Twilight of the Gods: A Metahuman RP (IC)

[Britanania]

OOC

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“Nothing under the sun is new, neither is any man able to say: Behold this is new: for it hath already gone before in the ages that were before us”--Ecclesiastes I:X

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Ruins of Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, 25 April 2020

After weeks of brutal fighting, what remained of Melbourne was now firmly in Dynastic hands.

After months of speculation, at the 19th Dynastic Congress, Resolution #24601 was passed by an overwhelming majority--the invasion and subjugation of Australia, by a combined Metahuman Army. All Dynasties were to provide support or risk censure and sanctions. This was, of course, to show the united front of the Dynastic Houses against the Resistance that had proven far too pugnacious for their tastes.

The attack, of course, started with the largest aerial bombardment against Australia in years, levelling coastal regions and causing widespread destruction. This was followed by landings from by non-meta forces in Melbourne, Sydney, and Adelaide, softening up the Resistance defenders before the invasion of metahumans themselves. The weeks that followed saw brutal street fighting and guerrilla attacks by the resistance against the Dynastic forces, but, inevitably, the sheer weight and power behind the Houses saw their victories and the key coastal cities were secured.

Melbourne was quickly converted into the headquarters for the Dynastic Forces, turning what remained of the Royal Exhibition Building into a meeting hall for the Congress as the metahuman leaders assembled to plan their next moves...

---

Viktoria von Eisenfaust arrived in the meeting hall, flanked by her entourage of guards, advisors, and commanders. The blonde metahuman scanned the room, taking her seat at the table. This month, Viktoria held the honour of presiding over the High Council, and although she disapproved at the crude tactics used to take Melbourne, she could not disagree with the results.

Would have been better to send us Metahumans in first and show our dominance, rather than give the Resistance time to prepare, the young woman thought, as the chamber began to fill with familiar faces, watching as old friends and rivals met and talked before the meeting began.

[Pragia]

Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, 14 January 2020

Teris was unhappy as he walked through the underground tunnel networks of the capital-complex. The High Council of the United Nations in Exile had made their decision, that they would conduct a firm defense of the key cities in the face of Resolution #24601. Gatekeeper had advocated passionately for falling back, ceding ground for a defense in depth in the deep outback where supply lines could be exposed, but such a proposal came with dangers the last leaders of free humanity could not entertain. If they could not hold their homes, after all, how could they hope to reclaim the world? Teris disagreed, of course. REDOUBT was not yet large enough to support refugees from the last bastions, and he knew that the coming weeks would be difficult. Almost every operation he was attached to was put on hold, so it seemed that he would participate in the defense of the coast. He needed to leave the muted grey halls, lit by dirty yellow lights that were forced to last long past their replacement date.

A purple hexagon would appear on the wall he was next to, and he’d turn to face it, a firm breeze and the smell of sea air entering the stale air of the hallway. It opened to what would normally be a picturesque vista of the Victoria coast, but he could see the dangers hidden in this. He knew in mere weeks these pristine sands would run red, as the hidden Anti-Personnel systems waited in camouflaged positions. It had been something he was against axiomatically: the slaughter of free humans while their enemies prepared like wolves circling a wounded deer. They had chosen servitude, and would see their fellow man slain in the name of their masters. It brought Teris sadness which quickly peeled away to rage. Why were people so willing to comply with these madmen? Had the human spirit indeed been so broken as to eagerly serve men who would never know them? He calmed himself. He knew that they had little choice in the matter, even a meta like himself could not reasonably claim agency in this choking world.

The High Council had decided that humanity would go out with a bang rather than a whimper, and while Gatekeeper could appreciate their ardent will, he knew it would be broken as it has for the last twenty years, and only hoped that flames of resistance could flicker. For now, he would do what he needed to do, help coordinate the defense of these cities for as long as he could, until the order to abandon their posts was given. Indeed a white plume agreed, a missile streaking up toward an invisible spec, some scouting aircraft far in the distance. More would come, and they would fire back, but only time would tell whether this would be the end of the Resistance.

---

Current Day, Royal Exhibition Building

Teris was present here. Of course, if anyone asked, he was Phase-R, a minor baron in the Texas State sent as part of the wider North American delegation. This identity was not entirely incorrect, as the Free State of Texas indeed granted Phase-R such a barony, but it had long since been led by a sympathetic meta assuming his identity and position. His addition to the delegation had been a long shot, but as far as Teris was aware, he was not suspect.

The last few weeks had been hard fought, but ultimately the strongpoints were now in ruins and the Resistance had fled into hiding and out into the outback. Teris mused to himself that such a move could be just what the group needed, to become a true shadow organization that did not have firm lands to be conquered at the cost of many lives. He was here to gather information, of couse, as he always was. The leaders of almost every Great House would be here to celebrate their victory, and while he wished that the council could have approved the transportation of a nuclear device to this location for a spiteful attack, it was evident that he would instead be watching and listening, perhaps engaging in some small talk.

He’d be wearing a suit, custom tailored of course. It was an odd mix of garb that many delegations chose to wear, from cultural clothing, to business attire, to even some who wore their costumes, living reminders of an era far less grim. He admired those who did, even if they fought for the wrong side, they had to know that there was something more. Every year there were fewer of them, the new nobility eschewing colorful outfits and themed spandex. It was childish, of course it was, but it projected an aura of warmness that went unappreciated these days.

[Miekzhemy]

Prince Khereid Dorjigiin Tolui-Noyan

---

The Great Empire of Yuan
The Imperial Palace - Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia

Had he not accidentally slept in today, he'd probably be at the War Council right now...

The Imperial Palace in Ulaanbaatar wasn't quite a "palace," as the word might indicate. It was more of a glorified legislative building, renovated and expanded into a mansion-sized home for Her Majesty and her many servants. It was much like the White House over in America until...well, that goes without saying, he supposed. He made a mental note to check in on the progress on the real Imperial Palace that still had yet to be completed in the ancient site of Karakorum. Perhaps, now that the old Forbidden City in Beijing was under their control, that may be a suitable temporary option?

Within one of the decorated mansion's many extravagant bedrooms, a figure stood, being dressed with the assistance of a servant.

"I do not need the assistance, you know," the figure said, though welcoming the woman's attempt to help him into the jacket of his Imperial regalia.

Prince Tolui was tall. A lanky young Mongol, whose unkempt black hair blatantly contradicted the neatly-trimmed beard and gilded uniform he was changing into. He easily towered a foot and a half above the servant that only continued her attempts to make him more presentable. She went about fastening the rope-like tassels to his spaulders, not missing a single fleck of dust on his blackened jacket and pants. He took a long time to fasten the former together, the buttons hidden below the overflapping flap of the coat's outer layer. It was unbearably tight - just as he always remembered it to be. He only hoped the inevitable meeting wouldn't be a long one.

For a time, his mind drifted to the rebellious continent to the south. He had heard the news from many sources around the globe over the past few weeks - of the devastation being wrought in the name of this "New World Order." Frankly, he did not know what to think of it all. He abhorred the senseless killing that just kept dragging on, yet part of him understood the rebels' plight. He remembered the days before, when his father and his contemporaries pulled the rug out from underneath the entire world. No doubt they wanted things to return to the way hey were before. And no doubt the new regimes were going to use everything in their power to keep that from happening.

But how much blood would be spilled before one side stood alone...?

"Thank you," Tolui said, taking the pair of white dress gloves the woman handed her. She gave the Prince a respectful bow, one which he returned from behind the servant's back as she exited his room. He stepped stoically to his bedside, sweeping up the small photograph he had left on his bedside. At least they were kind enough to send him a picture of the meeting hall itself. It saved him a lot of trouble. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, and let his mind call the picture to life.

