TCB RP Hub

Blood Moon
November 9th, 2023

Stephanie didn’t know where she was. The room was dark, a twinge red, and blue like the depths of the sea, seemingly all at once.
“You gained her favor. Finally,” a snarky voice said from behind her. The voice chuckled, arrogance seeping through like venom. “I didn’t think it was possible. You calling yourself a Jener, willingly. You gaining mother’s favour,” the voice said again. A black glove seemed pressed against Stephanie’s shoulder, hand inside gripping to her bones and tissues. The figure, the origin of the voice, stepped from behind Stephanie. A woman, clad in black boots, black leather pants and jacket, adorned with several medallions. Hair in a braid, black hat with the sigil of the frontier- and an anchor. The hat Aner had beside her. She smiled, while Stephanie staggered backwards.
“How mother tossed me aside,” she said reading Stephanie’s thoughts,”No matter, to her at least. You are my replacement. You finally see yourself as one of us. No better than us. You ally with the bureaucracy of the foreigners, give the Voidians of our people to the Free State. I suppose it’s fair for us mighty Voidstanians to control their country, but that’s my thoughts. To your ideology of selflessness, you’ve made quite the mistake.” Stephanie knew that she was right. But what could she do? Let Brezzia control the terms of their peace? Let foreigners pull Voidstania’s strings yet again? Kler cackled again. “You?! Assuming the foreigners are trying to manipulate Stania? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the nationalistic sister!” said Kler.
“Where are we!? Have you kidnapped me just to taunt me!? About what I’d expect from you!” said Stephanie.
“Oooo, get on someone's nerves, did I? Make the analytic sister lose her cool? Ha! Your stupidity amuses me, Stifi. I thought you’d be able to figure this one out,” said Kler. Stephanie only looked at her, whatever game Kler was playing-
“You really are this stupid, aren’t you. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. You already know, Stephanie. I, Kler Jener, admiral for the Nationalist Frontier, am dead. For a few months now, too. Instead, however, I am a specter in your imagination. A shame my intellect has been reduced to the imaginary. I am just you. You, telling yourself what you don’t want to hear. Naturally, it takes me, the older, superior, smarter sister to tell you what you cannot bear. You, Stifi, are doomed. You made your hard decisions, and now Voidstania dies.”

Semius Void woke up with a start. He didn’t feel well, and the dawn sun was just rising. He still heard the voices. Of his people. That he failed. They left him here. As they should. Stephanie would do far better. Or is she doomed because of you? said the voice of Green Foger in the back of his mind. Void pushed himself off the bed, and looked beneath it. Reflecting the dawn light on the cold steel was the Blood Blade. Semius looked at it. The symbol of his failure. His weapon of murder. Not of Green, but of all of Voidstania. All of his people. Void got up again, before returning to bed. Back to the stage in his dreams.

In all his years of living in Voidville, Thams Eyur never had willingly woken up at the crack of dawn. There were times during the Free State, sure, but never willingly, Today was different. Ocreal’s people were going to protest, and Modivel was going to stop it. To preach the truth to the people that had been to blind to see. That the deadly Brezzians would take over Stania, bomb it, destroy its culture and reinstate foreign control. Modivel wouldn’t allow it. And neither would he!

Jose Wright entered the Voidstanian Senate Chamber, a large, obelisk building just south of the Imperial Quarters. McGuffy and Jameson were arguing about something, Jameson mentioning McGuffy’s affair, McGuffy claiming Jameson funded the Nunenburgian terrorists. Today, however, Jose needed every vote he could to pass his new law. To say that Modivel, and his followers, were counterrevolutionary terrorists who deserve prosecution. The Identification of Terrorist Groups Act would stop Modivel, before drastic action from Modivel’s part could happen. Pro-Democracy protesters were gathering outside the Imperial Quarters now to call for action against Modivel. But in case the Authoritarians didn’t do anything, Jose’s democracy would.

Dawn Force wasn’t ready, but they had to be. Weaponry and supplies were pulled from racks, urgency filled the air. They had to move fast, lest Warner decide Minister Straz was of no use to them. So when Abyss barked orders, Infernal followed. They all did. Not even Volcan said a word. Dawn was rising. It was time.

Captain Flint oversaw the unloading of the cargo, personal purchases from White, out of the Armorklad. New, top of the line weapons. Hundreds of thousands of them. If not a million. It didn’t look like Warner was supplying a small insurgency, it looked like he was supplying an army. The Voidstanians had a strong navy and a decent air force, but their land military was weak. A trait inherited from their Free State, Flint supposed. Warner was going to abuse it, obviously, but did he need this many? Flint stopped his train of thought. He was a merc. Mercs don’t ask questions. He just watched, as the trucks drove the cargo through the sandy beach, and up Warner’s mountain.

The drive was silent. Not a word uttered. Aner in the front, a Red Suit beside her, driving. Hornius in the back, another two Red Suits and Staliss beside him. The limousine was extravagant, a relic of the old days. When Hornius still had his friend. When the cries of joy from audiences when they heard Warner’s name wasn’t a sign of the apocalypse. It didn’t matter now. Now, Hornius just needed to raise his army. He’d been scared thus far. He didn’t admit it, but he was. That’s why he didn’t act, didn’t fight. Because he didn’t want to lose men. But it was what Warner wanted, no, what Warner knew he’d do. Well, if Warner knew Hornius so well, then he should be preparing.

The preparations were set. The Hidden was ready. White had to make his case. He had promised Warner weapons, vehicles, ships and planes even, hoping he didn’t realize he was out of money. Now, after both national and international outcry, White was being forced to return. He did it for the good of the Federation, or at least the top of it. The people who mattered. Several other Cosmosis soldiers accompanied him, escorting him home. Captain Nate escorted him aboard. As the ship departed, White looked back at the mountain, and in his mind, he pleaded. Warner had ruined him, taken everything, in the span of a few short months. He would likely be fired, imprisoned, lose everything he’d worked towards. At this point, though, he was happy to just be away.

Isi Yeh reported for breakfast, in the cafeteria of the Imperial Quarters. Igno, of all people, was talking about his time training to be an assassin. Ulan was there, telling his recounts, and all the guards made jokes and laughed. Despite this, Isi still felt off. Tense. Sitting beside Igno, he conversed, but the feeling didn’t go away. Worse, he felt it across the table. Igno, Ulan, everyone else. All tense. Everyone knew Modivel would give another speech. Everyone knew about Ocreal’s protest to arrest him. This was just an affair regarding the Senate and Modivel, though. So why did Isi feel so tense?

Ronig Hirs sat beside his secretary, Jonny Uli. They were silent, reviewing documents about U.F. politicians and Modivel’s intrigues. Jonny broke the silence first,
“Why did you send Dawn Force? Do you think they can-”
“I don’t know. But I must try. Warner is planning something, if his plans are not yet complete. The military tried, and failed. I must try now, before Voidstania is dead,” said Ronig. Jonny paused, but nodded. He understood. The two returned to silence.

Modivel Damon stood amongst his crowd, the morning sun beating down amongst his people. Voidville in the background, the dew of the plains and the light breeze, the plains comforting him. Such a peaceful place. A shame, really. As he entered the stage floor, his crowd cheered, howled, the signs of protest against democracy as a whole being raised.
“My supporters. My people who have seen the light, who join me, not just as allies, but as friends. Hear me now, for it is now that Voidstania is in the most peril! Today, Ocreal Listina and Jose Wright conspire to shut down me and our message! Shut down you! To give up on the fight against Brezzia! Now, Stephanie has sent a second attempt at peace, and the victims of the Port Voidsmith attack will never be avenged! Peace sacrifices our people to them! To their whims! We cannot allow it!” Modivel yelled, and the crowd screamed for him as king.

Moving stealthily, Dawn Force navigated the rock terrain. Warner’s fortress was right there. Entering the catacombs was easy, but navigating them was not, and as they snuck through them, toward the center, the prison, Infernal couldn’t help but feel like something was off.
“Did the Frontier sleep in?” Volcan said behind her,
“Quiet. You will expose us, Volcan. There will no doubt be some, soon,” said Abyss, as they continued through.
“Do we know where we’re going?” said Snakebite, but Abyss shook his head.
“Only roughly. We have old info, sure, but the Frontier doesn’t post their schematics. We follow the plan,” said Abyss. As if on cue, Markman pointed to a passage, and a door. Next to it, Cosmosis mercs, who were shot before they could draw their weapons. Hone broke the door down, and shot two guards that had come to inspect the noise. Hone motioned the others to follow, and they turned left down the stone corridors. Infernal heard voices behind her, but Volcan threw several smoke grenades, and they rounded another corner. The following hallway was a simple straight away, with some stairs presumably leading up. Two Cosmosis troops ran down the stairs, but Abyss shot them before they could fully understand the situation.
“They’re still coming from behind,” said Volcan
“Coming from above too,” said Snakebite. Infernal pulled out her gun, and pointed towards the entry to the hall, but Volcan shook his head.
“Hone will clear the stairs, I’ll deal with these,” he said, pulling three heavy duty jars of a black liquid. He poured them out, and struck a match, watching as the liquid caught flame.
“That isn’t VIC standard,” said Abyss,
“It worked, didn’t it?” said Volcan, backing away from the smoke and the flames,
“No, because the smoke is going to fill the whole chamber,and rise to the next floor. Wait before being an idiot,” said Abyss, before jumping ahead. Infernal followed Abyss and the others to the upper floor, where several Cosmosis troops had already been gunned down. One more was held at gunpoint, with Hone holding the soldier at gunpoint.
“He says the prison is that way,” said Hone, pointing towards a door on the left, about midway through the hallway. Just then, the doors at the end of the hallway swung open, and a bulky figure in what appeared to be a gas mask, using the door as cover, emerged. He rolled several canisters that leaked yellowish gas out, masking him, and his shots. Infernal knew what this was. Who this was,
“Mustard gas! Get to the prison!” Infernal said, instructing Dawn Force towards the left chamber. They rushed in, into what appeared to be a storage unit. Piles of large crates of cargo filled the room.
“I thought we had killed Tusker…” said Abyss, closing the door to the storage unit,
“Wren can’t be far then either…” said Hone. Infernal knew he was right, Wren and Tusker never seemed to operate apart. In fact…
Infernal jumped out of the way as a sniper round impaled the crate that was where her head was seconds ago.
“Did Dawn Force miss me?” said Wren, from somewhere in the storage unit. The door shuddered too, and Dawn Force ran again, attempting to stay guarded from the direction of Wren’s shot. They also heard the gas from the hallway begin seeping in; clearly, Tusker had broken through. Infernal heard metal and wood clanging as well, Wren wasn’t staying still. Snakebite, who was leading the group, stopped to fire, and gunfire returned at him. Another smaller gas grenade rolled towards him, and he turned back. Infernal heard another clang of metal, as Snakebite turned away from the gas,
“Snakebite, duck!” Infernal said, as another shot fired. Snakebite crouched and rolled out of the way, avoiding a bullet by just inches.
“Thanks,” Snakebite said, as another gas grenade made its way towards Dawn Force, Tusker firing from behind it. Abyss led the charge away, as more gas filled the room. Finally, at the end, there seemed to be a doorway and beside it, several trucks and a large garage door. Some Cosmosis soldiers too, because the two assassins weren’t enough, Infernal supposed. As Dawn Force made their way to cover, another gas grenade rolled towards Infernal, but she grabbed it, throwing it at the Cosmosis troops as Snakebite provided cover fire. As the gas began to burn the Cosmosis troops, Hone made quick work of them. Markman was firing at something behind them. Wren,, Infernal thought.
“Mark’! You know if you had eyes on Wren, you could’ve told us!” said Volcan. Markman rarely spoke. It was how losing Starlight, his girlfriend, affected him. Infernal just wished he wouldn’t sacrifice the mission for his grief.
“The door is ahead! Just as in my schematics!” said Abyss, as Infernal fired again at Wren. They moved towards the door, just behind the trucks, and closed it. This hall seemed different, a main staircase going towards a large, ornate chamber. Warner’s throne. Abyss motioned them to be silent, the chamber’s dim light illuminating their ascent. They moved, slowly, towards the stairs. The stairway had a middle platform, which split to form another stairway down. Abyss led them forward again, but a voice stopped them.
“This bunch of nerds is Dawn Force huh? Interesting,” said a voice, coming from an intercom. Abyss motioned them to run forwards, however the other side of the staircase was blocked, Cosmosis soldiers suddenly flooding in.
“To the Throne, it’s the only way!” said Abyss, providing cover fire as the Cosmosis soldiers either fell or found cover. Jumping and rolling, an impressive feat at Abyss’ age, he made it across the platform, throwing a grenade down the stairs. They ran up, and entered the throne room. Much to Infernal’s confusion, it was empty. In the distance, near the throne, was a small metal door. Dawn Force began to move towards it, however something stopped them. A voice from behind, the same as one from the intercom.
“Dawn Force! You must be looking for this girl here, aren’t you?” said who Infernal knew to be Daniel Stevens, holding a heavily altered assault rifle at Mina’s head. He was a bulky man, with a huge frame. He was dressed in an all black trenchcoat, with black books made of some metal and gloves of the same material. “I know you want her, but I’m afraid I won’t have it. Not without a fight, at least! Now, I’m going to take my prisoner out of this stupid fortress, and to my flagship, The Dark Star” said Stevens.
“Give us the Minister, and tell us where Warner is!” said Infernal. Stevens chuckled to himself, and smiled.
“Feisty one, aren’t you? I hope you realize you aren’t in any position to make demands. I’ll tell you though, Warner’s gone, took a helicopter out of here when the fighting started, you aren’t going to catch him” Stevens started, “As for the Minister, like I said, I’m not going to give her up without a fight, and this just isn’t the place to do it. I’ll be waiting in the Dark Star, and I’ll see you there.” Just as he finished, a bullet flew across the room, hitting Stevens in the chest, and he clutched Mina as he fell. A disgruntled man in a torn Voidstanian military uniform motioned for Dawn Force to leave.
“I know you want your Minister. Grab her. I need to escape,” said the soldier,
“Don’t think we’re so easily fooled, Surr. I’ve read your file,” said Hone, pointing his gun at Surr. Suddenly, a flash grenade rolled in front of them blinging Dawn Force, as they and Surr dropped to the ground. Abyss threw smoke grenades of his own, but the clanging of some sort of metal seeming to indicate the threat left the room.
“Do you want to bet that’s Stevens?” said Volcan, getting up and following. Dawn Force rushed down the now broken stairwell. Re-entering the storage unit, they saw the trucks had, mostly, left. Stevens, though without Mina, turned towards them. He looked down at his trench coat, a bullet hole now running through his chest.
“You know, these are tailor made. Expensive,” said Stevens, discarding it, revealing a full set of plate armor underneath in the same metal as his gloves and boots.
“Hand over the Minister!” said Volcan,
“Fine then! You want to fight me? Then catch up!” said Stevens. He climbed into one of the remaining trucks. The truck began to move, rushing down the stone tunnel. “There’s another truck,” said Surr, shooting its driver dead. Abyss reached the front seat and hopped in, and Volcan got in the passenger’s seat. The rest of Dawn Force then jumped into the back of the truck. Starting the engine using the dead driver’s keys, they rushed down a tunnel of stone, spotting Stevens up ahead. Noticing them, Stevens fired something from his rifle.
“Is that a grenade?!” said Volcan, as Abyss steered out of the way. Moments later, the grenade exploded, rocks from the tunnel falling from the sky as Abyss swerved to prevent getting crushed. Hone grabbed his own pistol, and began firing it at the truck, however Daniel only returned fire. The cavern opened to the other side of the mountain, three docked ships in the distance in the rocky beaches of Nunenburg. Firing another grenade, Daniel caused Abyss to swerve, however the only seeming safe place was down.
“I’d suggest holding on. Prepare yourselves!” said Abyss, swerving off the path and into the rocky and steep terrain.
“To the back! Stop us from tipping over,” said Hone, as they barely avoided tipping over. Finally, they seemed to have stopped, safe, and with their truck intact.
“Well, good job Abyss,” said Volcan. Infernal hoped they wouldn’t argue, although their wanted ‘ally’ seemed excited.
“Well, you aren’t dead,” said Abyss, matching Volcan’s sarcasm, and as Surr chuckled
“I know I’m not dead,” said Volcan, “How else would I-”
“Hi, ‘not dead’” said Snakebite, as Volcan rolled his eyes. Hone, however, moved in the middle of the truck,
“Look, we’re making a fool of ourselves to our guest, and Stevens is getting away, we must-” he stated,
“Follow the mission,” said Markman, “Do our duty.” Hone nodded. He was right, they had to bring Mina back. She must’ve been halfway to the Dark-Star by now…

