On the Knifes Edge (IC)

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

On The Knifes Edge
"War closing in, there's only 10 seconds left till midnight..."

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Background Information: 1 minute till Midnight
The Tauros Imperium, is a militaristic nation which had taken control of larges parts of the British Isles over the course of the last thirty years. Becoming a threat to stability in the region using its own strain of Nationalistic communism. With its Militaristic ideology allies in the region would be far and few, with its new leader declaring a strong stance against the Capitalist which oppressed the European Mainland. They saw few options to assure the independence of The Tauros Imperium and there mission to liberate the Mainland.

The first part of there plan was to establish sea dominance over the Artic Ocean and North Atlantic, producing over 40 modern ships alongside a set of 6 nuclear submarines. This modern navy acted as its new spearhead and method at projecting influence over the region. But this rabid expansion and harassment of ships in the Artic Oceans put it against the Way Sun cooperation with its radically different ideologies only adding to the distrust between each nation. The Tauros Imperium recently revealed its true weapon which would insure the Imperium's power.

Completing a nuclear test with a yield of 5 Megatons. Having developed an arsenal of Nuclear weapons, this test nicknamed the "Burning Phoenix" acted as The Tauros Imperium opportunity to shows its new abilities. Alongside these nuclear weapons they have developed a set of MRBMs and ICBMs designed to hit anywhere in Europe within 7 minutes.

With this new found power they have began campaigns indoctrinating the population about the Way Sun Cooperation. Seeing the nation as its ideological opponent as well as a resource rich target for expansion. With the government of The Tauros Imperium creating an over arching goal to take control over the Way Sun Cooperation. Willing to use force to take control of the Cooperation even if it meant they would use of there Nuclear Arsenal. Readying both there Navy and there Nuclear forces for conflict within the next year. Time is closing in, with 1 minute to midnight.

The Current Situation:

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Spark in a Coal Mine: 50 Seconds till Midnight

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The Way Sun Cooperation watching as the Tarous Imperium continued expanding in the region harassing shipping alongside annexing and issuing claims over resources wealthy areas and regions. It was becoming ever clearer as Way Sun Cooperation ships where harassed and as increasingly hostile statements where made by the Tauros Imperium that some kind of conflict would be inevitable. After careful analysis by the CID (Central intelligence Directorate) its was made clear that Tauros Imperium would attack the Way Sun Cooperation within the next three months.

The Nuclear Weapons Command saw no choice but to change the Way Sun Cooperations stance on Nuclear Weapons, from a purely Retaliatory use to one of a First Strike. With the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction being hoped to act as a shield for the Cooperation form the Tauros Imperium's hegemony.

Rising to meet expectations: 30 Seconds till Midnight

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On the evening of October 12th, the Tarous Imperium's 1st and 3rd Carrier strike groups mobilised, moving towards the Way Sun Cooperation's EEZ (Exclusive Economic Zone) being projected to arrive within the next two weeks. The goal of this action was to try enforce the Imperium's will, and as an attempt to scare the people of the Way Sun Cooperation with the prospect of another conflict. The cooperate saw little choice but to send forces to intercept the carriers enroute to the Way Sun Cooperation. With the Nordic Defence Fleet and the Berant Sea Fleet moving towards the Imperium's Flotilla.

The Cooperate Navy gave a statement simply saying they would meet the Tarous Imperium's forces with an equal if not greater force if they continue with there Militaristic and expansionist ways.

Time till contact: 20 Seconds till Midnight

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Both the fleets of the Way Sun Cooperation and the Tarous Imperium on the verge of contact the Final countdown has truly begun, if both fleets meet and fire upon each other there will be no choice but war which could end in the use of a Nuclear weapons which could escalate the conflict extremely quickly from a border war to a war of annihilation. There are only 32 Hours until the fleets meet and preparations are being made for the worse outcome..

Silent posturing: 10 Seconds till Midnight

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Below the oceans surrounding both the Way Sun Cooperation and the Tarous Imperium a silent armada prepared form the final contingency. With the Imperium's 6 Nuclear Submarines spread across the ocean prepared to rain down a barrage of nuclear Hellfire upon the people of the Cooperation. The Way Sun Cooperation nuclear tirade has been nearly completely mobilized preparing for what could be there final mission.. If this war of annihilation occurs the Cooperation will not go silently.

The last chance, before midnight:

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With just 24 hours until the fleets would meet each other a last-ditch attempt at diplomacy being held. A mixture of foreign diplomats alongside the diplomats from the Way Sun Cooperation and the Taurous Imperium. Rushed to Zurich, to join in the attempt at deescalating the situation before either side could fight in earnest, and before any side could escalate the conflict. With only 10 seconds left on the Doomsday clock, a nuclear exchange could pull in many other sides.

The plush conference room would act as these diplomats home for the next 24 hours, as they attempted to prevent the crisis devolving into a war. Diplomats where give assigned seat as the Delegation from the Way Sun Cooperation sat down, awaiting the rest of the diplomats with an ominous red phone sitting in front of them...

OOC Section:

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Here is the Out of Character Area, https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=557338

Rules:

• No declaring war
• The OP and Co-op's word is law (Tauros Imperium and Way Sun Cooperation)
• No godmoding

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

The Zurich Conference, 24 Hours until contact, 10 seconds to midnight

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The long neutral nation of Switzerland acted as the perfect base for negotiations between these two powers as they moved ever closer to war, The city of Zurich had been chosen quickly with the local offices of the Devlon holding Corporation being commerdeard leaving its lavish interior void of people except for members of the Swiss police and delegates. Each nations delegation where given private rooms so they could communicate with there homeland and have discussion with eachother in private. The main conference room had a large table set into its centre, with screens displaying a simple OS map. Each showed the paths of each of the fleets showing there time till intercept... this left them with twenty four hours before contact and the clock ticking ever closer to midnight.

Ambassador Nathen Collins stood in his newly constructed office pondering the situation his fellow diplomats would arrive soon alongside there entourages of military, tactical and economic advisors who wished to guide the conference in there favour. He was joined by several of his own advisors all waiting with baited breaths as President Robert Dawson appeared on the screen seemingly slightly worn down, the background being that of a military command centre. In a gruff voice the president began to speak "Gentlemen, we stand on the edge, the edge of a war that could destroy our homeland. A conflict which could rip apart our people and devastate our lands. Your duty is to remain clear..." he pauses as a man hand him a dossier. "Attempt descalation, if anything happens alert me. Gentlemen I now must leave to meet with the High Command" he walked off the screen before it cut out.

Ambassador Nathen Collins than began speaking almost as soon as the president had stopped. "Okay, you heard the president. I need you to work on several descalation plans before the imperium's repersentives arrive. Commander Hollands, I need you to get me an updated plan if this all goes to hell" As soon as he was done speaking thy moved to there stations contacting a support team within the Way Sun Cooperation coming up with some chance to stop this from escalating. He sat himself down at a desk, awaiting the arrival of the other delegates and the start of the most important talks he would likely lead in his life. With the fate of the Cooperation and Imperium in his hands...

The dissent into darkness, 36 Hours until contact, 10 seconds to midnight

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Deep under the North Atlantic sea Sub-N02 "Harbinger" was on patrol. Nicknamed for its payload of twenty-two nuclear missiles, often seen as the single for the end of the world. It had been on patrol alongside its brethren for the last month ever since a state of heightened alert was announced. Fulfilling its duty to act as a deterrent and a final resort for the Way Sun Cooperation. A siren ran out as men rushed around the cramped hallways. A emergency communique had been received and as the Commander read it he felt dread. High Command Order: "All submarine's on patrol to switch to running dark, prepare for possible launch. This is not a drill. No communication until next command order. NWCOM-A declared" in other word he was ordered to prepare for the end of the world... now they would remain on silent patrol, next the Captain, Commander and Cooperate officer would have meet and discuss there next move.

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

Zurich
Illarion Romanskiev sat in the backseat of his black GMZ U39M as it glided through the streets of Zurich, the soft hum of the electric motor barely audible over the growing tension in his mind. The executive car, iconic with its sleek design and robust Stratusian engineering, was a subtle yet powerful reminder of the weight he carried into these negotiations. The fate of nations and, possibly, the world, rested on the next 24 hours.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. It was the call he had been expecting—the final briefing from his superiors in Beisinghausen, in their bunkers in Stratusia.

The face of Colonel Dmitry Novikov filled the screen, the familiar sight of military brass adorned in crisp uniforms occupying the background.

"Romanskiev," Novikov's voice was steady,

"You're walking into a lion’s den. We're all aware of what’s at stake here. The Tauros Imperium's ambition and the Way Sun Cooperation's retaliation strategy have everyone on edge. But don’t forget, we're not neutral spectators. Stratusia’s 23 'Solntsepyok' warheads are positioned to be the ultimate deterrent, carried by the UR-700 ICBMs."

The colonel’s words were cold, but Romanskiev understood the message clearly: Stratusia was no bystander in this conflict. Should the talks collapse, their nuclear arsenal would be the platinum bargaining chip in the worst-case scenario—a stark reminder of the destruction that loomed over everyone.