---

Royal Exhibition Building - Melbourne, Australia

As the meeting chamber began to stir with more activity, a patch of air - almost unintentionally right in front of a certain Viktoria von Eisenfaust and her typically extensive entourage - began to stir. It shifted and contorted as if it were heat haze for only a fraction of a second, until emitting an audible pop.

In an instant, Tolui now stood in its place, his hair and uniform billowing out for a moment, and the heels of his shoes clacking on the marble floor as he landed on his two feet. As he adjusted his jacket and turned around, he surprised himself for a moment, seeing the uniformed woman in her...usual resting expression of dubious amusement. Damn it! He did it again, didn't he...?

"Ah--! Oh, verzeihung," he said, switching to his surprisingly well-versed German for a moment. The towering Mongol momentarily bowed his head. "I must have miscalculated my arrival point..."

[Revlona]

Royal Exhibition Building - Melbourne, Australia

Alana Henderson was already tired of this Congress and it hadn’t even started. She had little patience for politicking and preferred action. The conquest of Melbourne had provided just that, and just like her employer Alana had chafed at being held back for a time. When finally released to do her bloody work, she had carved through the resistance, painting the streets with the only color she knew how to paint with. It had disappointed her how readily the coward sub-humans of the resistance had resorted to guerrilla warfare, that had chafed as well.

Now she found herself accompanying her employer, Viktoria, to the war council. Even if she despised the politics she had found a certain pleasure in being brought along. It showed the trust Viktoria had placed in her, either with her martial prowess as a guard or her words as an advisor she cared not.

It was the former which was tested almost immediately after entering the hall. A ripple in space showed itself directly before their entourage and she had acted immediately, her supernatural reaction speed allowing her to place herself between her employer and the ripple before any of the others could act. The young sword master reaction proved to be unnecessary though as a man who spoke with ease to Viktoria appeared.

Alana took a step back, out of her employers path and bowed her head ever so slightly. “My apologies Ma’am,” she said, her hand slipping from the hilt of her blade which had been half drawn.

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Gao Guan-Yin - Royal Exhibition Building - Melbourne, Australia

---

Guan-Yin entered the meeting room, towering over the vast majority of it's participants, as she usually did on account of two meter height. In so far as there were people she could recognize in the room, she was able to do so in moments thanks to the enhanced awareness that made her near-hypersonic speed manageable, tho of course the one who was presiding over the meeting, to Guan-Yin's chagrinm The Nazi, von Eisenfaust, caught the plurality of her attention. Despite the woman being quite literally half her size, Guan-Yin tried keep her distance her distance from her when feasible, but it wasn't particularly feasible today.

After all, being in the mix would be key to ensuring that The South Han would have the influence in the region that they needed. For economic reasons, Guan-Yin was never particularly supportive of actually crushing this last rebel stronghold, but when it became clear that the invasion had built enough prerequisite support, she had no choice but the enthusiastically support it so to ensure that she got sufficient hand on the spoils of this conflict, or at very least would be well positioned to ensure who did was favorable to her interests.

Enthusiastic support, in this case, meant supporting a selectively brutal violent military campaign. Despite having, at least in abstract, a far more humanitarian view of the treatment when it came to the humans, she reserved none of that for the rebel leadership, nor the infrastructure of the nation. To her, war was inescapably brutal and barbarous, with the best way to limit the pain and suffering being to limit the length of the war and target the suffering at leadership and their capacity to resist. More than once she'd personally picked out rebel commanders, and crippled and maimed them so that she could leave their broken, but very much alive bodies for their comrades to find. Metahuman's with the resistance got it particularly bad. She'd give them an opportunity of clemency, but upon it's rejection, that'd be the end of them, regardless of further pleading for surrender. As for infrastructure, be in roads, bridges, powerlines, dockyards or trainlines, those had to go as well, though her motivation regarding targeting them went into her intention for the area after the conclusion of this war. In fact, the conduct she'd allow her forces in that regard would likely have a whole lot to do with how this meeting went.

[Arlye Austros]

Canberra’s Husk. April 25th.

A couple of ghastly eyes looked back at him, hovering over the ruined leftovers of the city across the Burley. They seemed to hover above the ruins of Parliament. José remembered walking between its walls the day after its last session. The eyes looked back at him, distracting his gaze form the remains of a city that was now a graveyard, scarcely populated by adventurers and marauders. Then darkness.

José Alejandro Menzendorf looked away from the window, trying not to think of the old Canberrans now living outside of the city, in camouflaged buildings and interred dwellings. At least the Null Fields kept them somewhat safe. Give them time until their squadrons could scramble and support them. Not that it saved a lot of lives to begin with. He looked across the small car. A voice announced in English they were about to stop in Black Mountain Refuge. It had been an hour of travel to get here.

The man sitting across the hallway, the Military Governor of Jones’ Creek, looked back to him and smiled. “I was dreaming of home. My kids used to swim in Inanda Dam.”
José didn’t reply. They had more actual things to worry about. The train seemed to slow down, and the veins and cracks in the rock became visible, ever moving slower through the window. He stood up and grabbed his suitcase. José wished he had dressed better before leaving Mount Buller the day before.

He didn’t exchange words with his the other travellers. He just moved out of the train and into the underground platform. On it lines formed, and one after another the representatives of what remained of humanity went under identity scans, touching a needle for blood samples and getting retina scans under intense Null Fields. José passed under the screening and followed the led-illuminated path through a tunnel, then climbed some stairs. Rules demanded they kept their distance from one another at all time. So the man before him was always two metres away, and the one behind him did as well. At each floor there was an armed guard. At the fourth floor they snatched the one in front of him through a door. The next floor was his’s.
“Here, sir.” A woman in brown-toned camouflage and wielding a rifle he had never used before signaled José through the door. He followed, and it was only a hallway bending right, then straight towards a door. He knew several security systems were still checking his identity.

The room was dark, illuminated by the light of a projector. As if it was still the 20th century. The people inside, between ten and fifteen, all watched silently the images. Sydney was burning. Plumes of smoke rising on the skyline as the point of view, probably supersonic fighter overflying Botany Bay, zoomed on the outskirts of the city. The narrow bay.
“As you can see. Fighting is somewhat still going on Sydney. HC is considering you to support a counteroffensive.” A female voice in the dark said before the image changed once more. “These are Bio-stunning artillery pieces.”

This time a row of artillery pieces, aiming up in the sky, half entrenched and manned, opened fire. “As you are aware, these are designed to slow down the enemy. But we must be careful, as they are also highly effective on our own troops.”
A hand raised in the dark. José recognized Andrew Barr. “How many of these do we have?”
The voice, which José now spotted to come from a woman standing by the projection, replied. “Six units are functioning in the front. With eleven on their way and six reported to be under repairs. We have twenty-one in the southern front and nine in total near Adelaide.”

There was a pause without questions. The lights went on and the projection died as the screen raised into the ceiling. The stand was soon occupied by a man who José recognized as the Admiral of Tasmania.

“Gentlemen. Our task is to hold on to Sidney, regardless the events on other fronts.”
José remembered Sydney. No wonder they assigned him to that front, despite being closer to the southern theatre.
“Have you considered this is a distraction?” A woman with indigenous attire challenged the Admiral. “It seems the attack was more determined in Melbourne than Sydney.”
The Admiral nodded. “Intelligence suggests this is because they have gathered their logistic assets in Melbourne. What little recon we still can make have confirmed communication traffic is more intense there, and our Echo units are betting for a large concentration of Metahumans as we speak.”
“If we could just nuke them!” Somebody whispered in the row behind José.

José raised his hand. “Admiral. Are we still in possession of naval assets?”
The man nodded. “As of now. I am afraid we don’t know. We lost contact with the Union and the Pacific three and one hour ago respectively. But we don’t know a couple of Collins subs and Perth are in the Sydney bay supporting small pockets of resistance.”

