our partners in the Crown Alliance, Dragon Sea Alliance, and the ERIS Chief of Station we're going to high alert mode, and to see if they need anything. Cancel all shore leaves and liberties for all personnel, stand by for orders from Los Angeles. I've got a lot of people to brief in five minutes-make sure those fucking IT people have my connection secure. The President, the Secretary of State, members of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, House Armed Services Committee, Joint Congressional Intelligence Committee, all the fucking alphabet soup agencies...you get the picture."

"Sure, Joe" came Skinner's exhausted reply. "Anything else?"

Looking at his cup, Krueger added, with a bit of sarcasm, "Oh, and ask the Rohanians and Malgraveans if they got any more whiskey."

[The Ctan]

T+ 1 Minute after DSA launches

A video message of Telissat Amris was sent to the Dragon Sea Alliance Headquarters, live but encrypted.

He looked predictably calm and unflappable, perhaps his avatar had been resting, perhaps he kept one for this purpose, perhaps the image was a ‘deepfake’ though what that meant when he was not truly a humanoid being was anyone’s guess.

“We have monitored your launches. They will make the situation worse. Through a process my advisors call ‘Soul Vore’ which we have seen before, we believe the mass killing of the Dragon States’ population will only empower the Wyrm Alduin to greater power than before.

“Abort your missiles, and we will replace the munitions expenditure for you. We are already preparing to invade the Dragon States directly. Do this and we will give those responsible, when we find them, to you for justice.

“If you cannot abort your missiles, inform us and we will attempt to intercept them.”

[Malgrave]

Government Crisis Centre, Epping, Malgrave

Since the reemergence of Grogar and his assault on the Research Colony, the crisis centre located underneath the government district in Epping was in constant use, with near-endless streams of information flowing in from Sinubis and Luban on everything from the state of current military operations to progress reports on efforts to secure the safe evacuation of the civilian population.

Typically, the room was quite noisy with conversations following in various parts of the room as politicians and civil servants discussed ways to respond to the rapidly evolving situation, however, a profound silence fell across the room upon reports of several catastrophic explosions across Rintyar as all those in the room contemplated the tragic loss of life that had just taken place.

Approximately twenty minutes later, the Prime Minister and a handful of cabinet officials entered the room, a result of the combination of the proximity of several government buildings to the crisis centre and the quick deployment of ancestral abilities, although, it was quite obvious that everyone apart from the Minister of Science & Engineering and Minister of State Security had been awoken to attend this emergency meeting.

It was the Prime Minister who broke the silence, “I need a clear and concise response to one question, what has happened?”

“Sheyana has been destroyed, Prime Minister, alongside several military facilities located across Rintyar,” Aurelia Wyrzykowski said, the Minister of State Security deciding to be as blunt as possible, her planned following remarks interrupted by the Deputy Prime Minister.

“How? Why? I doubt those attacking Rintyar would use such weapons as they don’t seek to rule over ruins,” Eliot said, the Foreign Minister deeply disturbed by the use of such a weapon

“Our current theory is that these targets were destroyed by a colossal magitech weapon launched from submarines belonging to the Dragon States, as for why? It is quite a bizarre course of action that doesn’t fall alongside the predictable route of a rational actor, however, due to reports that we’ve received from one Amelia Lowwe we have been able to determine a possible reason for the attacks beyond insanity and that is a desire for power.” Aurelia said

“Power? Nadzieja said incredulously, “It is highly likely that the Dragon States are about to be wiped off the face of the planet.”

“Correct, however, according to our reports the leadership of the Dragon States have never seriously cared about the safety of the people,” Aurelia replied, “Especially as they don’t just power their economy through the usage of those abhorrent ancestral energy soul gems but certain individuals within the Dragon States can even use it to empower themselves, so by attacking Sheyana and inciting the DSA to launch a retaliatory strike against population centres in the Dragon States they are essentially sacrificing their population to empower their leadership to a staggering degree.”

“In that case, it is our duty to inform the members of the Dragon Sea Alliance about the dangers of launching a retaliatory strike against population centres,” Nadzieja said turning even paler than usual, the Prime Minister still quite disturbed about the destruction of ancestral energy and loss of life, “Eliot, please send a message to the leadership of the DSA and their representatives outlining the dangers of their course of action.”

“Of course, Nadzieja,” Eliot said, the Foreign Minister already sending a message to her staff members to send such a message, a quick frown appearing on her face as she received quite a disturbing message in response.

“What is the matter?” Claudia said, the Minister of Science & Engineering finally becoming more aware of her surroundings

“I’ve just been informed that the Dragon Sea Alliance intends to launch a massive retaliatory strike against the Dragon State, apparently, they wished to reassure us that we are not the target of their fury,” Eliot stated, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

“In that case just have the following message sent to the WMD-capable members of the Dragon Sea Alliance and attach a copy of our report on the intelligence gathered from Alastrine during her travels with Amelia Lowwe,” Nadzieja said, “Dragon State destruction of Sheyana provocation to incite large retaliatory strike. Loss of life caused by overall destruction would empower Dragon State leadership through a process called Ancestral Energy Absorption, please abort any planned strikes.”

Eliot simply nodded, the Foreign Minister using the tools available to her through her MalTec Ascension to ensure that the message was sent to the respective nations.

HMNV Bulwark, Dragon Sea, Mystria

Rhee Min-Seo had lived a wholly uneventful life as an officer in the Royal Navy until 2015 when she became one of the few survivors of what became known afterwards as the Bastion incident, such, an event not only burdened her with several traumatic memories but it also gifted her with a series of strange new ancestral abilities that gave her the opportunity to travel across Altea and even to other planets in an effort to soothe her guilt over the role she had played in launching attacks against Altea and assist her homelands struggle against MIDD.

Grogar’s apparent return and the success of efforts to cure MIDD, however, had forced Min-Seo back into the Royal Navy where she now served as Corvette Captain of the Bulwark, an Admah-class attack submarine that was currently engaged in readiness exercises with the Glaristanti fleet.
“Comrade Captain?” a voice said breaking her from her thoughts, the Captain recognising it as belonging to her Sub-Lieutenant, Gregorio Marconi, “We just received an interesting message from the Glaristanti ships we are shadowing followed by a new series of orders from Aurora.”

“In the middle of an operation?” Min-Seo asked her brow rising automatically, “It must be serious, go ahead.”

“We have received instructions from the Glaristanti navy to withdraw to a position five kilometres from their current position, it looks like they are preparing to launch their ordinance,” Gregorio said,

“Very well,” Min-Seo said, rattling off a series of instructions to the crew stationed in the command centre to accomplish such a goal, the Corvette-Captain maintaining an aura of professionalism despite the uneasy feeling she felt as she associated the actions with what was likely occurring elsewhere in the region, “What of the orders from Aurora.”

“We have been instructed to seek out and destroy the submarine force of the Dragon States and any other naval assets that we encounter during our patrol,” Gregori said, the room becoming silent as the pieces were put together.

Min-Seo conveyed a new series of instructions to her crew, the Bulwark now heading to a region that naval intelligence had highlighted as an area of interest for potential engagements with the Dragon State fleet

“Sub-Lieutenant? Contact the rest of our squadron and start coordinating a proper hunt for these submarines,” Min-Seo said, “...oh and send a message back to Aurora, let's see if we can get data packages from our Dornalian and C’tani friends," the ship moving with renewed purpose as she finished speaking

[Dyste]

(OoC: Co-written with Legokiller, Glaristant and Rohane Alista)

Council Chamber, The Central Hall Building, DSA Artificial Island “Cornucopia”

The order had just been given; the missiles launched. Daisy slumped in her chair, resting her head on the table. Even for a calm, seasoned diplomat, the last twenty-five minutes had been panicky, stressful, and uncertain, but now the deed was done. Nothing anyone in this room could do could stop it now. Until a brief message appeared from, of all things, the leader of the supposed ‘Great Civilization’, causing Daisy to lift her head and give a wordless look to the rest.

Melux had hoped to have a chance to go back to bed after being awake for over twenty hours straight, but now, this. “... great, just great… of course it was some sort of trick by them. It is bad enough they appear to have teleporting missiles, and now apparently they want to be bombed?”

“It has to be bullshit,” Daisy said softly, speaking in response to Melux and ignoring the annoyingly smug looking Telissat. “After all, if it was real, surely the C’tani would just intervene, instead of pretending we have choices here. Plus… soul vore? What does that even MEAN?”

"I am sorry, but this…is just absurd. He does realize we can't exactly recall a nuclear strike once ordered, right? That's assuming this isn't some glorified joke…"Amalia said, letting out a loud sigh as she looked toward the screen, "Plus what in the nine levels of the abyss is Soul Vore?"

“I…” Melux considered this. “I… do not care for the term, personally, but I think I do at least understand the idea of it. Alduin would be able to absorb the souls of those who died in these strikes, becoming stronger, so they in essence wished for us to retaliate in such a manner… gah, what are we supposed to do about that? We cannot simply wait around and let them attack us, but we cannot attack them either?”

“What?” Locua gave a stern look at the group. “This Alduin can devour souls and become stronger? I want a fast explanation as I’d not allow this alliance to create a Calamity at our hands.”

"Don't look to me," Daisy replied. "As everyone is oh so aware, I don't even have a soul."

“Look,” Melux facepalmed, “The fact of the matter is, I do not think any of your nations can even abort your weapons after they have been launched, right? In which case, the only option for that would be to let them do it in that case?”

"Then they should just do it because they think it's right," Daisy scoffed. "They're bucking responsibility… and no, I don't think any of the Rohanian missiles can be stopped."

"Aye, once the order is given….It is impossible to recall the missiles or stop them, short of destroying them. Honestly, I would prefer proof this "Soul Vore" claim before we trust the C'tani…but I doubt we will get in time." Amalia said, shaking her head.

“Evidence? Then we’ve a short time span before those weapons hit the Dragon States. Otherwise we need to make a decisive decision.” Locua said.

“Right…” Melux raised his hand. “I am not certain our Rintyari representative is able to perform her duties currently, and I will remind you all, abstaining is an option if you wish to defer your vote. In which case, should we let the… Great Civilization… deal with the missiles in the way they see fit?”

"They play politics with billions of lives so they can say we fucked up either way," Daisy said. "Let them decide what to do. We've already voted, anyways."

"We have already made an irrevocable decision. If the Ctan wish to do something about it at this late stage, then that is up to them." Amalia remarked, shaking her head at Locua's comments.

“Then our answer is yes.” Locua spoke up. “Send the word at once to the C’tan.”

Melux for a moment actually smiled slightly; he fully intended to shoulder this one himself by allowing all of them to abstain and let him alone take the burden of what was to happen, but he knew them all too well. “... in that case…” he said to the image of Telissat, “Do what you need to in order to prevent this catastrophe that we seem unable to do by ourselves. If you wish to blame anyone for this rash decision, I will tender my resignation as the chair of this board, but I leave the rest to you.”

“You will absolutely not be taking this fall alone, Melux,” Daisy scolded the draconid. “We have done only what our own regulations and beliefs bade us do. Your nation doesn’t even have any of the weapons! If one of us must be blamed, then blame me. It was Rohane Alista who pushed for total destruction.”

"Melux, sit down and shut up. I am sorry, but you will not be taking the fall for a choice made by the rest of us…. especially not when neither you or Dyste bear any blame for this." Amalia said, admonishing the draconid, "We each acted in accordance with our nations' respective doctrines, as well as our personal beliefs. None of that is your fault nor does it merit you resigning from your post. So kindly, sit down and let us face the consequences together…shall we?"

“Honey…” Locua frowned. “Please don’t do anything rash. We can speak about this out of session.”

“Okay, okay…” Melux sighed, “I understand already. Anyways, you have our answer there; do what you must to stop all this… and I think I am done for now…” he slumped in his chair. Retirement did seem nice after all this…

[The Ctan]

The Extremely Sharp Rock’s weapons platforms were retasked. The ballistic missiles were reaching the end of their first boost phase, thousands of them. The weapons systems were as patient as non-sapient things could be, altering their orientation, their downward facing arrays of weapons locking on as the region curved beneath them and the western Mystrian horizon became their new target.

They fired, once, twice, thrice, shifting their weapons arrays to new targets. Where they hit, they patterned the weapons for data storage, vapourising them but storing an imprint of their designs in their own software that would allow them to later create new weapons based on the same imprints; how much the Dragon Sea Alliance would trust such weapons was anyone’s guess, but they would be faithful reproductions.

They engaged target after target, but their mothership was still engaged in suppression of the planet, until the platforms reported a hit rate that was not sufficient to their task.

The ship turned its own weapons on the weapons wave, and maniple fields, pulling them toward it in tractor beams. Orbital mechanics meant that such a forward alteration would shift the weapons into an orbital path, and it tagged them for its comrades in other orbits around the planet.

The Extremely Sharp Rock’s orbit would take it over the horizon from Alduinium soon, its shots - now from its dorsal side - were already coming in at a steep angle. Another ship was joining the engagement though.

This one had a name that managed to be even more frivolous, We Tend To Be Nicer When We Are Not Mean.

---

Secure Fleet Communications
Disclosure-Class ISA-9, High Vigilance Chronosense Stream, Near-Gaia Engagement Elements - Mystria Region

---

<We Tend To Be Nicer When We Are Not Mean, Harvest Ship> Wotcha cous’, my turn now.

<Extremely Sharp Rock, Harvest Ship> Moderation in engagement is warranted, keep civilian damage to a sensible minimum.

<We Tend To Be Nicer When We Are Not Mean, Harvest Ship> Way, way too boring. I have a orbital denial A-MAT package with those missiles’ name on it.

<Extremely Sharp Rock, Harvest Ship> Asshole.

<Telissat Amris, Harvest Ship, Triarch, GC-SMCOM (Mictlan Deployment)> Do not cascade every satellite over Mystria. I don’t want to have to apologise to every one of our allies here.

<We Tend To Be Nicer When We Are Not Mean, Harvest Ship> Aww, but daaaad. I never get to play with all the toys. Fine. Engaging. With guns. Like a pleb.

<Handcounter, Raider (Martian Deployment)> At least you are having fun. So. Bored.

<Shikesh, Raider> It’s the necrons who’re going to be having all the fun here.

---

The Nicer When Not Mean engaged in the same way as its predecessor, slow, steady, but neat and precise.

But the smaller Shikesh was right. The time had come.

Telissat’s live communication to the DSA was visibly relieved, “I think you have done the right thing, and I think you did the right thing before too,” he said. “We will try to justify your faith in us. Thank you. This channel will remain open.”

Dathresh had been one of the following of the Messenger when the Starchange had come, she had been possessed of a mindless purity through the ages. She had been awakened in this epoch to discover that much that he had promised had been denied, much that had been promised had been delivered, and that the ancient enemy, the Enemy, was destroyed.