Stephanie read over the peace terms, though she really didn’t have too. She would sign off on it. It had to be done. The protests were already raging outside, calling for Modivel’s arrest. And it would come, but not yet. Not before Warner was dead, and whatever he was planning was foiled.
“Tell delegate Tore Ela that he may sign the treaty. Hopefully, it will last,” said Stephanie into her intercom. She pulled out another paper, and began to write her proposal to the Royal House of Law. An act that would allow Modivel to be arrested. She looked out the window again, the sun nearly fully up in the sky. Mother would be there soon. She’d admit she was a Jener. Shoving the thoughts out of her mind, she returned to her work.

Thams listened to Modivels cries. The speech that was going on for hours. Now, he had been ranting about the Brezzian war, and Ocreal.
“Indeed, the Brezzian war cannot end! Not after what they’ve attempted to do to the people of Voidstania! Not what they’ve done to the people of Voidstania! Vicelord Rock attempts to bring an end to this war! She conspires to take down Voidstania!” said Modivel. It was an outlandish claim, but he seemed to play a tape. And there it was. Stephanie, no, Stifi, in league with a federate. It couldn’t stand! It wouldn’t stand! The crowd agreed. It wouldn't stand! Down with Stephanie! Modivel for king! “Stifi and her tyranny is now clear! She is a traitor! Ocreal stands with her! So her supporters are traitors too! All of them, traitors to Voidstania! Deceivers! They stand not for us! Not for our people! But for themselves, and their foreign friends! So now I say, we must stand! Not stand back, but stand! Fight this tyranny!” said Modivel again, and the crowd cheered. He was right! He was right! Stephanie, her treachery, It couldn’t stand! In that moment, in Thams’ heart, the crowd seemed to move as one! Their rage as one. Their cries were their voice! Their voice was their rage! Their rage was their power! They would stand! And they would be powerful! A cop, a chief, Loy Allus, moved them towards Delta Depot, the military base in Voidville. Undefended, as many of the soldiers were amongst their masses. They knew what they’d grab. It was time. The crowd stood strong, their hearts, their rage as one. They would stand!

The Limousine stopped abruptly, and an officer told them to halt. Aner couldn’t believe his insolence. She fanned herself, and grumbled insults under her breath.. “I’m sorry but this road and all roads leading to Stania Square have been closed. Ocreal’s supporters have a protest there,” said the officer.
“Do you understand who I am, and what matters I have to discuss! Let me through!” said Aner,
“My apologies. Blame those protests not me. Frankly, something should be done about them. They’re running this country…” said the officer. Aner just sighed. They’d have to wait. Hopefully, Stephanie wouldn’t mind.

Dawn Force was nearly there, nearly at the docks. About 10 ships still stood after their defeat at Furvania, and leading them was the Dark Star. Beside it, the Armorklad, and the Hidden. But only the Dark Star and the Armorklad were docked there. Odd.
“I expected more ships,” said Volcan,
“Perhaps if you read the briefings, you’d know the Cosmosis should have more,” said Hone, while Surr just chuckled.
“I’m surprised,” Surr said, “The top force in Voidstania seems to hate each other’s guts!” Infernal couldn’t believe how far from the truth this was, but she didn’t bother correcting him.
“We’re here, get out,” said Abyss, as they exited the truck. As they approached the docks, Cosmosis troops congregated towards them, however a flashbang took care of them. Markman led the charge up the ladder and into the Dark Star, and Infernal ducked behind a turret as fire erupted on deck. Abyss cried something, but Infernal couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, Snakebite ran to her turret to use as cover, before the turret he was hiding behind exploded. Somebody had a bazooka.
“You’d think they wouldn’t choose to destroy their own weapons,” said Snakebite,
“Well, maybe they’re stupid. They haven’t been much of a fight,” said Infernal. Infernal shot at the Cosmos troops on the upper deck, allowing Abyss, Volcan, and Markman to run to the main turret. Smoke grenades exploded up in the upper deck, allowing Infernal and Snakebite to join them.
“Tell Sight to give us more smoke grenades next time, we’re out,” said Volcan.
“Do you still have those matches?” Abyss asked, as Volcan handed him one. Throwing it to the ground, the floor near them lit up in flames. “Let’s move before this reaches us,” said Abyss, pointing to a door underneath the main hatch. The smoke had cleared, however, and the Bazooka-Guy had reloaded.
“Trust me on this,” said Snakebite, moving back to the non-destroyed turret behind them, providing cover. “Go!” he said, grabbing an assault rifle from a dead enemy and firing at Bazooka-Guy again. Infernal was the first to honor this, making a beeline towards the door, and the rest followed, but Volcan stayed.
“Volcan! Let’s go!” said Hone,
“No! I’m not leaving ‘Bite alone!” Volcan said,
“Not going puts him in more danger! Move!” said Infernal. She was tired of Volcan’s stubbornness. Reluctantly, Volcan moved towards them, muttering something under his breath. Infernal decided not to question him about it.
“Where is Surr?” asked Hone. The Sergeant appeared to have vanished, and Infernal hadn’t seen him since they boarded the ship.
“Finish the mission,” Markman said, and Abyss nodded. Of course all Markman cared for was the mission, he didn’t allow himself to feel again. Infernal just wished he’d speak up sometimes though. They were more than a force. They were a family. They were there for him, he just needed to talk. Dawn Force moved down through the Dark Star, they encountered a small dining room, with some soldiers enjoying a meal. Putting guns to their heads, they learned where Stevens had holed up. Just one room down, apparently. Following these instructions, they descended a staircase, and opened a large steel door. Infernal noticed Stevens immediately, he was looking at them, expectantly. Around him were steel cargo containers, labes like guns, explosives, equipment, medical aid on each of them. Large, durable- Perfect for cover. The room was surprisingly spacious, clearly making up a decent bit of the back half of the ship. Infernal couldn't imagine how much this must’ve cost. The other clearly expensive thing was Steven’s gear. He must’ve anticipated getting shot, because he was in full plate armor, likely kevlar, and he now donned a helmet with a pyramid shaped extrusion, for style most likely. In Steven’s hands was his custom gun, and beside him, a large ballistic shield, seemingly with spikes underneath to be planted into the ground and used as armor.
“Finally, you made it. I assume you’re itching for a fight as much as I am?” said Stevens. Infernal didn’t bother, and just shot him, the bullet hitting the shield and falling to the ground.
“Hah! You are feisty! You’re bullets won’t do anything to my shield!” said Stevens, “It’s made for battle!”
“Yeah and battle is expensive. Why waste all your money on armor?” said Volcan.
“Battle is the reason life is worth living! You morons stay back to defend your morals, talk on and on about helping the weak and making things fair! Who cares about any of that! I grew up poor in the Federation. I had nothing! And when you’re poor in a place like the Fed’ you have to be strong, so I was strong. Nobody picked on me because I’d fight, and I f*cking loved it. It made me feel better than anything I’d ever felt. One day, I went a bit too far, and my opponent didn’t get back up. That felt the best. I thought I’d get in trouble, but the Fed’ isn’t like that. They’re corrupt. Immoral. They didn’t even bother to arrest me! They needed someone for another one of their pointless wars, so I joined the military, and I did great in it. I killed so many people they gave me medals for it! Not that I needed ‘em. But then, the war ended, and I had no way to make money… or kill. So I founded the Cosmosis, to keep doing what I love. You’d be surprised how many bureaucrats want to make people die! Soon, an honest warrior such as myself can make a killing,” said Stevens.

“You’re sick!” said Volcan,
“Am I? People have been killing since the dawn of time! War for the hell of it! Look, it doesn't matter now. What matters is getting to my favorite part. Who cares about morals! Let’s just fight!” said Stevens. Abyss drew his gun, firing at Stevens, but the mercenary leader hid behind his shield. Infernal rushed behind one of the containers, and fired her gun, drawing Stevens’ attention. He responded by firing two grenades at her, which exploded as she rolled out of the way, hiding behind two more crates, the explosions damaging the crates behind her. She continued to move around him, attempting to flank him, but he must have noticed, launching grenades at the rest of Dawn Force, allowing him to duck behind a crate. Infernal moved towards the madman, but she guessed he saw her, as he latched his gun to his back, and charged at her with his shield. Infernal tried to fire at him, but the shield deflected it, and his bash hit her, knocking her to the ground. Stevens attempted to smash the spiked edge into her, but Infernal rolled out of the way, narrowly dodging it. Markman, Abyss, and Volcan moved towards her, firing at Stevens and forcing him behind the shield again. He fired two more grenades, forcing the group to split again and destroying more of their cover.
“Ahahahaha! And they run away! Isn’t this fun!” said Stevens, rushing around the corner and firing at Infernal again. He was moving fast for someone in that much gear, and Infernal didn’t like it. He rushed at her with his shield again, but she dodged it, narrowly sliding by. Now that she was behind him, she fired at his back, clearly hurting him, but leaving him standing.
“Ahaha! Can’t kill me that easily!” said Stevens. On his other side, Markman had seen Infernal’s predicament and rushed to her aid, leaving Abyss, Hone, and Volcan to whatever they were planning. Markman fired at Stevens, but he planted the shield in the ground and turned to punch Infernal, knocking her to the ground. Infernal attempted to rise, as Markman’s gun ran out of ammo. Stevens kicked Infernals' gun away from her, and attempted to crush her under his shield again, but Markman ran behind him and grappled with the armored man.
“Really? That’s the best you’ve got!?” taunted Stevens, punching Markman before hitting him with the side of his shield against one of the metal crates. Infernal heard the sickening crack of bones breaking, and Stevens' manic laughing indicated he did as well. She didn’t grab her gun. She had no time. She just ran at Stevens, pulling his arm and stopping him from shooting Markman. He fired a grenade into her, but she grabbed it with her free arm and threw it behind her, twisting herself around him and using Stevens’ shield to block herself, as she heard him groan in pain, shrapnel running into him.
“Firing that was dumb,” said Infernal,
“My armor is tough! I would’ve lived, easily. You and your friend, on the other hand, would be nothing but dust!” said Stevens, still groaning in pain and getting his bearings. Infernal grabbed Markman and helped him to his feet. His arm was clearly broken, but he was lucky it wasn’t worse.
“Battleplan 27! Infernal, Markman, get into position!” yelled Abyss from somewhere nearby, perhaps only a few crates to her right. Stevens heard this as well, and had stopped recoiling. Charging at Infernal again, she and Markman ran ahead, outrunning Stevens and making it to Volcan and Abyss. who were just around a corner. She couldn’t see Stevens anymore, but heard him and Hone firing at each other.
“Hone is in position. Now!” said Abyss,
“My pleasure. Let’s see what that armor can handle!” said Volcan, throwing a grenade. Suddenly, several high powered grenades exploded in their storage container, hitting pieces of the ship, and throwing Stevens back into a wall. He didn’t move.
“C’mon, let’s find Straz!” Volcan said.

Their voices were one. Their feet caused earthquakes. They were power. They were power! Thams could feel it. The power the riot had, marching into Delta Depot. Military personnel gave the crowd armaments from the reserves, and their voices continued to build. Thams never felt so strong. So confident. So whole. They grabbed guns one by one. When the commander of the base found out about Stifi’s treason, he too joined their ranks. But then in the break room, someone stood up. Then another. Then another. Then a fourth.
“We will not stand for this! It’s treason!” said the first. The mob stopped for a second. Their cries quelled. A shot was fired. And then there was silence. The power faded, and it felt wrong. It was wrong. Someone was dead. And then the voices spoke again.
“Die traitors!” said someone. “Traitors!” the rest cried. The voices compelled him, the mob’s cheers drowned out Thams’ morals. Down with the traitors! We are strong! The other three didn’t stand a chance, gunned down as the cries sprang up again.
“Kill the pigs!”
“Kill the traitors!”
“Down with Voidstania!”

