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The Words We Want Heard
This side story follows the events of Chapter 21: The Trial


München, Germania - September, 1954

Due to the timing of Calamity Amb becoming available again, saving Mary Canary would have to wait until after my lesson at a München community center. A group of about two hundred men and women sat before me. They had come to learn how to prepare for the very likely escalation of occupation as every country dogpiled on Germania to 'help' us decide the future of our country. We all remembered or had heard stories of what had happened after the Great War, so I didn't have to persuade them how important it was to make sure people knew how to protect themselves before we had another occupation.

"Okay, we will end with a quick summary before we adjourn this meeting," I declared from the podium in the modestly sized meeting room. "First, stick with your group when traveling through the city as much as possible, and check in with each other regularly. By sticking to your group, you are less likely to be taken captive or mistreated by the occupying forces. Remember that their Rule-Resembling Order protects them but not you from them. Second, if you are alone, avoid the occupied areas and don't let soldiers lure you in food and supplies. If you are desperate for food, check with your neighbors or seek out a member of the Angel Corps for what you need. Thirdly and finally, if you see something, say something. Interpol officers will be around to help protect you under international law, but we can only intervene if we know something is happening."

After my wrap-up, I answered their questions and let them know what the next meetings would be about and their dates. We would be doing firearms training, drills, and best practices for hiding and organizing one's group. Interpol could not protect everyone alone. Soldiers were notorious for raping and torturing the dehumanized local populations in occupied territories, and the imperial powers had definitely demonized both Germanians as a whole and anti-imperialists in particular after the Great War.

I had rushed into my lesson this time, but I was a bit distracted. My cramps were extra painful this time, and while I usually would go on menstrual leave when in these situations, it was hard not to feel obligated to work through the pain during the preparation for a potential civil war. Unfortunately, we typically suffered such distracting cramps whenever our stress was exceptionally high, like now.

"I miss being a full homunculus," Sonnetto groaned. "How did you ever manage, dear?"

"Pain relief and mental clarity spells,"
the war vet claimed without looking her partner in the eyes.

"She magically doped herself," I explained frankly. "Which we are not going to do. We have over-the-counter pain suppressants that will have to suffice. I don't care if we miss work days when this happens. I don't want to build a habit of using that spell every time we are in pain."

Part of why Tanya became a sobbing mess during her captivity in the Russy Federation during the war was her inability to magically dope herself whenever she felt sad without a computation orb. She stopped using the spell after Visha and Matheus insisted that it wasn't worth bottling it in anymore. The spell didn't just adjust one's mood, though. It also allowed someone to defer processing emotions. Each deferral just incentivized the next use of the spell more because the feelings became more intense, creating a vicious loop.

While we commiserated between ourselves, one of the Interpol officers assisting with the meeting walked up to me while I packed my things.

"Hey, Captain Weiss, did you read the new article on Agent Canary's trial?" he inquired, beaming. "I got the recent Francois newspaper if you are interested."

Because I didn't trust what I would say, I used a new trick. If I put a bit of mana on my voice box, people would hear what they wanted to hear. Everyone but me would hear the same thing as my intended audience did. The great thing was I didn't have to use the tedious thought-to-speech spell.

"I am beyond done with the nonsense in the Francois press," I replied. "One journalist had the chutzpah to ask my sister after she mentioned wanting to read a novel in Albish if there were any bookstores in her country. At least two articles this week depicted Calamity and all Americans in Abya Yala as violent, barely literate, ultra-religious gun-nuts. The main liberal Francois newspaper keeps contrasting the Yalans with the so-called 'good, civilized, more European' Americans on the East Coast. I swear if I read another Francois news article dragging Calamity Amb's name through the mud, I will lose it."

My two halves gave me the side eye for using this spell. Tanya thought I was avoiding responsibility, and Sonnetto disliked not just directly telling people the truth. Regardless, it was my choice at the end of the day. I did what I could to help my two halves participate in conversations with others, but I was not going to let them treat me like some chauffeur or messenger all the time.

"Thank you, ma'am," he replied, beaming. "It is great to have another person who likes to stay informed. I will be sure to get you more articles so you can integrate them into your lectures. It is great we both have the same interests. Oh, you might like this one."

He flipped through the paper until he found an article about Lavarians and Prussens being 'victims' of the 'barbaric' socialist faction that 'tortured their children' — a kind of blood libel. Essentially, the article flattered the court by defaulting to the Prussen and Lavarian perspectives and extolling their exceptionalism.