She had chosen to remain as a necron, and as the Great Civilization had formed around her, she had been a controller of dozens of bodies, as they had changed and altered. This newest one was only one, a towering necron Sentinel, the new form of the machines developed after the invasion of Altea, for occupation duties.

The imagine in the Ancestral Universe of preparing warriors for battle involved ritual and attendants. Dathresh had an attendant, a beetle-backed tomb spyder with its row of glimmering eyes, as it made adjustments to her form.

She wore the bright blue of the Thurasid dynasty on the fabrics that were attached to her hulking form, and atop it, amulets of mana dispersal and confinement, other items built into her shoulders to protect her from more specific enemy attacks.

She let the machine adjust her, and watched it hover along to the next in her unit, Kraelan, who was of the second Translation, unlike her, she saw his natural form superimposed over the warform, another layer.

“I had feared we would not get to fight this war,” she said.

She stepped down from the niche in which her warform had been stored, umbilicals breaking away from her back and writhing. They were part of a circle of similar forms, their attendant drone, and smaller scarabs, scuttling around to maintain them, each necron had a dimensional appendix, in which various tools and weapons were held, and she inventoried these, calling an ablative projector into her hands, testing it, and the energised axe bayonet into being.

Given where they were going, there was a small alteration to be made, though, and a seal-bearer scarab approached each of them in turn, checking the items set against their weapons, these were magic weapon fusion seals, small contained devices that made a weapon to which they were attached function against the undead with greater effect, to disjoin magical protections, to slay incorporeal beings, and many other traits. These had laid in place since Telissat had decreed that the Alduinites would be considered foes, but Dathresh was pleased to get the opportunity to use them.

“I hoped we would,” Kraelan said, as they gathered in a circle. Augmented reality images took over around them, projecting the reconnaissance scarab views of their target, a police station within the Alduinite homelands, and the people around it.

“Displace in three, two, one,” one of their squad called, and the world around them, from the depths of the Seroi Mountain Complex, was replaced with Keizaal.

They were not seeking to engage the armies of Alduin, for that was a job for orbital bombardment, instead they were moving to take control of water distribution, major chemical works, police stations, and similar hubs from which a massacre of the civilian population could be planned. Pylons were emplaced too, to defend against missile strikes from remaining military elements.

A Necron Sentinel was a daunting foe for an insurgent or a police force, towering and metallic, without fleshborne weaknesses, they could emit auditory shocks, blinding strobe pulses, microwave emissions that made flesh feel as if it was on fire, and more. A single Necron Sentinel could disperse vast crowds. Conventional smallarms were functionally worthless against them, liable to skitter off their shells like raindrops. Even for those armed with anti-tank weapons they were a perilous threat, for they were supported by clouds of scarabs that reconnoitred threats for them, and their own vehicles and munitions.

“Lay down your weapons and surrender!” Dalthresh called, fixing her weapon on the building ahead, her voice was amplified to the volume of a roaring engine, and she spoke in the local language, but she did not wait, her weapon casting out a blast that disintegrated the frontage around one substantial chunk of a wall her subconscious targeting systems identified as non load bearing, enough to walk in through an unexpected route.

[Imeriata]

The Under the water boat Vengeance Shark

The submarine went quietly through the waters, orders had been received and they were now just standing waiting for new ones that would launch their nuclear armaments would the federation itself be attacked. Right now most of the crew were at stations and the captain and first mate stood ready in the AIC. The rituals were ready to be carried out, a seaman stood ready with the blood banner that indicated that the rules of chivalric warfare were no longer in effect.

The ritual knives made out of silver had been produced and were now held by the first mate and the captain as both stood and watched the large wax seals engraved with the royal heraldry that kept the switches secure. They would need to break the seals and turn those switches would the order come. Not a man said anything, not a single sound was said as everyone waited, the radio would flip to life soon again and the orders would come in, either would they return to normal. Or worse would those seals be cut open, the switches would be turned and nuclear weapons would be launched. All around did the crew sit still and wait.

---

The Absolute Royal Federation, Imeriata Proper, Imerbürg, The royal palace

Around the palace one could hear the heavy bootsteps as officers ran back and forth. Maps were quickly pulled out and lines drawn on them, computers flickered in the background as the high king looked over the walls of one of the several command rooms that dotted the royal palace. Nuclear strike positions had been put up, vectors had been drawn, and figures representing the nukes could be seen moving along them confirmed by federal own radar where they could be confirmed.
"MOVE CONTACT DESIGNATED FIREY BANE ON CONFIRMED TRAJECTORY BY 2 TRAVELROADS!" Someone shouted as the tiny wooden model represented a missile was moved.
"STILL NOT IN DANGER OF FEDERAL TERRITORY! KEEPING THE SHIP OF THE LINE DEATHBRINGER, GOOSEMIGHT, AND THE QUEEN REAVER ALERTED!" The response came as the ships that were in position to intercept the missile also was moved. All around the command centre was chaos as adjutants and officers ran back and forth.
"NUCLEAR SELFPROPELLED SHELL COMMAND REPORTS THAT THE FLAMETREE SHELLS RIGHTEOUS ANNIHILATION, THE FAT DUCKY, AND THE LAST ARGUMENT ARE READY AND THE SEALS WILL BE BROKEN WOULD COMMAND BE GIVEN, TARGETS ARE AIMED AT THE REALMS OF THE DRAGON KING AND THAT OF RINTMARK!" an officer cried out as more and more confirmations rang in, would one rocket be an attack on the federation, the federation would respond in kind, as was the way of war and confusion and worry ran deeply along them, in some cases were it only reasonable, they tracked missiles on well laid out vectors, in other they watched and tried to calculate. Any motion was a new blur of alarm and barking orders. Was it a new course, or was they turning straight to the federation and her fleets or armies?

"SHELL DESIGNATED BLOOD BRINGER VEERING OF EXPECTED COURSE! THE PHEASANT CLASS NOBLE WHITE IS TARGETING! SUPPORT SHIPS ARE MOVING IN TO SUPPORT! TARGETING IN PROCESS!" More roars came as one of the wooded missiles were moved away from the line on the map.

A phone was quickly grabbed and a phone call was made, even from here could the high king hear the voice in the singing like Imerian tongue make loud and angry complaints, the phone was a direct line to the other side, used to clear out mistakes in cases like this.
"THIS IS THE COMMAND OF THE KRIEGSMAKT OF HIS MOST BLESSED AND ROYAL HIGHNESS, blessings upon him and his house eternal, WE ONCE AGAIN REQUEST TO HAVE THE FLIGHTPATHS OF THOSE SELF PROPELLED SHELLS! WE HAVE AT LEAST ONE CONTACT WE ARE CURRENTLY TARGETING AND IF WE ARE NOT GIVEN THE FLIGHTPATH WOULD WE BE REQUIRED TO INTERCEPT DUE TO UNCERTAINTY WHERE IT WILL LAND! PLEASE DO NOT ESCALATE THIS BEYOND WHERE THIS SITUATION IS! I REPEAT, PLEASE WE ONCE AGAIN REQUEST THE FLIGHTPATHS OF ALL SELF PROPELLED SHELLS LAUNCHED OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO SHOOT SOME OF THEM DOWN!"

"My royal highness, the hostages just arrived, they sent their heir to the throne and she has currently been placed with the other children at the court and we are currently setting aside room worthy of such a guest!" A woman in the robes of the royal foreign relations advisory reported.
"Good, make sure that she is well taken care of, everything she needs is to be provided when this situation is handled shall we give her an appropriate audience as is appropriate for someone of her status!" The high king responded with a sigh, so much to think of, so much to do. The diplomat on the other hand simply nodded and withdrew as he went back to observe the scene before him.
"SELF PROPELLED SHELL DESIGNATED AS WAR MISTRESS MOVES ACCORDING TO THE PROVIDED FLIGHT PATH, MOVE BY TWO TRAVELROADS!"

"ORBITAL STRIKE CONFIRMED! SHELLS TAKEN OUT! AIR IS ONCE AGAIN CLEAR! I REPEAT AIR IS ONCE AGAIN CLEAR!" Someone roared, the chaos stopped. Reports once more came flying in confirming this and calm and security once more returned to the command bunker.
"I suppose I ought to go talk to our guest while she remains here!" the high king sighed to himself as he rose up while the maps started to be cleaned up and various wooden missile miniatures were removed from the tables as the federation once more went back to a more peaceful state.

---

Official communiqué from the absolute royal federation of Imeriata and her realms

From: His royal Highness Primus rex Stjärnkhrone XIV silferföd by the grace of the gods high king of the absolute royal federation and divinely appointed ruler and unifier of the Scanderan races, the descendant of the first Imerian high kings especially and foremost Emanuel the first, Son of Oskar II, the son of Primus the XIIIth, the son of Emanuel the VIIth, the son of Gustav the IInd, the son of Anders the IIId, the carrier of the royal sword first carried by the demigod Belrion son of Bel, vanquisher of evil, Champion of life and light, defender of the living and vanquisher of the dead, liberator of slaves, breaker of chains, the protector of the federal crown jewels, the holder of the sword of Halmir and carrier of the enlightened torch of civilisation, patriarch of the noble house auf stjänkhrone, carrier of better and more important titles than the space Russians and the king of Old Tyrannia, Chief of chiefs, Shan of shans, Monarch of monarchs, Prince of princes, Crowned in steel, fire, and flowers. Flame of all flames, protector of the faith of the chronicles and the city of the burning rose and the arch cleric, leader of ritual and sacrifice, chosen of the fierce unconquerable sun and crowned in starlight, mortal protector of the faith of the two faced goddess and defender of her temples and chosen by all gods big and small. As well as the protector of the free city states of Ta’ka sha’mirias well as defender of Hungary and her regions and the realms as king of Imeriata and as such the king of salt, forest, river, and mountain, defender and autocrat of flodmarkerna, Sundet, Söderang, Söderberga, Innahafsarna, Aster öarna, Vast öarna, Sydvedian, Storfloden and the river king, king of Vedian and the duke protector of the mountains, Eple Halvøyn and lavlandet, king of Erathia and as that the duke of Ankea metsä and ruler of the thousand lakes, the lord and defender of Länsisola and Etelä-kentät, king of Karmanjaka over the ancient rivers river, from the ancient mountains mountain, king of Northern Taranakan, king of Izalta, king of Nordomark, and king of Andervel but also the righteous and lawful king of New felandia and the king emperor of Dajing, the duke of Sydvinland, Northern Venezue, Sthalinge, Gustavsland and Sjöland, The Shah of the crown states of Ta’ka sha’miri and the Padishah of all of Ta’ka sha’miri, The lord regent of the colony of Nova Imeriata, Blåland, Angland, the two peninsulas of Tvaude and of Somalmark, The Grand duke of Suderland, The prince of Isarna, Salmo, judeheim and Khan of Salonia, Sultan king of Ramir, the Emir of Sandland and Jarl of Salywa and the free city of Krakborg and Styrfastning, defender and lord of the city of Arkham and Sirmera, and further more the ruler of the federal terretories of Vastermark and the northern iceplains and as such high chief of Isfalten and keeper of Sfartmård , By the right of the constitution of the protectorate leopridaeria prince defender of leopridaeria, the high lord of Kalmer, Salmoborg and Gaseborg, Lord of the countless cities and lands under his most blessed and righteous rule, the lord defender of Imerbürg, Coparborg, Vesiki, Sjöborg, Afrikas fastning, Erikasborg, Nova Imerbürg, Wein, Udeborg, Angborg, Ambir, Nya Landborg, Nymarksborg, Sorgerstad, Anderborg, Nordanstad, Kängruborg, Sthalstad, Kängruborg, Judeborg, Moskstad, Daji, Sajing, Ademarksborg, Salem, Söderhamn, Öborga, Dragograd, Gapur, Bor-zut and Táibĕi but as well the Enlightened Emperor of Nicksyllvania and as such the King of Leazus, Emperor of Helman, Grand Prince of Zeth, Emperor of Japan, Emperor of Jungria, Duke and king of Hornet-Kereburos, Despot of the Great North, Grand Duke of the Western Badlands, Master of the Southern Marshes, and the king of Dragkon and the wielder of the Holy Swords, the Demon Sword Kaos, the Holy Sword Nikkou, and the Greatsword of the Empire, Nickiller, Great Protector of the Helman Wall and Majino Line, also by the right of his birth high marshal of the royal guard and the Imperial commander of the Imperial nicksyllvanian army, the grand commander of the federal order of the golden sword and the Nicksyllvanian order, the knight commander of the order of the golden cross and the order of Blåland, the lord commander of the colonial order, the high commander of the federal order of the silver rose and the order of Scandera, the Taranakan order and the Order of Vinland may his reign last until the end of time and may the empire and federation he rules stand even through the flames of the endtimes to protect all of his royal highness subjects.
To: The Dragon Sea Alliance.
Regarding: Current situation

---

On the behalf of our domains and with the current situation in mind do we in our magnificent glory write to you, we would bring both our words of sorrow, our thanks, and our harshest criticism.
At first would we of course offer our greatest sympathies for these most horrid attacks, and we can assure you that would it be requested is our domains willing to fight at your side to avenge this outrange and to strike down the foe of all that is good and holy in this world. This offer includes both or either the full use of our own military or supplying military equipment and food to your forces and homefronts to ensure that the war is won quickly.

We would also offer our thanks to those of you that agreed to our requests for hostages and that honoured our requests for flight paths, targets, and timetables for the launches. Such quick agreement to our reasonable request alleviated tensions and most certainly made these trying times much more easier and descaled what could easily have resulted in horrifying results would either of our sides make too many mistakes and rash actions.

In the same vein would we however also offer the most harshest criticism to some of your members that only gave us mere a list of targets and forced us to desperately hope that we had determined which launch points were aimed at what cities. Such coyness with information when such terrible weapons are in use is utterly unacceptable and we would demand an official apology for those of your states that were so irresponsible with the lives of everyone in the region. To prevent such actions from happening again would we also like to negotiate a treaty to normalize the rituals that ought to be accepted when either us, or your alliance launches a nuclear attack against a third party to ensure that tense situations like these that we recently experienced would not lead to far worse situations!