Sergeant Sergio Surr heard an explosion. Not like the ones before, but now fainter. Below deck, emanating from the holes in the deck caused by a rocket launcher. It wouldn’t matter soon. He was not a member of Dawn Force. He was not here for some mission, some government, or to accomplish some goal. He was here to do things for himself. That’s why he ditched Dawn Force, and now was climbing up the ladder and into the Armorklad. Almost instantly upon reaching the deck, he was shot at, but he hid behind a turret. He didn’t shoot back either. He had a plan, far greater than the simple one of the Cosmosis.
“Soldiers! I wish to speak to your captain, regarding info on Warner!” said Surr. The guards turned to discuss it amongst themselves, yet Surr knew they’d let him speak to the captain. Sure enough, they turned, gestured for him to follow and escorted him to the quarters of their captain.
“Hello, Mr. Surr. I am Maximillain Flint, the captain of this vessel, and recently promoted Vice Admiral of the Cosmosis Fleet. You wanted to talk?” said Captain Flint, as his hand drifted towards his pocket.
“Yes, I believe I did,” said Surr, drifting his hand downward as well, nearly at the hilt of his gun. He wouldn’t be caught off guard that easily.
“What is there to say about it,” said Flint, resting his hand on the hilt of his gun. The guards now too seemed to raise their rifles. Flint attempted to draw, but Surr drew as well. Neither fired.
“You know of Warner, but you haven’t met him. Do you think he still needs you? Still needs to pay you?” said Surr.
“He’d better pay us,” said Flint,
“He won’t. I know you’ve tried contacting the rest of the fleet. But they haven’t responded, have they? Their communications are jammed. Warner never planned to pay anyone, or give Nunenburg to anyone but himself,” said Surr. The shock on Flint's face told him he’d won. Flint put away his gun, and said,
“What’s this to do with me?” said Flint. The two soldiers lowered their rifles, and Surr lowered his gun.
“I know your kind. You wish to gain the glory from warfare. To have power. To feel powerful,” said Surr as Flint sat, “From now on, you’ll take orders from me. And I need to secure our power. You will order your men to fire on the Dark Star.” Flint gasped, but Surr stayed, unmoving. “Don’t ask questions,” said Surr. The weak captain crumbled, motioning to his troops,
“F-Fire on the Dark Star! Immediately!” said Captain Flint, and they left the room.

In the hull of the Dark Star, the crumpled form of Daniel Stevens rose from his sitting position, against one of the ship’s walls. The fools thought they would get him, thought they could break his armor! Idiots! He wasn’t dead yet, so this fight wasn’t over. Good, it wasn’t nearly long enough. Moving, he reloaded his gun and grabbed several incendiary grenades. He got to the nearest walkie-talkie.
“This is Commander Stevens. The Dark Star is to leave the dock, immediately! Park her about 10 miles further out! Make sure the Voidstanians don’t leave the ship, but don’t kill them. Leave that bit to me!” Stevens said, cackling. While he knew not killing Dawn Force was a poor decision tactically, he frankly didn’t care. Because fighting them would be far more fun. Now, to catch up to them…

They were 9 hours out, the three o’clock sun beating down on the crew of the Hidden. Not all was well though. About two hours ago, Joseph White had begun to vomit uncontrollably. The doctors said it was unlike anything they’d ever seen, and placed White in quarantine. The last thing Captain Nate heard the diplomat say was this dark beast, a terrible great cat rising from the sea, to prowl the ship. Other crew members said it too, this creature in the dark, There wasn’t any creature, though. Three separate task forces had examined the whole ship, but they found nothing. Then, just a few moments ago, the doctors said another two soldiers had begun to vomit, as well as a janitor and one of the doctors. Now, tasked with this unknown illness, Nate ordered Major James to take his company to examine the deck again. He then sealed himself in the wheelhouse. And so the ship continued.

The walls of the Dark Star seemed peculiarly oppressive as Dawn Force ran through it. Infernal noted the durability of the ship, the hardened steel seemed to perfectly match Stevens’ fighting style. To fight fast, and rush hard. Such was life of the warrior type, she supposed. Up ahead, a marker labeled ‘Brig’ hung above a doorway.
“The Cosmosis aren’t good at hiding things, are they,” said Volcan,
“Don’t draw attention! I quite like being alive,” said Abyss, as they reached the door. Hone set Markman against the wall and opened the door, Minister Straz in a cell sitting on the ground.
“Minister Straz, we’re here to get you out of here,” said Hone, breaking the lock with a bullet.
“We must escape. To complete the mission,” said Markan,
“You and your mission. You never talk about anything but it!” said Volcan,
“Were you not scarred?” said Markman,
“By her death? Of course, nimwit! She was my sister! But I moved on, I can’t dwell on that, when I can focus on keeping you all alive!” said Volcan, which Infernal knew was a lie. Markman didn’t respond, simply turning. Volcan sighed, and followed Abyss as Dawn Force took Straz throughout the halls of the battleship. They eventually exited, reaching the deck of the ship once more. Snakebite must’ve still been fighting, as gunfire continued to roar throughout the deck. Several holes and fires from the rocket launcher also made visible marks on the ship, scarring its appearance.
“Think they see us…” said Hone as Dawn Force scattered to get cover. Infernal’s luck of course meant that she ended up with Mina and Hone, but luckily the rocket launcher wasn’t on them. Several Cosmosis troops too had managed to reach their section of the deck, as the rocket launcher guy moved down to get better angles. Despite not being particularly close, Infernal could still hear Snakebite quipping at the rocket launcher guy.
“You’d make a good stone collector! You seem to really like rock kits!”
“What is with you and Volcan choosing the worst times to make jokes!” said Abyss.
“They’re distracting them…” said Mina, and she was right. The Cosmosis had concentrated their fire in the direction of their voices. Infernal, knowing her queue, snuck behind the troops and fired into their backs, however she ran out of ammo before two went down. As they turned, bullets pierced them from the side.
“Remember to reload,” Hone teased,
“Why should I when you’ll remember for me,” said Infernal.
“Plan executed flawlessly,” said Abyss, exiting his cover, however the rocket-launcher guy must’ve seen them and took his sights off Snakebite… however he stopped, and turned around, walking through a door into the ship. Dawn Force paused, but took their victory.
“Mission complete,” said Markman,
“A slight issue…” said Snakebite, and it only took seconds for Infernal to notice it. They were out at sea. The shore was still in view, sure, however they were far enough that the ocean was deep and Markman and Mina couldn’t swim it. The Armorklad was behind them, although unlike the stationary Dark Star it was pulling parallel to it.
“Admiring the view? I couldn’t let you escape, we have a fight to finish, ” a voice from behind them said. Stevens. “Really didn’t think you’d kill me that easily, did you? Guess you’re stupider than I thought. Fine by me, though, so long as you die all the same! Let’s get back to having our fun!” said the armored man. As he said that, the guns of the Armorklad lowered, and fired a barrage into the back of the Dark Star.
“What the f*ck! Traitors! Everyone to their stations, I’m finishing this!” said Stevens. As the guns of the Dark Star swiveled towards the traitors, Stevens rushed towards Infernal, Markman, and Mina. Abyss shot at him as he was halfway to his targets, causing him to plant his shield to block the bullets while launching a grenade towards Infernal. She rushed Markman and Mina to the side but the grenade impacted before she could fully dodge. Shrapnel laced her, and the flames of the grenade managed to scorch her skin. Luckily, the shrapnel had mostly hit her arm, and the burns seemed to only be in the first degree.
“You’re lucky you exploded all my normal grenades!” said Stevens, but Hone shot at him from behind. Stevens launched a grenade at Abyss, before turning to face Hone. Hone, however, was gone, Volcan instead throwing his oil and lighting it aflame, the inferno separating the two. For a second, the two seemed to be in a standoff, until a sudden collision from torpedoes to the back of the Dark Star caused everyone to lose balance. At this point, gunfire raged all around them and numerous fires and holes plagued the deck. Despite this, nearly everyone either maintained balance or fell to safety, save Volcan. Stevens used his shield to brace himself, as Volcan fell, nearly avoiding his own flames. Stevens raised his gun towards Volcan’s temple, but a sudden gunshot knocked his gun out of his hands. Markman had shot Stevens’ arm, weaving between armor pieces and hitting him in the elbow.
“What the hell?” he said, looking at his wound, “Good shot! Your long range is good, but let’s see what happens when we close the distance!” He put away his gun and charged at Markman. Markman rolled out of the way, but Stevens seemed to have predicted this, hitting Markman before he could get up. Stevens attempted to bring his shield down on Markman, but he kept rolling out of the way, causing Stevens to hit him with the side of his shield again. Infernal attempted to help Markman, but something hit the Dark Star, and she was caught off balance, and fell to the ground. Stevens, after regaining his bearings from the sudden attack, attempted to bash Markman with the spiked edge of his shield, but Markman grabbed it pushing it upwards. Despite the heaviness of the shield and Stevens’ strength, they seemed locked. Then, another explosion rocked the ship, Stevens managing to use the impact to knock Markman on his back using the back of his shield. Stevens brought the spikes down on Markman, sadistically laughing as Infernal screamed.
“Ahaha! One down!” Stevens said, “And someone else seems upset. Don’t worry, you’ll be joining him soon enough!” As the shock in Infernal’s mind faded, it was replaced by pure, unending rage. Infernal charged at Stevens, getting behind him as he attempted to bash her with his shield. Stevens attempted to punch Infernal, but she dodged, allowing Volcan, who had gotten up, to fire. The bullets hit Stevens’ armor, causing him to wince in pain, but he still managed to prevent Infernal from shooting him as well by kicking her. He then planted his shield in the ship’s floor, allowing him to pull out a walkie talkie.
“Captain! Send a division to the deck, now!” said Stevens,
“What, tired of trying to deal with us yourself?” said Infernal,
“You talk a lot for someone about to die, feisty girl. Don’t worry, I’ll fix that!” said Stevens, grabbing his rifle. Infernal grabbed ahold of his arm, preventing him from shooting her. He used his armored foot to kick Infernal, but an explosion knocked him to the ground as Infernal landed beside him, the gun in between. Infernal and Stevens grabbed it, but Stevens overpowered her, using the gun to flip her over, launching her into the shield. Infernal grabbed a hold of the handle as she fell, pulling herself up. Stevens attempted to shoot her from on the ground, but Infernal managed to pull the shield from the ground, swinging it at him. She shield hit him squarely in the head, his helmet cracking against a turret. She didn’t stop, and attempted to crush Stevens beneath the shield, and kill him like he killed Markman. He managed to get out of the way, backing away before reaching the edge of the ship, and using the railing to lift himself up.
“Impressive! Your technique is masterful…” said Stevens, “But you’re still weak all the same!” He grabbed his rifle, wincing, but Infernal had lifted the shield, using it as cover.
“Weak?! Lots of talk from the man about to die!” said Infernal,
“Ahahaha! Like I said, there’s been violence since the beginning of mankind! You act like you're so moral. This is where you belong, feisty girl! The battlefield! Admit it! If you kill me, you’re going to enjoy it! Why have compassion when war is just so human! ” said Stevens, as he moved towards Infernal.
“You’re just sick! Maybe, if everyone was like you, the battlefield would be my home, but unlike you, I believe humans are naturally moral! You are right about one thing though… I will enjoy killing you,” said Infernal. She sloppily swung the shield at him, hitting his hurt arm and causing him to stagger backwards. He pulled his gun out, but Infernal grabbed it, shoving it to the side. She shot him, mostly hitting his armor but one went through his shoulder joint on his bad arm. He attempted to fire at her, but Infernal shot his hand as well, hitting the wrist joint. He dropped the gun in pain, and Infernal kicked it away from him. He grabbed at her, managing to punch her against the railing, as the ship shuddered again. They both grabbed onto the railing, Stevens nearly pushing Infernal overboard. As Stevens attempted to regain his footing, Infernal grabbed the shield again, and swung it at him, breaking the railing, and nearly throwing her off with the momentum. Stevens attempted to kick her, but she timed her strike with the shield, and used the spikes to crush his foot. As he gasped in pain, Infernal swung the shield again, hitting him and causing him to stagger backwards. He grasped at the broken railing but missed, barely grabbing the edge of the ship.
“You… well done, feisty girl,” said Stevens
“Looks like your fight ends here,” said Infernal,
“Hah! Maybe mine does, but with Warner around, your fight’s only just begun,” said Stevens. Infernal wouldn’t hear any more. With a quick kick to his hand, he lost his grip and tumbled off the side of the ship. In his armor, he’d sink like a stone. Then, as she caught her breath, the pain seemed to return all at once. Bruises, burns, and shrapnel cuts made her feel like she was on fire. She managed to walk backwards, the remaining Cosmosis troops either surrendering or moving to defend the ship. They had surrendered their weapons. Hone and Volcan were over Markman, Mina and Abyss were speaking to the man with the rocket launcher. Infernal fell, her eyes seeing Steven’s bloody gun beside her, as an arm helped her up.
“He’s dead, right?” said Volcan, helping Infernal to her feet,
“Yeah,” Infernal managed to make out,
“Good. What he deserves,” said Volcan. Infernal looked down, and grabbed Stevens’ rifle. Cosmosis guns weren’t nearly as sophisticated as the one she currently held, but they still took the same rounds. It was a really good weapon, especially because it could launch grenades, so she held onto it. The b*stard didn’t deserve to keep it. Not after he killed Markman.
“The Armorklad is demanding our surrender. I told the captain to inform them that we do. I'm surprised it was that easy, though I suppose without their commander they’re nothing. Our mission is nearly complete, we may cry afterwards,” said Abyss, though he struggled to finish the last part of the sentence. Infernal though, knew they were safe, and so as the flaming pain engulfed her, she drifted off to sleep.

[PART 2]:
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[Part 1]:
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Blood Moon (Part 2)
November 9th

The riot could see them. Their signs saying, “Arrest Modivel! Lock him up!” Ocreal’s protesters. Thams looked ahead, the police chief called Loy Allus was beside an officer, who nodded, and joined their cires. This was the power of their voice. The power to persuade, the power to fit in. They marched, footsteps echoing on ancient stones, into the historic square. This was the power of their steps. The power to move, to bring change, to make things right. There, they paused.
“Traitors!” Loy said, and gunfire erupted. This was their power. The power to kill. The power to end. To end those who didn’t fit in. Thams fired, and a shot hit his mark. A teenage girl. He didn’t know her. She didn’t know him. And he didn’t care. He didn’t even think to care. He killed again. And again. And he didn’t think anything of it. This was the power of power. The power to forget your morality.