Cultural exceptionalism served as an excuse for why the conquerer ethnic groups should continue to possess disproportional power over the country as a whole. Prussens notably dominated the military leadership. For example, both President Ropen and Tanya von Weiss were Prussen veterans who had gained considerable rank during the Great War. As for Lavaria, Rudolph Himmler and his party attempted to 'revitalize' Germiania's culture by making the country more monoculturally Lavarian. One of Himmler's initiatives required young women to wear Lavarian-style dresses in his millionaire-backed youth groups.

This assimilation of some minorities into Lavarian or Prussen identity came with the implicit acceptance of how the Unification of Germania transferred much of the wealth and land into the hands of the current Post-Unification ethnic duopoly. Tellingly, many people among the Prussen and Lavarian middle class had rallied under the NSP banner for the cause of 'purifying' Germania of so-called 'unfit' populations and 'degenerate' culture, which challenged their duopoly over culture, wealth, and governance.

In other words, a pro-imperialist framing dominated my coworker's article. It depicted the ethnic duopoly as the victims of irrational and monstrous Others, and those Others were basically told just to put down their red banners and return to the Prussen Enlightenment "Question but Obey" model popularized by Woltaire. That might have seemed progressive a century ago. People know that questions alone would not put bread on the table.

In fact, it was the journalist herself who should have asked more questions from those in power; however, it was understandable that she didn't. The Francois Republic had shifted well into siege capitalism by this point. Siege capitalism (or proto-fascism) was the bad cop to liberal capitalism's good cop. When the ordinary people got too revolutionary or resistant to imperialist wars, the bad cop would come out to crack down on dissent and manipulate the press's coverage related to domestic and foreign policy. The journalist could just be a victim of the action politique (ACPO) handling that crackdown on the freedom of the press in the Republic.

"What do you think?" the officer asked me after I skimmed it. "I think those who like the NSP should read articles like this to get our country back on track and tone down the deplorable rhetoric."

"What do you mean?" I wondered in utter bewilderment. Did we not read the same article?

"Look here how the article takes the NSP to task for their racist language," he replied while pointing at a small paragraph halfway through the article.

"I appreciate that you want to fight racism," I stated tersely, "but this article won't help for a lot of reasons. Namely, you don't fix oppression by making it more polite, especially if you plan on still arresting and killing people to put them back in their place."

It was at this point that I realized that I still had left my 'make people hear what they want to hear' spell active because the man thanked me for agreeing with him while encouraging him to expand his project. In a way, I was happy the spell prevented my bitter, frustrated, and pedantic monologue from being overheard, but I was worried about what he and others may have thought I said.

While Tanya and Sonnetto chastised me, Rex stowed away the last of his special inks and brushes and joined me. He had been working on some glove with a sigil on it with his Immortal homunculi guards during my talk.

Matheus and Calamity were good with us adopting Alexander "Rex" Magnus II. It did make me anxious that once we got to the safehouse this evening, we would potentially be meeting his father and Roxanne's husband again.

The sniper Ramona Mercer would join us for the walk home. Hilary Brecht, who led the United Front in Germania, ordered Ramona to guard my son for some reason, and Elya encouraged me to go along with it for now. I didn't blame Ramona for trying to kill Victoria Truman, but I could not help but be on edge.

"Moms, are we ready to go?" He signed me in Esharani, the Persian sign language.

"Yeah, get your…friends, and we will go."

He was lucky I had this uncanny polyglot ability, and sign language had a lot of intuitive elements that had made it a lingua franca in some regions at one point.

"I am happy you let me keep them," my son celebrated with a smile, referring to his guards. "I was so sure you wouldn't."

"Honestly, what else are we supposed to do? They could potentially get sentient at any moment, and leaving them somewhere is very irresponsible. Just promise to take care of them until then, Rex. Your other moms, grandpa, and I are very busy, so we won't be able to be there to help consistently."

"Grandpa doesn't have a job, though,"
the young homunculi countered.

"He is going to Uni. I want him focused on his studies when he isn't helping us avert war."

"You make it sound like he's also your son."

"It's complicated. Tanya was his superior for a decade. It is hard not to see him as someone to cultivate."

"Well, he is an adult and no longer her subordinate. Why are you managing his life?"


I froze.

"You look afraid," Ramona commented in Albish from her corner of the meeting room.

"Afraid of what?" Rex inquired, using his notepad again.

"I know that look very well. She is afraid of losing someone."

"She can't just control her family like this because she is afraid."

"Okay, that is enough, you two," I muttered. "I am tired of being psychoanalyzed. It never ends well for us."

We walked to our shelter location, continuing our banter. It was a barber shop in a back alley in München.