"Bring that up if things get... desperate," Novikov continued.

"We want de-escalation, but if the Imperium thinks they can ignore Stratusia in their calculations, they need to know we have teeth, and plenty of them."

Romanskiev nodded.

"Understood, Herr Oberst. I'll remind them we're not powerless if push comes to shove, that we carry the voice of the silent"

The colonel’s face softened slightly, but the tension remained.

"And one more thing... make sure you enjoy that bottle of Plum Schnapps. Aged sixty years, I hear? It may well be the last fine drink you all get to savor."

Romanskiev allowed a thin smile to creep across his face. The bottle of Schnapps, a treasured vintage from the Orelgrad region, was nestled in his suitcase, wrapped in brown kraft paper. It had crossed his mind more than once that this meeting in Zurich might be his final toast.

The call ended with a brief salute, and Romanskiev was left with his thoughts as the car slowly pulled up to the entrance of the converted conference center.

He exhaled deeply, stepping out into the crisp Swiss air.

The once-bustling headquarters of the Devlon Holding Corporation was now eerily silent, its lavish halls filled only with the solemn buzz of diplomats, military advisors, and tactical teams. Swiss police stood watch at every corner, their neutrality a fragile safeguard against the chaos inching ever closer.

Romanskiev, dressed in his finely tailored Stratusian suit, made his way into the main building. He was early, deliberately so. He preferred to arrive before the others, a habit he had formed over the years to observe the atmosphere and mentally prepare himself for the task ahead.

Behind his stoic façade, something began to break.

As he stepped into the plush conference room, he was greeted by the sight of a massive table, surrounded by screens displaying real-time fleet movements across the North Atlantic and Arctic. The paths of the Way Sun Cooperation's fleets and the Tauros Imperium's strike groups were converging at an alarming pace. The stark reality of the impending clash painted itself across the screens, the countdown ticking closer to zero.

Romanskiev set his briefcase down and quietly unpacked the bottle of Schnapps, placing it carefully on the table. It gleamed under the soft lighting, an almost poetic symbol of fleeting peace, aged through decades of strife, now waiting for a moment that might never come. He ran his hand over the label, feeling the weight of history and fate in every drop inside.

One by one, the struts holding up his façade began to snap, one by one.

He sat down at the table, which was somewhat empty for now, and stared at the ominous red phone in front of him. It was the direct line to his superiors, to be used if the talks spiraled beyond control. The last line of communication before the world descended into nuclear chaos.

Just like that his façade came falling down.

With a sigh, Romanskiev slumped back in his chair, glancing at the clock. Time was running out, for everyone. He put his face into his hands, and sighed again, this time dejectedly and slow, with a twinge melancholiness too.

"Ten seconds to midnight... Fuuuuuck. Here's hoping hope we can turn back the clock." he muttered to himself

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

Snip

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Ambassador Nathen Collins watched from his makeshift office window as the Stratusian delegation arrive. As he watched them enter the building he made his way down stairs to the main conference room. As he walked in he could hear the faint muttering from the man sitting alone in the room, positioned in front of his own daunting red telephone. "Evening" Ambassador Collins said this as he sat himself down in his chair at the head of the table. "I am Ambassador Collins leader of the Way Sun Cooperation delegation, who would you be?" He could see the flag attached to his lapel and had memorised the seating plan when he had ran out of other things to do. It was strange even on the edge of nuclear war he could find a moment of boredom. The screens still showed the same image and overlay, projecting a count down which created an air of tension.

"I see we are the only one here, than I might be as bold to ask your nations motives... " he said this as he poured himself a glass of water. "Of course you might lie but it would be any to know if my nation has any allies against this... threat" As he waited for a response he glanced at teh clock seeing it continue to tick down, the clock would only continue to chip away at there limited time, the other delegations would be here soon he hoped.

[Nynphemburg]

The Nynphemburguese delegate (his excellency Field-Marshall and High Minister of the Empire of Nynphemburg) Friedrich Bergendahm-Weiß makes his way in the corridors of the building in Zurich, followed by his assistant Colonel Emile Naëve.

“Herr General?” asked Naëve walking quickly to keep the nervous pace of Weiß “Which line would you suggest us to follow?”
“We mustn’t become the center of any discussion or debate, we must stay still until our moment arrives.”
“And then?”
“Then we will act accordingly to the circumstances. Our main goal is to maintain our economic benefits in the region, we don’t want any war to start… but we will use force if necessary, and if a war occurs, there will be pieces to pick up and we must be there when this will happen.”

Naëve remained silent, worried about the possibility of a war, but confident in Weiß’s diplomatic capabilities.

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The doors of the Assembly room open as Field-Marshall Bergendahm Weiß and Colonel Naëve enter the room.

Their elegant and stern black uniforms full of medals and ribbon, adorned by a golden cross under the neck create an ominous aura around them. Bergendahm-Weiß took off his gloves and put them in a pocket of his long black coat and extended an arm towards ambassador Collins.

“You should be Nathen Collins, c’est un plaisir de vous rencontrer! I am Filed-Marshall Friedrich Bergendahm-Weiß, High Minister of the Empire and delegate in this temporary assembly for Nynphemburg. He is Colonel Emile Naëve and will be my assistant during this conference if this doesn’t represent any problem to you.”

This said the two men walked towards the seat where there was written ‘Nynphemburg’ and waited the start of the conference.

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

"Of course you might lie but it would be any to know if my nation has any allies against this... threat" As he waited for a response he glanced at the clock seeing it continue to tick down, the clock would only continue to chip away at there limited time, the other delegations would be here soon he hoped.

"Well... what you say, is... complex. Convoluted, more precisely."

Illarion leaned back in his chair slightly, his fingers tracing the edge of the smooth wood of the table before clasping them together. He regarded Collins for a moment, as though weighing his words carefully, thinking, judging, and re-assembling. Stratusia had always been a voice for those left unheard, a protector of nations caught in the dangerous currents of imperial ambitions. And now, with the Tauros Imperium bearing down on the WSC, the stakes were higher than ever.

"We are here to carry the voice of those who have none," Illarion began, his tone calm, almost diplomatic in its precision.

"Stratusia stands as a shield for those who face threats they cannot repel alone. We have watched closely as events have unfolded, praying for the push to not come to a shove, and though the hour grows late, our commitment to stability—and to our allies—remains unwavering."


He allowed the words to sink in, knowing Collins understood the deep ties between their two nations. Stratusia and the Way Sun Cooperation had fought side by side, bound by treaties and... ironically, cooperating. That legacy was hard to ignore, even in moments of doubt.

"Should the worst come to pass, Stratusia is prepared to act, rest assured... not quite, but there is... a rather large diplomatic weight behind twenty-something gigatons of nuclear hellfire wired to an automated fail-deadly, no?"

Illarion continued, his voice firm but measured, as if laying a subtle foundation for what could follow.

"Our nations have stood together before, and we stand ready to do so again. We hope for diplomacy, for peace and love, of course... but we are not blind to the realities we may face."

As he spoke, Illarion pushed back a fleeting thought—a flash of humor buried beneath the surface, a memory from his recent briefing with Novikov. 'Find an excuse to curbstomp some imperialist with 152mm shells if push comes to shove,' Novikov had said, his tone darkly playful, though the threat behind it was anything but. Illarion almost mused at the image but quickly buried it. Now was not the time for that particular sentiment.

He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"'It would be better, however, for all of us to ensure it does not come to that."

The screens continued to display the advancing fleets, the countdown ticking steadily toward the moment of decision. For now, diplomacy had the floor, but the stakes had been made clear. Stratusia would not sit idly by if the situation escalated further.

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

Snip

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Ambassador Collins responded to the new arrivals, there ominous black uniforms and medals where slightly out of place when compared with his modern business attire. "It is good to meet you, Field Marshal. Your assistant is welcomed. I do assume you know the current situation or do you require a debriefing?" He gestured to the screens each still showed the same infographic as time continued to tick. "We will begin proper talks when... the Tauros Imperium delegation arrives" he spat the name as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.

Snip

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Ambassador Collin quickly turned back to the Stratusian Delegation, dismissing an aid and ordering him to garb food and to help the new arrivals. "So your nation is mostly neutral, that is good for both of us" he listened as Illarion continued. After a few second of contemplating he decided to continue speaking. "It is good to see that the past between our nations is respected but we would not wish to pull y into our demise if it comes to pass. My nation has several fail-deadly systems ready to glass the Imperium if all else fails" He emphasis the deadly pat of fail-deadly only emphasizing the true weight of the situation he gestured towards the aid who had returned with some water and party sausages for some reason, he presumed it must had been all they had in such short notice.