5 O’Clock. The turbines of The Hidden kept humming. The cool wind of the sea kept sweeping across the deck. The computers continued to keep them on course. Yet, despite everything seeming normal, things were very, very wrong. At 1:00, diplomat Joseph White fell ill with some virus. At 2:32, a doctor was reported with the illness. At 2:45, the janitor tasked with cleaning the vomit was diagnosed with the illness as well. Just two minutes later, two soldiers reported they had the illness, and that some great beast had risen from the sea to kill them all. Captain Nate ordered Major James to investigate the issue just a minute later. That was the last they’d heard of the Captain, who’d sealed himself in the wheelhouse. Now, the Major was alone. In the last two hours, thirty-three more cases had been identified. Only one doctor remained, and he was now in a Haz-mat suit. Joseph’s cries could be heard throughout half the ship. He rambled about the beast, and the pain. He had attempted to claw out his own flesh, so the doctors restrained him, ignoring his thrashing. The janitor had felt better, and said he had only vomited out of disgust. They had let him go, but at Four Fifty-Two, he ran off the ship, yelling that he would not be claimed. At this point, the Major thought he should hide, just as Nate had, yet the FIrst Officer had locked any hiders in the brig. At Five O’ Three, Major James arrived and spoke with the Second and Third Officers. The Major reported no signs of any form of beast aboard the ship. The Second Officer responded that the entire crew that was unnecessary should quarantine. The Third Officer said that they should not follow the First Officers’ orders. The Second Officer ordered the Third to accompany Major James in a final search. This was the last time the Third and Second Officers spoke.

“Isi, you know why you’re here, right?” said Igno Blank. Isi Yeh nodded.
“The gunfire,” said Isi. Igno slowly nodded. Beside Igno were several VIC agents and bodyguards. Some, Isi knew. Ulan Vol, for instance., or Veli Sumo, who had toured Isi around on his first day. Glori Quh and Tussel Our were in Isi’s training group. Yules Wrun had teased Isi, mocking his clumsiness. They stood all around the table. Silently waiting.
“I understand you lack some experience, but now… that isn’t what I need. Ulan is going to inform the Vicelord of this. I will inform the King. You will-”
“Didn’t Delta Depot inform us that they would handle this?” said Yules,
“Commander Jalo did. He said he’d gone down to the scene with a division and stopped the violence. A lone gunman, yet still deadly. I, however, am under orders from Hirs to investigate. I will do as I am commanded. You will as well,” said Igno, waiting as Yules slumped down. He continued, “Isi, loyalty is hard to come by, as is wisdom. You lack skill, sure, but that will come in time. I’d like you to be my deputy, and I think leading this investigation is a good start.”
“Thank you Igno sir! I will not fail!” said Isi, gesturing to the men to follow him. They moved out of the room, and down some stairs, all as Ulan debriefed Isi.
“You are to figure out the details of the gunman, the motives, the casualties and injuries. It’s all in this form, shouldn’t be too hard to fill out. Put the number of affected here, put the location there, yadda yadda. It’s bureaucratic but it needs to be done,” said Ulan, handing Isi a clipboard. Ulan left, turning towards the staircase to the King’s office. Isi moved with purpose, determined not to let this first chance at command be wasted. They reached the main entrance fast, the large red blinds blocking the ornate windows. Glori was the first to reach them, pulling them aside before gasping.
“Isi… you should see this,” said Glori. The first notable thing was the military division was just.. waiting, in rank and file, as Commander Jalo stood behind a police officer. The second revealed itself as they opened the curtains. Most, if not the entirety of the protesters were dead. First, there was silence, shock, but then the chaotic cacophony began.
“A lone gunman couldn’t have done all that,” said Glori,
“Maybe there was more than one gunman,” said Tussel,
“Commander Jalo reported only one,” said Yules.
“Quit!” said Isi, the burden of leadership weighing him down. It was clear to him that he didn’t know what to do, and rather than follow through with a stupid course of action, he elected to hand over his power. “Veli, you’re the senior officer among us. What’s your course of action,” said Isi,
“You’re in charge, I-” started Veli, before being interrupted by a knock on the door.
“You know, why are you in charge? You suck at everything you do,” said Yules, getting in between the two.
“Quiet. We need to form a plan of action,” said Isi as the door knocked again, “Veli, what do-”
“We should open it,” said Glori,
“But-” Isi protested, but Glori had already moved to open the door.
“Soldiers, I’d like to speak with the Commander-” started Glori, when the officer approached them.
“I am Loy Allus. I’ve come to inform you that Stepahnie Rock is a traitor-”
“Traitor!” the soldiers interrupted,
“Join us, or-” continued Allus
“What are you talking about?! What evidence do you have?” said Glori,
“She collaborated with a federate! Turn her, and the rest of the corrupt government over!” said Allus,
“You aren’t the Chief of Voidville, so you have no jurisdiction here. And you can’t just arrest the entire government over one accusation. If you need to arrest the-'' started Glori
“I see. Just as I said. They can’t be reasoned with!” said Allus. He reached out, his gun flying to his hand as he shot Glori twice, his body. Tussel drew his gun, but being closest to the door he was the first targeted by the division, leaving him dead on the floor..
“Fall back!” said Isi, shooting coverfire as Veli and Yules made it past the window. Panic surged through Isi as he struggled, running to make it through the halls and into the cafeteria. Veli was muttering something, informing someone. An alarm began to blare throughout the intercoms. The sounds barely registered to Isi. All he could think about was survival.
“I can’t die! I haven’t had the chance to live- I haven’t fallen in love, I-” started Yules,
“That’s why we won’t die,” said Isi, and he latched onto his words. He wouldn’t die.

Thams watched the soldiers file into rank outside of the Imperial Quarters. In the silence, the rage almost wore off. Thams looked at the strewn bodies and asked why he’d done it.
They’re traitors, a voice inside him responded, and Thams latched onto it. They were traitors, no need to give them mercy. The thought allowed him to have peace, to feel the cool air and to gaze at the setting sun. For a second, the blinding light gave Thams solace.
A sudden jolt brought him back to reality. The serenity of the sunset was lost, and instead Loy’s words filled him.
“-Stephanie Rock is a traitor.”
With renewed fervor, the crowd responded back.
“Traitor!”
At that moment, the power surged once again. Their voice called again. Thams moved away from the sunset, back to the crowd. Their power echoed in him again. He was one with them. Gunfire filled his ears, and they flooded in, chanting and screaming. He went left, following several of his fellow rioters into the cafeteria. They were power. Power indiscriminate. Entering the cafeteria, they opened fire. They were traitors, all of them! It didn’t matter if they worked for a ministry, for the VIC, or were just janitorial staff, he fired at them all, and kept firing, without thinking. They were filthy traitors, deserving of no mercy, and they would die. This was the power they felt, and the power they would wield.

The cafeteria was a bloodbath. Isi, Veli, and Yules had positioned themselves behind the counter, firing at the oncoming horde of rioters. It was dinnertime, the busiest time for the cafeteria, the time when the hot sun began to set and Voidstanians ate their food. Now, the workers who’d just wanted a meal fled from a battlefield, while VIC agents and bodyguards previously enjoying a break fired back at the onslaught. Already, bloodied bodies peppered the floor, of ministry workers and other staff trying to leave. The kind old cook, an elderly woman named Ely was on the ground, a crumpled body in her hands. Already, the riot was advancing towards her.
“We have to help her. She’s one of the last civilians still in here,” said Isi. Yules and Veli nodded, advancing towards her. Veli covered them, while Yules and Isi grabbed at her. She was sobbing, crying at the other, now dead elderly woman.
“Kirah, no. Please Kirah don’t be-” she cried at the body.
“Ely, we need to get you out of here,” said Isi, pulling Ely to her feet.
“No! I’m not leaving her! Kirah please,” said Ely, pulling at Kirah’s body.
“She’s gone. We’ll all be too if you don’t get up,” said Yules, ignoring the glares from Isi and Veli. A grenade detonated behind them, some of the VIC agents getting hit by the shrapnel, their bodies collapsing onto the tile flooring. Seeing this, the rioters began to advance.
“We’re out of time!” said Veli, grabbing Ely by the arm and yanking her to her feet. As soon as this happened, though, a bullet pierced Ely’s skull sending her to the ground, blood pooling around her. Veli drew and shot back, bullets hitting the rioters but even more being fired back. With superior firepower and numbers, the VIC had been all but pushed from the room, bodyguards and agents struggling to get out of the room via the backdoor without being shot. Yules ran for the exit, a desperate move for survival. Isi moved as well, gunfire surrounding him. It all stopped, however, as Veli fired back at them, signaling for the rest of the loyalists to flee. He peaked around the corner of a column, providing cover as Isi and several others fled, but as he turned, two bullets hit his back, and Veli hit the ground with a thud.

Stephanie had grown worried. Between the gunfire outside, and the lack of her mother arriving with Page made that worry grow. It wasn’t of any matter though, she needed to focus. The protesters outside were right, surely, and even if they weren’t she needed to win their support. Nobody would like what she would do for Aner, but it didn’t matter. She needed to finish her letter to the House of Law, to tell them that-
There was a knock at the door. Helda Su, Stephanie’s planner, didn’t inform her of anyone so she assumed that-
“Vicelord Rock, I deemed it important to inform you of the shooting at the Square. Julo said his men were on it,” said Ulan, entering.
“I heard the gunshots. I assumed as m-” started Stephanie, as a sudden alarm began to blare. Ulan’s face fell. over the sound of the alarm, faint gunfire could be heard. Ulan silently pressed the button on his walkie talkie, and for a second, the two just listened in disbelief.
“This is bodyguard squad three, we’re overwhelmed on the first floor, requesting backup,”
“This is Ty Uremey of the VIC’s Fall Force, we’re converging on a group in the housing wing, there’s a lot of them,”
“This is BG squad 5, what’s happening down there?!”
“This is BG squad two, the cafeteria has been overrun, I repeat overrun, we’ve evacuated,”
“This is Igno Blank, I’ll handle the extraction of the King from the building, I repeat, I will evacuate the King,”
“This is bodyguard squad three. There’s too many of them! We can only defend the stairwell up for so long,”
“This is BG squad seven, we’ve stationed ourselves at the stairwell, BG squad three, could you lead them up?”
“Negative! We cannot make a full retreat!”
“This is Intelligence Marshal Sim, I’ve got word that the Voidville police are being dispatched to Stania Square to put down the riot,”
“This is BG squad seven, BG squad three do you copy?”
“This is Smok from VIC’s Noon Force, have we contacted Jalo regarding his men being here?!”
They only stopped to think when they heard the explosion, and Ulan put away the walkie talkie.
“A riot…” he said,
“No. Not a riot. A coup,” said Stephanie. The acknowledgement of the truth hurt them both, but it allowed them to have clarity. Stephanie looked down at Void’s wooden desk, his spinning chair, the papers strewn across the floor and jammed in drawers. The portraits of long dead monarchs, the large bulletproof windows, obscured by red curtains. Stephanie stood, and looked out the window, the Imperial Park’s trees obscuring the sunset.
“Vicelord Rock, we need to move,” said Ulan, turning on the walkie talkie again.
“This is BG squad two, they’ve reached the Ministry Wing’s third floor.” Ulan switched it off again, and grimaced. Granted, they were on the other side of the building as the stairwell, but they were on floor three. So was Void. Ulan motioned for her to leave, and they entered the hallway, the familiar white plaster walls and the winding corridors seeming almost daunting as the alarm blared.
“We’ll move towards the helicopter on the roof. If that fails, we’ll move towards the Informational Institute,” said Ulan, as they navigated the halls. At this point, several bodyguards stationed near Stephanie had converged on them, and the escort moved quickly up the stairs, hearing as rioters converged on the area they were just at.

A small grenade must’ve gone off downstairs. One of the rioters, no doubt, a VIC agent wouldn’t be so careless. One grenade could set the building to crumble. Igno could hear the cries and the gunfire. It sounded like hell down there, and there was likely fighting on his floor too. He focused, climbed up the stairs, and rushed down the hallway, but stopped as he reached Void’s office. The door was open, the Vicelogrd likely having been rushed out towards the helicopter, heading down towards where Igno stood. She was lucky she went this way, as a section of rioters seemed to have reached the doorway. Igno recognized one, Chief Loy Allus, and an entire entourage of military personnel. They were cornered in the office, bodyguards seemingly having them trapped.
“Mr. Blank! We’ve got them covered, get the King!” said the bodyguard in charge, a bearded man who Blank recognized as Tomu Inn, before firing at the door again. Igno nodded and moved past them, and towards Void’s room.