---

Signed and approved by:
His royal Highness Primus rex Stjärnkhrone XIV silferföd by the grace of the gods high king of the absolute royal federation and divinely appointed ruler and unifier of the Scanderan races, the descendant of the first Imerian high kings especially and foremost Emanuel the first, Son of Oskar II, the son of Primus the XIIIth, the son of Emanuel the VIIth, the son of Gustav the IInd, the son of Anders the IIId, the carrier of the royal sword first carried by the demigod Belrion son of Bel, vanquisher of evil, Champion of life and light, defender of the living and vanquisher of the dead, liberator of slaves, breaker of chains, the protector of the federal crown jewels, the holder of the sword of Halmir and carrier of the enlightened torch of civilisation, patriarch of the noble house auf stjänkhrone, carrier of better and more important titles than the space Russians and the king of Old Tyrannia, Chief of chiefs, Shan of shans, Monarch of monarchs, Prince of princes, Crowned in steel, fire, and flowers. Flame of all flames, protector of the faith of the chronicles and the city of the burning rose and the arch cleric, leader of ritual and sacrifice, chosen of the fierce unconquerable sun and crowned in starlight, mortal protector of the faith of the two faced goddess and defender of her temples and chosen by all gods big and small. As well as the protector of the free city states of Ta’ka sha’mirias well as defender of Hungary and her regions and the realms as king of Imeriata and as such the king of salt, forest, river, and mountain, defender and autocrat of flodmarkerna, Sundet, Söderang, Söderberga, Innahafsarna, Aster öarna, Vast öarna, Sydvedian, Storfloden and the river king, king of Vedian and the duke protector of the mountains, Eple Halvøyn and lavlandet, king of Erathia and as that the duke of Ankea metsä and ruler of the thousand lakes, the lord and defender of Länsisola and Etelä-kentät, king of Karmanjaka over the ancient rivers river, from the ancient mountains mountain, king of Northern Taranakan, king of Izalta, king of Nordomark, and king of Andervel but also the righteous and lawful king of New felandia and the king emperor of Dajing, the duke of Sydvinland, Northern Venezue, Sthalinge, Gustavsland and Sjöland, The Shah of the crown states of Ta’ka sha’miri and the Padishah of all of Ta’ka sha’miri, The lord regent of the colony of Nova Imeriata, Blåland, Angland, the two peninsulas of Tvaude and of Somalmark, The Grand duke of Suderland, The prince of Isarna, Salmo, judeheim and Khan of Salonia, Sultan king of Ramir, the Emir of Sandland and Jarl of Salywa and the free city of Krakborg and Styrfastning, defender and lord of the city of Arkham and Sirmera, and further more the ruler of the federal terretories of Vastermark and the northern iceplains and as such high chief of Isfalten and keeper of Sfartmård , By the right of the constitution of the protectorate leopridaeria prince defender of leopridaeria, the high lord of Kalmer, Salmoborg and Gaseborg, Lord of the countless cities and lands under his most blessed and righteous rule, the lord defender of Imerbürg, Coparborg, Vesiki, Sjöborg, Afrikas fastning, Erikasborg, Nova Imerbürg, Wein, Udeborg, Angborg, Ambir, Nya Landborg, Nymarksborg, Sorgerstad, Anderborg, Nordanstad, Kängruborg, Sthalstad, Kängruborg, Judeborg, Moskstad, Daji, Sajing, Ademarksborg, Salem, Söderhamn, Öborga, Dragograd, Gapur, Bor-zut and Táibĕi but as well the Enlightened Emperor of Nicksyllvania and as such the King of Leazus, Emperor of Helman, Grand Prince of Zeth, Emperor of Japan, Emperor of Jungria, Duke and king of Hornet-Kereburos, Despot of the Great North, Grand Duke of the Western Badlands, Master of the Southern Marshes, and the king of Dragkon and the wielder of the Holy Swords, the Demon Sword Kaos, the Holy Sword Nikkou, and the Greatsword of the Empire, Nickiller, Great Protector of the Helman Wall and Majino Line, also by the right of his birth high marshal of the royal guard and the Imperial commander of the Imperial nicksyllvanian army, the grand commander of the federal order of the golden sword and the Nicksyllvanian order, the knight commander of the order of the golden cross and the order of Blåland, the lord commander of the colonial order, the high commander of the federal order of the silver rose and the order of Scandera, the Taranakan order and the Order of Vinland may his reign last until the end of time and may the empire and federation he rules stand even through the flames of the endtimes to protect all of his royal highness subjects.

[Rohane Alista]

Written with Dyste

Ana curled up on the bed, legs to her chest, arms around them, staring at a white wall in the room the Imerians had prepared in the royal palace in Imerburg, silent. She sniffed, then fell silent again, ignoring everything around her. The little girl was still dressed the same as she had been when she was woken up back in Calihain nearly fifteen hours ago, a gray sleep shirt with a cartoon horse on it and matching shorts. She reached out behind her for a moment, finding a plushy of the same cartoony horse on her shirt, a brown one in golden armor, grabbing it and pulling it over to her chest, where she hugged it tightly.

A few moments later, Marron entered the room. The darker-skinned woman with white hair wore a sapphire blue dress; it had been a long time since she had to do something remotely like this, but she knew there was a time and place to complain about things, and Ana was her primary concern at the moment. “Hey, Ana,” she said softly to the girl, “Can I sit down?”

The girl sniffed again, scooting a little closer to the wall, though the large poster bed already had quite enough room for them both. She squeezed the plushy tighter as she moved, making it look almost split in half.

“Hey…” Marron sighed, sitting on the bed. “C’mon, Grandma’s here, Ana… I know it’s scary…” she tried not to frown, she hated the fact this even had to happen. Why involve a little girl like this at all in some war? These people were very sensible not to mistreat her at least… “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

"Wanna go home," was the quiet reply from the rumpled child. Ana looked at Marron, then right back at the wall, trying to fold in on herself even tighter as a few tears escaped.

Marron took Ana into a hug, patting her head, “I know, I know… I wanna go home too, Ana. And I’ll make sure you get home, okay? You’re being a good, brave girl right now, you know that?” She wished she knew whose bright idea this all was; making a Snowtear upset was never a good idea.

Anastasia made a small, practically indecipherable noise when Marron hugged her, but soon wiggled deeper into the older woman's arms. "Why did they send me out, grandma?"

“Ugh, I wish I understood better myself,” Marron shook her head, “I think this whole thing is stupid! … but I think the idea was that this country wanted to make sure we didn’t hurt them, and they didn’t hurt us.”

"But why?" Ana turned a little, letting Marron see she was quietly crying. "I don' wanna hurt anyone, grandma."

“I know, Ana, I know…” Marron sniffed a bit herself, trying to wipe away her descendant’s tears. “I don’t wanna either, okay? But I’ll be here with you the whole way. You know I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, right? Grandma’s really strong, after all.”

Ana nodded, flipping all the way onto her other side and hugging her grandma, holding her as tightly as the little girl could. “You’re strong and nice, grandma,” the girl sniffed, then tried to give Marron her plushy. “Bronnie will make it safe too!”

“Of course she will,” Marron chuckled, taking the horse plushie, “A great knight always protects the princess, after all. Plus I’m sure the other kids here are nice enough, too, if you wanna see them.”

“No,” Ana pouted. “Only want grandma and Bronnie.”

Marron sighed, “Then maybe you wanna have a lil’ walk with us? Bronnie will protect us, Ana.”

“... no,” the child replied. “Wanna hug grandma and stay here,” she proved her point by trying, and failing, to squeeze Marron, then sniffling as she actually looked at the room for the first time. Unsurprisingly, the wall was covered in various tapestries and book shelves, depicting historical Imerian heroes and tales, but what actually caught her attention were the drapes bunched at each corner of the bed. “Grandma, why does the bed have a sheet?”

“Um,” Marron honestly wasn’t sure about that herself. “Maybe that’s just how they like making beds here? I don’t think I’ve ever been here, so I dunno, Ana.” She felt a little annoyed, to be honest; so many skills and talents she had, and yet here she seemed unable to answer a simple question. “Hm, how about I read some stories to you, then?” She suggested, looking at the bookshelves.

“Stories about Bronnie?” Ana asked, letting go of Marron but not the plushy. “Or about princesses? Or about dragons?”

“Hm…” something came to Marron’s mind, “Oh, I can tell you about a dragon princess who was taken to a faraway land by a dashing prince, and had a pink knight from her parents’ homeland who appeared to protect her.”

Ana nodded, finally sitting up. “Dragons have princesses? Do I get to meet one?”

“Oh, someday I think you will, Ana,” Marron said, a smile forming on her lips, “I happen to know a few myself. Maybe if you’re good here, I’ll introduce you to them, okay?”

“Yes grandma!” Ana nodded vigorously, then stopped for a moment. “Is a knight gonna protect me, grandma? Cause I got taken to a… farway land?”

“Of course, Ana,” Marron said, “Isn’t that what Bronnie’s here for? She’ll always protect the princess. And… well, grandma will always protect you, Ana, right?”

“Ok grandma,” Ana replied, yawning a little. “Can you tell me about the dragon princess? Did the prince princessnap her?”

“Oh, no, she was charmed by the dashing prince, if you can believe that. She came from a land where she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to, even though she was good at a lot of things. But then, one day, she went on a journey to this land, and met the young prince. On the surface he seemed very strict and no fun, but the dragon princess found out he was actually nicer on the inside. He helped her learn to do more things, while the dragon princess helped him have more fun. They were… very happy together…”

“The prince was mean at first?” Ana asked with a frown, sounding confused. “So the dragon princess made the prince a good guy?... did he become good cause he fell in love with her?”

“... I don’t think he was mean more than he hadn’t really opened up before,” Marron said. “But… I’d like to think you’re right. But the prince also made the dragon nicer too, so she cared about more people than just herself and her family.”

Ana hugged Bronnie. “So was the knight the bad guy? He came to split up the prince and the dragon but they were in love?”

“Oh, nononono, the knight was a good guy too!” Marron had to clarify; her sister would never forgive her if she painted him as a villain. “He came to the land at the behest of the dragon’s father in order to protect her from the evil duke who was trying to take over the prince’s land. But the prince fell in love with the dragon princess, and together they stopped the duke!”

“Evil duke?” Ana asked, her eyes widening. “Like Duke Diego in Horsie Heroes!” The little girl said, apparently getting into the story now, lifting Bronnie up. “He almost defeated Bronnie! Was the evil duke that strong?”

“Duke Diego, huh…” Marron chuckled a bit at that one; maybe they pulled that from history. “Yeah, he was pretty strong, but the dragon princess and the prince weren’t alone. They had lots of friends, like a warrior princess from the land the dragon grew up in, some more knights with the prince, a kitty fighter, and lots of other heroes, they all worked together to stop the duke from taking the land from the prince.”

“And then the dragon princess and the prince got married, right?” Ana asked, starting to grin as she leaned forward. “When the heroes beat Duke Diego, Marquess Mareon got to marry Jarl Jaki!”

“Actually, yes, that’s exactly what happened!” Marron said, before realizing… Mareon, really? Really!? “... erm, yeah, they did! And they lived…” she looked around at the room, “... happily ever after.”

Ana frowned, tilting her head a little as she hugged Marron. “Grandma, why’d you get sad? The story has a happy ending!”

“Y-yeah…” Marron wiped away a tear, not of Ana’s this time but of her own. “It did, didn’t it? Because the dragon princess always had her prince around, to support each other and keep them both at their best. That’s part of what love is, Ana.”

Ana still seemed confused, but put Bronnie in Marron’s hand and hugged her. “I don’ really get it, grandma, but I’m sorry if the story made you sad…”

“... no, no, it’s okay, Ana,” Marron said. “I needed to tell you about that, I’ve been keeping a lot of it to myself, and it’s always good to tell stories to others like that. After all, Horsie Heroes teaches you good lessons too!”

“Yeah! Like never trust Duke Diego! And, um, it’s ok to tell your friends when you need help!” Ana said, scrunching her face a little. “Hehe, grandma, your name sounds like Marquess Mareons!”

“Heehee, it does, doesn’t it?” Marron smiled. “Maybe they heard my name and based that character on it, or it might just be a coincidence. Who knows?”

“Well yeah, cause you’re a queen, grandma, not a Marquess!” Ana nodded. “Totally different!” She yawned, cuddling up to Marron. “Grandma, did the knight do a good job protecting the princess?”

“Oh, of course!” Marron said. “He was quite the reckless one, but was very loyal. Also fashionable, he always wore the finest outfits while protecting his princess.”

“Like a boy Rolina!” Ana said, resting her head against Marron’s arm. “Rolina is always super happy… and charges in first… she’s almost as cool as Bronnie…”

Marron laughed, “Oh yeah, that sounds about right. Also those red and green knights too, I thought they were cool too, but I always got their names mixed up…”

“The red one is Gerald, and he’s soooo proper,” Ana responded, closing her eyes. “And the green one is Bertie… he’s Bronnie’s best friend, but then they kissed at the end of… last season!...”

“Ooooooh, we’ll have to see what happens next, then!” Marron said. “So be a good girl on this visit and we’ll be able to watch next season together!”

“Yes granma…” Ana said, slumping a bit as fell asleep on her guardian.

Marron patted Ana’s head, before setting her down on the bed, making sure the plush was still in the princess’s arms, “Sleep well, Ana. Hopefully this’ll be over soon…”

[Alduinium]

Vahzen had to admit to herself that even she didn’t quite expect a strike to come this quickly.

Perhaps she had misjudged the Mystrians’ thirst for blood, perhaps she had merely expected their more stringent strategic systems to take longer to agree upon an attack. Regardless, it did not matter.

She sat on the bridge of what was now her submarine, its crew enthralled into her total subservience.

It was a dreary machine, built with the aim of total silence and annihilation all the same. A fully cloaked Dragon Priest could only barely stand, such were its constraints.

"Captain, what do our sensors show?" She spoke, uninterested in the deeper terminology these sailors clinged to when their minds were unshackled.

"Multiple strikes aimed at the Dragon States, situation critical."

"Excellent. Unleash your remaining strategic payload on my following targets, and return to Alkhiana. I will have need of you there."

As she presented her coordinates, a brief pause hit the captain.

"Master… please confirm?"

It seemed even in his total mental enslavement, some part of his former self still remained, able to resist with one final token sentence.

"Confirmed. Fire at will."

"Affirmative. Warheads primed and ready to fire at your targets. We will await your return at Alkhiana.”

Indeed, it would have been beyond impossible to trace them back to that cursed place, for only a scant few souls knew of its secrets, of how it kept itself hidden from the greater world.

***

Tizoc woke up with a stinging headache, not uncommon given his general stress at any given time. His nap lasted no more than twenty minutes, the neko choosing not to waste time

He was hidden away in one of the many hidden caches that the Children of Xotec hid in any sort of isolated locations, far from most reasonable retaliation, hidden from the view of most flying drones.

He could already feel the ground rumbling, the feeling of some manner of heavy weaponry striking.

And yet, he could tell it was something different than the usual strike into a discovered hideout. There was a significantly greater payload at play, at least if he could feel it from here.

He wasn’t alone, he never is alone, for there is still some safety in numbers.

A small cadre, in theory guards, in practice problem solvers, surrounded him. Most of them were Ocelotl, though at least one was of a Hiluxian complexity, and another was not an Ocelotl at all, but an elf from the outlying islands of Rintyar.

“I’m going to guess that’s not one of ours, is it?” Tizoc spoke with a tired gaze at the horizon. In the distance, the city of Xoteca, the city upon which Catedonia was birthed, stood over a lake built many centuries ago by the earliest of Kings.

Streaks of fire flashed through the sky, occasionally hitting the ground, oftentimes flying past the city, at such a distance, it was hard to see what effect they were making, though many of these streaks also burned in the sky.