Ambassador Collins laughed, before adding to the joke, "Well we will get to enjoy the view with Party Sausages as the Imperialists are converted to dust" he then continued switching back to a more serious tone. "For the sake of everyone, we must continue to hope that the clock does not get any closer to a eternal midnight"

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

Ambassador Collin quickly turned back to the Stratusian Delegation, dismissing an aid and ordering him to garb food and to help the new arrivals. "So your nation is mostly neutral, that is good for both of us" he listened as Illarion continued. After a few second of contemplating he decided to continue speaking. "It is good to see that the past between our nations is respected but we would not wish to pull y into our demise if it comes to pass. My nation has several fail-deadly systems ready to glass the Imperium if all else fails" He emphasis the deadly pat of fail-deadly only emphasizing the true weight of the situation he gestured towards the aid who had returned with some water and party sausages for some reason, he presumed it must had been all they had in such short notice.

Ambassador Collins laughed, before adding to the joke, "Well we will get to enjoy the view with Party Sausages as the Imperialists are converted to dust" he then continued switching back to a more serious tone. "For the sake of everyone, we must continue to hope that the clock does not get any closer to a eternal midnight"

Zurich
Illarion leaned back slightly, his sharp gaze never leaving Collins as he let the WSC diplomat's words settle in the air. The tension was palpable, hanging like a sword between them both, but Illariom's demeanor remained composed. He'd heard the unspoken concern, the shared understanding of what was truly at stake.

"Neutrality..." he began, his voice steady but with a weight that mirrored the gravity of the moment,

"Is a luxury our nations often aspire to, though not always something we can afford. Stratusia's history with your people, Botschafter Collins, has never been taken lightly. We have stood together before, and it's true—we do not rush into wars that are not ours to fight. But neutrality does not mean inaction."

His eyes flicked toward the small countdown still ticking on one of the screens in the room, reminding them all that time was not an infinite resource. The quiet whirring of the air conditioning seemed louder for a moment, amplifying the silence that followed his words. Then, in the same matter-of-fact tone, he continued:

"As we speak, our Solntsepyok warheads are being loaded into the UR-700s—no posturing, simply preparation. You understand, of course. They are being fitted into silos as we speak. Targeted, not at the core, or civilians of the Imperium, but their silos, to deny a secondary strike. The Thermonuclear Incendiaries, 'Atmosphere annililatiors' as the... Amerikans like to call them—they are not a deterrent, per se, but a contingency, as you mentioned with your own fail-deadly systems. Should push come to shove, we will not be caught unprepared."

He paused for a moment, studying Collins' reaction, then added with a slight, almost imperceptible shrug,

"The YU-40B 'Molots' already on standby aboard our Ao Guang-class subs may prove sufficient, but we've made sure that our UR-700s are capable of making a statement should escalation be necessary. This is not meant as a threat to anyone in this room"

He glances at the two Nynphemburguese delegates, and gives them a small wink and reassuring smile, before continuing.

"—it is simply fact. Stratusia's hand has always been one of defense when drawn, and if this game of brinkmanship does reach its final hour, rest assured, we will be ready."

Illarion’s tone was not aggressive, nor did it carry the air of bluster. It was calm, precise, as if discussing the mechanics of a complex machine rather than the unleashing of world-ending weapons. It was the voice of a man who knew the weight of responsibility but carried it without hesitation.

He glanced down briefly at the plate of party sausages, letting a faint smile touch the corner of his mouth, finding a moment of levity despite the circumstances.

"And if all else fails, Herr Botschafter," he added lightly,

"At least we'll have the view—and, apparently, the party sausages."

Then, with a more serious tone, he turned back to the larger issue at hand.

"But let us hope, as you say, that we never see that clock strike midnight. For the sake of Stratusia, the WSC, and the world."

He then sighed dejectedly, rubbing his forehead.

"It's a dance, with knives, figuratively, and fire from the gods, in a literal sense."

---

Orelgrad, Stratusia
Mikhail Kryvalovich sat cross-legged on the dirt path just outside his family’s small, weather-worn home on the outskirts of Orelgrad, his wide eyes locked onto the towering silhouette in the distance. The air hummed with the low mechanical groaning of the massive crane lowering the UR-700 into its silo, and Misha could see the faint outlines of workers, tiny like ants, bustling around the base of the missile. The orange glow of the setting sun cast long shadows over the fields, making the missile look even more imposing against the backdrop of the vast, dusky sky.

He had snuck out quietly, creeping past the kitchen table where his mother had been serving dinner. She’d been talking to his father about something important—probably about the missile base that everyone in the village whispered about when they thought the children weren’t listening. Misha wasn’t interested in their hushed conversations. He wanted to see for himself.

From his perch, half a kilometer away, the scene before him looked like something out of one of his toy soldier stories. He imagined the UR-700 was a giant rocket ship, ready to blast off into space, carrying brave cosmonauts on some grand adventure. His eyes sparkled as he watched it slowly descend into the silo, the Solntsepyok warhead hidden within—a name he had overheard adults say in worried tones but didn’t fully understand.

For him, it was all just fascinating. The scale of it. The way the ground seemed to tremble as the crane moved. The quiet power of the moment.

"Misha!" His mother's sharp voice cut through his daydream, startling him. He jumped, turning to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed and an exasperated look on her face.

"What are you doing outside? Dinner’s getting cold, and you’re not supposed to be out here!"

Caught red-handed, Misha scrambled to his feet, dusting off his pants as he shuffled back toward the house.

"Sorry, Mama..." he mumbled, his eyes still darting toward the missile silo.

His mother stepped aside as he passed, her face softening just a little.

"You know you’re not supposed to be near there, Misha. It’s dangerous. Come inside now."

As he walked towards their house in the distance, he couldn’t help but steal one last glance over his shoulder. The UR-700 was almost out of sight, swallowed by the earth, disappearing like a secret too big for him to understand. Inside, the warmth of the kitchen greeted him, the smell of stew thick in the air. His father glanced at him from the table with a raised eyebrow but said nothing, leaving Misha to slide sheepishly into his seat. Music played softly on the radio.

His mother placed a bowl in front of him, and as he stirred the stew absentmindedly, he could still feel the weight of the missile in the distance, the presence of something enormous and powerful looming over their quiet village.

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SNF Baikal
Kapitänleutnant Stanislaus Mikhaylov sat in the dimly lit command center of the SNF Baikal, the soft hum of the submarine's systems the only constant sound as the vessel lay nestled on the ocean floor. The soft twang of Johnny Cash's "I Heard That Lonesome Whistle" still played on the intercom, a calm but haunting presence amid the heavy steel walls and glowing consoles. Mikhaylov leaned back in his chair, arms folded as he watched his crew go about their duties, each man focused but relaxed—seven years underwater tended to smooth out the nerves, even in a behemoth like this.

Suddenly, the familiar beep of the encrypted communication terminal drew his attention. Mikhaylov sat up straight, the flicker of the red light signaling an incoming priority message. The comms officer gave him a brief nod and thumbs up, and without a word, the captain strode over to the console.

"New orders, Kapitänleutnant," the officer said, his voice tight with the sudden seriousness of the moment. Mikhaylov's eyes narrowed as he scanned the decrypted message from Stratusian High Command. His heart, though disciplined and steady, skipped a beat.

Defense readiness is being bumped up. Be prepared to receive further orders at any time.

He processed the words calmly, though the weight of them settled over him like a cold, familiar blanket. His mind immediately shifted into a sharper focus, the idle moments of routine vanishing like smoke. They had been here before, on the cusp of something greater—whether it was war or merely the threat of it, the Baikal and its crew had always stood ready. But this... this felt different.

Mikhaylov inhaled deeply, then exhaled just as slowly. His eyes briefly flicked toward the massive covers on the deck, holding the sealed tubes of the Yu-40B "Molot" Hypersonic Glide Vehicles, the most destructive weapons in their arsenal. Armed and loaded, they sat silent like sleeping giants, waiting for a command that no one truly wanted to give but all were prepared for.

He stood still for a moment, letting the reality of the situation settle in. High Command didn’t send out messages like this lightly. The chessboard was shifting. The faint tension of the geopolitical landscape—the eternal midnight everyone had been fearing—was closer than ever.

Turning to his executive officer, a young but seasoned man who had served with him for the last four years, Mikhaylov’s voice was calm but carried authority. "Get the men ready. Quietly, but make sure everyone understands we could be moving at a moment's notice."

The officer nodded and moved swiftly to relay the orders.

Mikhaylov walked back to his seat, his eyes resting on the few windows in the command center that offered a view of the barren ocean floor, though there was nothing to see but darkness beyond the massive hull. It was a strange thought, sitting at the bottom of the ocean, on the edge of what might be a nuclear war. The irony of being so detached from the surface—yet being one of its most potent defenders—wasn’t lost on him.

He sighed softly, in both exhaustion and worry.

The music still played, the voice of Johnny Cash echoing softly throughout the steel corridors. Lonesome whistle... Mikhaylov allowed himself the smallest of smirks. There was no whistle here. Only the sound of silence, the hum of power, and the quiet dread that, at any moment, the world above might shift irrevocably, pulling them into a maelstrom of destruction.

His thoughts lingered on Stratusia itself, the mainland, its towering silos, and the UR-700s being prepared above the waves. He wondered if the missile crews up there felt the same thing he did—this eerie calm before the storm.