“How long do you estimate they will last?” Another voice asked. The Admiral seemed grim.
“Twelve at most. We must mobilize quick.”
Somebody asked about intelligence. The Admiral didn’t name his sources. José knew it was Teris, so he grunted.
“This is beyond our task, gentlemen. Please, let’s focus on the counter-attack.”

Mount Buller

The bell rang and the door opened. Federico didn’t see any of it. He was just sitting in his room, back against the wall, looking at the rows of pebbles and rocks that laid on a table above his bed. He wasn’t particularly interested in them. Though his face denoted intense contemplation. He heard the voice of Santiago and Carolina, giggling to something. Why wasn’t she with the Orwells?

“What is it, mom?” His brother asked at the entrance. “They sent us home from school early.”
“Your father left this morning, but its gotten worse.” María, their mother, replied. Her voice muffled by the padding over the anti-bomb materials of their tunnel. “Melbourne’s fallen.”
Carolina gasped, nearly whimpered.

He would be sent off. Perhaps to Sydney, or maybe Adelaide. He was scared. Federico could face off a line of monsters in the grass tunnel, but he was afraid of war. Hopefully it would be Sydney. His father would be in charge there, mother muttered.
But it was all still too early.

“Just like that?” Carolina asked. “I mean… There were bombings and all. But suddenly it’s gone?”
No reply, at least not right away. There was a metal clanging and the sound of a bowl laid on the kitchen table. “I will go back home. Mom and dad must be worried.” She said, then a door was opened and shut a few seconds later.

“Go do your homework and stay in your room, Santi.”
“Sure, mom. Do you need anything?” His brother asked. But there was not a reply Federico could make of the muffled sounds.
He sighed. Should he be the one holding the family together now?
His brother appeared on the hallway and looked into his room, at Federico sitting on the floor.

“You alright? Didn’t wait for us.”

Federico forced a smile. “You both are big enough to walk the C-passage and turn back home. How is Rola?”
His brother nodded. “Worried.” The reply was short, as it was to be. “You?”

But Federico only shrugged. His brother cracked a slight smile. “Come on. I am sure they will iron something out. Besides, we are safe here. Don’t worry.”
“Oh. I am not worried about bombs. It’s just a big change. You know.” Was he allowed to say that? “Anyway. You two took your sweet time. The girls are already back.”
Santiago rolled his eyes. “Of course she is.” He didn’t continue to his room. Instead he walked into Federico’s and shut the door behind. “So. You think they will negotiate? Fight back?”

“If it was up to dad…” He ventured. “He would fight back. How… That’s what I wonder.”
He had heard stories of assassinations and executions. If a Meta could simply materialize and cut their throats in a minute, why would the men go out and fight so far from home and their families? Shouldn’t they die all together?
“Yeah. Sounds like him. Maybe they will fight them off Melbourne. Although I hear it’s a ruin for a time now. Not much to retake.”

They wouldn’t. Federico knew.
“Just go to your room like mom said.”


Camberra’s Husk. Black Mountain Refuge.

It was a plan, at least. But José couldn’t help thinking they were in the dark. He sent a message to Buller.
Detach scouts. Gather the Hunters… He hesitated before adding the rest. Call up the reconciled.

He was thinking of less than a handful of Metahumans living in Mount Buller. People like Teris Renner who either ended up as young refugees before discovering their power or decided it was better to put it in the service of Humanity, instead of turning against it. He didn’t trust any of them. Especially he didn’t trust Renner. But hell knew they needed him now. He sent the message, already regretting typing those words to be heavily encrypted. He then sent another message to María.
Tell Federico to be strong.

[Demencia]

The Morrígan - Badb and Nemain

While Macha handled things at the Council meeting for now, Badb and Nemain wanted to have some fun. The regular troops of the Dynasties weren't having much issue with the resistance, the metahuman forces would likely decimate them. Still, The Morrígan was a goddess of battle, and it was hard to keep her away from a good fight. It was where the most deaths occurred, after all. There were few things the old god enjoyed more than sending soldiers to their death, especially in such a futile effort.

Finding a pocket of soldiers wasn't very difficult, they were spread throughout the city in a vain attempt to retake it. The two sisters exchanged a knowing glance, a wicked grin on their faces. Nemain shifted into a bird on flew down to the ground and landed amongst them. Once in the center of them, the bird let out a bloodcurdling scream. The soldiers all winced at the sound, but also in fear. Suddenly, they began to turn their weapons on themselves and each other. The bird took back to the air, its song somewhat resembling a cackle.

Badb, not wanting to miss out on the fun, took the form of a crow and also began to fly. A nearby squad of soldiers, no doubt drawn by the sound of screams and gunfire, would make a perfect target. She cried out to them, the caw of her form ringing out across the streets. A few of them turned to look at her, and she only cawed in response. The bird landed in a nearby tree, and stopped cawing. Instead, corpses of Nemain's victims began to speak instead. "There was no hope for us..." they all cried in unison. "Why didn't you help us? You could have... saved... us..." the voices choked out, but it was enough to put fear in the hearts of the soldiers. Many turned and ran, a few dropping their weapons in the process.

The lapwing form of Nemain landed in the tree next to Badb, and they watched the soldiers flee. The pair guffawed at their success, satisfied with the amount of chaos and death they'd caused.

[Northern Socialist Council Republics]

Melbourne, State of Victoria, Australia,
25th April 2020 C.E.

The Reporter took his seat, yawning inside his powered armour. Conferences and meetings like these have never really been his thing, but alas, necessity remained. The risk of a random act of terror was too great for a metahuman with no physical defensive powers and Rikissa was holed up in Castle Rosengard back in Scania, while Colin was busy in Sydney creating abominations against nature. Somebody had to represent the Rosengards at the most comprehensive assembly of the world's metahuman powers since the last Regular Congress and, so, here Raynor sat.

With a small and rather risk-averse metahuman population, the Nordic Commonwealth still relied heavily on human soldiers for its defence; a stance that was heavily reflected in the Commonwealth's contribution to the Australian campaign. There were just two Nordic metahumans on the continent, Raynor himself and some no-name Junior Seneschal, leading a small infantry company of 120 personnel and a bomber wing. That unfortunately meant that the Commonwealth was rather underrepresented in this wartime meeting of metahumans here in Melbourne.

Really. He was a no less passionate believer of metahuman supremacy than anyone else in the room, but Raynor still felt that the Commonwealth held the right way forwards. Sure, the dynasties' metahumans could certainly beat around any battlefield force that these Australian terrorists could field. But if anyone thought that they could garrison and occupy an entire continent with a few hundred metahumans, they were deluded in the extreme.

Upon taking his seat in the conference room, he realised very quickly that nobody seemed to be driving forwards the whatever agenda they were all here for.

"So you've called us all here," Raynor shouted from a sedentary position, vaguely gesturing at the representatives of the great houses clustered among the high tables and more particularly interrupting Prince Tolui's conversations with the South American leader. Parliamentary codes of conduct, too, have never really been his thing. "What's this all about?"

[Nagakawa]

Ryugo Saeki and Ryuju Saeki
Melbourne

In the waning days of the battle of Melbourne, Australian billionaire and secret Resistance financer Daniel Pritchard took his wife and, accompanied by his bodyguards, made an attempt to flee the city. With sunrise upon them in the early hours of the morning of 25 April 2020, the couple and their entourage holed themselves up in a small abandoned office building to rest, surrounded by their bodyguards, taking a short respite before the next leg of their escape.

Unfortunately for Pritchard, he had made his fair share of enemies in the past, and most of them were not particularly prone to letting go of past grievances.

Fatigued as they were, the three bodyguards standing outside the building failed to notice the decidedly ordinary-looking car that had pulled over a few blocks down, from which two shadowy figures emerged and hastily made their way towards the building. By the time they noticed, the smaller of the two figures flicked his hand, and all three of them found themselves with bitingly icy projectiles puncturing their throats and frothy blood foaming in their mouths.