The plans for the Imperial Quarters were fairly basic. In the middle, a large stone building home to the cafeteria, and 5 floors of offices of higher levels. The king’s office was on floor three, and on floor two were several ministers’ offices, such as the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Minister of the Budget. On the left side, the southern portion, was the Ministry section. Four floors of ministry offices, and the homes of most ministers. It was also the only modern building. Most of these floors had basic civillains. Finally, the right side, the northern section, had housing, many ministers and the King lived in this section, and it only had four floors, but the top had a helicopter. This was what all rookies were taught. It’s how Isi knew he was in the ministry section, as the new walls and carpet signaled the modernity only it had. The offices too were dead giveaways, rows of desks put together like those in a schoolhouse and circular tables with numerous couches and chairs for ministry work and collaboration. The stairwell to the third floor from it was close, so hopefully Isi and Yules could make their way out from the entrance.
“Hey kid!” said a voice from ahead, as three VIC agents entered.
“Kiddo, the name’s Explo, that’s Assault and Smoke,” said Explo.
“Noon force!?” Yules said, and the excitement almost made Isi forget they might die.
“What’s left of it… Look, we’ve got to stop a spearhead from getting to the Info Institute, we’re worried they’ll-” started Explo,
“Behind us!” said Assault, throwing a table and using it as cover. Smoke threw a smoke bomb obscuring the entrance Noon Force had entered from, as they all scurried for cover. Isi drew his gun, as rioters exited from the smoke and were gunned down. As the smoke faded, Isi noticed these were unlike the troops in the cafeteria, and were rather civilians armed with assault rifles. As they struggled to get through the door, one of them threw something made of glass, the carpet seeming to catch flame.
“They’ve got molotov cocktails!?!” asked Assault, moving back from the flames. Smoke threw a smoke grenade, while she moved, positioning herself in the doorway Isi had come in from. The fire had spread, and the rioters were moving past it, using the smoke to cover them.
“Fall back to the main building! Stone doesn't catch flame, we’ll be safe,” said Explo, before moving back through the door. Yules, using the fire to obscure himself, crawled to the door, while Smoke provided Isi with coverfire. Smoke moved last, but despite some of the rioters having been blocked by the flames, several made it through, and now fired at Smoke, pinning him in the fire. One of the rioters yelled and charged at Smoke, managing to dodge Assault’s fire and getting into a fistfight with Smoke.
“For Stania!” the rioter yelled, grabbing ahold of Smoke and pulling him into the fire, both their flesh being scorched.
“I should’ve hit him… I could’ve saved him,” said Assault, Explo pulling her through the door as they attempted to navigate the winding halls.
“Now’s not the time! And I’m focused on not dying, so don’t mention death again!” said Yules, as they moved towards the front, finally entering a narrow hall with some windows.
“Look at that…” said Explo, as Isi moved to see. Stania Square was nothing short of a battlefield, the setting sun illuminating the battle between armed forces and police officers. It was chaos, and even from the window they could tell nobody knew whose side anyone was on. Officers in riot gear fired at the military’s armored cars, as rioters overran police cars. The Intelligence Institute and the House of Law were both caught in the crossfire, seemingly being barricaded as the Quarters were invaded. The rooftop of the House of Law seemingly broke out in a fight, a strange yellow gas emanating from the rooftop, and the glare of a sniper… pointing at him.
“Sniper!” Isi cried, but watched as Assault’s brains scattered across the hall behind them. The hallway was filled with windows, each illuminating the red sky and posing a looming threat.
“Get down on the ground, rookies! We’ve gotta get out of here!” said Explo,
“Ow! Watch for broken glass,” said Yules, army crawling towards the other side of the hallway. Isi too got to the ground, narrowly avoiding another sniper shot. The three narrowly avoided sniper fire, until the last window, where Isi felt a sudden fire in his arm. One of the sniper shots had hit him, piercing his left arm just above the elbow.
“Sh*t, kid! You okay?” said Explo, grabbing Isi and lifting him up.
“Explo, let's go!” said Yules, referencing the rioters that had reached the other side of the hall. Explo got Isi through the door, before firing back at the rioters.
“Agh! Sh*t! There’s too many of ‘em! They just keep coming!” said Explo. He moved forward, as they attempted to position themselves in a way that would defend against the incoming onslaught. The hallway they had found themselves in had no windows, nor was it the modern sleek design of the Ministry building. Rather, it was a simple stone hallway with a small nook for a water fountain and a hallway to the left that turned right shortly after. Yules moved, presumably to run, but the door opened and he hid beside the water fountain, the riot opening fire, and Explo returning fire. The riot advanced, their fire causing all three to be forced to take cover, their rain of bullets neverending. When the riot reached them, all Isi could see was gunfire, as Explo ran ahead, knocking one to the ground and firing at two more. He rolled, sweeping another two off their feet, as the one he’d knocked to the ground began to try to stir. Explo shot at the crowd again, and finished three, Yules firing at the remaining ones. Another rioter dropped. Explo charged ahead, only three remaining, and… his gun clicked, the magazine empty. He dropped the gun and grabbed one of the rioters, using him as a shield to block the other two’s bullets. Yules fired too, as Explo grabbed the gun off his meat shield and fired into one of the final rioter’s bodies, the other getting shot shortly thereafter. Then the shot. Isi had tried, but his gun jammed, and the rioter was able to get himself up, shooting Yules. And then again. And again. For a second, there was remorse. For a second, there was sorrow. Realization in the eyes of his foe. Then another group entered through the other side of the windowed hall, and their cries for Modivel snatched humanity from his eyes. They fired at Explo, who simply threw a hand grenade, the explosion collapsing part of the Ministry building, and taking Explo down with it. From the otherside, fire seemed to rage. In Isi’s heart, fire seemed to rage. It was just him and the rioter. Isi ran at him, unable to use his own jammed gun, and grabbed his enemy. Snatching the gun from him, he fired into his stomach, the rioter collapsing. It was then that Isi noticed the fire in his heart hadn’t stopped, and the pain overwhelmed him. Isi collapsed, hearing the alarm and the gunfire, the inferno and the screams, the pooling blood and the pained breaths. He looked the rioter in the eye. The rioter looked back. In the eye’s obsidian gaze, Isi saw sorrow. He saw regret. He saw humanity. But it didn’t matter, not to Isi. Because his eyes were always human. And as for the regret, it was too late for that.

Their voice was power. And Thams heard nothing but it. Cries for the death of the King, for the death of the Vicelord, for the death of everyone in their way. The words cut through the noise, the sound of gunfire and bodies hitting the floor not even registering. In the riot, Thams had unity, belonging, power. It allowed him to move through the halls, past the blood and the bodies and the broken glass, and to fire their guns without remorse. Then the cries grew fewer. People died. Still, the riot yelled to itself. Together they were power. Smoke filled his lungs, adrenaline filled his body. They were making change, bringing about a new age, because they were power! So he rushed ahead, and was thrown to the ground. The cries grew fewer and fewer. Two voices. One voice. Silence. Only himself. He lifted himself, and made eye contact with his foe. He whispered to himself, muttering the cries. That Stephanie was a traitor. That they were power. Alone, however, it wasn’t as powerful, and there was only fear. He looked at his foe, and saw fear too. He couldn’t turn in time, and Thams fired. And then again. And again. The body hit the floor, blood already beginning to pool around him. He heard a noise and turned, catching the glare of a young bodyguard. He was wounded, crying. He saw right into Thams, saw his remorse, and thought nothing. And in that second, Thams thought he was right, right to be angry and not forgive.
And then the voices started again.
It was far away at first. But then the gunfire, and the screams started again.
“Traitors!”
“Weaklings!”
“Hear our power! Die! Kill the Brezzian dogs and all who stand with them!”
“Kill the foreign dogs and all who stand with them!”
In an instant, Thams remembered what he fought for. He remembered the rage he held. He remembered the suffering he endured in the Free State. All remorse was gone now, consumed by rage. The bodyguard had the same rage in his eyes. As an explosion rang throughout the hall, the bodyguard charged, and Thams fired, the bullet hitting his mark but the bodyguard not stopping, simply continuing onwards, grabbing Thams gun, firing into Thams chest, before collapsing himself. They both hit the floor. Thams heard the gunfire, the inferno, the baring alarm and the screams, the screams that were his power. The crowd that was his power. But the power was gone now. Insteads, he could truly think. He looked at the bodyguard, and saw his rage, and regretted the way things had gone. He was young, hopeful, compassionate. Perhaps he shouldn’t have rioted, shouldn't've fired and killed and acted on his impulses. He tried to apologize, but no words escaped his battered body. It wouldn’t’ve mattered anyway, the bodyguard understood. And he didn’t forgive. Thams’ regret came too late, they both knew that. And as for Modivel, perhaps he was truly the traitor. He was the one who led to this unjust death with no chance for them to change. It didn’t matter what he thought now. He just waited, and watched the world fade. It was too late for regrets.

The sword swung downwards, and the head rolled again. Then, the crowd erupted, and the police fired, and screams echoed. Semius looked downward at the head, the blood spewing. It was just like the last time. And the last. The head looked at him, and spoke in echoes.
Our people are not ours. They riot. They rage. And it’s because of this. You are a weak King, even before you swung your blade. Could you have beaten Warner in Nunenburg? We will never know, because you never tried. Did you think the execution was the only reason you’re a failure? Foolish. It’s because you didn’t do anything! You ignored blatant traitors that you knew were threats! You killed me, but couldn’t kill Warner! If you’re meant to be King, then stand for your people! Our people!”.
The head shook with violent fervor, but then faded, decaying into but a skull. The gunfire and screams got louder. An ambulance had arrived, its alarm blaring as the dead were lifted. The skull seemed to speak again, grinning and dark in the basket.
”Useless king. Weak king. The King that cannot stand for anything. You stand in Voidstania’s way. You killed it. Nothing else. Admit it. It’s you who doomed Voidstania! Only you! Don’t bother! Do as your people tell you to and die!”.
The skull cackled a shrill, manic laugh, before it began to melt. The teeth fell from the jaw, and the eye sockets drooped. From the eyehole, a skeletal snake emerged and wrapped itself around the skull, hissing. With a boom, the ground beneath Void broke, the stage crumbling and launching Void into the abyss. There was another boom, and the splintering of wood, and Void was dragged back into the waking world.

Semius wanted to vomit, but there wasn’t time. The emergency alarm was blaring, and there was gunfire everywhere. Igno had broken down the door, and immediately moved to help Void up. Void declined, but sudden gunfire erupted from just down the hall.
“Wait here, My King. I will handle this,” said the bodyguard, moving down the hall. Void managed to follow, but stopped before the gunfire reached him. The hallway was blocked, Tomu and what was left of bodyguard squad six firing at a horde of oncoming rioters, dressed in military garb and shooting assault rifles. It was clear to Void what this was. A coup. The side seemed entirely filled with military camouflage, save the brown suit of a high ranking police officer.
“Sh*t! The defense at the stairwell must’ve collapsed, there’s too many!” said Tomu,
“Then we’ll use the housing stairwell, move back!” replied Igno, firing back into the crowd as the entire line retreated. The rioters used the doors and decor to provide defense but there wasn’t nearly enough for every soldier, leading to around 5 to charge the retreating line. One soldier bashed a bodyguard against the wall, but Igno shot him, and used his body to knock into another, knocking him to the floor where a bodyguard finished him off. Tomu shot another charger to the ground, before the rest of the bodyguards killed the rest. The bodyguard made a full line, eclipsing the entire hallway in cover fire as they moved backwards, pinning the rioters down. They had reached Void’s bedroom, and began to spread out as the hallway reached the corner. Void hid inside his own room, grabbing his revolver from his nightstand and the Blood Blade from beneath his bed. Already, the movement made him feel weak, the lack of food and deterioration of his muscles being evident. Despite this, he made his way to the door and fired with the bodyguards. The horde seemed to thin, but there were still so many, and the losses the bodyguards seemed far more impactful. The bodyguard rounded the corner, using it as defense.
“Charge at them! Kill the traitors!” Chief Allus said, leading to the soldiers charging at the bodyguard’s line. They took casualties reaching the bodyguards, but they rounded the corner and gunfire erupted as both bodyguards and soldiers took heavy casualties. Igno, shoving Semius aside, used the chaos to avoid being shot, moving and shooting at the bodyguards, killing at least five before being forced to reload. There were only around three soldiers left, but still a massive horde of rioters stood in their way, armed with assault rifles and pistols. Their fire was sloppy, letting Igno advance. He lifted a fallen soldier from the ground, using the military armor to allow his advance, throwing the human shield down upon another one of the soldiers, allowing Igno to kill several rioters before they could turn. The two soldiers not dealing with a dead body noticed and attempted to advance but Igno moved too quickly, reaching one before either could fire, and when they did, Igno shoved the soldier into his allies’ fire, before swiftly shooting the other soldier dead. Running low on ammunition again, Igno bashed a rioter and grabbed his gun, firing into his skull before turning to another rioter and finishing him off as well. The rioters had begun to reorganize, and the last soldier had recovered, forming a full line across the hall like the one the bodyguard had made. Igno moved back to protect the King, who had moved by Tomu and was nearly at the stairwell in the housing sector, the stairs lit by gunfire and activity.
“Traitors! The stairs are nearly ours! Lower your weapons, surrender the King, and perhaps you will be spared!” said the Chief, as the bodyguard managed to back the King and several of their own into the stairwell.
“We will remain loyal,” said Igno, firing back at Loy Allus, as the bodyguard let out cries of agreement.
“Fine then! Die!” said Chief Allus, “Charge at them! Take the stairs!”
“Igno! The King is weak!” said Tomu, prompting Igno to rush past and enter the stairwell. The stairs were spiraling, compact, and full of fire from both sides as loyalists (namely from Fall force) rushed to defend against the onslaught, bodies from both sides littering the stairs and doorways and landing pads were being used as cover.
“Noon Force, defend the king!” said Ty Uremey, “Not one passes!” Noon Force circled the king, as Noon Force’s Heavy and Bonebreak rushed forward, stopping the horde from reaching the third floor doorway. Tomu escorted the bodyguard out of the doorway, but was pushed back and shot in the arm, reeling and moving back, allowing Loy and his horde to join the one on the stairwell. Semius felt weak, and barely able to move, almost falling down the stairs before Uremey grabbed him and lifted him up. Bonebreak and Heavy were dead, surrounded by the fire of the riot, and Loy yelled instructions for his men to rush the weakened bodyguard. They approached the fourth floor, and Igno rushed ahead, instructing several men to grab a decorative table and throw it down the stairs, hitting the riot like dominoes and allowing the bodyguard to get an upper hand. Void saw none of this, only just managing to focus on the steps ahead of him as his vision blurred. The sounds of the gunfire and the blaring alarms meshed together, and the King fainted, greeted by the coil of the bone-snake.