With a final glance at the clock, on one of the command consoles, Mikhaylov steeled himself. Whatever orders came next, they would be ready. His crew, his ship, the Baikal—they were all ready to move at a moment's notice.

"Just another day at sea... damn it..." he muttered under his breath, eyes fixed forward, waiting for the next signal.

[Tauros Imperium]

"I remember fear and I remember the potential of nuclear war." -Jack Scalia

The Arrival of the Kaiser

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Rían I, the current Kaiser of the Imperium would look over her map - disdainfully looking over Switzerland, hissing before crumbling up the paper. The Rearment of their Navy has shown to grown into a powerful foe - challenging the independence of their next target.

Task Force 19 - Traveling through the North Sea.

The hue of the skies as the plane made its arrival into Zurich. As she softly drank the tea she had been given only just a second ago - Rían would look out the window, tainted in revulsion seeing foreign diplomats cheerfully greeting eachother as they entered. "Ekelhaft, I only agreed to this to gain something.. not for some party."

As she made her way out of the airplane, taking her time - Rían would be shined by the many glaring lights taken by the reporters, throwing up her hand to hide herself beneath the dark. She had no guards, using herself as bait instead - if something were to happen... Walking inside the Hall - Rían
would travel through every corridor, watching her move, every sound, step, and squeak. Touching more foreign soil - serving only to make her sick. Swiftly making her entrance against the Great Doors that led to the assembly.
"Let this not be a mistake."

The Kaiser would open the doors - gazing her grey eyes upon each of them, taking her first step inside the room.

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Monologue (Short)

---

Theme Never using this type of music again, note.

She'd walk very.. very leisurely to the assumed diplomat, Collins - looking straight at him with a sort of an evil smirk lying on her face. The dead eyes that bestow on the man were ones of terrorization. Her fingers softly rubbing against her chin - slowly licking the top of her lips. Rían then offered her hand, letting the best of her get to herself.

"I assume.. you're the man from Way-Sun? Pleased to make your acquaintance, though I believe - we should get started, stop this blather and sit down."

The Kaiser would make her way to preside over the furthest chair from her stance. Rían would overlap her leg onto the other - carefully placing off her hat onto the table, looking around the assembly. Not giving herself the chance to even ask for a glass of water - readying herself to declare war at any second in this "peace" meeting that was declared.

"Well then? Speak your damn mind, Ausländerin."

OOC: Yes, this was made by me - not by AI, sorry it isn't as massive as you wanted it to be.

[Nynphemburg]

"The YU-40B 'Molots' already on standby aboard our Ao Guang-class subs may prove sufficient, but we've made sure that our UR-700s are capable of making a statement should escalation be necessary. This is not meant as a threat to anyone in this room"

He glances at the two Nynphemburguese delegates, and gives them a small wink and reassuring smile, before continuing.

“You shouldn’t worry about it” says FM Weiß looking at him calmly. “We don’t consider you a threat at all. But I suggest to stop with digs and worry about…” his words are interrupted by the entrance of Rìan I.

Weiß turns his head to meet her gaze. In this psychological fight neither of the two breaks the eye contact, intended to assert a quiet superiority on the other. Eventually Weiß greets her with composed and weighted words: “Greetings Excellency. Finally you have arrived, we were starting to get worried about your safety”. His voice is icy, yet someways comforting.

“I’m sure you understand the gravity of the situation, and the consequences that our action could led to. You were invited to find a peaceful solution, you are given the opportunity to continue existing as a nation and to keep your position as leader, don’t treat us like that and show the respect every member of this council deserves. If I were you, I wouldn’t underestimate anyone in this room.” this said Weiß sits again on his chair, looking at all the members of the assembly.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Fleurdelis - Black Palace, the ministry of war

Counter-Admiral Amedieu Du Cherv runs through the corridors of the north wing of the Black Palace, shouting: “Alta-Admiral!”
Alta-Admiral Lara Debeau is in the Strategic Room in an important meeting as she is interrupted by Du Cherv: “What happens? What’s this mess?” she asks annoyed. “It’s the WSC! Their fleet and the Tauros Imperiums are about to encounter!”. Immediately Alta-Admiral changes the map on the quadrant regarding the two fleets, all the generals and admirals in the room remain silent. “Your calculations said it would happen in two days!” says the AA nervously.
“I know Madame, but they were faster than I thought, we have to act quickly!”

“That’s concerning, do you have any new informations from Weiß?” she asks calmly.
“No Madame! But we have to do something.”
“You are right, for the moment let’s move the 15th fleet towards the ‘meeting point’, tel Weiß and wait new orders.”
“Yes Madame!”


La Darsena-Class destroyer, flagship of the Nynphemburguese 15th fleet, directed toward the ‘Meeting Point’.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Zurich, congress hall

Weiß’s encrypted phone receives a message from Nynphemburg, he writes something back quickly and remains still, waiting for the delegates to speak up.

Weiß’s phone:

“The fleets are about to encounter, we sent the 15th to the ‘Meeting Point’.
Any new info?”

Wieß answer:

“Kaiser has arrived, seems not keen on diplomacy, be prepared to anything.
Orders:

Prepare Thunderfall missiles for deployment, but NOT ARMED.
Prepare NFM-012 in silos (x30), NOT ARMED.
Change bombers bombs with Sarin-KC/ZD bombs, NOT ARMED but ready for take off.
Keep us updated every 15 minutes.

We are trying to evitate conflicts at all costs but we can’t tell how this will end.”

[Kreigsreich of Iron]

The Minister for War-no name, only the title-drove through the streets of Zurich in a military-grade Jeep, escorted by a convoy of troop transports. He considered the orders he had received from Almighty Supreme Leader-also no name, only the title-from his vast bunker-office-palatial complex at the center of Kreigsreich of Iron City.
“We want these people to go to war. Gets rid of a couple of rivals and we can pick up the pieces as part of the Greater Union.”
A Political Office aid showing levenbrech’s insignia accompanied the Minister for War on his journey through the concrete roads of Zurich as he prepared to instigate a nuclear war between the two parties.
“We’re here.”
The voice of the levenbrech came through above the sound of the engine. As the Minister for War stepped out of the Jeep, the troop transports disgorged their load of Hellfire Gunners, the echo of their metal boots echoing throughout the city like the sound of rolling thunder. Accompanied by a four-man escort of the Stormtroopers, the best and brightest troopers the Greater Union had to offer, he began to stride through the halls of the building where the negotiations were hosted. Arriving at the conference room, he noticed the arrival of the other diplomats and moved to salute them.
“Hello. I hope that these negotiations prove to be fruitful.”
The levenbrech from the Political Department murmurs something in his ear.
“The Nyphenburg 15th Fleet has begun to move to the meeting point. Almighty Supreme Leader has ordered the 12th Armada to echo the movement.”

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

The Zurich Conference, Responses, 24 Hours till contact

---

Snip

---

Ambassador Collins turned to the new arrival seeing the crest of the Tauros Imperium he was filled with hate, finally placing a fate to this enemy who threatens his home and his nation. Only being further despising the Ambassador as there pompous manner, and air of self importance alongside superiority only found in those part of the Aristocracy. "I am Ambassador Collins, chief repersentive of the Way Sun Cooperation" he had to hold his tounge following his diplomatic training as to avoid an outburst which could be extremely costly, not just a blown talk but the lives of millions.

"You must be the Kaiser.." a tone of distain slipped out only feeling hate of this women. "You will find some of us are civilised even as the threat closes ever closer due to the actions of your damned nation" having broken his training he took a breath before continuing. "We should begin now, after all the clock ticks closer to midnight and the end of both our nations"

Snip

---

Ambassador Collins after grabbing some water for himself, spoke more to the Stratusian delegate. "Neutrality is something many nations seek but is truly a hard prospect, viewed as weakness by some and thearchy by others." his voice was still in the same educated tone neither aggressive or soft simply factual. He continued to listen as the delegate continued and began to speak about there nations nuclear arsenal. "It is always best to have an... Insurance policy is the best way to put it. The Way Sun cooperation currently has an arsenal of SLBMs ready, and even a few Silo based assets". While speaking to the delegate he had received a notification on his phone.

He read the message, it was simple yet grave in its meaning. Possible Delegate plans to initiate a conflict, stay alert and prepared. He knew this would not bode well a delegate stirring trouble and even attempting to start up a war could not be good in any circumstance as he pondered this he was brought back to the negoations as the Stratusian delegate continued to speak. "That is true, champagne and party sausages as the world burns.." he had a dry chuckle at his own joke, still with the dark spectre which was the true weight of the situation looming over.

Snip

---

Ambassador Collins turned towards the newly arrived repersentive, he had heard vague rumours about the Kreigsreich of Iron. With there repersentive simply being known as the "Minister for War". The CID had done some research on this opportunist militaristic nation, all to similar to the imperium. There motive were most likely twisted with the end goal of furthering there nation at the expense of others. But he would remain civil until he had a reason to move against this new possible enemy. "We all hope these negoations prove fruitful after all the faith of millions hangs in the balance." after waiting a few seconds he heard about the Kreigsreich of Iron's plan to mobilize a fleet alongside that of the Nynphemburg. Neither where good signs, as the conflict seemed ready to spill over, from the devastation of of two nations to a conflict on a global scale.