"Three down", the smaller of the two men whispered to the larger one. "Mr. Magomedov's intel tells us that Pritchard's got five total, which means..." He stood in front of the automatic glass doors to the small office building, waving his hand to try and trigger the sensor. When that didn't work, he forced his gloved fingers into the gap, and with a grunt, manually pried the door open.

"Hey, Ryuju."

"What?" The smaller man turned to face his larger companion.

"Do we kill his wife too?"

"Mr. Magomedov didn't say. Personally, I think we probably should."

The two quietly made their way down the main entrance of the office and pulled the door of the fire escape staircase open, before hastily making their way upstairs to the second of the building's two floors, whereupon the larger of the two men kicked the door open.

"Jesus Christ."

A stench of blood and gore burst forth from the now open door, and the two came face to face with a field of butchered corpses.

"That's one... two... three... four... My God, that's Pritchard. And that's his brains on the wall there. Why are there so many bodies? There's at least... six, seven... nine..."

"Ryugo Saeki. Ryuju Saeki."

At the end of the corridor stood a woman in a business suit, drenched in blood and carrying in her left hand a nagamaki. As Ryugo and Ryuju steadied themselves and sized the woman up, she turned round and brandished her weapon, the blade of which had a slightly bluish hue to it. From the windows came the first rays of the dawn's light, scattering the darkness of the office building and shining a warm, radiant light upon the gore strewn across the floor.

"Who the fuck is that?" Ryuju scowled.

"No clue", said Ryugo.

The woman flicked her sword sharply, scattering the blood that clung to it like dew to a blade of grass.

"It seems like a lot of people hated Daniel Pritchard", she mused, sheathing her nagamaki in one swift motion and stepping through the bodies to where the dead businessman's body lay. "By the time I got here, he and his family were already dead. I had to kill off all the other hitmen."

Ryuju raised an eyebrow.

"We'll keep it a secret between us three", said the woman, nodding to the two and walking off to the main staircase. "You can tell Khalid Magomedov that the job's been done."

"How do you-" Ryugo began, but before he could complete his question, the woman had vanished.

The time was now 6:30AM. The sun had risen, drenching the city of Melbourne in its golden morning light. Ryugo quickly headed to the windows and threw them open, letting in fresh air to dilute the highly offensive stench inside the building, while Ryuju stood over one of the bodies- a woman of about forty years old, holding on tight to Daniel Pritchard's shirt, a deep gash running across her throat. Quietly, he stooped over the body, placed his hand over her forehead, and reverently closed her eyes.

Their job was done.

"Hey Ryugo."

"What?" Ryugo leaned on the windowsill and looked out into the distance. Melbourne had been scorched by conflict between the metahuman forces and the Resistance, and yet there was still something inexplicably soothing about seeing the sun rise above the ruins.

"Once we've cleaned up, let's go find something to eat."

The tall and muscular Ryugo turned around and leaned on the windowsill.

"Kebabs?"

Ryuju thought for a moment.

"Kebabs it is."

...

---

Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne

The delegations of the Lei Family and the Hikawa Clan did not at first acknowledge each other's presence- a natural thing to do, given the sour history between their two families and the conflict that had started it all. Still, the delegations did not include the two families' bosses, the main perpetrators of the feud to begin with, and so eventually, just shortly the congress was to begin, the leaders of the Lei and Hikawa delegations had a brief, clandestine meeting.

"Mr Kunikazu Ashihara?"

The leader of the Hikawa Clan's delegation was a short but muscular man in a tailored pinstripe suit, his eyes covered by sunglasses. In contrast, the leader of the Lei Family's delegation was taller and slimmer, and wore a navy blue Mao suit. Occupying a small ante-room outside of the main meeting hall in which the leaders of the Dynasties had been convened, the two delegations cautiously faced off, as their leaders went up to each other like two alphas challenging each other.

"Pleasure to meet you. I am Hu Tzi-peng. Secretary to Lei Tjin-fei."

Ashihara moved close to Hu in order to speak out of earshot of anyone else.

"Toyonari Hikawa is dying. He will not survive the year."

"I see."

Ashihara tapped Hu on the shoulder affirmatively and took a step back.

"I hope that in the future, we can find a way to settle our differences", said the Japanese. "I, for one, am growing weary of this conflict. But for now, we must remain enemies, unfortunately."

Hu nodded solemnly. Without another word, he turned back to the rest of the entourage that had followed him to the Metahuman congress, and with one quiet nod, beckoned to them to follow him into the meeting hall, leaving Ashihara and his delegation outside. All around were the others who had been summoned to decide the future of the world and the fate of the vanquished Resistance's leaders. Already, it seemed most of the important people were around- the Mongolians were here, as was the Emperor of the South Han. The president of this iteration of the High Council was punctual, as expected- the young blonde lady sat imposingly inside.

Kunikazu Ashihara made to go inside, but just as his delegation started to follow, he stopped dead in his tracks, reaching into his pocket, and bringing a cigarette to his mouth.

"Sorry", he said. "Need a quick one to calm the nerves."

...

[Britanania]

Royal Exhibition Building, Ruins of Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, 25 April 2020

Viktoria was going over her notes as her fellow metahuman and their aides, delegates, and entourages filtered into the spacious hall. She remained largely immune to the idle chatter that began to fill the air, filling her mind instead with the various matters in her dossier--military reports, mostly, but also other matters for the congress.

That was, until a certain metahuman appeared in front of her, displacing her immaculately placed notes and causing a reaction from her loyal Ritter. The Kaiserin frowned but said nothing at first. Viktoria, of course, recognised the mistaken man. Prince Tolui of Yuan, the Regent to the young empress.

Viktoria rose to her full height--which was not much--and bowed after his apology.

"Entschuldigung angenommen," she replied to the prince, going for an overly formal response, turning her attention to the voice of an interruption. Viktoria regarded the man, Raynor Rosengard, Chief Director of the Nordic Office of Paranormal Affairs, representing his sister at the Congress.

"Unser kriegsrat, Herr Rosengard," she replied, perhaps a bit stiffly, to the Nordic metahuman. She switched to English, although, she considered Russian or French. There was no official language used for the Congress, although English and French were the default choices. "How we shall handle the Resistance and the aftermath."

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Royal Exhibition Building, Ruins of Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, 25 April 2020

Viktoria was going over her notes as her fellow metahuman and their aides, delegates, and entourages filtered into the spacious hall. She remained largely immune to the idle chatter that began to fill the air, filling her mind instead with the various matters in her dossier--military reports, mostly, but also other matters for the congress.

That was, until a certain metahuman appeared in front of her, displacing her immaculately placed notes and causing a reaction from her loyal Ritter. The Kaiserin frowned but said nothing at first. Viktoria, of course, recognised the mistaken man. Prince Tolui of Yuan, the Regent to the young empress.

Viktoria rose to her full height--which was not much--and bowed after his apology.

"Entschuldigung angenommen," she replied to the prince, going for an overly formal response, turning her attention to the voice of an interruption. Viktoria regarded the man, Raynor Rosengard, Chief Director of the Nordic Office of Paranormal Affairs, representing his sister at the Congress.

"Unser kriegsrat, Herr Rosengard," she replied, perhaps a bit stiffly, to the Nordic metahuman. She switched to English, although, she considered Russian or French. There was no official language used for the Congress, although English and French were the default choices. "How we shall handle the Resistance and the aftermath."

"Give their rank and file mercy, keep an eye on their well known commanders, wipe out their competent mid-level commanders." Replied Guan-Yin, her English in the British accent of her mother.