“I… believe, the Rohanians are striking Dragon States military forces in…” The Rintyari in his group froze, her face unusually worried.

“A Dragon States ship unleashed its payload on Rintyar. Millions dead.” the Hiluxian spoke more bluntly, speaking as he stroked his beard.

“What? No, they’re not- they wouldn’t-”

Tizoc was genuinely unsure what to make of such madness. The Dragon States were normally content to stomp on those it conquered, but did it genuinely believe it could take on the Mystrians?

With that, he turned to the Rintyari in his midst.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, we have a job to do, we can worry about that later. Do yo have enough forces to do what we set out to do here?"

"With this much attention, I'm not sure..."

***

The police station was a shell of itself when the Sentinel arrived, much of its personnel already located throughout the city in a feeble attempt to maintain order.

The few that remained drew handguns and rifles on the machine, hesitant to fire at the figure in front of them quite yet however. Of them, the oldest was a bearded nord, hair white as snow, face filled with regret and terror. The youngest was a redheaded woman, perhaps abruptly made an officer just a few hours ago given the chaos. Both appeared to show some signs of sickness as well.

Around them were a horrid mess of bodies, much of the station’s normal furnishings altered heavily to allow for impromptu bedding on the floor. Many were scarred, many more seemed as if they had suddenly grown ill, their faces growing pale, some vomiting blood, some more having long since passed away. The screams had only made some of them scream out in pain in turn, lying in agony as they waited to fade as well.

“Look at what you’ve done, alien! You’ve killed these people! We’ve done nothing to you and you’ve already killed thousands of us.” the old nord spoke, his rifle still trained on the Sentinel, perhaps unaware of what atrocities had been committed earlier in the night. “Go on, say something before you kill us beyond your canned speech.”

A doctor walked up to the Sentinel as well. She was in her twenties, her hair a dirty blonde, her eyes a light blue, almost pale. Her body was thin, frail almost, borderline sickly in spite of her status. Her hands were shaking, her eyes scanning everything in panic. Tears were streaking from her face, her eyes left bloodshot.

“I don’t know what you’ve done, but I n-need to, get more medicine and aid. Not even magic cures their sickness. They're dying and spreading it faster than I can heal it even with magic.”

[The Ctan]

The discovery that many of those they had intended to protect were already dying was taken in stride by the Necrons. Dathresh watched the doctor and immediately an overlay on her vision called up a dozen local tests, without her even needing to think about it. There was fallout in the air, though from where she did not know, and she suspected a dirty bomb had gone off somewhere nearby.

Her consciousness was aided by a dozen expert systems that proffered suggestions and thought-lines that seemed to be her own unless she consciously considered them, though only on technical and tactical matters.

“It is not our doing. Take these,” she said, her hand flashing with a group of cylinders, replacing the gun she had carried a moment later. The cylinders were the size of marker-pens, rugged of their construction with bands of grey and purple. “Give them to the most affected who could still recover,” she said. “I’ll get more.” They were nanotechnology, of a high grade, the grey banded ones capable of repairing tissue damage from acute radiation exposure.

The pivot from aggression to protection would be a surprise to some, and looked at with dubious suspicion by the locals, but there was much that she had seen. The barriers of her mind were not like locks, but instead her conscious mind was an island in a sea of experience, following the shimmering Messenger across the stars and humbling the haughty and mighty, turning to cruel oppression, and walking through the fires of the countless genocides of the C’tan, she remembered these things, but the trauma of them was attenuated by the neural structure that embraced her core of contemplation. In the more recent memories, she had encountered such things, soul-vore, as seemed to be happening here, dimensional prolapse, and all the other cruel arts of mage-tyrants.

She remembered before then too, though. She was ultimately a necrontyr. Death, and this type of death was an old enemy.

She reached to one of the dying, too far gone to save even with swift action, and she knelt, her hulking war-form was ill suited to the task, but she could move unusually lithely. “You not be alone, we are going to help everyone we can,” she said. Her voice was without the mechanical burr of her war form’s usual voice, though her hand was cold. “We’re going to get pain-suppressants to help you.”

Another displacement pop echoed across the square, and crates of medical goods appeared, she could see through the eyes of her companion-scarab above the square, as Kraelan carried two of them across the square, snapping them open to reveal thousands of emergency treatments in each, and for those who were no longer salvageable by such means, painkillers.

[Rintyar]

Empress Kaimara almost wished she had been the target of the strike instead, given the horrid situation she now had to manage.

Several regiments of Rintyar’s most elite units had been utterly destroyed. Millions of innocent people were dead, the numbers yet to be tallied. Its enemies lied in wait everywhere, the Thalassians utterly unharmed by the danger around them.

Her first Address to the nation since the crisis had begun was as somber as it was filled with a determination to right what had gone wrong.

Standing in the Imperial Palace, she sat in one of its many meeting areas, filled with politicians, cameramen, and reporters instead of the usual tourists. She looked remarkable in spite of having not slept since the strikes began, unyielding in the face of potential apocalypse.

“I had hoped, I would have never had to make this speech. I had hoped there would not have been a crisis of this scale to befall Rintyar in recent times. I had hoped that the Dragon States would have been more sane than to strike so suddenly and without cause.

Unfortunately, we now live in dark times. Approximately three hours ago, Rintyar was struck by repeated strikes of an unidentified nature. They were not Nuclear, but the effects were the same, and in many ways worse. Millions of Rintyari citizens have been killed in this sudden strike, and we retaliated with a return salvo of our own. However, due to both unforeseen circumstances, and a desire to spare the people of Catedonia from underserved annihilation, there are still significant portions of the Dragon States military active in that occupied nation.”

Kaimara spoke some lies, of course. She could not admit that much of the nuclear arsenal had been destroyed effortlessly by the C’tani, nor had she, in her initial fit of rage, given much thought to the Catedonian people, only her own.

“I am committed to nothing less than the safety of the Rintyari people, and the defeat and destruction of all threats to said people. In order to accomplish this, we must live in a world where the Dragon States, and other enemies of Rintyar, do not survive the decade. There will be no appeasement, no white peace, and no salvation for any who were involved in these unjustified strikes. Those responsible will be brought to justice for their crimes, and they shall never again threaten the people of Rintyar in any capacity.

In order to accomplish this, we will first need to wage total war against the Dragon States’ military holdings in Catedonia, from which much of the naval fleet that was used to stage these atrocities hailed from. The people of Catedonia are not our enemies, for they have been enslaved for a century by the Dragon States, but so long as those loyal to their dragon god remain, Rintyar itself will never be safe.

“Therefore, I am calling upon all willing men and women of Rintyar to ready themselves for war. It will not be an easy path to victory, but it must be done no matter the cost. Never again can the Dragon States be allowed to massacre and exploit Mystria, and use this suffering to fuel the destruction of the very idea of peace in Mystria. We did not ask to wage this war, but we will finish it decisively, burning the very taint of the Dragon Cult and its influence from Mystria entirely.”

Kaimara’s speech was short, but drew applause from the crowd nonetheless. Rintyar was not going to let itself be taken advantage of, least of all by threats from beyond the Mystrian realm.

***

Beneath the deepest of the undercities, deep where demons lurk in the monstrous caverns that stretch for the length of cities, where even the great Demonslayer Corps of Rintyar would never dare to venture, lay the final city of the worshippers of Cynisca, forgotten entirely by the now Rintyari aligned Undercities above it.

Cynisca, dreaded goddess of the ancient Drow, long ago abandoned by the Undercities in favor of the less brutal and destructive goddesses, ruled this place with an iron fist through her Chosen Warmistress, or at least, whoever could murder and plot their way into the title. Though her mood was often foul, and her desires near impossible to fulfill, her city thrived, though she would never admit by which means it thrived. Their ‘new’ goddess had stolen the Spider from her, utterly robbing the dreaded goddess of her most favored iconography, though none had claimed the otherwise unnatural horse, folly to train and grow beneath, a testament to the self-destructive nature of Cynisca.

In truth, had it not been for the machinations of an outsider, there would have been less than a hundred Drow for Cynisca to cherish, and she would have loved it so, even in her ever weakening state. And yet, a woman from above reorganized, regrew, retaught the Cyniscans how to focus their hatred outwards, replenish their strengths to thousands of warriors and thousands more slaves to sustain them. She had taught them how to brave, conquer, and even force demons to do their bidding once more, how to create weapons that they had once lacked the knowledge or know-how to put together, how to create vile factories that would put together the elegant weapons of slaughter chosen by the Drow.

She had taught them what Cynisca had neglected in the past hundreds of years, how to become a great empire once more. And Cynisca hated it, but bid her time nonetheless. Perhaps she wished to merely become powerful no matter the cost, perhaps ridding herself of this creature that had embedded itself into her Last City would have been too taxing even for the eldest of goddesses. Perhaps she had been convinced of the merits of conquering all in her name again, instead of merely playing with those who still dared trust her.

Whatever the reason, this interloper walked freely wherever she wished, past cramped cobblestone roads where only slaves and house retinues marched, to the adobes of the glamorless mistresses of the city, to the very center of the city’s authority.

She motioned towards the current Warmistress, lips saying both lies and truths about the world above.

It was time for Cynisca to regain what she had lost all these centuries ago.

***

There was nothing the doctor could do but listen, not truly. She did what she could, returning to her job with haste, trying to save anyone she could at this point. She almost ignored the fact that the world she knew had utterly ended, never to return again.

She couldn’t really say anything anymore, simply keeping silent. Half of it was mere instinct, the other pieces a mixture of dread and relief that she could finally do her work effectively, no longer leaving her so worthless.

The older officer only looked at the Necron with intense wariness, keeping his weapon down. “Agh, no use in getting my men killed over you. You offer aid now, but we shall see if you are true to your wor-”

A gunshot nearly deafened the room, bringing everyone who had stood up crashing to the floor for cover.

The youngest officer had fired her handgun, not at the Necron, but at her supposed superior, tearing a hole through his skull before he hit the floor. Without breaking a sweat, she bolted, trying to exit the building opposite the Necron, her movements unusually adept, sliding over a table as she rushed away, hoping to escape before the Necron could retaliate.

[The Ctan]

Dragon States

Dathresh did not need to respond with words, she instead issued a hekatic decree – a chain of linked instructions based upon her thought and inner voice – to the companion-scarab that attended her. The necron sentinel typically came with such a beast. Long ago the scarabs had been made from the minds of the necrons’ home companions on their radioactive world, some few were patterned fully on ancient pets or beasts of burden that had aided the necrontyr in the taming of their homeland, but most were simple simulations.

Dathresh’s warform was accompanied by a companion-scarab that she had named Epesh, meaning ‘biter’ or more frivolously, ‘bitey,’ a popular scarab name in her home dialect.

The scarab flitted through the air, coming down from its observation position and dropping down onto the fleeing officer. It was capable of moving much faster than any human on the wing. It alighted on her dominant arm, wrapped its legs around her arm, and dropped its gravitic fields, changing its weight from a feather lightness to almost seventy kilos in an instant. To add insult to injury, its form projected a field that cut the gun in two through the chamber.

With her charge not yet having passed, she left the actual arrest to Kraelan.

The other necron approached the woman with the remains of a gun, and stooped.

“You are under arrest on suspicion of murder. You are warned that anything you say may be used to establish your guilt before a court of law. You have the right not to answer any questions, if you so choose, and the right to legal counsel, if you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be assigned to you. Any attempt to escape may be met with lethal force...”

Miauku

The Necrons in Dragon States were not the only group of the Great Civilization’s assets active in the region who were affected. The Followers of Her Majesty were among those deployed in a less visible way. No one could mistake the nation they came from, for they wore sea green living metal, but their cloaks were of imperial blue, and their armour adorned with the iconography of the Living Goddess Sara Maatkaaset The Horus Amenset She of The Two Ladies Tentopet The Golden Set Nebet-Pehty-Amun, one of the most influential constituent monarchs within Civilized space. They were not, as such, a private army but a religious one, and while their resources paled in comparison to the all-civilization institution that was the Conflict Service, they were still extensive.

Miauku was parochial by the standards of Mystrian states, and highly religious cat people who believed in the divinity of the feline form above all else. The Followers of Her Majesty were the natural choice to operate in the region, and after the Conference the Diplomatic Service had persuaded the local government to permit the Followers to operate on the borderlands with their unpleasant neighbour in exchange for several beneficial concessions, and in the event of war, to take action to remove the Dragon States from the continent.

Though organic forces were slower to react than Necrons, they were now in a position to move ahead with that agreement.

Sanethre could see the refugee encampment, more of a town and hospital facility, from their position as their grav-flitter took them back up the mountain and came in to land. Miauku had long been concerned by their irreligious neighbours, and while the Great Civilization did not care about such things itself, it had been content to build a number of border towns, under the direction of the aphoristically efficient Royal Engineers of Aligreth, to accommodate any uptick in refugee crossings, providing a safe-zone for people fleeing Alduinic oppression.

But aside from these the Followers had established a number of military sites, including ones that were dedicated to reaching out far into the Catedonia area. Stepping into the control site past a saluting sentry, they looked around. “I got the situation. What’s our status?”

“Theatre shields operational sir,” a junior follower said. Her duty uniform wore a skinsuit beneath the wide jacketed style of the military, pins showing a rank equivalent to major. “Heqatic countermeasures,” the word was the same as the one that Dathresh used, but the inference radically different, speaking now of true magic, “are working on confirming their measures will work to suppress any similar attacks. We should have a report soon.”

Sanethre’s rank officially translated to ‘Expedition-General,’ and they bore overall responsibility for the security of the Miauku-Catedonia frontier, including preventing Dragon States aggression against Miauku. They’d been attending an event for refugees when the ‘balloon went up.’

“Thank you Niima,” they said, approaching a central holographic table within the command center that showed the expanse of Catedonia to the south. They removed their helmet to reveal a neko face, sandcat hair and ears, and eyes underlined in khol. “Activate the principal jamming installations, switch to war-only emissions mode. I want the Dragon States trying to spot Tizoc’s people with eyeballs,” they ordered.

“Yes general,” Semat, another of the officers said, speaking on her headset briefly, before the holograms updated, substantial parts of the borderlands would be almost inoperable even for the most basic radios, excluding ones that had been provided to the insurgents, while air-to-air and air-to-ground communications would be an appalling shitshow in the entire area. Even beyond these areas, long wave systems would be erratic and even Dragon States civilian infrastructure would be reliant on hard-lines. Consciously, this was set to avoid affecting inbound Dragon Sea Alliance missiles.

“Get on to Tizoc, tell him that as of now, fire support is available as he wishes within our capacities,” Sanethre said, “send up the prepared strike packages for Dragon States aviation and ground assets, let him look them over and tell us which ones he wants.”

[Rintyar]

“Wierleck calls, Empress. It’s urgent.”

“Which Wierleck?”

“The Wierleck.”