Creeping Ever Closer

---

Now that the major players form both the Way Sun Cooperation, Mutual Cooperation Pact and the Tauros Imperium had arrived the talks could truly start, with the clock ticking steadily closer to contact and the all consuming midnight. These talks and its decisions would either help stop the clock or push it over the edge. The screens had changed for the first time since the first delegation arrived, now to a map of the globe it marked all the key players with faint blips still showing the four fleets approaching the point of no return.

Now the talks would begin in full and the clock would continue to tick...

The Central intelligence Directorate Asset "Epsilon"

---

The Central intelligence Directorate had always been a secretive agency, but with tension on the rise they had fallen silent. Deploying dozens of assets across Europe and rumours of some within the imperium it self, they where preparing. The government needed intelligence to decide whether they take the route they had been following so far taking it to the table talking about the strengths of diplomacy. Or top launch a devasting first strike in an attempt to claim an ultimate victory. The CID unit "Epsilon" was deployed to Zurich in order to tap the communications of the delegates alongside any of there forms of communication.. all in order to insure the Cooperation's edge.


Worldwide, 23 Hours till contact, with 10 seconds to midnight

---

Rising Forces

---

With fleets from the Kreigsreich of Iron and Nynphemburg, the situation was only going to get tenser. With the fleets from the four nations and no clear idea on whose side was whose, the Way Sun Cooperation saw little choice, mobilizing a small fleet of Submarines to trail behind each of these new approaching threats. While on the mainland of the cooperation, the air force and army had been moblized, with the army alongside the Civil Defence Agency began to institute marshal law across the nation. With chaos being contained, fear still permeated the country as the clock ticked ever closer to zero.

Hey just wondering if this is good enough, or long enough a response. TG me any suggestions or criticisms so I can help improve the RP and my own RP quality. Anyway i'll be adding more glimpses into the WSC later.

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

-snip-

"In nuclear war, all men are cremated equal."

— Dexter Gordon

Illarion watched as Rian made her grand entrance, her demeanor dripping with disdain and arrogance. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disbelief at her lack of decorum in such a significant gathering. The tension in the room was palpable, and he sensed that this meeting was teetering on a knife's edge.

He straightened his tie instinctively, clearing his throat.

"Botschafter Weiß has a valid point... Your Excellency," he began, his tone measured yet firm.

"We are here not merely to exchange pleasantries, but to address the very real threats that loom over us all. Diplomacy is our best weapon, and I assure you that every member of this council desires nothing more than peace... unless someone doesn't"

"It would serve us all well to remember that each nation present brings unique strengths and perspectives to the table," he continued, carefully choosing his words to avoid any provocation.

"We are not adversaries... and I... I would like to keep it that way."

Illarion’s gaze flickered briefly to the other delegates, eyeing their reactions and expressions nervously before returning to Rian.

"I understand that your position carries with it a burden, but it is crucial that we approach this situation with respect and understanding. We must not underestimate the will of those who stand against us, nor should we dismiss the potential for collaboration."

He offered a polite nod, hoping to convey sincerity amidst the tension.

"I urge you to consider the implications of hostility in this room, Your Excellency. We have an opportunity to secure not only your nation's survival but also a pathway to greater stability for all involved. We don't want to do this Kaiserin..."

---

Orelgrad, Stratusia
Misha sat quietly at the dinner table, chewing his food while the memory of the towering UR-700 lingered in his mind. The silence around him felt thick, charged with something he couldn't quite understand but was determined to. After a few moments, he finally spoke up, looking at his father.

"Papa, what is that huge missile for? The one they were lowering into the ground."

Kiril paused, his spoon suspended over his bowl of mushroom stew. He set it down and regarded his son with a thoughtful gaze. Misha's innocent curiosity mingled with the weight of knowledge he held from another time, another war.

After a moment, Kiril nodded, understanding that some questions deserved answers—even if they required a careful touch.

"Back in '91, Misha," Kiril began, his voice calm and deliberate,

"I served alongside the Iraqis and our allies in the desert. Coalition forces were pushing hard, but we had something they didn't—dedication, training, and powerful tools. I was in the Специальный Ракетный Корпус—the SRK. We operated missile systems like the Osen' back then. It's much smaller than the UR-700, but it had a role to play."

Misha's eyes widened with fascination.

"Did you drive it, Papa?"

"Yes," Kiril said, a touch of pride in his voice.

"I drove the TEL—the transporter for the Osen' TBM. It was… a demanding job. Every mission, every movement had to be precise. The SRK doesn't deal in mistakes. You see, Misha, those rockets, like the one we saw today, they aren't just weapons. They're a statement of strength, a deterrent. They show that our country is prepared, that we can protect ourselves when it's needed most."

Misha listened intently, caught between admiration and awe, trying to imagine his father in the desert, guiding the mighty Osen' TBM through sands and danger alike. The idea that his father once played such a vital role made him see the man in a new light.

"So that big missile—the UR-700—is it for protection too?"

Kiril nodded gravely.

"Yes, Misha. It's part of that same responsibility the SRK carries on its shoulders. Each of those missiles is more than just metal and fuel; they're a reminder to the world that we stand strong and protect those we care about. That's what the SRK was built for—and that's why men like me served, and why men like me still stand ready."

He smiled softly, reaching over to ruffle Misha's hair.

"One day, you'll understand all this better. For now, just remember that what you saw today is a symbol of our dedication to peace—one that we hope we never have to use."

After heading to bed, Kiril adjusted Misha's blanket, making sure he was snug and warm before sitting down at the edge of the bed. At his son's eager request for a story, Kiril's mind traveled back through the years, to a night that still lived vividly in his memory.

"Well," he began softly,

"After the Gulf War ended, there was a night I'll never forget. We were in Baghdad, right on top of this old parking garage. They'd turned it into a motor pool for the Osen' TBMs and Iraqi Scuds, and we had parked our launchers there while waiting to be reassigned. The tension had finally lifted, and people were relieved—a whole war behind us."

Misha's eyes sparkled as he listened intently, the idea of his father in far-off Baghdad holding him spellbound.

"That night, we gathered on the roof," Kiril continued, smiling at the memory.

"The Iraqis had brought out a lamb, and they were roasting it on a spit right there, seasoning it with spices and turning it slowly over the fire. I remember the smell—rich and smoky. Someone brought rice, and everyone chipped in with whatever they had left. We made a sort of makeshift feast, all of us together."

He could almost taste the lamb again as he recalled the night—the way the flavors had felt like a reward after so many tense weeks, the laughter and warmth of camaraderie under the Baghdad sky.

"There were Iraqi soldiers, too, the ones who'd been working with the Scuds. Most of them were young, like me at the time, maybe even younger. Some of them told stories about home, about their families, and their hopes for the future now that the fighting had ended. We weren't just strangers from two different lands; we were men who'd seen the same conflict, who wanted the same peace."

Misha's eyes had grown heavy, though he was fighting to stay awake, enchanted by the rare glimpse of his father's past.

"We sat there, eating and talking, watching the lights of Baghdad in the distance. There were no alarms, no sounds of battle—just the crackling of the fire and the hum of voices in the night. It was one of those moments when you realize what peace feels like, and how precious it really is."

Kiril reached out and smoothed Misha's hair. "It was a night that made all of us grateful for each other and for the chance to go home, to return to our lives."

As he finished the story, he noticed that Misha's eyes were closed, his breathing soft and even. Kiril leaned down, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

OOC: replying to WSC new post later

[Nynphemburg]

Arctic Sea - 400 miles SWW from the ‘Meeting Point’

NIF-15 La Darsena-Class Battleship, flagship of the 15th Imperial Fleet (IF)

---

Admiral Edward Simmlich was walking nervously towards the strategic room. He was ordered to reach the ‘Meeting Point’, in order to maintain a Nynphemburguese presence in that scenario and try to de-escalate the situation. He entered the room and looked at every face that was looking at him, strategists, advisers and officials, everyone was silent and was looking at him.
“Counter Admiral Leber, any update? Why did you call me so quickly?” he asked as he took his seat around the holographic table.
“Herr Admiral, 15 minutes ago, some soldiers on the reconnaissance corvette ‘Thetis’ noticed a destroyer, 60 miles away” answered Lewis. He looked worried, but Simmlich couldn’t really tell why… At least, not yet.
“The ‘Meeting Point’ is at least 350 miles away from here, at this pace we shouldn’t be there before 15 hours, how’s that possible?” asked Simmlich skeptic. “Herr Admiral” interrupted Brigade-General Viola Graine “it was not from WSC, nor of the Tauros Empire.”. “It flies the flag of the Kriegsreich of Iron.” finished Lewis.
At that point Admiral Simmlich froze for a second. “What the hell are they doing here!? We must tell the high command immediately! How many ships do we have here?”
“31, Herr Admiral: the super-battleship, four battleships, two submarines, an aircraft carrier and a bunch of destroyer.” said adviser Kant. “Munitions?”
“Enough for resisting a battle, but not two…”
Simmlich remained silent for some minutes, everyone was looking at him. “Is the KOI’s fleet directing towards the ‘MP’?” “Yes, Herr Admiral”
“We need to stop them, for the sake of the world.” he decided.
“Are we really going to fight them!?” asked Lewis incredulous. “No, we just have to slow them down. If they reach the ‘MP’ a war is assured. Warn the high command!”
“Yes Herr Admiral!”