"If we kill off the rank and file, we give them nothing to lose and earn the perpetual hatred of those who knew them but we do not kill. Better to let them walk If we kill off their well known commanders, competent or not, they become martyrs for their cause for others to rally behind. Better to keep an eye on their activities, taking out those concerning to us that interact with them whil leaving them alive leading to those who'd otherwise look up to them to grow to hate their old heroes. If, however we kill off their mid-level commanders, the bottom can not be effectively be directed by the top, we have fewer people swearing vengeance against us, we'll have disemboweled a second resistance before it has the chance to start and if we manage to leave the fools among them alive, their ineptitude will do our job for us." Guan-Yin continued.

"I think it's a sufficient mix of decisive, painful punishment, with a hint of mercy."

[Bingellia]

AIsling Keyes and the Morrigan - Macha
Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne
Cowritten by Bingellia and Demencia

---

The bombed-out streets of Melbourne didn't bother Aisling as she and Macha walked them. The scent of ash and death pervaded the city and the occasional bursts of gunfire or the rumble of a bomb detonating caused her heart to race. Some primal part of her, some part that she hadn't been aware of before entering her master's service, enjoyed the madness of it all but the occasional scream of a raven over the field was the source of well-hidden anxiety as she lazily held her axe over her shoulder.

She knew well that Macha was the natural choice of the three to go as the delegate, if only by a thin margin. The old woman she was escorting through the streets didn't really need her, but it was good for appearances. It kept those back home afraid of both of them and, nevertheless, combat was good for keeping Aisling's skills sharp.

"Will the others be joining us at this congress, ma'am," Aisling broke the silence between them. Part of her regretted asking as soon as she finished. It wasn't exactly the smartest question to ask, at least from her point of view.

Despite her seemingly frail appearance owing to her age and use of a cane, Macha easily kept up with the much younger Aisiling. Unlike her escort, she was totally unfazed by the sounds of combat in the distance. Her eyes remained forward, never deviating from the trail until the headless woman spoke.

"Aye, we will all be present soon, once Badb and Nemain finish having their fun." she replied. The old woman stepped off the path a little towards a tree and extended a hand to hold onto one of its branches. "Ah, I see..." she said, her gaze distant. "Yes, we will get there before them. They made another detour along the way."

"Of course, ma'am," Aisling answered, waiting for Macha to resume walking before she did. It wasn't far before they could finally see the Royal Exhibition Building. She lazily scanned the building, with a bored expression already forming her face. "Is there anything I ought to know Ma'am?" She asked as she took the lead as they drew closer to the entrance to the grand building.

Macha gazed up and down the building. "Other than it's likely going to be incredibly boring? No." she said. The woman took a few steps away from the building, into the gardens around it. They'd suffered from the battle; some of the trees had fallen or died, the grass was wilting and the animals were nowhere to be seen. The goddess raised her gnarled stick and tapped it into the ground once.

Immediately, a wave of green went out from the pair as the flora returned to life. Trees sprouted leaves again, and the fields of flowers were no longer bare. The calls of the kookaburra rang out in the previously empty atmosphere, and a flock of ducks flew overhead towards the fountain.

Macha turned back to Aisling. "No care for the land, they have." the old witch grumbled. "What good is ruling over a patch of ground if you have to salt it to take control"

"Yes, ma'am. Better to be a begger than king of the ashes," Aisling answered as she watched the gardens be reborn. Her eyes twinkled with a fleeting sense of whimsy as Macha used her power and was slightly envious of the druid as the beauty of nature came twisted and turned around them. The study of magic, it seemed, eluded Aisling, but the beauty served both as a welcome distraction and something to anticipate. However, she soon forced herself back to reality as she flanked the entrance, allowing Macha to enter first.

[Pragia]

Coastal Battery 8-B, February 14th, 2020

The last few weeks had been a hellish time for Gatekeeper. There were many more planes than they had missiles, air defense stations having already blown through over 40% of their stockpiled front-line reserves in three weeks. It was another day of recovering munitions and hauling supplies for the Porter. His powers barely taxed him anymore, they were hardly intensive when he was honing them two decades ago, and now it just felt like reflex. He would move toward a wall, knowing where he wanted to go, and going straight through into a new hallway. His badges and patches were all that were preventing internal security from pumping him full of holes, but thankfully most were able to IFF before pulling the trigger on someone coming out of the walls, admittedly not something to be expected from the paranoid grunts of the Armed Forces.

Behind him was a train pf pallets of ammunition, 20mm CIWS rounds for the coastal batteries. Enemy guided missile fire was intense, and he was taking a significant risk even under 10 meters of dirt and fortified concrete. He started waving the auto-jacks through, knowing that they'd be requesting more by the end of the next day. This was not normally his business, he knew logistics chains to be sure, he was managing one that stretched from Canberra to another planet, after all, but the military needed more than they had thought, and the enemy was bringing more than they were prepared to handle.

Once the pallets had made it through, he got an alert on his PDA and cursed. Enemy amphibious forces had begun their approach just South of Geelong. He waited for a few moments, opening a portal to the town, before hopping through a couple more to the coast. The station commander there shot him personally in the shoulder with a 9mm as he entered, a wound that would heal and one that he could deal with for now. After complimenting his reaction time, the Porter requested enemy positions, and he began to take his own action. It would take a few minutes, but he would identify the Amphibious Command Ship Hailong and make his way aboard. He wouldn't even try the infiltration act, such subtlety was the luxury of people with time to spare. To his shock, the command staff seemed to be baselines, even if all he could get was peaking into their bridge from an eye-sized portal. Nevertheless, he did what needed to be done.

He returned to the base, requested demolition charges, and planted them behind bulkheads. He cursed himself as he set the timers, there could be no warnings, no calls to abandon ship. He had to buy all the time he could for the defenders. Operations like this would be necessary, and nothing more. As the ship separated, he could only watch from the bunker as men drowned. He forced himself to watch, to know that he was supposed to be the one saving people from this fate, not causing it. He could create portals and take prisoners, but there would be no where to keep them. This was what war made even supermen into, and it had to end, one way or another.

---

Teris would have his shades on as he stood in the observation level over the congressional floor. He could be down there, in the thick of debates, perhaps even making suggestions at the expense of the other Lords, but this would not be his place to draw attention to himself. Though sometimes the best disguise was the one everyone was looking at, that maxim didn't apply when people could read minds and divine your past and future. Instead he would stay in the gallery, making small talk with other dignitaries. He was, of course, recording what was said with a concealed non-broadcasting shielded recorder for analysts to parse later.

It was strange, looking at the dignitaries. There were some he even recognized from the Millennium War, he remembers faces well after all. As far as the meta world was concerned, he was a wash out, someone who had tremendous power, who could have even challenged Kelvin when she took lordship over North America at Columbia's selection, at least controlled a large swathe of his homeland, started a dynasty of his own. Instead, he was isolated his small holding, completely uninvolved politically beyond his occasional meetings with other former USMPP heroes. His old life and achievements gave him an easy out, he could leave the Resistance if he so chose, but he could never in good conscious. He owed what remained of humanity for his betrayal. He owed the millions who gave their lives to ensure that the flames of hope do not burn out.

[Naval Monte]

New London, Albion, March 20, 2020

The beeping that came from the phone by the bed rang out as the screen illuminate in a bright light showing the number and icon of the individual calling. A groan came from the bundle the blanket was in the form off as the mound began to move and be pulled back to reveal the very tired and irritated form of Alex; long hair having many strands sticking out, a strap on her sleeping gown pulled down from her shoulder, and a trail of drool that left from one corner of her mouth and slide down her chin.

The Thaumarch would rub her eyes with her left hand as she reached over and grabbed her phone with the other, pressing the speaker button. "What is it and could you have called at a more reasonable hour?" the tired witch asked as she let out a yawn.

"Sorry ma'am. But our agents in Australia have contacted us. They have found some valuable data that may aid in a future strike against the resistance hiding in that miserable wasteland." the news made the witch more alert.

"Send what you have to my computer now." she demanded as she quickly got up from her bed. As she reached for the polish steel desk the speaker at the other end would say.