Empress Kaimara now sat in the war room for Rintyar, surrounded by the Prime Minister, several military and intelligence officers, and endless piles of information were relayed to her. Anti-submarine warfare had to be conducted first before the invasion of Catedonia could commence. Thalassium had to be warned of the consequences of trying to stake its claim on any Rintyari territory in a moment of weakness. And now, it seemed, another crisis was on her hands.

One of many generals spoke to the Empress, clad in the typical khaki uniforms of the modern Imperial Army. It felt odd, to Kaimara, far more used to generals clad in the best armor that money could buy from her war-waging days.

“What was her message?”

Without further prompting, a figure teleported into the room, the titular dark red sheen of Drow magic visible. She was, much like Kaimara herself, a walking anachronism in terms of equipment, clad in a red plate armor and fielding a longsword that had been beautifully engraved, magic coursing through the metal used to make it, far beyond any mundane blade in its construction and design. The woman herself was stouter than most Drow, her smaller than average height compared to the Raizari around her almost comical given her otherwise macabre armor.

The initial panic of the sudden arrival was met with relief as they found out who had actually arrived. Kaimara, for her part, relaxed significantly, as if she’d finally met a familiar face.

“My forces have been attacked by an unknown force. Thousands of Demons, thousands more Drow. We could not hold the Wound forever, I have ordered and retreated my forces to the outskirts of Cylakadaemos while destroying many of the paths into the wound. They will likely strike within days. I apologize for breaking my exile to bring you this news, but I would like to be exiled back to return to my forces.”

“We can deal with you breaking exile later, we have bigger problems, Sanath.”

“I recommend that we scale down our offensives against Catedonia to deal with this threat. We will have to do without the Drow military units.” The previous general spoke to Kaimara, now turning her attention towards the duo.

“Do we have enough forces to devote to Catedonia without our military forces in the Undercities?”

“We will have enough manpower for approximately 700,000 military forces in Catedonia with our existing forces. The Undercities would provide an additional… 400,000 forces, all of this before expanded conscription is enacted of course but-”

“We’ll need them.”

“But we are being attacked-”

“I will aid Sanath and the Demonslayer Corps and bring a few other warriors I can rally together. Command of the war in Catedonia now falls upon the Prime Minister.”

Satara’s eyes nearly popped from her skull at the thought. The venerable Warmistress of Rintyar had decided to simply… leave, to fight a war against a foe she had just found out about.

“Empress, this is a… risky proposition, we don’t even know what we’re fighting-”

“Drow. Cyniscan Drow. Not the first time I’ve fought them. I know their tricks; they smell blood in the water and they come for a bite. You punch their leader and they go scurrying back or surrender. Been a while since I’ve had to go at it with them, actually.”

“What? The Cyniscans were wiped out, weren’t they?”

“We knew of hideouts deep in the Wound, but a full army of them? That was beyond us.” Sanath expanded upon.

“Why are you risking your neck so suddenly? You are an Empress, not a warrior-”

“Exactly! I’m an Empress when I should be a warrior, what good am I sitting here trying to wage wars I don’t truly understand anymore when I could be defending others. The Gods did not grant me immortality to lounge about in times of crisis. How do you think I even came to rule? Sitting in a room like this watching the war on a map? No, I had to crunch through steel and plate and leather while watching a battle from arrow and gun distance. The war against Catedonia is a modern war where I am but a relic. The war against the Cyniscans, that I can help with.”

“But, the people of Rintyar need-”

“A strong leader. And great heroes You must fill the former role, thousands of Rintyari will need to fill the last, I must be one of them.”

Kaimara turned to Sanath, now pulling out a scroll. “I can take us to Cylakadaemos right now, my Empress.”

“No, I need to visit Tyroth first.”

“King of Dyste? Surely he must be busy.”

“Things have changed a little, just let me use the scroll.”

Once Kaimara was handed it, both the Drow and the Empress had left the room entirely, teleporting the exact same way Sanath Wierleck, infamous , leaving a momentary silence in the room.

“Come on, we’re not getting paid to sit around, get back to work!” Satara said, hiding the sudden illness in her gut.

***

Instead of Castle Dyste, Kaimara instead had been instructed by Tyroth that if he needed to be contacted to go to his cottage in the countryside. A rather humble abode for a king, Kaimara would find Tyroth cooking himself some prime rib, with his mantle being replaced by that old blue traveler’s cloak she had seen him in the first time they met.

“Ah, I was wondering when you would show up,” the black-and-gold Draconid gave a light smile, offering her a plate of the ribs. “I suppose it was inevitable that you would contact me after everything that has happened.”

Kaimara arrived to Tyroth's cottage with a tired look and a smile, finally glad to be somewhere more inviting. Had she expected to arrive here, and had she bothered to think of it in the midst of crisis, she would have dressed much nicer for the occasion. Now, she wore only her usual dress, barefoot and light.

"Yeah, unfortunately I come asking for help, as Empress of Rintyar. I'm afraid I don't have too much time to relax."

Sanath kneeled before Dyste in respect, stalwart, though even smaller compared to the Draconid now. "A war arises in the Undercities, Prince of Rintyar. We will need great warriors to finish it."

Tyroth gave a small chuckle to that title of ‘Prince’, even though at this point it was as meaningful as his title of ‘King of Dyste’; he was barely even that anymore. “Well, if you are hoping for larger forces, you should be asking Tynah instead, she is the acting ruler, not me! But, if you are instead asking as a more personal request for my skills… I suppose at this time I am not doing much else now, am I?”

"You, and anyone else who's a good enough fighter that isn't already preparing to fight elsewhere you can gather. We're likely going to be outnumbered no matter what by thousands of demons and drow who think we both deserve to be nothing more than slaves, and we can’t exactly spare a whole lot of other forces at the moment. We can probably put together a smaller team to start picking apart anything more important too. Either way, we can’t let Cylakadaemos fall.” Kaimara explained, still standing.

“Of course,” Tyroth grinned, “I suppose Lissah at least is a certain bet, she has not taken to retirement as well as I. And I am certain I can gather others for this task!”

"Mmm, I'll make sure it's worth it to them, but we have to gather them soon. Gods only know when they'll finally make a move on Cylakadaemos." Kaimara explained, stretching. “Ugh, been training for the longest time, but it’s been a while since I’ve actually had to get into a fight like this.”

“Same here, to be honest,” Tyroth shrugged. “I hope Tynah does not fall under the same problem as queen… I have been hoping to go adventuring after the transfer of the crown is made official. I just did not expect it to be so soon afterwards… hm, I will have to send the messages out soon. Did you have anyone on my end in mind, or shall I take care of that part?

“I’ll leave it up to you, mostly. We’ll give you the coordinates to the meetup point as well, whenever you’ve got everyone ready. Does that sound alright to you, love?” Kaimara asked, leaning in closer to Tyroth.

“I suppose so, my dear!” Tyroth chuckled, before growing more solemn. “... I had wished this to be under lighter circumstances, but I suppose it cannot be helped.”

“I had wished we’d be meeting together in less dire circumstances too… But at least this gives me one last chance to do what I’ve always been best at; slicing things in half and saving others while doing it.” Kaimara smiled faintly, though she clearly felt hurt underneath.

“I have another scroll for us to return to Cylakadaemos, my Empress. It’s up to you to make the call.” Sanath added, now standing upright, waiting for the talk to end.

Tyroth gave a sympathetic smile to Kaimara, “You were always great at that… and maybe in the future you shall. This might be just a recent feeling, but… I will give you one piece of advice. Think about what you really wish to do after all this is done. Even if it seems impossible, you can always change your path; I thought I would be king until I turned a thousand, but well… circumstances changed. Just give it some thought, that is all I ask.”

“Well, if Rintyar can survive a third time without my absence, perhaps it is time to finally call it an end to my reign.” Kaimara smiled once more. “But now, it’s time to get back to work. Sanath?”

“As you wish.” The drow pulled another scroll out, once more using its magic to fade both herself and Kaimara out of the area, now returning once more to the fray.

[Rohane Alista]

Written in part with Silverdale

Nuclear Bunker, Unknown Location, Rohane Alista

“An interdiction by the space-based civilization the Great Civilization, otherwise known as the C’tani, appears to have destroyed the nuclear strikes launched by the DSA nations-” The anchor’s voice was suddenly cut off as Genevieve pressed the power button on the remote. She lowered her head at the same time as she raised a shaky hand, covering her eyes with it, the other tightly gripping a pendant on her necklace. Her breathing was unsteady, the only noise in the room other than the soft ticking of a clock on the gray, undecorated wall.

The bunker underneath the Imperial House in Calihain was hardly what one would call cozy; consisting of only a few rooms, all in a drab gray, it was a positive sign that the air filtration systems hadn’t had to activate yet. It was even more positive to know the television was still able to show news, instead of its intended purpose of being used for conferences of Rohanian political leadership should the nation be destroyed. That did little to assuage the regent sitting in the conference room, now in near silence, however. It wasn’t everyday one became the first executive of a nation to hit the proverbial big red button, and it was even less common that one was in the position against one’s will, finding themself most definitely ill suited to the extreme stress that seemed so inherent to it.

The door opened as Mythra stormed into the main chamber. At this rare blue moon hour, the angered aasimar swear that in her queenship none of this ludicrous fiasco would occur. Naturally there weren't any nuclear weapons beyond a few mega spells at the time. The one real option back then and now is to break into Alduin’s lair and beat up the lizard out of existence! Yet someone had to send Marron and Anastasia away to Imeratia. Oh when Blanca hears of this disaster she’ll be furious.

Mythra then paused her train of thought as she glanced over to Genevieve. “Hey? Is everything alright?”

There was no response. Genevieve's breathing was growing more and more unsteady as she seemed to shrink in on herself in the chair, gasping and sweating. She lifted her knees to her chest, apparently trying to curl into a ball like some kind of armadillo, but even those were shaking lightly.

Mythra sighed deeply as she walked over to join Genevieve nearby. “You need time for yourself Genny? I can get some tea for you.”

“Don’t leave,” Genevieve replied, in a soft, small voice, more like an injured child than an adult. “Don’t leave. Please don’t.”

Mythra gave a solemn nod as she stayed put. “At ease Genny, I’m right here.”

"Everyone leaves," the regent said softly. "Even Ana… I let them take Ana, it's my fault…"

“Look… I trust Marron that she’d keep Ana safe. If she thinks it is hot water or not worth he being there then she’ll bring Ana home. That and get her mother over to straighten a few matters.” Mythra said.

Genevieve nodded, at first a little, and then a lot. “I know, I trust Marron too, but what if? What if they don’t come back? What if they do and there’s nothing to come back to?” The Rohanian woman looked at Mythra, her eyes bloodshot. “They… nukes, Mythra. Millions of people… I… I almost killed millions of people, Mythra.”

“… if I was in your shoes and done that I’d hate myself so much that I’ll seal myself away.” Mythra sighed. “Like what bloodily mess we have ended up here because of those idiot dragons. At least Marron has an escape hatch to get away anytime in a bubble world.” Then again the bubble world is a whole paradise for chaotic dragons that Marron owns.

"I… I don't know if I can do this, Mythra," Genevieve admitted. "Seal myself away? If… if it weren't for Jasmine and Anastasia, I think I would've…" She trailed off, but the meaning of the words echoed through the room silently; if it wasn't for her children, she would have added one more life to those ended by her hand, her own.

“Genevieve.” Mythra approached her and sat down next to her. “Look, I know sealing yourself away might get away from this disaster, but there isn’t a reason for us to do so now. It’s… we have everything still and we’re so lucky that a total catastrophe is avoided. Don’t toss your life away on top of everything that happened. There is still more to live for!”

“I’m a disaster, Mythra. I can’t… ever since Jaciob died, what am I even doing? A funeral, a war, more wars, my baby girls aren’t who they were before and nothing I do is helping,” Genevieve said. “And tonight I… it was stopped, but I consigned millions to die, and now maybe they’re going to strike back, and I’ll still have sent millions of people to death, but what choices do I even have? Mythra, how… how could I want to live like this?”

“It’s difficult, but we have to move forward and endure this storm. Otherwise just abandoning everything will not only hurt our babies and family, but everyone else in the nation. The girls need us and well… I need you too.” Mythra said.

The regent finally looked up, seeing Mythra properly for the first time of the morning, and gasped a little. She was used to seeing the other woman composed even when stressed, but right now she was a mess, her blonde hair ratty and unkempt, dark circles under bloodshot eyes, exhaustion etched on her face, and Genevieve realized maybe she wasn’t the only one suffering here. “I… Mythra, I’m… making you listen to me like this, it isn’t fair.”

“If it makes you feel better…. I just worry that one night from this disaster I’ll wake up with Pyra in the heavens… Or come back home if she's gone, or everyone in Silverdale… all because some dumb war over an island.” Mythra frowned.

Genevieve hugged Mythra tightly. “It just makes me realize… that we’re not your only family,” she said. “I… Mythra, promise me, if anything happens to me, you’ll help take care of Jasmine and Ana, please?”

“I will…” Mythra then held Genevieve tight. “Now please… don’t hurt yourself alright?”

“No, I won’t, I… it would be a betrayal of all you’ve done for me,” she replied, hiccuping a bit into Mythra’s shoulder. “I might come to you again, but I promise, if… if anything happens, I’ll do everything I can for Pyra too, ok?”

“Thanks…” Mythra was quiet for a second. “Alongside that Eyvel and the rest of her family… You know I do wonder why someone like my sweet sister deals with that nation but… never mind.”

“Well, love can make people a little weird, right?” Genevieve gave a weak laugh, briefly distracted by the change in topic. “If she really does love Eyvel, maybe she’s just gotten used to some things we wouldn’t expect… at least she isn’t growing used to being alone, I hope. I think that’s the worst thing of them all.”

“Definitely.” Mythra nodded. “I might have to pay a visit to Glaristant soon.”

“If you need someone to come with you, even just as support,” Genevieve offered, hugging Mythra again. “If you’re not going to let me do this alone, I won’t let you either.”

“Thanks… you know what, you can come along.” Mythra then yawned. She then wondered: if there was whole dragon attacks next or so… maybe Jacobi would come as well?

Genevieve yawned back, covering her mouth with a hand. “It’s… too early for us to leave the bunker. Come on, let’s go rest with Jasmine,” she said, standing and slowly making her way out of the room, trying to leave her worst self behind.

“Sure thing.” Mythra replied. She wasn’t sure what’d happen next, but it can’t get crazier from here.

------

Joint Senates, Inner Ring District, Calihain, Rohane Alista

Five hundred people shuffled back into the room, only ever used for joint sessions of the Senates of Rohane Alista, which seemed to be becoming so much more common that there were soft but growing calls to abolish the bicameral legislature in the first place, and create a unicameral one. Such a change was unlikely to occur today; in fact, it was borderline impossible, unless every city in the nation decided to hold a snap vote simultaneously, and even then such a large change would take time and debate to ratify. However there were a few important matters on the docket today, one of which had already taken the entire morning and so far into the afternoon that the sun was starting to set.