---

Fleurdelis - Capitol city of Nynphemburg

The Black Palace (Ministry of War) - West Wing, High Admiralty of the Navy

Counter-Admiral Amedieu du Cherv was in the high priority communication room as on the maxi-screen appeared a red notification, a message directly from Admiral Edward Simmlich.

“The 15th fleet encountered an external military fleet on its way to the ‘Meeting Point’, reconnaissance ships identified it as the 12th Armada of the Kriegsreich of Iron. Their goal is unknown, but we believe that they want to interfere with this already delicate situation. We will intercept them in 1 hour and a half, 290 miles SWW from the ‘Meeting Point’. We don’t know how this will end, but the possibility of a battle is not to exclude.
-Admiral Edward Simmlich”

Du Cherv ran through the corridors of the Palace and arrived panting in Lara Debeau’s office.
“Alta-Admiral, you need to see this!”

---

Zurich - Switzerland

The congress room

---

Field-Marshall Bergendahm-Weiß was listening to the SRM delegate as his phone received a message.
It as from the admiralty, and it updated his knowledge about the current situation on the field. He stayed still and let other delegates speak, but he continued looking at the KOI’s delegate. Weiß couldn’t read his eyes, but he made sure that the Minister of War could read the suspect in his own. After ten minutes of this psychological game Weiß stood up and started with his speech:

“Today, is one of the most important days of our life, today we have the chance to save the world, or destroy it, and whichever path we choose there’s no turning back. I’m the first who wants peace, but someone here is a backstabber, a traitor…” said turning towards the KOI’s candidate.
“We wanna make sure that everyone in this assembly knows what Nynphemburg is capable to do if attacked, and that we won’t accept any offence against us.” he stopped for a moment, looking at every member of the council, before returning to facing the Ministry of War directly.
“We intercepted the 12th Armada, which was directing towards the ‘Meeting Point’. We don’ know what is its purpose, but for now it is blocked. The fleets are 10 miles away, and war could break at any moment, BUT… like I said we have the power to stop it.”
Weiß took a pause to let his word sink.
“Minister of KOI, here, before the international community I officially command you to retire your fleet, otherwise it will be annihilated, and it will mean war between KOI and Nynohemburg.”
Then Weiß turned towards SRM’s delegate: “Also, we would like you to clarify your position. Since you can count on such strong weapons, we find it necessary to know it, so that we can take proper precautions on the matter.”

This said Weiß sit again and stayed still as the other delegates continued with their speeches.

---

Arctic Sea - 290 miles SWW from the ‘Meeting Point’

NIF-15 La Darsena-Class Battleship, flagship of the 15th Imperial Fleet (IF)

“Here we are eventually” sighed Admiral Edward Simmlich, who received the notification from the Black Palace that negotiations were underway for the withdrawal of KOI’s fleet. “Our destiny depends on what a bunch of bastards decide in a safe room in Zurich. Schiße!”
Counter-Admiral Lewis, who was there with him nodded slowly “Here we are again, on the knife’s edge”

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

-snip-

Atom bomb baby, loaded with power.
Radioactive as a TV tower,
A nuclear fission in her soul,
Loves with electronic control.

— The Five Stars

Zurich
llarion listened intently, his calm expression betraying little as Delegate Weiß's words rang through the assembly hall. He took his time, glancing around the room, noting the tense faces and the collective apprehension hanging in the air. Once Weiß concluded, he stood, his face resolute and yet respectful as he prepared to address the council.

"Botschafter Weiß, Or Feldsmarschall, if I may," he began, his voice steady,

"it is well understood here, I believe, that Stratusia remains committed to its role as an intermediary in these delicate proceedings. We have invested heavily in preserving peace, stability, and the sovereignty of our allies and partners."

He nodded toward Weiß, giving a respectful acknowledgment.

"However, I must highlight, not to you personally, but to everyone here and anyone considering, that a pre-emptive strike on Stratusian territory is neither feasible… nor advisable. Our homeland, as it stands, is fortified with the 5Ya829 'Hou Yi' missile defense array. This system, encompassing our ABM network, is one of the most formidable in existence, and we are not, as many of you know, signatories to the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty of 1972. As such, our extensive network of 5V96 ABM batteries stands ready and capable, each kinetic impactor designed to reach velocities exceeding Mach 20—prepared to intercept and neutralize any incoming threats swiftly."

He took a brief pause, allowing the weight of his words to settle.

"Let me be absolutely clear," Illarion continued, his gaze now meeting Weiß’s directly, this part was directed towards the Nymphenburgese delegates specifcally,

"Stratusia's stance is not one of aggression but of defensive readiness. We seek no conflicts here and stand against any escalation that would destabilize our shared future. However, our priority remains the security of our people and our sovereignty. As a neutral party, we are focused on mediation, not intimidation, but rest assured, the cost of violating our borders would be substantial.”

Illarion then gestured lightly toward the assembled delegates.

"This forum is a place for diplomacy, and Stratusia's position here is rooted in upholding stability through cooperation. In that spirit, I implore all present to remember that words carry weight—weight that can sway the course of nations. Let us use this opportunity to avert any need for these defense measures, for the sake of preserving peace among all gathered here… for preserving humanity… peace and love." His tone softening yet remaining firm, a sincere tone peeking through the stoic façade. This was not from the mouth of a snobby delegate, but a man in his thirties, with a family — a supportive wife, energetic daughter, and a family dog.


With a respectful nod to the assembly, he returned to his seat, the hum of his words lingering in the silence that followed.

---

'Meeting Point' - 120km off, 10.5m underwater, SNF Fritz-Julius Lemp
The SNF Fritz-Julius Lemp glided silently beneath the surface, its steel hull braced against the pressure of deep ocean currents. Aboard, Kapitänleutnant Anton Vasiliyvich Konovalov remained quietly seated in his command chair, listening as Kim Gannon's "Moonlight Cocktail" drifted through the intercom, creating an eerie calm that contrasted sharply with the tension simmering throughout the vessel. The entire crew moved with a practiced efficiency, keenly aware that every movement counted in these waters where five powerful navies were now converging.

Konovalov gave a slight nod to his sonar operator, who was intently studying the readouts. They had risen to periscope depth, and the crew worked briskly to prepare the panoramic IR sight and activate the surface-scanning PESA radar. Konovalov himself peered through the periscope, observing the vast expanse of open sea—a seemingly peaceful sight, though he knew the 'Meeting Point' was rapidly turning into an arena where peace and war were both poised on a knife’s edge. (OOC: Ba dum tsss)

"Surface-scanning PESA online, Kapitänleutnant," the radar technician reported in a low voice, his hands deftly adjusting the controls to log the incoming signals. Konovalov watched the screens, dots and data markers flooding in as their radar began capturing the positions of nearby vessels. He could see ships from the KOI, the WSC, and even Nymphenburg’s navy, an array of shapes and readings materializing on their display.

The Kriegsbanner SSN, with its immense speed and Caterpillar Drive, was known for these delicate maneuvers—approaching conflict zones at a stealth unmatched by most submarines in service. With the advantage of speed, the sub could enforce blockades and track targets, its torpedo-only armament suited for high-stakes confrontations, should they arise. But here, today, their orders were simple: observe and report.

Konovalov allowed himself a brief glance at the torpedo loadout readouts, noting the familiar names: Barracuda-F, Type 53-65K, and the odd duckling: the VA-111 Shkval, each one ready if needed but, for now, still in wait. He reminded himself that they were only here to watch, yet he could not ignore the sense of anticipation pressing in around him. With the other fleets closing in, he could sense that they were on the edge of a very dangerous game.

"Maintain position and keep silent," he ordered softly, glancing toward his helmsman.

"Let’s make sure we see everything before they even know we're here."

As the soft hum of the Lemp’s machinery thrummed beneath their feet, the quiet resolve on Konovalov's face was matched by that of his crew, each one aware that, in these waters, a single misstep could set off a chain reaction no one could control.

However, the soft strains of "Moonlight Cocktail" filled the air, but for Officer Aspirant Paul-Ulrich Lemp, the music did little to ease his nerves. He stood close to Kapitänleutnant Anton Vasiliyvich Konovalov, a mixture of excitement and anxiety playing across his youthful features.

"Herr Kaleun…" Paul-Ulrich began, his voice low but eager,

"It feels like we're part of a great chapter in history. But at the same time, I… I can't shake this feeling of unease about what’s to come."