"We already sent a copy of what our agents found. We are still complying a few streams of data but what we have so far will greatly aid in delivering a crushing blow to the rebels and lowering casualties from our end." Alex allowed the man at the other line to speak as she input her password and quickly check to find the message she got. She would read through what was present and a smile would slow form.

"This is brilliant!" she exclaimed. "This can show the others the merits of my system." what she kept was the fact that she felt that this can show to the members of the Congress the value of having her as a member if they ever wish to remove the current leader of West Europe.

"Shall we send what we have to the dynastic lords ma'am?" the voice asked as other voices can be heard.

"Yes. This needs to be shared so that way the intel we found can aid with whatever plans they have regarding Australia. In the meantime we should also make our plans because it is only a matter of time until we are called in to aid with the strike. It would be bad form for us to be absent after providing such a treasure trove of information after all."

The caller would hang up as they began the work of sending the data to the other great lords. Alex would scroll through the pages the file had as the smile was still on her face.

"I can already see it. This is going to be the beginning of a new era." the witch began to chuckle as she began to feel excited at the possibilities this development would bring for her and the Thaumatarchy.

---

Royal Exhibition Building - Melbourne, Australia, 25 April 2020

Standing in front of the closed door that would lead into the most important meeting hall in the world at this moment Alex had her back towards it as she clapped her hands together and took a deep breath before exhaling.

"Alright Alex. Just about every important metahuman around the world will be in the room with you. You have to make a good impression right now." the witch muttered to herself. Now wearing her witch based attire she also had a satchel on her containing everything from potions, amulets, ritual materials, and more. However in the bag was the two most important items. A disk and files. Contain with both were more intel her agents gathered about the enemy.

As she planned out on how to make a good impression she knew that right now her agents were working on performing whatever acts of sabotage and espionage they can to weaken the enemy for the metahuman army. Beyond the agents present the troops that made up the Thaumatarchy's Defense Force consisted largely of automated killing machines being controlled by organic masters and the few organic soldiers being sent to bring out precise strikes.

The Thaumatarchy forces may have added their forces into the greater army but whereas most prefer to drown the enemy with large numbers and overwhelming power, the Thaumatarchy instead choose to focus their strikes on key weaknesses to the rebels to further weaken them and make defeat more imminent. The soldiers fighting consisted of both metahumans and normal people. Unlike most who believed strongly the ideals of metahuman supremacy the Thaumarch didn't care for such petty ideals, especially when it brought forth inefficient results to her realm?

So long as a person knows how to use a gun who cares if they have powers?

The witch took a deep breath again. "I alright Alex. It's now or never." She would turn around and face the door.

"Just flash your winning smile and improvise everything from there." she would make a smile as she pushed open the door.

As she enter the room she began to look around the different people that attended. The witch would spot some seats still being empty. Which was fine with her. She didn't mind being fashionably late but she had a feeling that for this event doing that would cause nothing but trouble for her.

When her eyes fell upon Viktoria her smile faded. She would see Guan-Yin talking with her along with Raynor.

"So who is the leader of this invasion? I have some information my agents were able to get about the rebels." Alex said to everyone in the room as she looked around.

[Northern Socialist Council Republics]

Melbourne, State of Victoria, Australia,
25th April 2020 C.E.

The Reporter raised his eyebrows, but didn't reply. Well, didn't reply out loud, anyways: his thoughts were less than complementary.

What is there to discuss that hasn't already been talked over to death?

Sometimes Raynor wasn't even sure whether the great metahuman houses intended to conquer Australia or destroy it. Between the intensive aerial bombings and the unavoidable collateral of metahuman warfare in both lives and property, he was pretty sure that there wouldn't be much of Australia left to rule over when everything was done and the dust settled. Frankly, he pitied whoever was going to be charged with the responsibility of trying to keep some kind of society running amidst the ruins.

But if the war was just about removing the Resistance as a threat and the metahuman forces didn't care about just destroying Australia, and evidence suggested that the great houses very much didn't care, then why not open with the nuclear arsenal? Raynor knew for a fact that the Rosengards' Commonwealth wasn't the only vassal house that developed a nuclear programme in the aftermath of the New Year's Revolution, and that wasn't even considering the sizable arsenals that some metahuman houses inherited from the pre-Revolution states that they replaced.

Bah. Probably just more metahuman pride just not wanting to lead a new campaign with normal-human armaments.

Rikissa's stance, he knew, was that she didn't care how the war was conducted as long as it didn't drain the Rosengards' treasury too much and as long as Colin got a steady supply of captives to play around with. If the metahuman houses agreed on pointless and ineffective conventional bombing raids, well, the Nordic Commonwealth would be happy to supply the bombers. Raynor... disagreed. Rikissa was being shortsighted, he thought, in not taking an interest in this war. Ideas were more dangerous than weapons, and there was no source of ideas as persuasive as the people who continued to fight for them. In order to assure the security of the dynastic system on which the Rosengards' power was based, Raynor thought, the resistance had to be crushed and crushed soon.

There was, perhaps, a time when a satisfactory resolution to the Australia problem could have been made, but that time passed as soon as the first bombs fell on Canberra. The Resistance was splintered and disorganised... and ironically that made them only more difficult to deal with. Raynor was born after the New Years' Revolution, but Rikissa drilled him again and again on how, exactly, the Rosengards became and remained the unchallenged rulers of Northern Europe. The Rosengards defeated the existing governments of the region, obtained their surrender, and used their authority and their institutions of state to pacify the region. Just like countless other conquerors have done to countless other countries in the past.

Australia, however, no longer had any centralised authority whose surrender would be accepted by the entire resistance and no functional Civil Service that the dynasties could co-opt to impose their rule on the continent. Implementing a variant of the Commonwealth's Cooperation Agreement in Australia was completely out of the question, too, what with how much bitterness and hatred on both sides was sown in this continent over the many years of war. Thus, the war would not be over, could not be over, until the dynastic coalition chased down and neutralised every platoon and company across every scrap of jungle and desert on the entire continent. And, well. Raynor's appearance, unlike those of his two siblings, was that of the quintessential Scandinavian seemingly pulled straight out of one of the Reich's propaganda posters, but half the blood used to create his parents came from Scotland. In Raynor's veins ran the highlander tradition and it knew very well how much irritation even a poorly-armed populace can cause invading forces if they cease respecting the boundary between civil and military affairs.

There was a reason why the Commonwealth insisted on sending just enough forces to maintain appearances, when with a stronger commitment the Rosengards might be able to secure themselves a lofty Australian title once the war was over and it was time to hand out the spoils; Rikissa was unsure, and come right down to it so was Raynor, that there would be anything in Australia worth having by the time the war was over.

At least Colin was having fun, Raynor mused.

[Britanania]

Royal Exhibition Building, Ruins of Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, 25 April 2020

Viktoria didn't bother offering a rebuttal to the Chinese warlord. Guan-Yin's methods, though brutal, were likely effective in the short term, but Viktoria wasn't here to judge methods or to decide. She was the Presiding Officer and was not here to offer counsel but to receive it. For her, this was about enacting a unified plan to deal with the Australian Ulcer, and as more of her fellow metahumans entered, she took note and offered any answers before the Congress began.

Viktoria grappled a gavel and pounded the desk and stood.

"We, Viktoria von Eisenfaust, empress of South America, Queen of Argentina, Chancellor of the Reich, Führer of the National Socialist Workers Party, Reichsleiter of Argentina, and Reichsführer-SS open this emergency session of the Dynastic Congress. Some opening remarks: as a reminder, only one subject may be before a group at one time, only one person may speak at any given time, all members of the Congress have equal rights; each speaker must be recognised by the presiding officer prior to speaking. Each speaker should make clear his or her intent by stating, "I wish to speak for/against the motion" prior to stating arguments. Each item presented for consideration is entitled to a full and free debate. Each person speaks once until everyone else has had an opportunity to speak."