Despite the late hour, it seemed not a single senator was missing, the last few trickling in just before the session began again, taking seats across the room, all looking to the Prime Minister’s desk, where Hannah Motley, already the second longest serving Prime Minister in Rohanian history, stepped up, looking even older than she actually was. It was hard to judge her; the last year had begun with the death of an emperor, included at least two wars against genocidal supermagical hate beings, and had only a few days ago culminated in nuclear strikes on a close ally. Now, she had to lead the Senates in their debate; did Rohane Alista honor its commitment to the Dragon Sea Alliance and Rintyar by invading the Dragon States and their colonies, or was it too wounded, too hurt by the last year?

Usually, debates about DSA matters were pretty simple in the Joint Senates; “yes, we support the DSA” had been the long running theme of such discussions, but this one was different. There was a feeling in the Senates that Rintyar wasn’t a real member of the alliance, having sent barely anything to Silverdale during the Winter War, and rarely if ever actively participating in DSA matters excepting the rare joint training exercise, but really, that was a tangential reasoning a few extremists subscribed to.

The real issues at hand would soon rear their heads again, as the Prime Minister opened the floor. “Senator Analis of Trastinia has requested the floor. Request granted,” Hannah said, pointing to a dark skinned man with even darker hair as he stood.

Senator Trevor Analis, a leading member of Rohane Alista’s nationalist party The Children of Rohan, had already proven himself an enemy of the Dragon Sea Alliance when he voted against sending troops to aid Silverdale in the Winter War, but he was also a savvy political operator, quickly turning that vote into a victory for himself. “Thank you, Prime Minister,” he said, standing and walking to a podium at the front of the room, notes in hand. “I think it goes without saying that we all know why I stand here now. We must, absolutely, vote Nay on any attempts to go to war with the Dragon States! Rohane Alista is in no position to fight, and this is not our fight in the first place! More Rohanians died in the Winter War than anyone except the Silverdaleans themselves, and why? Because our so called allies were happy to let us die instead of them! We spent half a million Rohanian lives in Silverdale, and what were our thanks? To be asked to drain our coffers to rebuild their nation! Coffers which, need I remind you, were already being drained to support their economy in the middle of the war.

“The Dragon Sea Alliance asks us, again and again, to send our people to die for them! They ask us to be their bulwark, and their coffers! What do we even gain from this? The ire of the world? The threat of being the first to fall, should war with the Crown Alliance come? The destruction of our nation so theirs will be safe? Dyste barely even has a military at all, and they say they’ll help us fight? With what, five axe wielding maniacs who can’t use half their abilities here anyways? So I ask, when will they be satisfied with what we give them? At a million dead, or two million? Five million? Five hundred million? Well I say we gave far too many as is!

“Let them solve their own problems! They meddle with their magic with our money in Dyste and Silverdale, build themselves police states with our money in Glaristant, and their political voices discriminate against us across nearly the entire alliance! To be a Rohanian abroad is to be other even amongst our supposed closest friends, and then they want us to march to their invasions, when our army is depleted and suffering already, all for their own sakes? I refuse to be a party to the sacrifice of another half million good Rohanian men and women! Remember who you represent here, my fellow senators; it isn’t the Dragon Sea Alliance, and it isn’t Rintyar, it’s Rohanians!”

As the speech ended, there was at first silence, before a smattering of applause which grew into a surprisingly cacophonous din, a few senators rising to their feet, though they were all easily identified as members of The Children of Rohan. This went on for a few minutes before Hannah banged her gavel, slowly silencing the room. “Thank you for your passionate speech, Senator Analis,” she said. “Are there any parties who would like to offer a rebuttal?”

The Senates fell quiet for a moment as Senator Analis returned to his seat, but as soon as he was down, a blond Rohirrimi man rose, raising his arm and hand. “Senator Elson of Turlia would like to offer a rebuttal, Prime Minister,” he said, heading down to the podium when he received an assenting nod.

He didn’t bring any papers with him as he stood in front of the microphone, allowing the silence to drag on as he slowly looked through the senate, spending slightly longer on each member who had previously stood. After he had looked through the entire chamber, he slowly began to speak. “Ridge 237, twelve killed. Boulder’s Nest, six killed. Golden Shore, two hundred three killed, sixty two missing, and one hundred eleven wounded. Lamy, forty seven killed, one hundred thirty five missing, and twenty one wounded. Marrondale, ninety four killed, one missing. Silvervale,” he paused for a moment, glancing around at the increasingly uncomfortable senators. “One thousand, six hundred fifty eight killed, three hundred eighty five missing, and five hundred twenty five wounded. These were smaller battles, often scouting missions or evacuation defense, that were performed by Rohanian forces in Silverdale.

“Penguin City, approximately eight thousand killed, wounded, and missing. Chen, approximately twelve thousand killed, wounded, and missing. New Snowdale,” the senator at the podium took a deep breath, and so did several of the other senators, then repeated himself. “New Snowdale. Approximately twenty seven thousand killed, wounded, and missing. These were the three largest battlefields in which Rohanian soldiers found themselves. Our colleague from Trastinia is correct; four hundred thirty five thousand, six hundred twelve Rohanians became casualties of war in Silverdale. I won’t pretend I know all of their names, despite my best efforts, but I will say that each and every one of them served with the honor I expect of them as a veteran of the Imperial Army myself. Not only would it be untrue to say their sacrifices weren’t or aren’t appreciated by our allies, it would be insulting to the memories of the dead to claim the Dragon Sea Alliance is meaningless, because then you say they died for nothing!

“But I do not believe for a moment these were meaningless deaths. I know we all have some issues with some of our allies, yes, even the most positive of us will admit that Dyste and Rohane Alista do not have much in common, but that is part of what makes the close bonds of the DSA so worthwhile. These differences in experience allow us to overcome our own limitations, and see the world in a new way! And part of this is a commitment, to every member, that if they are attacked, we will defend them, and they will do the same for us. If nothing else, do you really wish to disrespect our fallen countrymen and women by slandering their memory? I don’t!

“While it really is that simple, it doesn’t end there; I find it highly ironic that Senator Analis calls out anti-Rohanian prejudice in our allies while preaching prejudice against them himself, so I wish to remind us all that it isn’t just militarily that we benefit. The extremely cheap food imports from Dyste and Glaristant, organized through the DSA, keep our nation’s population afloat, as do their multitude of immigrants to our shores. Our collaborative research projects with Silverdale, possible largely because of the DSA, have leapt both nations forward technologically. Further, to claim our allies would refuse to help us is itself ridiculous; what was the point of the joint exercises with Rintyar, quite literally aimed around building cohesion for swift deployments to Rohane Alista, if not to ensure we would have allies at our door as swiftly as our foes?

“This is not the time to give in to naysaying and negativity! This is when Rohane Alista is meant to step up and prove we are the leaders we claim to be! We should not and cannot be silent on this! As we head for the vote, my fellow senators, I ask you to remember not just who we are now, but who we want to be; not just the recent past, but the long and storied history of our ties to these allies of ours. Even as far back as Jacobi’s reign, they were fighting for our nation. They will surely do so again, should it ever be needed. And finally… do not disrespect our honored dead by pretending they fought for nothing. Thank you,” the blonde man finished, getting applause himself, though more restrained, and from very few of the same senators, as he left the podium and returned to his seat.

Before anyone else could speak, Hannah banged her gavel again, standing. “Debate is over; let voting commence! All those who vote Aye to committing to the joint military response, lift your hands!” She announced, waiting a moment for the count to finish, then speaking again. “And all those who vote Nay, lift your hands!”

After a few moments and the shuffling of papers, the Prime Minister cleared her throat. “By a vote of two hundred ninety two to two hundred and eight, the Ayes carry.” Rohane Alista was once again plunging into war.

[The Ctan]

The force that had been detached from Gaian close orbit to attend to the Dragon States was reinforced at the first hour. With flicks of hyperspeed that could barely be seen, ships began to slip into place. First came thirty-two ships of a standard engagement forces, the operational ‘fleet’ of the Great Civilization, ranging from six-kilometre harvest ships to the single crescent-shaped discs of raiders. This was joined by two support elements, each of sixteen ships each, the first composed for humanitarian work, hospital vessels – though the harvest ships and their smaller craft had this capacity in miniature.

It was the second that was less usual, led by the vast Macroarthropologist, an engine-carrier as large as a harvest ship. Strange spindle craft and mastaba units accompanied it as they slipped past the arc of the unfinished Menelmacari planetary ring and headed toward Mystrian airspace, their destination the continent of Keizaal.

The spindle craft decelerated a little less than the others, completing arcs that carried them toward their destination. They broke up as they hit atmosphere, looking not unlike ballistics, as they spread in a wide ring around the area known as Blackreach. Each of them was a ‘reality anchor’ that kept spacetime functioning much as it should have.

They were accompanied by six gigatons of shimmering green crystal. Chosen for its anathamaeic properties, the psycurium laced crystal was carried aboard the support ships’ bulk cargo bays. As the ships entered close position with Keizal these were fired, displaced from their cargo bays by the megaton into the lower atmosphere above Blackreach. Shimmering dust fell in fine mesh sizes over the mountains. It was in a way, not dissimilar to the fallout that would have fallen otherwise, in its consistency and to mages, its effects were deleterious, albeit in a different way.

The overall effect was to choke back many magics.

It wasn’t the only thing that came though, as the Macroarthropologist deployed part of its lethal cargo. The first part of this were dozens of Tesseract god-traps, set across the mountains.

Most displacement actions left a pop of pressure equalizing. This was a single thunderclap that boomed over the mountains. The creature that appeared was huge, a manifest challenge, with six legs that thumped into the ground and would likely cause avalanches below. It held a vast abdomen of power generators and a hunch-backed forward section that was curiously humanoid, arms jutting out to the sides of a large squared head. The Tomb Stalker was larger than any titan of the Old Imperium, and it blared out a noise that shattered the mountain side.

The noise was indecipherable on the surface, but beneath the surface it was resonated into a single voice.

Alduin, Child of Akatosh, come forth. Surrender yourself and answer for your crimes.

The sound was ear-splitting, transmitted principally through the creature’s legs, into the bones of the Earth.

There were numerous Great Civilization assets within Mystria that were not directly involved in hostilities. Thia Galanodel had the misfortune of being one of those in Altea at the time that the Dragon States, as all believed at this time, had chosen to start a conflict, and she was one of the duty diviners there. The effort of casting her mind far afield was difficult. She sat around a wide map of the region, the areas where the teleporting munitions of the Dragon States had already struck had been highlighted.

She wore a neural crown, to relay her thoughts and visions to the shipminds in orbit, while her mind sang with psy-active substances, awaiting the visions of the next strike, the minds would process the landforms that she would see, and hopefully derive realspace entry points of the weapons before they were fired, to allow interception to take place.

[New Dornalia]

OOC: Done with Malgrave

IC:

Government Crisis Centre, Epping, Malgrave

Even before the return of Grogar had been confirmed, the Government Crisis Centre had been wholly focused on the troubling crisis that was unfolding in the Research Colony and the Kouralian mainland, however, the destruction of Sheyana combined with subsequent strikes against military targets in Catedonia had prompted a change in focus, with routine meetings now being held on both the Grogar and Dragon State situation.

Today, the Dragon States were the issue being discussed, a holographic image of Catedonia indicating the main focus of this meeting, a lone woman handing out a small folder to the small delegation that were present for the briefing before taking her position at front of the room,

“Comrade Ministers,” Katia De Campo said, the Minister of National Defence taking over the first portion of the meeting, “I understand that not much time has transpired since the Dragon States launched their devastating attack against Rintyar, however, since a lot has happened since that initial incident I believe it would be prudent to supply an update.”

At that point Katia brought up the next part of the presentation, a list of naval assets and projected casualties appearing alongside the map of Catedonia,

“After discussions during the Mystria Prosperity Conference regarding Catedonia, the Ministry of National Defence and the Directorate of Naval Intelligence worked together to create a report detailing the projected casualties that would occur during operations to blockade Catedonia itself,” Katia said, “Fortunately, we have received word that the C’tani have deployed some manner of arc weapon against the surface fleet of the Dragon States, of course, losses are still projected, however, considering the advantage we’ve just gained they’ll be significantly reduced compared to earlier projections.”

“What work is being done to ensure that our naval forces are well-informed whilst out on patrol?” Nadzieja asked, the Prime Minister quite keen to avoid unnecessary losses

“Presently the Directorate of Naval Intelligence are working together with the International Operates Committee to collate intelligence on potential submarine movements, however, we hope to be able to enhance this information with data from the Dornalian Republic and the C’tan,” Katia replied.

“You’ve recalculated projected losses in regards to all military operations?” Eliot asked, the Deputy Prime Minister continuing when she received a confirmatory nod from her colleague, “In that case does the Ministry still predict heavy casualties for an amphibious operation?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Katia said, “While it is true that military assets within Catedonia has been struck, our current analysis of the situation suggests that many military units within the country are still capable of putting up stiff resistance. It is therefore quite reasonable to predict that any amphibious landing would be heavily contested and result in heavy casualties for the attacking force.”

“I expect that the Ministry has a strategy to reduce these losses, Minister?” Nadzieja asked, “With the situation in the Research Colony we cannot afford to engage in such costly operations.”

“Of course, Prime Minister,” Katia said, “Although for that I defer to the Director General of the International Operations Committee,” the Minister added sitting as she was replaced by the aforementioned Director Molnar.

“It would be deeply illogical to engage in an amphibious invasion of Catedonia at the moment, however, we are fortunate that Catedonia presents us with an opportunity to weaken our enemy without committing to such an invasion,” Helen Molnar said,

“...and that is?” Eliot asked interrupting the Director

“Rebellion, Comrade,” Molnar said, “Catedonia may be under Dragon State occupation but it has a sizeable insurgency that is committed to liberating their homeland. It is led by an individual called Tizoc, a figure that I believe you met at the Prosperity Conference.”

Nadzieja nodded, the Prime Minister had listened to the concerns of Tizoc during the conference and his tales of the oppression suffered by his people were still fresh in his mind, “Just how does this rebellion help our other problems?”

“Tizoc’s rebellion has been able to survive despite the best efforts of the Dragon States to eliminate them, so by supplying them with weapons, pharmaceuticals, electronics and other key items of equipment we’ll be able to rapidly increase their efficiency and make them more capable of striking hostile targets,” Molnar said, “Tizoc’s rebels will also possess knowledge on the land itself, so they’ll be able to guide Special Operations Sections during their own sabotage operations in the country.”

Molnar then motioned towards a section of the report, a portion that was at least partially inspired by historic interactions with insurgency groups

“It is our hope that Tizoc’s rebellion will eventually be able to seize territory within Catedonia itself, especially, if their operations are being supported by the C’tan,” Molnar explained, “If that happens then we’ll be able to funnel troops through this allied pocket, an approach that would result in far fewer casualties compared to a contested landing.”