Konovalov turned to face him, the corners of his mouth curling into a reassuring smile.

"It is an important moment, Paul-Ulrich, but remember, our orders are clear: we are here to observe. Our task is to gather intelligence, not to engage. No need for worry."

"I know, but…" Paul-Ulrich hesitated, glancing at the control panels displaying incoming data from their radar systems.

"With so many navies converging, it just feels like something could happen at any moment. What if they mistake us for a threat?"

"Let them come," Konovalov replied firmly, his tone steady.

"We are the shadows in this game, and the Kriegsbanner is built for situations just like this. If it comes to it, we'll have the advantage of surprise, but I trust my crew, I trust you. We're prepared for anything."

Paul-Ulrich nodded, taking in the captain's words. He admired the calm confidence in Konovalov's demeanor, a stark contrast to his own bubbling nervousness.

"I guess I'm just not used to this level of tension. I always imagined being part of a great naval operation would be… different."

"That's the difference between imagination and reality," Konovalov said, his gaze returning to the periscope.

"We are not here for glory, but to serve our duty and protect our homeland. The history we make will not be about valor in battle but about the choices we make today."

"Right," Paul-Ulrich replied, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"I just want to make sure I do my part."

"You will, you're a natural born submariner." Konovalov assured him.

"Just keep your focus on the task at hand. Stay alert and learn from every moment. This is a unique opportunity—one that will shape your future. Every great captain has to start somewhere."

With a newfound determination, Paul-Ulrich straightened up, a glimmer of resolve igniting in his eyes.

"I won't let you down, Kaleun. I’ll be ready."

"Good," Konovalov said, clapping a reassuring hand on the young officer’s shoulder.

"Let's keep our eyes on the horizon, and be prepared for whatever unfolds. We may be observers today, but tomorrow is unwritten."

As the SNF Fritz-Julius Lemp continued its silent watch beneath the waves, the bond between captain and apprentice solidified, both aware that they were on the brink of a significant moment in history, no matter what direction it might take.

[Tauros Imperium]

She'd slightly tilt her head to the negative response from the fellow delegates. Her smile turning into a frown - the muscles inside her growing tighter as she sensed some sort of fear from them. "Hmm, I don't know what to do with you.. I already forgot each of your names. Not like that's important. Do not lecture me about respect." Observably - Rían would look at each of their faces, feeling pressured to start this meeting. She'd abruptly get up from her seat, headed to the nearest fountain with a water dispenser - noting of the lack of servants in the room. Turning around to walk back - before stopping to think about the immediate destruction of the Way-Sun, her lips creasing into an evil smile.

"You lot want a woman to start this? Whatever - my demands are simple, I want access to multiple ports from the Way-Sun and military access to their nation."

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

"You lot want a woman to start this? Whatever - my demands are simple, I want access to multiple ports from the Way-Sun and military access to their nation."

"Nah, I'd win."

— Satoru Gojo

Zurich
Illarion's gaze was steadily narrowing as Rían issued her ultimatum, her words dripping with a haughty disregard for the assembly. She demanded access to Way-Sun's ports and military channels with a smug certainty, as if her will alone could bend the nations of the world.

Illarion let out a tired sigh, similar to that of a dissapointed father, and when his turn to respond arrived, he spoke plainly, his voice unadorned and direct.

"That simply won't happen," he began, his tone unyielding.

"Your demands are based on the presumption that we'd willingly allow foreign control over our allies' resources. But as history has shown, we're not so easily bent to the whims of others. Stratusia has stood its ground before, beat its foes into the dirt, and it will again." He met her gaze unwaveringly, then continued,

"I recall the Gulf War of 1991. Stratusia and our allies overcame those who thought they could impose their will upon the region. Saudi Arabia fell, broken into fragments, its former empire scattered across the sands. I assure you, the Tauros Imperium would face a similar fate if it pursued the same path."

Illarion continued, his words shattering any illusions of complacency.

"The nations represented here each hold substantial atomic arsenals. No one here lacks the means to defend themselves or their people. If anything, Stratusia's 'platinum bargaining chip' — the UR-700 — remains proof of our own readiness and capability."


"If you truly seek collaboration, then abandon these ultimatums. But if you persist, know that Stratusia will not bow. Our history proves it, and our strength assures it. We would do well to remember that, no matter the darkness that might gather, we remain unbroken, masters of our own destiny. Or, as the poet William Ernest Henley wrote so powerfully:

'Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.'"

He turned to look directly at Rían.

"The fate of Stratusia, and of each nation here, is ours alone to command. 'I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.' Let that be a reminder — any nation that would impose its will on us will find that we are neither weak nor willing to yield."

"Nobody here will bend. Try and we'll all fall down.

[Aeyariss]

"You lot want a woman to start this? Whatever - my demands are simple, I want access to multiple ports from the Way-Sun and military access to their nation."[/blocktext]

"In exchange for? What are you offering." Lady Ashari, the representative from Aeyariss Empire to MCP asked the strange individual.

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

"You lot want a woman to start this? Whatever - my demands are simple, I want access to multiple ports from the Way-Sun and military access to their nation."

---

He started only being filled with further disdain for such a person. The tone, the feeling of superiority and the expectation that we would bend to do every demand she asked. Only reinforced by the slight smile the smugness all screamed of being from an Aristocracy. Being thought that she was superior to the rest deserving of this treatment and of us bending to their outrageous demands.

After listening to them completing there tirade of outrageous demand he spat back. "So you expect to bend like your spineless country men?" he than continued. "I was under the guise your nation had wished to negotiate and would send a diplomat and not an uneducated aristocrat who has been served the idea of there nations complete superiority since birth". He paused before continuing gesturing to the map. "We will not surrender a single port or part of the Cooperation."

"But we are not unreasonable we will negotiate because we all want peace he paused before continuing "Or at least not to die and for our homelands and families to burn alongside us." he reread the transcript double checking the demands of the Imperium's Delegate. "In any case we cannot accept those demands at all, but will offer an alternative of your forces stepping down in exchange for my forces stepping down"

[Kreigsreich of Iron]

Arctic Sea - 400 miles SWW from the ‘Meeting Point’

NIF-15 La Darsena-Class Battleship, flagship of the 15th Imperial Fleet (IF)

---

Admiral Edward Simmlich was walking nervously towards the strategic room. He was ordered to reach the ‘Meeting Point’, in order to maintain a Nynphemburguese presence in that scenario and try to de-escalate the situation. He entered the room and looked at every face that was looking at him, strategists, advisers and officials, everyone was silent and was looking at him.
“Counter Admiral Leber, any update? Why did you call me so quickly?” he asked as he took his seat around the holographic table.
“Herr Admiral, 15 minutes ago, some soldiers on the reconnaissance corvette ‘Thetis’ noticed a destroyer, 60 miles away” answered Lewis. He looked worried, but Simmlich couldn’t really tell why… At least, not yet.
“The ‘Meeting Point’ is at least 350 miles away from here, at this pace we shouldn’t be there before 15 hours, how’s that possible?” asked Simmlich skeptic. “Herr Admiral” interrupted Brigade-General Viola Graine “it was not from WSC, nor of the Tauros Empire.”. “It flies the flag of the Kriegsreich of Iron.” finished Lewis.
At that point Admiral Simmlich froze for a second. “What the hell are they doing here!? We must tell the high command immediately! How many ships do we have here?”
“31, Herr Admiral: the super-battleship, four battleships, two submarines, an aircraft carrier and a bunch of destroyer.” said adviser Kant. “Munitions?”
“Enough for resisting a battle, but not two…”
Simmlich remained silent for some minutes, everyone was looking at him. “Is the KOI’s fleet directing towards the ‘MP’?” “Yes, Herr Admiral”
“We need to stop them, for the sake of the world.” he decided.
“Are we really going to fight them!?” asked Lewis incredulous. “No, we just have to slow them down. If they reach the ‘MP’ a war is assured. Warn the high command!”
“Yes Herr Admiral!”

---

Fleurdelis - Capitol city of Nynphemburg

The Black Palace (Ministry of War) - West Wing, High Admiralty of the Navy

Counter-Admiral Amedieu du Cherv was in the high priority communication room as on the maxi-screen appeared a red notification, a message directly from Admiral Edward Simmlich.

“The 15th fleet encountered an external military fleet on its way to the ‘Meeting Point’, reconnaissance ships identified it as the 12th Armada of the Kriegsreich of Iron. Their goal is unknown, but we believe that they want to interfere with this already delicate situation. We will intercept them in 1 hour and a half, 290 miles SWW from the ‘Meeting Point’. We don’t know how this will end, but the possibility of a battle is not to exclude.
-Admiral Edward Simmlich”

Du Cherv ran through the corridors of the Palace and arrived panting in Lara Debeau’s office.
“Alta-Admiral, you need to see this!”