The blonde metahuman spoke in English, as best she could, scanning the room before continuing.

"Our objectives today are to select an overall commander for the campaign, to select his second in command, and to form a strategy for the eradication of the resistance and the occupation of Australia."

And with that, Viktoria sat down, allowing for the first motion on the docket to begin once it was second: selecting an overall commander.

[Naval Monte]

---

After the ceremonial display of beginning the general congress Alex walked over to her seat for the meeting and sat down.

Alex looked around in the room before she decided to speak.

"Before I can speak I wish to make these be known." Alex would look down at her bag and reach down to search through her supplies. Muttering to herself she would take out a folder and a disk case.

"These right here contain the new intel my agents in the continent manage to get on the enemy. If we are gonna form a strategy on how best to deal with the rebels than I suggest we incorporate what my agents found so we can bring a swift end to the war while making sure we take less causalities in the process."

Alex would place the folder and disk on the table.

"As for my plan this shock and awe approach is a grand spectacle but also a mess. Instead of wasting our resources on scarring the enemy and destroying the natural resources we will use once we conquer the islands I suggest we coordinate all of our forces and strike at key logistical points to cripple the enemy and encircle any rebels our armies would find in the strikes. We should also use drones and surveillance aircraft to monitor any possible activity of the rebels and if possible either contain them in any hideouts in difficult terrain to starve them out or to have a small squad trained in special operations infiltrate their hiding hole and take them out."

Alex looked around until her eyes landed on one metahuman.

"As for commanders I believe Sergei is the most optimal choice for this invasion."

She looked over at another metahuman.

"As for my second choice... I pick Viktoria."

Alex tried desperately to not cringe at saying those words out loud. But if she wants this whole war to have some worth she needs the right people will be willingly to listen to her and not supremacists and lunatics who would drag out this war for as long as possible to make the humans suffer. They may see that as acceptable but Alex can't allow that to come to pass both for moral and practical considerations.

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Faced with the prospect of the experienced Sergei being given a foothold in Australia, that could very well end up being converted into his dominance over the region, Guan-Yin, upon seeing The Morrígan, formulated a secondary plan. Since it was highly unlikely that she'd be able to secure the domination of Australia for her self, which would be ideal, the next best thing would be to ensure that nobody was given the opportunity to establish a meaningful foothold.


"The topic being disgusted is not of strategy, but personnel. As such, I support The Morrigan to lead the occupation, with Prince Tolui as her second in command, as I believe they'd do the least to disruption the balance of power that existed before this invasion." Guan-Yin Spoke.

[Northern Socialist Council Republics]

Melbourne, State of Victoria, Australia,
25th April 2020 C.E.

Personnel was something that was given great consideration by Rikissa and Raynor both. The way they saw it, it was unlikely that a clan with as small an involvement in the Australian war as the Rosengards be given overall command of the operation. Since the Rosengards could not pursue the position for themselves, that made their political weight a bargaining chip. Raynor could, if a suitable offer came along, put their clan's support behind a candidate in exchange for a favour for the Rosengards and their Commonwealth. Alternately, he could pull strings to get a disliked rival on the top chair, then float up any blame and responsibility for the daily failures and disasters that the Australian operation was guaranteed to create, undermining their legitimacy.

While Rikissa bent the Commonwealth towards a more aloof and isolationist position, it still had many conflicts with its neighbours. There were, of course, the obvious territorial conflicts against their western neighbours, but also the disputes over navigational rights in the Sound and the Danish Straits, competition over resource prospecting in the High Arctic, the constant struggle for greater autonomy against the overbearing tyrants of Sector 10, the list went on and on. If someone was willing to pledge their support to the Commonwealth over those matters... well, then perhaps Raynor might favour them to lead the expedition into Australia.

That was the way politics was played, after all... his education may have been spotty, but Rikissa made sure that he'd at least know enough to tread water in a diplomatic conference.

Raynor kept his silence, waiting for someone to pass a note and make a bid for his support.

[Miekzhemy]

Prince Khereid Dorjigiin Tolui-Noyan

---

Royal Exhibition Building - Melbourne, Australia

The towering Mongol allowed the rest of the delegates to speak their piece. After all, his arrival was primarily out of courtesy. A silent, abstaining delegate was certainly a better image than not attending at all. As the lot of them discussed, Tolui let his mind wander, pondering their options. It was a delicate situation - one that could have tremendous repercussions if things went wrong. Victory was obviously a near certainty, as any attempt by the Resistance to meet them in open battle would be suicide. The best they could hope for was a retreat, to return to the shadows and gnaw at their heels. But extermination could prove catastrophic for stability. Even with the immense power of Her Majesty at their side - should they even make the maddening decision to call upon her - such devastation would be horrendous in the long run, easily making the continent a hell on Earth for who knows how many years?. He opted to resist mentioning such a strategy outright.

As his mind drifted to the matter of occupation, however, he found himself surprised by the Han empress' sudden suggestion for himself to take a commanding role of the attacking force.

"Hmhm," the Prince lightly chuckled, offering a slight dismissive wave of his gloved hand. "You flatter me, your Grace. I am but a warrior of words - a humble ambassador, standing in Her Imperial Majesty's stead to offer whatever support is necessary."

With some semblance of focus on him now, he took the opportunity to voice his own concerns and suggestions. It was little different than the many conventions back home, trying so desperately to steer his sister's Regency Council in a direction that was best for the Empire. Hopefully, if he wielded his words well, some of this word warrior's insight may fall on keen ears...

"This operation should be executed in the interest of the future to come," he explained. "A firm hand is needed to quell this rebellion, that is for certain. But such a drastic, bloodthirsty approach will only become a hindrance in the long run. Our priority must be not only in total destruction of the Resistance, but also on the propaganda front."

He deigned to elaborate. "Permit me to state the obvious: In an open conflict such as this, the Resistance's defeat is assured. To sally out into the open is all but suicide. It is why their forces stick to the shadows, striking underhandedly where our own least expect it. If we are to ensure their complete excision, we must likewise attempt to win over the peoples' support and work towards mending the stability of the region. Otherwise, outright extermination may very well galvanize the enemy, and inspire more to rise up in rebellion, thus plunging this region into even more chaos."

"That being said, I suggest that the Red Tsar take the reigns on this military action," Tolui added, momentarily gesturing to Sergei. The Mongol then allowed himself a pause, clearing his throat.

"On the subject of occupation, my aforementioned points still stand," he went on. "However, allow me to make a non-biased suggestion..."

"Tensions are bound to run high. Should another Great Lord be elected to rule the continent, or the Australian sector be integrated into another's sphere of influence, the sudden shift in the balance of power could lead to further conflict, and potentially destabilize the region even further."

Tolui folded his gloved hands atop their meeting table, leaning forward ever so slightly. He immediately regretted that choice of movement, feeling the already tight-fitting jacket chafe even harder.

"I suggest that, when the dust settles, the region of Australia be placed under a joint occupation of all its participating pacifiers. The finer details, such as monetary investment, use of resources, and zones of occupation can be further discussed once all is said and done. And in time, once stability is restored, we may convene once more to discuss Australia's future."

Deep down, it seemed to him like a sensible solution - a compromise that could very well please all parties involved without making their task needlessly more difficult. The Prince's gaze scanned the room for a moment, gauging their immediate reactions...

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Melbourne, State of Victoria, Australia,
25th April 2020 C.E.

Personnel was something that was given great consideration by Rikissa and Raynor both. The way they saw it, it was unlikely that a clan with as small an involvement in the Australian war as the Rosengards be given overall command of the operation. Since the Rosengards could not pursue the position for themselves, that made their political weight a bargaining chip. Raynor could, if a suitable offer came along, put their clan's support behind a candidate in exchange for a favour for the Rosengards and their Commonwealth. Alternately, he could pull strings to get a disliked rival on the top chair, then float up any blame and responsibility for the daily failures and disasters that the Australian operation was guaranteed to create, undermining their legitimacy.