“It does sound quite logical,” Eliot admitted looking at report in front of her, “..but I am curious about how you intend these units to enter into Catedonia itself,”

“In regular circumstances we would deploy them from a specialised miniature submarine launched from one of our larger submarines or a surface vessel, however, given the circumstances I recommend that we cooperate with the Dornalian Republic on this matter,” Molnar said

“May I ask why?” Eliot said once again interrupting the Director General

“Dornalia possess technology will shall allow us to insert commandos and even equipment within Catedonia without being detected,” Molnar explained, “Furthermore, we have already worked together on multiple high-profile operations over the years, so I trust the Dornalians to be able to complement and even enhance the effectiveness of our own operators.”

“Very well, Director General,” Nadzieja said, “You have permission to start aiding Tizoc’s forces in Catedonia, hopefully, with the assistance of the Dornalians.”

-----

Somewhere within ERIS Headquarters
City of Industry, California, Earth SSR
Colonial Republic of Earth

“...so that’s where we stand at the moment, Madame Director,” the analyst said, pointing to the holographic projector. “All indications indicate that the Great Civilization has neutralized the DSA counterstrike for reasons unknown to us at this time, though we have some theories. In the meantime, the Rohanians have voted to go to war once again as part of a coalition effort by the DSA against the Dragon States. And given that Empress Kaimara of Rintyar has explicitly namechecked Catedonia as her target of choice, it isn’t a stretch to say that’s where we think they’ll go.”

Director Nadine Huntleigh-MacIntyre sat in her chair, nodding as she was flanked by other holographic figures attending virtually. Nadine then spoke, her practiced Transatlanic-Californian accent lending a certain gravity far out of proportion to the seriousness of her inquiry as she went, “Thank you, Mr. Krauser. How progresses the Dornalian response?”

A picture of Admiral Krueger then popped up on the holographic projector, and the analyst then went, “Admiral Krueger is currently making arrangements to speak to the DSA’s membership. Pursuant to our last discussion with the Admiral, the President as well as Congress have both authorized the use of Colonial Republican assets to assist the DSA and any Mystrian allies in any way possible to resolve the unfolding situation. Likewise, pursuant to said meeting, the Intelligence Community will be working underneath the guidance of the newly-consolidated Mystria Intelligence Working Group headed by Captain Elsie Lockhart, CRN, who is also the Chief of Station in Silver City and will be acting as the Admiral’s equivalent as supreme commander of Intelligence Community assets in the region.” Krauser then gestured to a hologram of a relatively young-ish tanned woman in a Navy officer’s uniform, who nodded politely in response to Krauser’s mention..

“Very good, very good,” Nadine said, acknowledging Lockhart’s presence. The head of ERIS took in the new intelligence czar for the region with a smile and good confidence. Lockhart reminded Nadine of her younger self, in a way. Yes, there was the obvious part where Lockhart had Coredian roots and blonde hair and Asian features like Nadine did--though Lockhart was from Konoha, and not the South Bay region like Nadine--but Lockhart also had a sort of devil-may-care sort of countenance about her person mixed with a sort of fire and ambition and a willingness to act against all hazards in her eyes, all garnished with a slight bit of ruthlessness. All that plus her background doing business as a Defense Attaché, several tours on classified Navy Corps of Engineers business, and even the odd policy proposal made Nadine feel like she had someone who she could trust.

And, at the very least, Lockhart could be counted on to get business done. It wasn’t that Nadine couldn’t trust Admiral Krueger to get business done. But it helped to have one of one’s people within the larger Dornalian operational apparatus, really. Besides, she found it amusing that a mere Captain, due to a complex intersection of federal laws and policy directives, had as much power as an Admiral who was ostensibly her superior officer.

“Speaking of Intelligence…..I think we’re supposed to be having a phone call with the head of the International Operations Committee right now? The head of the IOC wanted to speak to us, and said it was rather urgent,” Lockhart interjected with a cough..

“Yes, we are, actually,” Nadine said with a nod. “Right, then. Let’s patch the head in, and see what she needs.”

And with that, the head of Malgrave’s IOC would be patched in and her voice would come in on line as the assembled got ready to speak to their counterparts.

“Madame Director,” Molnar said as a way of greeting, “I apologise for the abruptness of this meeting, however, the erratic nature of the Dragon States I thought it would be prudent to contact you directly.”

“Ah yes! Director General Molnar! It’s good to hear from you. I trust things at the International Operations Committee are going well.” Nadine leaned forward and added, “I’ve got the head of the Mystria Intelligence Working Group here, Captain Elsie Lockhart, from the Naval Corps of Engineers.”

“Hello, hello!” Elsie added, as she leaned in to speak to Molnar, “Captain Lockhart here, ma’am. And let me say it’s a pleasure to meet my Malgravean counterpart.” Lockhart would have added the phrase, “I’ve heard so much about you,” but prudence dictated it was perhaps best not to show one’s hand just yet.

Nadine nodded and then went, “Now, Director-General, I understand you wanted to discuss matters involving the Dragon States situation? What did you have in mind?”

“As well as things can be considering the current security situation, Madame Director,” Molnar replied inwardly noting confirmation of the Mystria Intelligence Working Group for review at a later date, “Likewise, Captain. I’ve heard good things about you from my operatives in Silverdale, so my thanks for the assistance you gave us during our operations in that country.”

Molnar then paused for a second, the Director-General gathering her thoughts and some notes before responding.

“Fortunately, the Mystrian Prosperity Conference provided us with quite a fair bit of information on the Dragon States, with Catedonia being noted as a key target for liberation,” Molnar said, “By current projections an invasion of Catedonia would result in high casualties, a most unwelcome outcome and deeply harmful to wider anti-Grogar efforts,” Molnar added, “Thankfully, we also know that Catedonia has a hearty resistance led by Tizoc, however, it is one that needs support, now, we have plans to supply this rebellion with MalTec and MalPha gear alongside weapons and even advisors but transportation remains an issue with many of our assets tied up in the Research Colony, so I was hopeful that by coordinating our efforts we’ll be able to solve these transport issues and provide a greater range of equipment.”

The two Dornalians looked at each other, as did Krauser when he sat down. Nods were exchanged, with the Dornalians acknowledging the Research Colony issue silently amongst themselves. After all, it was why the Dornalians were doing their Lend-Lease missions to the region to the Malgraveans. A few moments of thinking, and then Elsie spoke first. While there was much to give on the Dornalians’ end, it did behoove the Dornalians to do their due diligence on just what their partners needed. And, it happened to dovetail nicely with any number of policy proposals on the Dornalian end being bantered about at the DoD, the Intelligence Community, the State Department, and so on.

“Well, like, we have plenty of options for providing logistical support, Director-General to better coordinate our plans. We’ve got means of teleporting people and supplies in, stealth vessels, dragons, parachutes….the only limit is your operational need, what Tizoc’s people need, and also whatever defenses the Dragon States has in the region.” With a wry grin, Elsie then added, “Either way, I’ve got what you need. Being the supremo totally has its advantages.”

“We have considered the possibility of using ancestral energy to teleport people into Catedonia itself, however, as we are uncertain about the existence of potential countermeasures it is one that has been scrapped for now,” Molnar said, of course, another portion of the reluctance was due to recent shenanigans in the Research Colony but the Dornalians didn’t need to know that uncomfortable fact, “...dragons would negate the stealth needed for the operation and parachutes would require a degree of air control over the region which again would impact the quietness of our approach,” the Director-General continued quite uncertain over the seriousness of the dragon suggestion, “I believe a silent insertion via a Pelican would be the most efficient option here, as not only are our operatives familiar with these vehicles due to previous cooperation between our agencies but their stealth drives would make any insertion a less dangerous proposition.”

Elsie nodded. Without missing a beat, the Dornalian quickly replied with a simple, “Seems like you’re aware of our MC-118A9 line of Pelicans. We can use them to bring people and supplies in and out of denied areas, like Catedonia itself--especially the more defended areas.” Pausing, she then went, “Of course, I can certainly talk to the right people--put together a task force, re-task some special operations aviation units, et cetera. But, I don’t think we’d mind supplying some materiel as well to supplement your efforts. Like secure communications and so on. I know that S--er, IOC has its devices, but we wouldn’t mind supplying the Sledgehammer Network-capable communications systems.”

Nadine raised an eyebrow, but Elsie shot her a look, as she continued speaking to Molnar. “So, like, for a quick reference point, Sledgehammer--or SledgeNet--was designed by our partners and ourselves to act as a sort of secure, encrypted communications system to spread…well, the Dornalians call it samizdat, but others would call it something like pirated communications or smuggled-in media, etc. But with its features such as one-time-pad based encryption and an instant messenger service, there’s no reason why they couldn’t coordinate action using it. Stuff like that.” Elsie added, “And, as you know, there are more…lethal items as well as lethal expertise that can be supplied to Tizoc and his soldiers. Plenty more that the Company--” Elsie used the old nickname for ERIS--”can provide alongside the IOC.”

“I would not have suggested the Pelican if I wasn’t aware of its capabilities, unfortunately, we lack a comparative transport that possess the same stealth capabilities hence the need for assistance,” Molnar said referring to the Avro Bohr, an old rotodyne aircraft that had been used during some past operations back when the IOC was the SIS, “It would be quite foolish of me to refuse additional material aid to the Catedonians, so I would be quite pleased to bring that help on board our efforts.”

Molnar then paused for a few moments, the Director-General seemingly reading over some notes before she continued,

“We will be supplying Tizoc’s rebels with MalTec Puffins, a rather versatile piece of equipment that is proven to be tough in the field and incredibly resistant to efforts to intercept it,” Molnar added, a small note of annoyance in her voice as even after decades of attempts the SIS had failed to break into the system for their own purposes, a fact which MalTec liked to highlight as a point of pride during their interactions, “A majority of our lethal military equipment is currently being sent to the Research Colony, however, we should be able to spare some light mortars and anti-armour weapons that I believe would be quite suited towards an insurgency, so we shall most likely have to depend on you for the majority of lethal aid while we focus on sending electronics and medical assistance,”

Nadine and Elsie nodded. Elsie took the lead, going, “That would be most acceptable. Our people have access to a lot of guerilla-friendly weapons, which would be suitable for Tizoc’s forces. And well, you’ve seen how Lend-Lease is going for Malgrave and Kouralia--if we can, like, produce weapons for both of your nations at once, we can so provide useful weapons to the Catedonian Resistance.” Elsie then added, to cover her bases, “Now, did you have Tizoc’s location, or some way of locating where he is? And also, what role does the DSA play in all this?”

“I believe I have seen some of these guerilla-friendly weapons in the past, quite easy to use and maintain so of extreme use to any insurgent force and we know that you’ll be able to supply them quite readily, as we are incredibly grateful for the assistance that you’ve been able to grant us manufacturing the AR-2 and AR-3 platforms for us,” Molnar said silently approving the weapons that she knew the Dornalians would send, “I do not have concrete information on what role the DSA will play in this conflict, although, considering the damage that has been inflicted against one of their members I predict that they’ll be quite proactive. I’ve been informed though that my government wishes to keep this as a collaborative endeavour as opposed to one dominated by a singular alliance, so it should be interesting to see how that goes,” she said, a small sigh escaping before she moved onto the other question, “Tizoc’s location is unknown to us as well, however, we are also contacting the C’tan to gain such information so we should have accurate information to insert our advisors and supplies,”

Elsie and Nadine nodded. Elsie added, “Well, one would hope the Great Civilization provides his location, so we can begin to move the necessary men and materiel to the Resistance. Are they also involved in this situation?”

“You would be correct in that assumption,” Molnar said, “Beyond the precision strikes that they’ve delivered against targets in the Dragon States, we suspect that they’ll also provide greater assistance to the rebels in Catedonia since this matter was discussed at the Mystrian Prosperity Conference,” Molnar added, “Malgrave does enjoy quite close relations with the C’tan so we are confident that we’ll able to get this location and essentially knock on the front door? I think that is the right term but we’ll be right outside,”

"I see." Elsie nodded, going, "Well, in that case, see what you can dig up from the C'tan then. In the meantime, we'll try and get things ready on our end." Elsie then added, "Also, it may behoove us to get the DSA member states onboard for this endeavor--if not now, then down the line at some point. They'll be wanting vengeance, I'd wager--though I could just be projecting on my part. Otherwise, was there anything else?"

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear back from our contacts in the C’tan,” Molnar said, a small part of her suspecting that such contact attempts were already underway, “...and the desire for vengeance is quite understandable given the loss of life, so I shall trust that you’ll be able to get those DSA states on board with this,” the Agent said, “I can’t think of anything else to discuss and I imagine that you’ve got plans to action so I shall take my leave, as always it has been a pleasure speaking with you even considering the circumstances, may the ancestors watch over your path,”

Elsie then nodded and went, “Thanks for coming, Director-General. Likewise!” After the call ended, Elsie and the others looked at each other, and Elsie went, “Right. I’ll sign off and begin making those preparations. And, I’ll see how Admiral Krueger is doing.”

“Let me know if there are any issues,” Nadine said. “Otherwise, this meeting is adjourned.”

And with that, wheels began turning….

[Legokiller]

Chen, Silverdale
Snow’s Temporal Apartment

Princess Snow awakened herself from the chamber of mediation and devotion to the natural world as awoken from visions of another calamity. The stars fall across the lands of Mystria and unleash balls of fire of great destruction. One that sank the lands far greater than Hippositana, and brought tsunamis to wash away the unexpected nations nearby. Even the respite of death itself was not freedom from the material realm, as a dark hole consumes countless souls to empower a dark dragon to ascend from demigodhood into full godhood.

Outside of the apartment she found herself as the havoc of people and vehicles flooded the streets. Prayers from the people who found themselves devoted to her echo safely from the coming apocalyptic. Foxy News on the TV speaks of the people across the country breaking into a mass panic. People head into the countryside to find shelter, while others rush in to the various grocery stores and outlets to stock up on the now increasingly diminished supplies of food and goods.

“The end is near!” A voice cried out from the outside. All with the sporadic burst of low life and desperate people now and then trying to break into stores to loot its goods.

“We have a rough report from the death toll of Sheyana. About 5 million people, which I am told… Well, this is the best estimate, having perished from the attack.” Summer Dawn the golden blonde fox woman spoke up. “And as if all goes off the road, we’ve reports of an all out nuclear strike from our soil alongside other states in the Dragon Sea Alliance fired right at the Dragon States as a response. Our sources on the clock to get the most reliable information out there from the Octagon.”

“How a simple visit to the Friendship University went so far down.” Princess Snow frowned deeply as she held a bundle of her beloved foal, Icy, in her hooves. How can this occur so rapidly? At this point, she knew that if she was queen, she could’ve at least tried to halt it. Yet there was so much confusion and a shroud for a darker motive behind this unexplained attack. The worst part was that it could be the end for Silverdale and her family to grow up in a cold icy realm.