Igno watched as the King fainted, grabbing his revolver and his sword before they clatter on the floor.
“I’ll take the King! Deal with the riot!” said Uremey, lifting the King onto his back and rushing up the stairs. Igno used both his and the King’s handguns, firing rounds at the oncoming rioters, the sword resting on his hip. With the attack after the table had been thrown down, the group had thinned, and was getting thinner, the bodyguards managing to whittle down the horde. The doorway to the helipad too was closeby, the King already having been exited through it. Ingo finally made it through, hearing the helicopter whirl with activity and slowly begin to lift itself from the ground and into the night sky, the moon already half eclipsed by the earth.
“F*ck they’re nearly out! Kill the traitorous pigs! Now!” said Chief Allus, callously charging with his men at Ingo, Igno dodged one, shooting him down, and rolled in between two, shooting each with one gun. Out of ammo now, he drew the Blood Blade, and counted four remaining soldiers and Allus. Ingo threw the blade, it spinning in the air before hitting the head of one of the rioters, before Ingo grabbed another. He pushed the rioter into Allus’ fire, before rolling and retrieving his blade, as the remaining two reloaded. He charged at them, cutting one down before impaling the other, as Allus fired at him, one aiming at Igno’s head. It nearly connected, but Igno raised his sword, the bullet lodging itself in the intricate hilt. Loy attempted to shoot again but failed, his pistol being out of ammo. Igno rushed Loy, who grabbed his arm holding the Blood Blade, however Igno dropped the blade, catching it with his other hand and swinging it into Loy, cutting him in half. The Chief’s body collapsed, and Ingo walked to the helicopter, finding not only his escort but also Ulan Vol and the Vicelord. The helicopter raised itself into the air, the gunfire and alarms and screams obscured by the roar off the copter’s wings as it ascended, letting all inside to view the carnage below. Stania Square was a violent mess. The Ministry wing was half collapsed and on fire. The House of Law had the flag of the National Frontier instead of the Voidstanian one. They watched in silence, as Ingo moved and sat to pilot the helicopter. The forests of Snake Island would protect them. Hopefully, they’d make it there.

Ronig Hirs watched from above. He looked down from the institute, at the scene below. The half collapsed and burning Ministry Wing. The surrendered House of Law. The Square, currently alight with gunfire, police in riot armor being gunned down as armored cars began to fire down upon them. The battle in the square was gruesome, but it seemed to be ending, the police surrounded and overrun, many having betrayed their nation. The battle inside the Imperial Quarters too seemed to be ending, with only the Housing Wing being fought over, and even then floors one and two were lost. Ronig knew that Void and Rock had been able to escape, however news of the other ministers remained scarce. Ronig had tried to keep the news from spreading, effectively cutting Voidville off the radar, however news had broken, and other cities- Voidsmith, Voidhearth, Staniaville, Rucktania -had all broken into what Ronig could only describe as revolution. The Advisory Committee had been evacuated, as had the ministers not in the Imperial Quarters, and they were on their way to Snake Island to re-establish the government. The Senate should also be evacuating to the island, as would he, shortly. He just had to finish. Uli had already started it, the uploading of every piece of dirt they’d gathered. Brezzian, UF, and Toukian political secrets. Brezzian ciphers. Every secret collected on Brezzia, the Federation, and the VNF would go public. So would the record of modern Voidstanian military tactics, the same ones that the generals under Modivel would be likely to use. The rest of the info, information too destructive to share, would be detonated, as would most of the inner institute.
“Sir, are you ready to leave,” said Uli,
“Yes. You may trigger the timer for detonation,” said Ronig.

Rumors had spread throughout the Senate floors. Rumors of an attack against the Imperial Quarters, against Voidstania by Modivel's supporters. They brushed it aside, moved past it, and continued the debate.
“We cannot interfere with the politics of the King! This is a matter for the ministries to decide, not us,” said Senator Goldwood,
“Yet we cannot stay idly by while fascists take over the government!” said Jameson,
“You’d know something about fascism, wouldn’t you!” said McGuffy,
“I’m aware that what Modivel and what Warner said are far too similar. And I will admit that I did work with Warner and his fascists once. I won’t run from my past, unlike you, who runs from your affair!”
“Silence! We must pass this law before Modivel strikes! I am no longer confident in the abilities of the Authoritarians to suppress Modivel. To prove this to you all, I hereby bring Minister Listina to the floor. Ocreal, my friend, welcome,” said Prime Senator Wright. Ocreal exited the viewing stands, and passed through the main vomitorium, into the curved, amphitheater-like senate floor, and began to speak.
“Thank you, Prime Senator. I am a minister, tasked with representing the will of the Senate to the King. Today, however, I do the opposite. I stand here on behalf of the King, to call for the passing of this bill and the arrest of Modivel. Jameson has already called him what he is, a fascist, and he will stay in government until somebody does something about it! The Vicelord has already expressed her true feelings, that she’d arrest Modivel if she felt it wouldn’t cause the Royal Government to be overthrown! Well, we aren’t the royals! We act separate, that is why we exist! To show the will of the people, not to some dogmatic dictatorial fascist Minister! The royal government cannot act, but we can! Not by squabbling about the past, but by focusing on the present! Who stands to gain if Modivel comes to power! None of us! We’ve come to the point where rumors that the Imperial Quarters burns can be taken as fact! I don’t want to live in a day where that does come true, because we in the Senate, the firmest opposition to authoritarianism, will be the first to go! So I beg for us to stand. Thank you,” said Ocreal, bowing before the Prime Senator before turning to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several Senate Guards respond to a radio call before moving from their posts, with purpose.
“Excuse me, everyone, but I have orders from the VIC that this session must end. I request all of you follow me,” said the Chief of the Senate Guard.
“So the rumors are true!” said Juni Page, “And my husband? What of him!”
“We don’t know what’s happened at the Imperial Quarters, but there has been news of a riot…” said the Chief,
“Hmmph! See, just a riot! Nothing to worry about!” said McGuffy, rising.
“If you could excuse me, I have orders for you all to leave, if you’d-” started the Chief.
“With all due respect, the King cannot order when we end our sessions. We must vote,” said Wright. as Ocreal noticed the Senate Guards continuing to leave their posts, heading towards the front of the building. The Senate was flooded with arguments, people yelling left and right. Then there was the gunfire. At once, all 50 senators rose from their seats and moved, following police to the back of the building. Ocreal approached Jose, who was also being approached by Jameson.
“I’m not going with the VIC. I’m going to Nunenburg. Modivel is a fascist, or at least a sympathizer, and there’s no doubt he’ll try to get the best tactician in the nation back. I’m going to stop Warner, and make up for what I’ve done,” said Jameson, moving back into the crowd. Ocreal was then shoved aside, but attempted to reach for Jose. She was knocked to the ground, the gunfire beginning to surround her. She attempted to rise, but the air had been contaminated, a strange yellowish gas filling the chamber, and she began to choke. The rest of the battle was a haze, but she felt someone grab her, and take her.

“You’ve done well, my voice through you is heard. You are truly one with me. My representation! My voice! The weapons you’ve secured are unlike any Voidstania has ever seen!” said the voice of Raven Mask, the Supreme, on a large television screen.
“I have followed orders sir. That is only to be expected,” replied the Grand Superintend. He was in an abandoned warehouse, untracked and hidden from even the rest of the Watchers. There was, however, one nation with eyes in the meeting.
“These weapons, and soldiers… They are the weapons of The Watchers. The Eleutheryan people have been most kind. Their greatest gift to us, however, lies not in our ability to crush the gangs, but in our newfound power in the homeland. The microscopic cameras they use, to ensure our own loyalty of course, are most impressive. Take them to our scientists. Make more. I want these to scour each and every one of the Watchers for treachery. Bit by bit we become one. Not a militia, but a collective. With my funding, and Eleutheryan tech, we may finally-” said the Supreme, the video cutting off. The Colonel General Superintend entered not a moment later, breathless and tired.
“Grand Superintend, the gangs have begun a counterassault on the city. So far, the western districts two and four have already fallen, and three no doubt will soon. What orders should I obey, sir,” said the Colonel General.
The Grand Superintend waited, and looked to the small insectoid drone, before saying, “It appears the connection with the Supreme has been severed. Therefore in his stead I act. Begin using the new weaponry, and deploy the Eleutheryan volunteers. We will restore order to this city, over their bodies or not.”

It had been hours. Hornius should’ve gotten back to the quarters hours ago. When the moon wasn’t high in the sky, eclipsed by the earth, shining bloodred light down. The officer too had left, when the gunfire started. Still, aside from Staliss and Aner whispering to each other. Finally, the silence broke.
“Drive,” said Aner, the Red-Suit driving only managing a mutter.
“But the officer-”
“Drive,” said Aner. They moved forward, finally arriving at the square. The Imperial Quarters was ablaze, specifically the Ministry Wing, though even the Voidstanian flag atop it had caught fire. The newer buildings, such as the House of Law or the Advisory Court were ablaze as well, and the square was a wreck of ruined cars and… bodies. There was still a bit of fighting, with a few members clad in military uniform and some police officers firing at another, smaller group, seemingly consisting of police officers as well. Aner exited slowly, her heels making it difficult for her to navigate through the old stone street. Staliss and several Red Suits exited behind her.
“What happened here…” said Aner as she exited, fanning herself with her ornate fan, her dress flowing in the wind.
“Wow. He actually managed to do it,” said Staliss, drawing his gun. He put the gun to Aner’s back, the sounds of distant gunfire and flames masking the sound of the gun’s safety turning off.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you,” said Aner, as she stopped fanning herself. “You know, we’re quite similar, businessmen and gang leaders. Always ambitious, searching to consume their competition. A constant battle of survival of the fittest. No mercy, just victory. Success.” She paused for a moment, putting her fan in her purse. “What separates you and I, however, is class. You emulate the very essence of post Iya Nunenburg. You attempt to make deals with devils to slowly chip away at the control of the market from your opponents, all to gain more wealth. The issue, however, is you only fall further into the devil’s control. You’re reckless, foolish, idiotic. I am calculating and cultured. I know of the minds of simpletons, and I knew just by this scene that Warner has indeed won. I always knew he’d cut the Federation out of the picture. The foreigners are all the same to him. I just didn’t expect him to win so soon. It’s impressive, really,” said the Jener matriarch.
“Enough of this! What Warner has promised me is beyond anything you could offer. You know I’m loyal only to the highest bidder. Wrap up your speech so you can die,” said Staliss,
“Indeed, I know where your loyalties lie. Survival of the fittest. And yet, you’re so idiotic. Simpleton see power, simpleton grab power. Moronic. What do you think Warner has planned for you? Subservience, until he no longer sees you as useful. Then, you’re just a Nunenburgian who knows too much. No different from a Federate. What separates you and the old Nunenburgians and the Federates, and me, is planning. I intend to gain wealth, preserve wealth, and pass my wealth along. You see the nearest opportunity to grab your wealth and power, and you grab it. You enslave people and force them to do your bidding. I brainwash them and let them come to me out of their own choice. So kill me, I implore you,” said Aner. Staliss, appearing unphased, pulled the trigger. The sound of clicking grew frantic, Staliss attempting to finish the job, yet nothing exited the barrel.
“You actually tried to kill me. Ha! Ahaha! Foolish. More foolish than I thought. As it turns out, you can pay a member of your Red Suits to give you blanks. It wasn’t even that expensive. And now, to finish things off,” said Aner, taking off her necklace and bracelets, throwing the jewlery at the remaining Red Suits.
“There’s more where that came from, you know. Just follow me instead of him. I know I’m not the kindest employer but neither is Warner, or that buffoon.” she said as she grabbed Staliss’ gun from his hands. She shoved him to the ground, and put the sharpened heel of her high-heels on his neck. Staliss froze, but a scream stopped them.
“It’s the Federate! From the video!” said the distant voice. The larger group of belligerents sent some soldiers, who didn’t seem to be in the mood for asking questions. Aner stepped off of Staliss and moved backward, and Hornius knew he’d be next after her. If Warner had truly won then…
A boom interrupted his line of thought. Hornius expected to see Aner with a new bullet wound, or perhaps a Red Suit’s suit getting redder, yet no one seemed harmed. There was another boom, one far louder and closer, that of something exploding. The explosions picked up in frequency, one occurring after another. Looking towards the direction of them, Hornius noticed smoke rising from the back of the Informational Institute. Looking closer, he corrected his mistake. Dust. A final, bigger explosion blew through the front of the Institute, the windows breaking as rubble shot through, only the husk of the building remaining. Only the outer walls stood, and even then they slowly wobbled through the wind, threatening collapse. The soldiers were knocked off their feet, and so was Jener, and the Red Suits grabbed onto the outside of the Limousine. For a moment, they obscured Hornius’ vision of the chaos outside. Hornius sat in the dark, attempting to make out the situation outside for what felt to him like an eternity.
“Get in!” said Aner suddenly, as the driver’s door opened. Jenner, after throwing a Red Suit into the driver seat, entered into the passenger’s seat and once all Red Suits were in the vehicle, the limo began to speed down the streets of Voidville. Hornius stayed silent all the while, still in shock that he was alive. Behind them, the sounds of sirens blared as several police cars seemed to be trailing them. Both the Red Suits and the police began to fire at one another, breaking the back window of the limousine.
“What do we do with this one?” said one of the Red Suits, pointing to Hornius.
“We’ll ransom him back, simple. I’ll make back some of my costs that way,” said Aner, “But first, we must live. Stop asking questions and keep firing!” At this command, the Red Suit driving sped up, swerving and attempting to shake the pursuers.
“Hit the tires, b*stards!” said Hornius, suddenly speaking.
“He’s a general, and as dead as us if we’re caught. Do as he says,” said Aner. The red suits aimed downwards, hitting one of the cop cars. It lost momentum and pulled over, out of the chase.
“Ahahaha! One down!” said Aner.
“Those aren’t real cops, they’d have us by now…” said Hornius, watching as the cop car sped up, becoming parallel with them. The Red Suit driving swerved as the cops tried to ram them,
“Traitors!” the cops screamed, attempting to ram the car again,
“Those aren’t cops! They aren’t even in uniform!” said one of the Red Suits, shooting one of the cops dead and attempting to hit the driver as the two vehicles collided.
“I don’t care if they’re cops or not! Strike down those imbeciles!” said Aner. They had approached a bridge, the Voidville metro trains running beneath, and on the bridge was a barricade, with military individuals and another cop car.
“Slow down, they’re going to pop our tires! Prepare to lose momentum! Crash the barricade!” said Hornius. The driver slowed the car, and ran over the spikes the police had laid out, with the chasing cop car following suit, popping its tires. The third cop car had also sprung into action, driving at them and quickly gaining on them. Aner then turned towards the driver and whispered something, and they fell back, landing in between the two cop cars. The cop car with the popped tires attempted to ram them again, but the Red Suit driver breaked, the tireless cop car ramming the other cop car off the bridge.
“Ahahaha! You see Hornius, you aren’t the only one who can create an impressive plan!” said Aner, cackling. As the limousine exited the bridge, the driving Red Suit attempted to gain on the final cop car, but the rims of the wheels on the cop car began to scrape across the pavement as the deflated tires where deteriorated, sparks flying at the Red Suit driving, causing them to be blind.
“Use the sunroof!” said Hornius, prompting one of the Red Suits to open the sunroof, barely managing to keep steady yet still managing to fire at the cop car. The cop car swerved, managing to drive itself into the offroad, and letting the Limousine drive freely away.