While Rikissa bent the Commonwealth towards a more aloof and isolationist position, it still had many conflicts with its neighbours. There were, of course, the obvious territorial conflicts against their western neighbours, but also the disputes over navigational rights in the Sound and the Danish Straits, competition over resource prospecting in the High Arctic, the constant struggle for greater autonomy against the overbearing tyrants of Sector 10, the list went on and on. If someone was willing to pledge their support to the Commonwealth over those matters... well, then perhaps Raynor might favour them to lead the expedition into Australia.

That was the way politics was played, after all... his education may have been spotty, but Rikissa made sure that he'd at least know enough to tread water in a diplomatic conference.

Raynor kept his silence, waiting for someone to pass a note and make a bid for his support.

It didn't take much for Guan-yin to recognize what it probably meant that the energetic Raynor had yet to make a vote. Thinking quickly, she wrote up a note, which she had one of her imperial servants carry to him.

Do you really want the man with Eurasia at his finger tips to start getting a grip on another sub continent? Support Morrigan and let's make her the alternative to Sergei. I'd appreciate you back my support for Prince Toulai as well, though I imagine that might be a bit outside your concerns. However it'd make you a friend to the south han and a key trading partner for the resources that we're rather uniquely gifted with within our borders, to say the least.

[Naval Monte]

---

Alex once more chose to not show her reaction to Morrigan being voted twice now. Her exterior showed a neutral expression that would make some think she was bored with the current topic despite the fact she was the first to speak up once the meeting started. However internally the matter was different.

"Bloody idiots! They are ether doing some god forsaken political maneuver or the only thing they care about is stroking their supremacist ego. I can't allow that crazy witch to take command because she would not only destroy the entire continent and turn it into a fucking nature reserve she would make us throw our soldiers into a meat grinder. These fools don't know the depths of that witch's insanity."

Alex thoughts would turn to Tolui once he presented his plan for having a joint occupation of Australia instead of giving the title of Great Lord to a new power or to an existing one.

"Joint occupation? We would have to be careful whose occupation zone goes where and iron out the rules but this approach might just work. It's the type of compromises that doesn't satisfied anyone ego but it also doesn't cause anyone to fear of a power move being made by a rival. It's the most sensible and efficient option we have at the moment.

The witch thought about the proposal more and her head began to nod.

"I believe the Prince may be on to something. The island continent would be too large to make one lord to use all of their resources to govern their territory while occupying this one. I believe a joint occupation will allow us to conquer Australia and pool all of our collective resources and fire power in keeping the continent. The matter of course would be how to divide up the zones of occupation for each army on the island."

Of course what she didn't say but she was hoping certain members of the meeting would understand is that by having everyone present own a piece of the continent than no one metahuman will own all of Australia. She will not allow politics or genocidal ambitions ruin this whole operation.

[The Anarcho-Syndicalist Commune]

Sergei Zhakarov, Melbourne

The Red Tsar sat at the table in the strict upright of a lifelong soldier. The face of the man revealed no emotion, besides a cold disdain for the rest of the room that anyone familiar with the russian metahuman would know that he held for the assembled "Great Lords". These silly councils they held in order to keep themselves from ripping each others throats out at the first chance held little interest to Sergei, save for finding out what new depths of depravity war would reach this year.

He had yet to participate in the invasion of Australia, and he did not intend to start, so when nominations for command of the invasion began to roll in for him, Sergei flashed quick icey glances at his nominators, sighed and stood up, his cape flowing off his shoulders as he did so. Clearing his throat, the Russian said in his standard deep monotone in accented but understandable english "Before anyone else wastes their vote, I refuse these nominations. I will have no part in this sordid affair, save making sure that the rules of war are followed and that the people of this continent do not suffer more than they have to. Now, if I must pick one of you to command this operation, I nominate Lady Ashwood, with the mongol prince as her second in command. That is all I have to say on these matters for now."

[Nagakawa]

Melbourne, State of Victoria, Australia,
25th April 2020 C.E.

With the meeting now open, both the delegates of the Lei Family and the Hikawa Clan assumed their seats, their entourages behind them, and eyed the others who had gathered in the hall.

Viktoria, who was presiding over this iteration of the Metahuman council, wasted no time with pleasantries of any sort, going straight to a vote on the commander and second-in-command for the occupation effort of Australia. Already, several votes had been cast in favour of the Morrigan, one in favour of Sergei- one, too, in favour of a joint occupation.

Discreetly, the Hikawa Clan's delegate Kunikazu Ashihara beckoned to one of his aides, requesting a pen and a few pieces of paper, on which he scribbled three notes to pass to the others in the room.

One note went to Hu Tzi-peng, the delegate representing the Lei Family. It consisted of a single sentence.

The directive I received from Mr Hikawa is to support a joint occupation.

And a second, slightly longer note went to Tolui.

The Hikawa Clan of Japan seeks to maintain neutrality, and will thus provide full support for the joint occupation on the condition that all occupiers be granted the right to dictate their own boundaries in equal fashion.

On the other end of the hall, the Lei Family's delegate, Hu Tzi-peng, did not write any notes to anyone. He had received clear instructions from the reclusive Lei Tjin-fei on how exactly he was to vote- a vote that would neither destabilise the legitimacy of the Lei Family, nor draw too much attention to it.

"The Chinese delegation", said Hu, reading from a paper and intentionally making a bold claim through his reference to the 'Chinese' delegation, "abstains from the vote on the commander of the occupation."

With that, Hu resumed his seat. From across the room, the members of the Japanese delegation could be seen scribbling notes, while Ashihara himself crossed his legs and surveyed the others in the hall, as if waiting for the best possible moment to claim the room and speak.

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Melbourne, State of Victoria, Australia,
25th April 2020 C.E.

With the meeting now open, both the delegates of the Lei Family and the Hikawa Clan assumed their seats, their entourages behind them, and eyed the others who had gathered in the hall.

Viktoria, who was presiding over this iteration of the Metahuman council, wasted no time with pleasantries of any sort, going straight to a vote on the commander and second-in-command for the occupation effort of Australia. Already, several votes had been cast in favour of the Morrigan, one in favour of Sergei- one, too, in favour of a joint occupation.

Discreetly, the Hikawa Clan's delegate Kunikazu Ashihara beckoned to one of his aides, requesting a pen and a few pieces of paper, on which he scribbled three notes to pass to the others in the room.

One note went to Hu Tzi-peng, the delegate representing the Lei Family. It consisted of a single sentence.

The directive I received from Mr Hikawa is to support a joint occupation.

And a second, slightly longer note went to Tolui.

The Hikawa Clan of Japan seeks to maintain neutrality, and will thus provide full support for the joint occupation on the condition that all occupiers be granted the right to dictate their own boundaries in equal fashion.

On the other end of the hall, the Lei Family's delegate, Hu Tzi-peng, did not write any notes to anyone. He had received clear instructions from the reclusive Lei Tjin-fei on how exactly he was to vote- a vote that would neither destabilise the legitimacy of the Lei Family, nor draw too much attention to it.

"The Chinese delegation", said Hu, reading from a paper and intentionally making a bold claim through his reference to the 'Chinese' delegation, "abstains from the vote on the commander of the occupation."

With that, Hu resumed his seat. From across the room, the members of the Japanese delegation could be seen scribbling notes, while Ashihara himself crossed his legs and surveyed the others in the hall, as if waiting for the best possible moment to claim the room and speak.

"I object to Lei Family delegate's ridiculous statement as representing a 'Chinese delegation' and call on the chair require them to withdraw their their statement as it is needlessly provocative in a meeting of equals discussing the serious matter of what to do about the resistance in Australia." Said Guan-Yin, address Viktoria unwilling to let an unprovoked insult go.