The door slammed open for the pink haired human in white armor to rush out to the living room. A state of shock and panic in the eye unhidden from her bang knew there could be something far worse. “Princess Snow! Y-You’re still here.” Shield panted. “D-Did you see anything dangerous that might be near?”

“A potential future, but I cannot be certain it may come true.” Princess Snow replied.

“True? Oh, that’s what I am most worried about! I know divinity may give me the answer to halt a nuclear bomb from destroying Chen… But we need you to find safety.” Shield said.

“Safety…” Princess Snow paused for a long moment. Hesitate to simply rush out now with all her belongings. “No. We can’t hide. People are getting hurt. No end times can change that. “

Shield gave a solemn nod and narrowed her eyes. “Then I shall keep an eye out, and do what I can.”

Princess Snow nodded as she patted Icy. “I’ll allow Talva and Eisa to take care of you lil princess.” She sighed. As she knew that Talva already had a rough sleep before she awakes to this mayhem. As for Eisa, the blue haired Glacian Elf danced and was already prepared for the mission ahead!

“Don’t worry princess, I got this!” She swirled her arms.

“Thank you.” Snow nodded. “Now let’s go.”

It’d be long hours to care for and quell the nearby storm! Already the rows of cars, buses, and folks trying to make a mad dash had begun.

[Thalassium]

Imperator Aetius Flavius looked at the scroll again, snapping it closed before watching the magically captured footage on the magi-stone orb he would be including with it. It showed the meeting he and Kahurangi had had with the vile creature by the name Vahzen- and he magically stopped it again, in the same place he already had.

It was well he himself was an archmage on a level competitive with the best of Dyste and Silverdale, or else he would think the stone had become damaged somehow, but no, he recognized the signs of disgusting magic as he watched her grow ancient and then into practically a teenager, despite the recording not even playing. The fact her form itself would change, to look like others for mere split seconds, didn’t bother him as much; he already had guessed her soul was some kind of monstrous split, either collected from or split between many bodies, but he hadn’t had enough time to confirm either way. Still, he hoped the recipients of this particular recording would not think it disputable simply because of esoteric and horrifying magics being captured.

Indeed, he believed they would find it most useful; even as her appearance changed, and her age seemed to be perhaps fluid, a constant remained in the frame; her ‘real’ face, at least the one she had been wearing for their meeting, didn’t leave. The wrinkles on the otherwise smooth cheeks, the blue yet cloudy yet clear eyes… but the soul of it couldn’t be hidden and shown through clearly. Aetius didn’t know this person, but he knew someone would, and the supposed Great Civilization would have an easier time determining who than Thalassium itself. So he used a quick spell to end the recording, rendering the orb inert until it was once again awoken by magic, and used a small spell to call someone into the office.

A few moments later, a tall, bronzed man with wavy brown hair entered the office with a deep bow, which wrinkled his otherwise pristine deep blue robe. He stayed bowed until Aetius spoke. “Rise, Conerius,” the Emperor commanded softly, holding out the orb, now in a velvet sack, in one hand, and the scroll, sealed with an enchanted wax that only a special knife given already to the C’tani embassy could open, in the other. “You are my most reliable courier, so I order this of you; take these two items to the C’tani attache, post-haste. Deliver them directly to Emissary Ingrid ita Thurasid only. Once they are in the Emissary’s hands, you are to take three weeks of vacation with your family; you are to leave Thalassium with them. Your expenses will be covered by the Imperial Household, and I suggest you visit that land known as Aravea. I hear some of the ancient ruins of our people are still revered there.”

“As you command, Emperor,” Conerius bowed deeply again, rising to take the sack and scroll, and exiting the office, where the Emperor once again was at a window, this one overlooking the large imperial city, and made haste to the place of the Great Civilization.

Missive From Emperor Aetius Flavius of the Western Mystrias, Chosen Speaker of The Gods

To Emissary Ingrid ita Thurasid,

We make a most alarming and important revelation to you; for we have knowledge of the identity of the attack on our wayward subjects in the provinces of Rintyaria and Ranstreimosa. We most sincerely express our own rage and fury at this event; and most especially that the prepatrator has escaped our grasp. Rest you assured, that should the review of this recording, blessed as it is by Aquamenria herself with the Truesight, should lead you to any advances in the location of this vile witch, the resources and fervor of the Empire of the Western Mystrias shall be cooperative with you. Indeed, we have ourselves given the order to begin the search; though we have not many blessings to begin with, we share them with you in this recording. Rest assured, we shall scour all the seas of the world, blessed be our quest by Aquamenria, Queen of the Seas, Mother of the Mer and Men, and if required, all the lands, blessed be our quest by Thalanias, Prince of the Islands, Father of Man and Beast, until we may give this necrotic witch by the title of Vahzen her comeuppance; for she has committed the ultimate sin, not only in the eyes of the mortal world, but the Gods and their Chosen Speaker.

May you find yourself ever blessed by backwinds,
Imperator Aetius Flavius of the Western Mystrias, Chosen Speaker of The Gods

[The Ctan]

The morgue was a quiet place, a deep storage in a planetoid far across the galactic disc, covered in nodal grid emitters that arointed all magic and divination, one of a warren of chambers where things and items of interest to the Insight Instrumentality were stored. Sterile white light illuminated drawers in rows. Each drawer was inset with a small label printed in mezzopict material, icons of necrontyr block script, marking one in particular as Corpse 00AF39CD. A small blue light blinked on the drawer and a display above the printed one flashed.

STASIS OFFLINE
RETRIEVAL UNDERWAY

The drawer slid out from among others, revealing a narrow human-shaped coffin, the necrontyr cartouche in miniature. Black metal, psycurium and other containment apparatus on it. Handholds and mechanical connectors showing on each surface.

A machine arm connected with it, lifting it from its position and rotating it ninety degrees, lifting it toward the middle of the room and sliding along a ceiling mounted rail, carrying the coffin through a long and narrow aisle, to a central accessway, and then finally an airlock.

Chemicals and rads were used to cleanse the coffin as it was laid on a peristaltic conveyor, doors opening, closing, opening, closing again, as it was moved to a larger travel capsule. The capsule moved up through a series of security gates, until it arrived in a room where an array of claws and saws and needles and other devices were prepared.

A connector unscrewed bolts on the coffin, and one of the mechanical arms removed the upper half of the coffin, revealing a dead woman within, clad in a layer of plastics that covered her like a second skin. It had been sprayed on, and showed a deep concave pit where an Atumite plasma repeater had blown the face off the corpse, a mortal wound.

The needles slid into the corpse. It was only four hours since its death, as the corpse had experienced time, it had been preserved in stasis since it had been retrieved on Aclateo Valaruth, and only briefly taken out of stasis when the Insight Instrumentality had taken possession of it.

Red blood pumped out of it, pulled by vacuum into a glass cylinder.

The needles withdrew, and a claw reached down to the left hand of the corpse, reaching out and lifting it, breaking it with a crack, before a laser sliced the finger from the hand entirely. Opening out the plastic material, and peeling it off, then the flesh. Claws came down and steam blasted the bone until it was bare, the cut away flesh was placed into a small cylinder of metal, set down. The blue plastic was sprayed onto the corpse again, sealing it again. Three small finger bones were retrieved.

The bones were carried with the blood, and another arm sealed the corpse, and the flensed flesh, back into its sealed coffin, making the journey back to its storage chamber.

The bone was carried to another machine in a side chamber, while the blood was pumped into a series of smaller phials. The sound of metal shrieking on metal sounded as the mill pulsed to full power, and the bone was dropped into it, crunching and cracking between cog-shaped wheels and then falling into the mill, three finger bones ground to powder in a moment, which slid into similar phials.

Sixteen identical portions of blood and bone were prepared, labelled with a casefile number, and prepared for transport in a vacuum sealed tray, lifted out of analysis and moved to another part of the planetoid’s deep-core storage.

The journey by portal took the samples across the galaxy, to the house of Kames, one of many diviners in the Great Civilization, he was what many would call a gnoll, or an anubian by the standards of his people. He took a series of pins, with small pores in a jewel at the top part of it, capillary attraction sucking a small portion of the blood into it, mixed with bone. He took one pin, then the next, and more and more, until he had hundreds.

He opened a book, D’ragoleth characters marching in lines across the page, as he spoke. Blood magic was not a speciality of his people but it was one that they had picked up in Mystria itself.

A projected map of the region of Thalassium and the surrounding areas appeared inside a ritual Zisurrû circle he had laid out in the work space, making a delineated, confined, space. He cast the pins into the circle, and held out his hand,

There were many clones, as blood magic worked, they were functionally twins, hunting them down by the ancient magical rules of sympathy would be the next step. It may not work, he had taken precautions against interference, but there were many clones already identified in Keizaal. Finding others would be worthwhile.

[The Ctan]

Anherc, Luminas Chancellery, Beastling States of Crystal Spires

Kalisah Maluven stepped off the tram with a spring in her step. A lot was going on in the world lately, but she was happy to get to work. She smiled and stepped out of the way of an elderly couple as they were stepping up to another tram stop nearby, and wound her way through the crowds. Anherc was one of the busiest cities in Crystal Spires, and an industrial centre.

She wound her way through several eateries around the tram stop though she surrendered to impulse and bought a coffee en route.

Three years ago this would have been a slower route, crossing over and between lanes of cars, since then most of the area had been pedestrianised, and the vehicular infrastructure of the city moved more underground and into the air, networks of smoothly gliding ride-on-demand AI managed vehicles flitted through the sky overhead, while freight lines and C’tani phase-runners ran underground. This turned the walk from the station into a single pedestrianised area broken up by water features and planters in a way that funnelled foot traffic to increase its speed.

She was a partner in the Anherc Medicothaumic Works, a sizable premises nearby, one of the famous magitech facilities that made up the western district. The factory building was one of several that made up the same development district, a little outside the cluster of retail around the tram stop.

Stepping into the lobby she took off her pistol and put it into a locker along with her sunhat and gun, and she swiped an ID badge over the terminal as she passed security with a smile as a file photo of her appeared on the screen in the security booth and the turnstile unlocked.

The factory floor hummed through the baffles and walls, even though she wasn’t there yet, stopping in a break room and looking in at the screen on the wall, showing the latest on the western crisis. She watched a commentator talking about the impacts of the attacks on the Rintyari and she looked at the clock. She had a few minutes until she would need to get ready.

Getting ready consisted of changing from street clothes in a set of nearby cubicles, white anti-static garments of pale white and hairnets, even one for her tail, followed, the factory floor tended to make her look permed if she went in there without, and that always made her cringe. More importantly, she had an aetheric exposure charm and a dispersal charm on that outfit, although the products made here were principally for healing, that didn’t mean there was no risk of industrial accident or overexposure.

Kalisah was actually a null, relatively common among beastlings, and it made it easier for her to work in this part of the factory, her safe exposure limits were ten times that of more magically gifted colleagues.

She stepped through an aetherlock onto the factory floor, pale mist restricted visibility, forming as runoff from a crystal that ran across much of the ceiling of the factory floor, fading out of sight into the distance. Machinery ran with chuntering clatters and she adjusted her ear protectors slightly, moving through inspection areas.

She stopped off at her usual workstation, and briefly spoke to Madua, before reliving him and looking over the production line in front of her. She didn’t spend too much effort checking he’d handed over everything in good order, he usually did, and he’d been here a while now. Lines of processed material ran through the machines near her, and she stopped to check each one. The routine of inspecting each would take some time, a task that she would repeat several times throughout the day.

The products on the production line were slender wands with a crystal of nenya’s ember and a synthetic crystal material called Laen, enclosed in ceramic sheaths with banded patterns and inscriptions that labelled them on an octagonal section below the main crystal.

She looked over the pool of wands as they backed up into a stack and fed into a hopper, into a soundproofed enchanting chamber that snapped a charge into each.

They’d been running this line continuously since the Grogar incident began, to meet export relief demand as well as domestic first responder use. She was glad she was in manufacture, though. It looked like the packaging team was going to have to add a few more feeds to their instruction leaflets before the day was out to fit with the new countries now in crisis.

Isasrach, Caltralia Sea

The decision that had been made by Lygngarma nos Dunnealc to relocate Isasrach off the coast of Valur Chancellery in Crystal Spires had been made after the Spirean government had declined the suggestion for a major arcology-hospital complex in the nation.

Isasrach had been built long before, as the headquarters facility for the VERITAS alliance, which was still active, but rarely made use of its extensive facilities. That had recently changed and the discussion had been had about redeploying the city, and how to replace it in Mystria.

The city was miles across, patterned after Lantea, the mobile capital of the Ancestors, as the Malgraveans termed them, or the Alterans, as they had described themselves, to the specifications of Aiyana Tiercean, who had at that time been the head of the international committee of the senate. The Great Civilization’s technology was not quite the equal of the Alterans in every area, but their materials science was better, and Isasrach was many times the size, but still fully mobile, with its own stardrives.

It had been positioned here to meet the needs of supporting the Spirean rebuilding effort, for the city was huge and of its six piers, substantial portions of two were hospitals, intended to treat major incidents including nuclear attacks, and more esoteric things.

Since the first strike had impacted Sheyana, the hospital facilities had been busy.

Their reaction was less dramatic than the orbital heroics of the Especially Sharp Rock, or the immediate incursion into the Dragon States, but they were no less important.

Yesterday less than ten per cent of the Isasrach facilities had been in active use. Spirean fortunes had improved, and their objections to positioning Great Civilization outreach hospitals on their land had vanished as the trust between the two nations had developed, leaving the facilities here largely in use for the most complex surgeries, and the rest returning to their surge capabilities.

To observers on the piers adjacent to the hospital piers, the night had been cut through as thousands of windows across hundreds of floors had lit at once. Flurries of system tests ran through chambers that rarely saw use. Cleaning systems scurried out of corridors that would soon be put to use.

The people were the next component, though the hospital staff were on a night shift at the time of the first rapport, though throughout the city wake up calls were sounding.

Flocks of aircraft were circling, most of them were capable of hypersonic flight, rescue flitters, that could even outpace the lean fighter aircraft made to the north, though these were capable of defending themselves too.

Some were bridge-head craft with teleport loci or site coordination drones whose backs bristled with search and rescue drones.

This wasn’t the first nuclear-esoteric attack that the city had responded to, though it was an almost permanent fixture here, it had travelled before and likely would again.

Vende nos Marwan was a raven-haired Menelmacari woman, who had served for centuries as the Governor-Captain of the city-ship. The morning found her in the operations center as her net was cast.

The city was not self-aware, but its may lesser AI were capable of sophisticated resource allocation and problem-solving. Coordinating with the ships in orbit, Vende’s command began to set down first responders - drone and organic alike.

Wall-mounted holograms showed overall status situations for each of the hospital complexes that made up the city’s vast capacity. She was keeping an element of capacity in reserve, time would tell if it was necessary, or if time and effort would be better spent at Sheyana.