[Content Warning: Graphic Imagery]
The blood red moon beat down upon Stania Square, the fires behind having calmed, a smoky haze beating down upon the battlefield. Labourers worked tirelessly to build the wooden stage in the middle of the square, and to remove the broken vehicles strewn about. They moved like worker bees, obediently preparing for Stania’s next steps, removing all the rubble and bodies and bullets. In the middle of the square, Modivel Damon stood, holding the charred Voidstanian flag in his hands. It was once flying proudly above the Imperial Quarters, yet now, it was in his grasp. The bodies from the battle were piled in the middle of the square. Police and bodyguards and protesters and firemen. VIC agents, rioters, soldiers, and civilians. Dropping the flag onto the bloodstained ground, Modivel approached the pile, the price for his victory. He had won. Played them all like fools. They stared back, eyes glazed with passion or fear or loss. Their mouths agape with silent screams. In this amalgamation of the dead, one corpse stood out, the severed upper half of the police chief that had followed Modivel so loyally. The labourers reached the pile, and followed their orders. Matches were dropped in the pile, and the bodies cast alight. The flames of the dead flickered upward, as more and more bodies were carelessly consumed by the inferno, melting them down to ash. Skin began to melt, and the air was filled with smoke and putrid smells. The eyes staring back at Modivel began to melt as well, leaving grotesque forms, the skin melted and the eyes gone, the sockets filled with smoke and flame. In the heap, Modivel spotted Chief Allus again, and saw the pain in his eyes, the sorrow that engulfed him in his final moments. Modivel stared back with no such sorrow. In his mind he’d justified his actions. He told himself that it wasn’t his fault for being an opportunist, for seaking success. He would soon be king, and he deserved it. He had truly played everyone. Modivel smiled at the pile of the dead, inhaling the smoke as Loy’s skin melted off him, the charred skull being all that remained. Above him, the noise of whirling blades landing atop the Imperial Quarters broke him from his stupor. He turned away, and saw the flag lying in blood on the ground. Modivel picked it up, and wrung the blood out, it seeping into his hands and spilling onto his shoes. He turned back to the pile, and cast the flag into the flames, it catching flame. Modivel smiled, and turned back to the Imperial Quarters.

[Content Warning: Graphic Imagery + Suicide]

9 O'clock. The Hidden was silent. The boat continued on course. The Captain continued to steer. The engines hummed. The Federation was still far out. Major James had seen nobody in an hour. After his squadron had decided to split up, James had only seen one, rambling about the beast, before shooting himself. Afterwards, The Major had made up his mind. He would enter the Medical Ward, and speak with patient zero. Entering the ward, he found the location in havoc. Blood and vomit was strewn across the room, and there was a sound.
James fired. His bullet hit a disheveled beast of a human, who collapsed into a fleshy heap. Their face was torn with stretch marks, and their mussels sagged, weak and deteriorated. Still, the Major pushed deeper, towards the answers that lie in the darkness. In the dark ward, the noises in his mind echoed lounder. The roars. The whispers. The beast. He tried to pay it no mind, tried to ignore it, but it beckoned him here. Whispering. Muttering. Then he heard another sound. A call, not unlike that in his mind but different. Entering a closet in the medical bay, he found the thing that called to him. Joseph White. He was chained to a dirty bed, blood and vomit surrounding him. His body was weak and rotting, and flies landed on it, but then promptly died. His body looked boney and without substance. His eyes were glazed and faded. To James’ shock, White turned to him and muttered,
“H-he did it. He-” started White, before beginning to wheeze and cough up blood. “E- E T-t-t-achiotti,” said the diplomat, coughing again before collapsing. The Major didn’t know what to do, but as White died, the voices of this so-called beast echoed in his mind louder and louder. He knew he couldn’t have much time left. Resolving to write what he knew he grabbed a scalpel from the medical cabinet, and he wrote until he couldn’t write anymore, as he vomited and grew weak, his muscles dying. He barely finished the account, the final words being poorly written and desperate, and signing it ‘The Major’s Account.’ Laying back, his job finished and the pain mounting, he stabbed himself with the scalpel, free from the Beast at last.

[End of Content Warning]

The giant trees of the rainforest and the tropical rain made it hard for the helicopter to land. The East Tropic Jungle, also known as the Alweeka rainforest were just below them, the new home of the Royal Government. Snake City, the only city on Snake Island, had already declared their support for the new government, and therefore was not a viable area for the government to re-establish itself. There would be, however, one area that would be loyal to Voidstania still, and especially Void. One of the Red Rebels earliest allies, and the adopters of the King. The Alweeka. They eventually managed to land in the airstrip at the main Alweeka town, Weza, the City of Sapphire. The vine-covered stone buildings illuminated fluorescent light on the slightly cleared jungle floor, and a great temple, the Woluc, was in the center of the town, and stood out amongst the low buildings. It was a pyramidal temple, and a blue neon light shone from within illuminated against green tainted stones. Tall rainforest trees covered the top village, sheltering it from the rain the jungle was known for. Stone pathways connected the buildings, sticking out of the muddy soil. Power lines that ran to the Alweeka dam were connected via the trees, and had vines stretching down them that required frequent cutting. The helicopter section of the airport, being the way most Alweekans exited the village when needed, was full of helicopters, their metal exterior shining in the rain. Already, various Voidstanian officials moved about the helipad, as Alweekans aided them, unloading their cargo and finding shelter for the members of the government. The Alweekan citizens were not the only ones that had gathered on the helipad, as several members of the Alweekan militia and armed guard lined the airport, sorting out the entry of the non-Alweekan people into their already filling up home. The Alweeka, while mostly sparsely inhabiting the jungle in smaller villages, now numbered over 500,000, and the calls to expand Weza and consolidate power into a powerful central city to serve as a center to reconnect with their practices and people after years of disconnected guerilla war were prevalent across the territory. Now, however, with war once again looming over the island, these cries were quelled. This time, however, they were consoled by not having to do so alone. The Royal Government was beside, and the King was just about to land. The helicopter that had carried the King and his entourage landed on the helipad, the Vicelord and the King exiting side by side, a fairly large group of bodyguards and VIC agents making their way out of the large helicopter and standing by the King. One of the Alweekan Guard approached them, his Alweekan military garb different from the typical one. He was still adorned with cloth that looked like leaves and dressed in brown and green, as all Alweekan soldiers did, but he had two red sashes across his chest, as well as a cape made from the brown, spiked hide of the Voidshu beast, the symbols of a general of high standing, the sashes being derived from those on the old Alweekan shields. Half of his face was covered in a metal, face shaped mask. It was adorned with sapphire markings, his eye made of sapphire with a brilliant shining pupil in the center. He approached Void and bowed, and Void bowed as well. Semius knew the man well, and Stephanie knew his name. The Alweekan Spear-Lord, head of the Alweekan military, Yewaka Kleewan ‘The Warbeast.’ Yewaka Kleewan had led the guerrilla fighting since the late 60s, and had coordinated the Alweekan assault on Snake City during the Voidstanian Revolution. He had expanded upon Alweekan ambush tactics, integrating tunnels and traps that rivaled those in the Vietnam War, as well using the fauna and rainfall to mask movements or lead counter attacks. It was also he who organized the evacuation of Weza, and protected it during the raids and bombings, leading to the scarring of half his face and the loss of his eye. “Rise, young King. Your nation is under attack, not Voidstania, but the Alweekan peoples. Do not apologize. Do not back down. Do not stand idly by. The Lonce has requested you speak with him. He waits inside the Woluc,” said Kleewan. Void rose, as Kleewan turned to the bodyguard. “As the head of both the Militia and Guard, I will handle the King’s entry into the Woluc. Besides, many of you are injured, tired, or perhaps both. Blank, if you choose, you may accompany the King to the Woluc,” said Kleewan, and Igno nodded. He, as well as Stephanie and Semius walked with him and a small group of Alweekan guards walked on the slippery stones that made up dark streets, as people bustled from place to place, finally free of the hot jungle sun. Void tried to wave at the people he knew, but it was taking most of his power to simply walk. Eventually, they reached the pyramidal temple, Igno helping Semius up the stairs and into the main corridor, the cool humid air filling the room despite the ceiling fan rotating, emerald and sapphire carvings spiraling across the stone floor, some looking old, and others appearing very new. In the middle, the Blue Diamond sat. It was about the size of an eggplant, and a brilliant blue. It was in three large pieces, held together by brilliant sapphire and sat atop the tongue of a large snake statue. The diamond had once been in one piece, and Semius had seen it then, but after the bombings it had shattered. Three of the pieces stood in the Woluc, one in the eye of Kleewan’s mask, and another in the memorial for the victims. Semius and Kleewan bowed to the diamond, and Stephanie and Igno followed in their example, hearing the entrance of others.
“Rise, young Semius,” said the newcomer. The Alweekan Lonce, the leader of all of the Empire and keeper of the diamond, Lonce Iman Weeka, stood before them. “Voidstania is in disarray. I had feared a day like this, when Voidstanian paranoia from her countless invasions finally grabbed hold of her mind, and steered herself towards doom. Now is not the time to look to the past, however. Now is a time of action. I have no doubt that you will stand, my King, but how to do so is now in your hands. Vicelord Rock, your attempts to salvage the nation were admirable, but there is only so much one can do to fight destiny. Now go, and Semuis, eat. For your nation needs you. If you need aid, I am here,” said the Lonce, bowing to King Void. The King turned, and exited. And in the falling rain, the voices in his brain seemed to get quieter. That night, Semuis ate.

Looking out at the crowd from behind the stage, Modivel saw the plethora of faces, murmuring and waiting. The Voidstanian Herald would film and cover the entire thing, for all of Voidstania to see his success. Yet, the helicopter above the still smoldering Imperial Quarters cast down a shadow on his moment, a looming presence that would be determined not to go. That would be a matter soon. For now, however, he had a speech to deliver. He stepped onto the stage, into the light of the spotlight and the lunar eclipse. The cheers were deafening, and Modivel waited until they subsided before beginning.
“People of Stania! I speak to all now, to announce the beginning of a new era! For those unaware, King Void’s royal government committed treason by agreeing to give Voidians to Aner Jener, an aristocrat who helped the Free State in the atrocities it committed. Furthermore, Stephanie Rock is her daughter, and agreed to take up Aner’s name in her honor! The Voidstanian regime was corrupted, its leadership consisting of a traitor and a King that couldn’t get out of bed! Change was needed. Despite the fair warning given, many chose to support these evident traitors in upholding the corrupt regime. It was then that I made the hard choice to act, and ensure our people would remain safe and secure from the influence of foreign powers. The traitors fought back, attempted to secure Stephanie in her corrupt position of power, but ultimately, the day was won. The traitors flee, and we remain. The Senate too is not free from this corruption, this plague that took hold. They stood to remove myself from power, to stand with the Brezzians which bomb our homes and attack our nation. They stand with the foreign powers that once drove us from our homes and into the slums! At the forefront of this is Ocreal Listina, who has called for peace with the Brezzians as they kill our people! They stand with the traitor Foger and with the Brezzians! She stands to overthrow our government with the aid of the foreigners, just as Nunenburg was overthrown! She stands to ‘liberate’ us, under any means needed! She stands to ravage our homes, kill our people, and let us suffer once more! We cannot let that stand!” he said, as the people cheered and shouted. As they did, Commander Jalo and several soldiers escorted Ocreal on stage, turning the cheers to boos. Jalo approached Modivel, and handed him an ornate steel axe, the blood moon and the burning Imperial Quarters engraved on its hilt, the skull of a snake capstoning the top. With the axe in his hand, he began to speak again,
“Ocreal Listina, you stand here today having failed to stop change, having failed to realize that the Brezzians and Voidstanians cannot co-exist, that they despise us, fear us, that they see us the same as all the foreign nations of the world do. As a threat to their power! You fail to see that Stanians can only look out for ourselves, not the Nunenburgian traitors, or the barbaric Alweekans, or the Federates or the Brezzians, or any other group! We are Stania! Nothing else! Yet you still stand with the people who stand to suppress and weaken Stania, and drive us to extinction! You are a traitor, Ocreal.”
“Stop! You fascist do-” she began to blurt, but Modivel stopped her, swinging the axe into her chest. Ocreal wheezed, and fell backwards as Modivel dislodged the axe in her chest. The crowd cheered again, the blur of Stanian faces screaming their support. The sensation of victory and pride filled Modivel, and he turned to speak again.
“Traitors! Foreigners! They shall not be welcome in this land! For we brought change, and unity to our nation! We Stanians proclaim now to the world that nevermore shall we be oppressed! We will not bow to any leader that isn’t Stanian, or any Stanian that stands with non-Stanians! We do not bow to Brezzia, or Nunenburg, or even King Void! Henceforth, we are no longer in Void’s Stania! We are no longer people governed by weakness and inefficiency! We are a people of our own, an empire of Stanians for Stanians. Our government shall be simplified, and the bureaucratic mess that limited Stania from caring for its people shall be fixed! There will be no Senate! The number of petty bureaucrats and Minister positions shall be halved! The confusing and worthless state boundaries and city names shall be abolished! From now on, we are no longer Voidstanians! We are Stanians, independent and free! Unoppressable and unstoppable! A nation that looks at its enemies and shows them what happens when they try to tame the Stanian beast! I hereby proclaim that now begins the Second Stanian Empire, one for Stanians and for the success of Stanians! One that cannot fall to the foreigners ever again! Now, for the continued stability of Stania and the destruction of her enemies, I have called upon the aid of Stania’s best general to ever exist! The man who united us against the Free State, and who defeated the foreigners who killed our families and made us slaves! I hereby call upon Fren Warner to enter the stage, as my Vicelord and Grand-General, to show our enemies what happens when Stania is free!” said Modivel. The crowd cheered, Modivels words setting the sparks that began to burn as fury within Stanian hearts. Out from the side of the stage, Fren Warner entered, as the crowd cheered his name. Modivel felt a bit outshined by him, as Warner was dressed in his green and brown Red Rebels uniform, his hat wearing the sign of the Bloodmoon, his well trimmed outfit matching his brown cape which flowed behind him. He immediately took to the microphone, and spoke to his people, passing Modivel without acknowledging him. He motioned for the people to quiet themselves, and began his speech.
“Stanians! It is a pleasure to return to this beautiful city in the heart of our beautiful kingdom. I have been banished for too long. More than that, however, I am honored to return here to serve you once more, and fight for you and for Stania. I am more firmly determined than ever to beat back this attack, and Stania shall not again fall to the influence of the foreign powers that seek to control us. We have never been a nation of slaves and will not be reduced to one in the future! We have not fought against the foreign powers for years for Stania to fall to the Free State once more, and we will honor those that lost their lives in the fighting by fighting now. Whatever Stanians in the past had to sacrifice for the existence of our empire, they shall not be greater than those which I am today prepared to make. So today, I shall make this sacrifice, I shall fight the Brezzians until they realize Stania was never theirs to own, and then I shall beat them, and they shall be ours to own! We will prove ourselves to the world that we are strong, and that we will never be reduced to the weakness of the Free State again! We shall stand united against every foreign threat, and whoever offends against this unity should expect nothing else than annihilation as an enemy of the nation! Our war effort shall double, and it shall be stronger than ever! For the Brezzians have made lies to justify the oppression of the Stanians by claiming that we had committed acts of provocation! They have called for war! So, I shall rise to such a challenge! We shall rise to such a challenge! We shall not give up, or rest, and we will succeed! Our time is now!” said Warner, the crowd forcing him to stop over their cheering. Modivel attempted to grab the microphone and continue, however Warner kept him aside, continuing when the crowd settled. “My whole life has been nothing but one long struggle for my people, for our restoration, and for Stania as a whole. I have fought and led, all to ensure that the foreign powers remain not only dismissive of their ideals to take our islands, but submissive to our every whim. I ask Stania then only to support me in this great quest, to fight for eachother and our success, just as I will fight for you. I will ask of no Stanian more than I myself am ready to do, and there will be no hardships for Stanians to which I will not submit myself to. My whole life henceforth belongs more than ever to my people, and I am from now on just a fellow soldier of the Stanian Empire. Today, I have once more put on that uniform that was the most sacred and dear to me, the one I wore during our first war against the foreign powers. I will not take it off again until victory is secured. And it will be secured! We have won once, and shown our strength! Therefore, I do not doubt that our victory is inevitable! Stania will rise and it will conquer until no one dares challenge our national integrity, or our rights! For we are Stanians, and we are far stronger than anyone who dares stand against us!” finished Warner. The crowd cheered his name for minutes, enamored with the legendary general. The captivated crowd had broken into cheers far louder than those for Modivel, and the new king barely even was noticed beside the Gran-General. Warner then lowered himself from the stage and into the people, talking and befriending the crowd, his personality leading to laughter and friendship amongst the people he spoke to. Modivel could see it in their eyes, the crowd adored the man, and they wanted to follow him. When he finally turned and left, the people began to follow, leaving the square with him. Modivel hadn’t even finished his speech.