---

Zurich - Switzerland

The congress room

---

Field-Marshall Bergendahm-Weiß was listening to the SRM delegate as his phone received a message.
It as from the admiralty, and it updated his knowledge about the current situation on the field. He stayed still and let other delegates speak, but he continued looking at the KOI’s delegate. Weiß couldn’t read his eyes, but he made sure that the Minister of War could read the suspect in his own. After ten minutes of this psychological game Weiß stood up and started with his speech:

“Today, is one of the most important days of our life, today we have the chance to save the world, or destroy it, and whichever path we choose there’s no turning back. I’m the first who wants peace, but someone here is a backstabber, a traitor…” said turning towards the KOI’s candidate.
“We wanna make sure that everyone in this assembly knows what Nynphemburg is capable to do if attacked, and that we won’t accept any offence against us.” he stopped for a moment, looking at every member of the council, before returning to facing the Ministry of War directly.
“We intercepted the 12th Armada, which was directing towards the ‘Meeting Point’. We don’ know what is its purpose, but for now it is blocked. The fleets are 10 miles away, and war could break at any moment, BUT… like I said we have the power to stop it.”
Weiß took a pause to let his word sink.
“Minister of KOI, here, before the international community I officially command you to retire your fleet, otherwise it will be annihilated, and it will mean war between KOI and Nynohemburg.”
Then Weiß turned towards SRM’s delegate: “Also, we would like you to clarify your position. Since you can count on such strong weapons, we find it necessary to know it, so that we can take proper precautions on the matter.”

This said Weiß sit again and stayed still as the other delegates continued with their speeches.

---

Arctic Sea - 290 miles SWW from the ‘Meeting Point’

NIF-15 La Darsena-Class Battleship, flagship of the 15th Imperial Fleet (IF)

“Here we are eventually” sighed Admiral Edward Simmlich, who received the notification from the Black Palace that negotiations were underway for the withdrawal of KOI’s fleet. “Our destiny depends on what a bunch of bastards decide in a safe room in Zurich. Schiße!”
Counter-Admiral Lewis, who was there with him nodded slowly “Here we are again, on the knife’s edge”

The gaze of the Minister for War, meeting the Nyphenburg delegation, was steely ice as he responded, his voice going from a lazy drawl to the sound of iron, forged into a deadly sword.

“ A couple of points, Field Marshal.
First, I find the gall of Nyphemburg in accusing the Greater Union of warmongering to be astonishing, given that the dispatch fo the XII Armada was caused by the arrival of the Fifteenth Fleet of Nyphemburg. ‘Backstabber and traitor ’ I might be, but at least I do not attempt to blame others for my own faults.
Secondly, I would like to dissipate your delusions of grandeur. Your Fifteenth Fleet is a piddling squadron when compared to the XII Armada, and as such, this is your first, last, and only, chance to remove yourself from the path of the Armada. Fail to do so, and we will rain down hellfire and devastation upon all you’ve ever held dear. You are on the knife’s edge. Have a care, Field Marshal, else you might fall.
Finally, let me clarify one thing: the eagle does not bow to others, no matter how sanctimonious.”

[Tauros Imperium]

OOC: I don't understand, who is "strange individual"

Clarification - Rían I is the LEADER of Tauros Imperium, not a Marshal, Commander, or just a diplomat. She's the Kaiser, which means emperor. Rían came to Zurich personally to speak with the other diplomats attending to this matter. Correct me if I'm wrong.
Also for SRM - stop using those quotes, they don't even make sense anymore.

[Socalist Republic Of Mercenaries]

Also for SRM - stop using those quotes, they don't even make sense anymore.

OOC: Quotes are meant OOCly for the funny but alright.

[Aeyariss]

OOC: I don't understand, who is "strange individual"

OOC: Context, someone demanding access to military from a sovereign state that says No is clearly irrational, and idiot or crazy... but "strange" is... less offending ig

.

"The Most Serene Empire of Aeyariss do not take a nuclear threat against our ally lightly, Your Excellency. Surely your government can see how irrational this demand is. If you 'request' access to his nation, then by right, your should reciprocate the gestures as well and if you want the ports for trading then by all means, your nation ought to be offering purchase and not... whatever this powerplay you are attempting to establish here."

[The Way Sun Cooperation]

"The Most Serene Empire of Aeyariss do not take a nuclear threat against our ally lightly, Your Excellency. Surely your government can see how irrational this demand is. If you 'request' access to his nation, then by right, your should reciprocate the gestures as well and if you want the ports for trading then by all means, your nation ought to be offering purchase and not... whatever this powerplay you are attempting to establish here."

---

"My counterpart from Aeyariss makes a good point, these outrageous demands make no progress after all you are the leader of your Imperium" he still felt a strong hatred for the leader of the nation who threatens his home but it had softened not for the Smug Kaiser but for the sake for both nations. "Why does your nation seek the destruction of mine? This is a key point I would wish to discuss and it will lay the frame work for these talks as our nations fleets creep ever closer to war""

Ever closer, 20 hours till contact, 8 seconds till midnight

---

The Carrier Strike group "Dauntless" had been moving with full speed towards the possible contact point, it was just twenty hours out from meeting up with his brethren in the Ninth Defence Fleet and "Hanover" carrier Strike Group. The captain was surprised to see two other fleets approaching teh area, one from Nynphemburg a possible ally to the cooperation and the other from the untrusty Kreigsreich of Iron. He was quickly debriefed on the situation, being informed of the two nations tensions, and there threat to spark the conflict early. The Carrier Strike group was given new orders to keep there distance and observe the two fleet. Prepared to jump in on either if one becomes an ally and is attacked.

While this was occurring the silent workhorse of the Cooperation nuclear tirade lurked in the seas around the Taurous Imperium prepared for any eventuality including a First Strike... Each submarine carried anywhere from nighty to one-hundred warheads of varying yields. Each silently lurking to ensure that the Cooperation would have the last laugh if all went to hell.

[Nynphemburg]

The gaze of the Minister for War, meeting the Nyphenburg delegation, was steely ice as he responded, his voice going from a lazy drawl to the sound of iron, forged into a deadly sword.

“ A couple of points, Field Marshal.
First, I find the gall of Nyphemburg in accusing the Greater Union of warmongering to be astonishing, given that the dispatch fo the XII Armada was caused by the arrival of the Fifteenth Fleet of Nyphemburg. ‘Backstabber and traitor ’ I might be, but at least I do not attempt to blame others for my own faults.
Secondly, I would like to dissipate your delusions of grandeur. Your Fifteenth Fleet is a piddling squadron when compared to the XII Armada, and as such, this is your first, last, and only, chance to remove yourself from the path of the Armada. Fail to do so, and we will rain down hellfire and devastation upon all you’ve ever held dear. You are on the knife’s edge. Have a care, Field Marshal, else you might fall.
Finally, let me clarify one thing: the eagle does not bow to others, no matter how sanctimonious.”

Zurich - Congress Hall

“Firstly, our accuses are founded on the base of your ambiguous and definitely too aggressive attitude your country showed us.” Said Weiß looking at the MoW severely.
“Secondly, I care to remind you that Nynphemburg is part of two major military and economical alliances: the Mutual Cooperation Pact and the International Security Directorate. Attacking the 15th fleet would mean declaring war on Nynphemburg, therefore on more than 60 countries.” Continued the Field Marshall, looking towards the WSC delegate, hoping to get his support in this diplomatic conflict. In fact WSC is member of both the alliances and therefore total war would be assured.
“Lastly, your arrogance will be your end. You are highly underestimating us Minister. Our fleet is more modern, more technologically advanced and more efficient than yours, even if it’s smaller, Nynphemburg victory
chances are extremely higher than yours. So I’ll ask you nicely one more time, please leave the area.”

Northern Sea - 290 miles from the meeting point
NIF-H15 ‘La Darsena’ Class Destroyer, Flagship of the 15th Fleetl

A message arrived in the strategic room, as admiral Edward Simmlich was looking at the horizon. The sun was setting, and everything seemed calm and quiet but the message didn’t bring good news.

“Admiral Simmlich, the situation here in Zurich is very tense, but I must ask you to maintain your position. I talked with the Alta-Admiral Debeau about your situation. She ordered the 3rd fleet to send a detachment of 20 ships carrying LP-weapons. This should act as a deterrent for the KOI’s Armada.
In this dark moment we must ensure peace at all costs.
Field Marshall Bergendahm-Weiß is about to declare that Nynphemburg will stop being an intermediary and will side with the WSC. From now on, every attack on them is an attack on us.”
-Colonel Naëve

“LP-weapons is then” sighed admiral Simmlich, sipping his tea as he watched the sunset, knowing full well that every moment could be his last.

Zurich - Congress Hall

Weiß stopped talking to the Koi’s Minister and looked at the council:

“Colleagues, I think we have to make a choice now. The time of neutrality is finished. Now it’s time for serious negotiation, because war is knocking at our door. And for the complete and good result of these negotiations we cannot act as outsiders.
I announce that because of the tension in the northern sea, because of the threats received by the Kriegsreich of Iron, and because of the duties we have towards the Way Sun Cooperation, we officially side with the WSC, and are open and willing to engage in a real and true military and economic alliance”.
This said Weiß sat down again, hoping not to have signed his death sentence.