The cool ocean wind blew over the deck of the damaged Dark Star, but Dawn Force was unable to feel it. Instead, they were held in the brig of the ship, sitting on the metal floor of the ship and waiting for any hope to escape. Volcan currently stood at the bars of their cell, attempting to find weak points.
“You know, a rogue agent taking control of the Cosmosis Coalition was not something I anticipated,” said Abyss.
“There isn’t a need to justify why we’re captured, Abyss. Keep tending to Infernal,” said Volcan, wiggling at another bar.
“Quit wiggling those bars. You don’t need to escape,” said a voice from down the hall. Moments later, Volcan spotted Sergeant Sergio Surr approaching, keys in hand.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting here, some of the crewmates got a bit rowdy and I couldn’t have you orchestrating a revolt against me. Look, it doesn’t matter now,” said Surr, opening the lock.
“I must disagree, it really does,” said Abyss, attempting to grab Surr’s gun. Surr predicted this, hitting Abyss’ hand away.
“Nice try, but believe me. You’re safer here with me then you would be in Voidville,” said Surr,
“You’re going to have to explain what you mean by that,” said Abyss. Surr just chuckled. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone, searching for things on it.
“I figured you should know, we are currently on our way to the island of Furvania. I wish to make some amends with the pirates there. I have my reasons to aid them, money and a fleet primarily, but there are others,” said Surr,
“You’re just a moron. What could the pirates provide the Cosmosis other than death,” said Volcan,

“They say the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and recent events unite the both of us,” said Surr, handing Volcan his phone. On the screen was a speech, delivered in front of the Imperial Quarters, by none other than Warner himself.
“You, I’m afraid, were too late to save your country,” said Surr, mockingly.
“Better than to betray it for your own gain,” said Hone, standing. He approached Volcan, as Surr drew his pistol at the two of them.
“Be glad I’m choosing to keep you along. If you were in Voidstania, you’d be hunted and killed off, slowly, one by one. I intend to kill none of you, at least not now. Sure, I’m a traitor. But I am all you have right now. I’m going to return your weapons to you. In fact, Volcan, Stevens had a few incendiary grenades you might like, along with other stuff in the hull below. You could kill me, sure. But the Cosmosis follow me because I’m strong, and I’m not following the law. Who’s to say you wouldn’t turn them in? They’d be scared, unlike now where they feel safe with a Stevens-like leader. Speak loud enough to the Cosmosis, and they’ll obey. Guarantee their status quo and they’ll fall in line. Work with the law, and they’ll be threatened and they’ll attack. So sure, I’m a traitor, but it takes skill to betray as many people as I have and still be alive. Don’t f*ck with me,” said Surr. Hone backed away, and Surr put his gun back in his pocket. Volcan stayed for a second, but slowly moved away.
“I asked the chef’s to serve you dinner. It should be ready by now. Stay in fighting shape, and hopefully with the help of the Furvanians we can get us all to a point where we can strike at Warner. Like I said, anything that is undamaged down in the supply room, you can have. Also, your dorms are marked,” said Surr. He turned and left, keeping the cell open.
“Some new boss,” said Volcan, sitting by Infernal. She’d lost blood, and got burned and fought to exhaustion, but the medical team had said she was fine, just tired.
“I’m more concerned about the new Warner issue,” said Abyss. “I haven’t got the faintest plan for how to get him…”
“Sounds like Surr does. Honestly, if we’ve got half a brain, we should just use this time to rest. When we reach the pirates, maybe gain some Brezzian aid and info,” said Hone,
“Sounds… fine, I guess. It’s the best plan we’ve got,” said Snakebite,
“I still don’t like this traitor. I can’t trust him,” said Volcan,
“We haven’t got a choice. Very well, we shall follow Hone’s plan. In the meantime, let us eat. When Infernal wakes, we should have an impromptu funeral. I want to see if we can find some peace, do something special, while we have time,” said Abyss. The mention of Markman hit Volcan’s mind like a truck. Between worrying about Infernal and trying to escape, he’d blocked it out of his mind. He wasn’t nice to him, the pouty guy, but he was someone who shared his pain. The pain of losing her. Volcan sat on the floor, and watched as the rest of Dawn Force left to eat. Only Infernal, still asleep, remained. Volcan stayed too, until he felt himself drift off. That night, Volcan didn’t eat.

Warner walked through the Imperial Quarters, noting the blood stains and the smell of smoke. Modivel had done very well. Going up the bloody stairs, bullet holes etched in the walls, he couldn’t help but think how perfectly things had gone. Sure, the King, Lady Jener, and Surr remained as loose ends, but Daniel was dead, the Cosmosis fleet mostly his with their crew currently captured and awaiting execution, the Federation was about to begin to die with disease and the majority of the country was following his lead. Now, only one useless loose end remained. He entered Modivel’s new office, one that had previously belonged to King Void, and was greeted by the new Imperial Congregation. King Damon was at its head, with Staliss, Jalo, and Toluz, and others all making up part of this new council.
“Welcome, Warner. Please take your seat,” gestured Damon, motioning to a seat labeled Grand General & Vicelord. Looking at the others, Jalo was now the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Staliss was the Vort in Nunenburg, Toluz was Minister of War, and several of Warner’s traitors maintained their positions, such as the new head of the Stanian Imperial Intelligence Committee, headed by Tumu Lett, who’d been saved from execution by the coup. The Minister of Economic Affairs, Jen Reef, as well as a few others, had been captured and agreed to work for the new regime. Modivel looked down at a clipboard, no doubt his plan for the meeting, but Warner decided that the war was a more pressing matter.
“I will need the new Technovoid guns to be produced en-masse. I have already secured enough guns for the beginning of the war, but if we’re going to sustain a full war then I doubt we cannot manage without a strong industry. I have also drawn schematics for my new classes of tanks, drones, artillery and anti-air, and I need them to be produced,” said Warner. Modivel shrunk back into his chair, visibly upset. Warner, frankly, did not care.
“I doubt Stania has the capabilities for-” started Reef.
“I’m aware of the limitations we’re going to have. We do not have the labour to supply this entire war, and I doubt Technovoid will be willing to surrender to the new regime so easily. There is a solution, however, that greatly aids the Stanian people. Staliss, you are going to capture Nunenburgians and round them up, and then you are going to use them as forced labour,” said Warner. He smiled, and thought of the failures he saw in the old regime. Their morals and apprehensions keep them from achieving greatness, but he would realize Stanian ambition. Now, he had to simply win this meeting, and gather great use from it.
“Will do,” said Staliss said,
“With that, the Nunenburgians can be properly dealt with. Ensure this is organized, Reef. We will need to keep the system and ensure it can work on the Brezzians when they capitulate,” said Warner,
“O-okay,” said Reef. It was clear to Warner that Reef would do nothing to stop him. Good. That made him very useful. His willingness to keep his position and go with the herd made him a simple manager. Perhaps, Warner thought, Reef wouldn’t need to be disposed of.
“Jalo, you will inform the Eleutheryans that, should they use their space weaponry, Stania will have no choice but to deploy its nuclear arsenal. At both the Brezzians, and ourselves and the Voidstanian rebels,” said Warner.
“But surely, sir, we cannot fire our arsenal at ourselves,” said Jalo,
“The morals of the communists will hamper their efforts. They won’t dare fire if they know innocent workers will die,” said Warner, “Jalo, have we heard from Technovoid-Neverdas?”
“Nothing yet, General Warner. The people of The Red Isles, however, have pledged allegiance to Void. The Imperial Navy is already on course to bombard Port Marx, and the naval bases on the island have been secured. Snake City has aligned with us, but the Alweekans are harboring the old government. Other than those, only Nunenburg remains seemingly undecided,”
“As expected, might I add… the soldiers from the gangs are currently attempting to seize Nunen, and Frontier forces have already disposed of Federate forces and are moving towards Stalin City,” said Toluz,
“Good. Send the Super Aircraft Carrier to the rainforest. They'll have no defense against bombings,” said Warner
“Will do, my King,” said Toluz, despite Modivel sitting just a few chairs down. The King flinched, and Warner swore he saw a scowl form on Modivel's face.
“How about we address the Brezzian problem. What do we do about them,” said Staliss,
“I say we-” started King Damon,
“Strike them in the pirate countries first? No, that's predictable. I say we keep our ships on a defensive perimeter, and we dispose of the Voidstanian government before they become too great a threat. Once we can do that, we can send all our resources into surrounding the Brezzians and defeating them in the seas. For this to work, or for an invasion to be possible, we must secure the industrial heartland of our Empire, Neverdas,” said Warner. Modivel scowled again, and stood from his chair.
“Warner, can we talk, alone?” said Modivel, gesturing for the balcony outside Void’s office.
“I’ll allow it,” said Warner, standing and walking outside. King Damon followed, and the door closed leaving the two alone. The blood red moon shone brightly down, still fully eclipsed and shining a red light on the balcony. The stars twinkled above the skyline, and the park below was silent. Warner looked at the top of the building, at a star just above, shining almost a reflective red. As Modivel looked at the star, he took a breath, and began to speak.
“Warner, I want to thank you. With your plans, and my hard work, I was able to successfully become king, and for that, I thank you. With that being said, you are no longer the King of the Frontier. The National Frontier doesn’t even exist. It has been assimilated into my empire. Now you are my Vicelord, and therefore you obey me,” said Modivel. Warner almost scoffed. Damon could not play politics and manipulate him, not as simply as that, at least.
“You would be nowhere without me, Modivel. I approached you, I helped realize your ambitions. Stay in line,”
“Stay in line?! Obey your king, or I will have you executed for treason, just like Ocreal. So you should stay in line,” said King Damon.
“I'm afraid, Modivel Damon, I cannot do that. Nor, did I not see this coming. A shame, Modivel, but it seems your usefulness has run out,” said Warner. Modivel turned, but Warner didn't look at him. He just looked at the star and smiled.
Wren hit her mark. A bullet, which Warner knew was painted with the Brezzian flag, pierced through Modivel’s skull and into the bulletproof glass behind them. Another bullet fired and hit Warner squarely in the arm, a non-lethal shot, to make things look real. He was rushed inside, and feigned his concern as he was rushed to the hospital.

Despite the war against Brezzia, it appears that the deadliest portion of this conflict is happening amongst Stanians. The Battle of Stania Square involved roughly 11,453 civilians who worked at the House of Law, Senate Building, Imperial Quarters and Intelligence Institute, of which over 7,000 died, and approximately 21,000 other civilians around the city were involved, leading to over a thousand more deaths. The square buildings were protected by around 8,370 traitors, of which only around 300 survived, fleeing the various government buildings in helicopters. Around 7,740 freedom fighters were also involved in the strike against the traitors, including over 3,700 military personnel. In the battle, there were 1,345 reported casualties, with over a thousand more currently in critical condition. King Damon has issued his sympathies for the lives lost, including chief- we interrupt this messaging to report that Voidville Hospital has proclaimed King Damon dead at 11:37 PM, after what appears to be a Brezzian terrorist shot him in the skull. The terrorist has yet to be apprehend-
Warner shut off the television. It was all he needed to see. The King, assassinated by a Brezzian terrorist, and far more important to him, his replacement was obvious. He smiled, his victory simple and effective.

All hail, King Warner, of the Second Stanian Empire.

Long Live the King

[END OF ACT TWO]