I waved at the barber, who smiled at us as we moved the small coffee table out of the way. I put my fingers on the checkered tile and found a groove in which I could get my nails. It was a bit hard, but quickly got the camouflage lid out of the way. The entrance could barely fit Matheus, who had to really squeeze in his shoulders. Luckily, I could get in and out of places with my mandate powers, no matter how much I changed my appearance.

Inside, there were hammocks, a small table, and pretty good ventilation. If you were going to be part of the resistance or protecting their rights, one was wise to get the best hiding places set up early. We had a stockpile of supplies and computation orbs designed for long-range communication. It was a bit barren, but if worst came to worst, it might be home for a while, depending on what happened.

Germania had built several basements and tunnels like this during the Great War and previous occupation. As Interpol Officers, my two halves had gotten entirely acquainted with these secret locations because the crime bosses and sex traffickers had taken advantage of them. The United Front forces would conduct their resistance activities from these tunnels when the Allied Forces arrived en masse.

Once Matheus came back, I could do my operation to rescue Mary Canary. Technically, nothing was stopping me from doing it before my adoptive father got back, but that would leave Ramona and Rex alone while Sonata went dormant. Neither of them knew Germanian. The Abya Yalan sniper also had a very understandable permanent chip (or several) on her shoulder with the world. Still, it put people off because of how uncompromising she was in fighting anything less than her definition of 'the right way'. I was tired of all the pushback I got because I knew pure workplace democracies didn't work.

My mind wandered as laid down and let the homunculi guards handle some tasks for us.

I wondered if Valve ever finished Half-Life 3 in Tanya's old world. I doubted it. Their no-hierarchy worker democracy had made the employees at that company so siloed to their personal creative projects that they barely completed anything anymore. The Soviet Union had a similar problem—a lot of impractical scientific inventions and rampant inefficiency. Everyone wanted to be a creative, and no one wanted to do labor.

Perhaps in a high-tech world where robots handled all the life-enabling labor, like food production, we could have such a relaxed lifestyle. We still were far from such a world.

One of the homunculi guards handed me a coffee and my lunch.

"Thank you," I said before chomping down on the turkey sandwich that had been made for me.

I sat down and got out a deck of playing cards and called on Rex and Ramona if they wanted to play some Old Maid to pass the time before I started my mission.

"So what is the glove about?" I inquired, gesturing to the object my son had been working on so long. I had my hands filled between eating and playing cards. Rex only looked at his cards once before placing them aside.

"It is an alchemist glove," Rex answered with pride. "All the young alchemists are making them."

"What is wrong with using Mehndi?"

"Mehndi are girly and take so much time to prepare."

"Men can do Mehndi too, Rex. There is no shame in it. Your uncle used them, too, and why is spending more time getting ready in the morning a bad thing?"

"Because I just want to jump out of bed and do stuff. Plus, alchemist gloves are cooler, though, and so much more high-tech. See this."

He pulled out a comic book called 'The Trials of Farhad and Shirin' with a depiction of an alchemist snapping his fingers and creating a torrent of flame.

Great, he has fallen for product placement.

"Is this glove safe?" I inquired, worried.

The young man twiddled his thumbs.

I guess that is a debatable question. Well, he is an adult. My son better not make me arrest him.

Flipping through the book, I saw that this Farhad wasn't all battles. There was a romance subplot here. On one page, for example, he did some pretty old-fashioned blood alchemy to create a field of red tulips for his love, Princess Shirin, which was sweat in a way. Apparently, it got derailed with a lot of geopolitical commentary at one point. It was probably a reflection of the turmoil happening in Persia right now.

Back to the game, we were getting to the last few cards.

I think the left card is the Old Maid, I thought.

I picked the right card out of Rex's hand on the table. It was the queen — the Old Mad.

Rex giggled silently.

"Did you really just use the Solidarity connection to mess with me?"

"Sonata, you have to take every advantage you can," Romona commented. She picked the last card she needed from Rex, who clearly didn't have the Old Maid after our exchange.

How often had they been messing with me this game, and I hadn't noticed? Next time, three can play at that game of throwing fake thoughts into their heads.

My other halves agreed.

Then, the secret entrance opened, and Matheus squirmed his way down.

He laid down his things.

"How are you doing, Sonata?"

I didn't really feel like telling him 'like shit', so I used the spell that would let him hear what he wanted to hear.

The tall Germanian man blinked and got teary-eyed. "I am so happy to hear that. You have no idea how long I have been waiting to hear that."

"Rex, what did I say?" I discreetly asked, shocked by this.

"You said that he was doing a great job, and you appreciated all the hard work he puts into being a good father for you."

My stomach sank.

"Tanya, you actually tell him that," Sonnetto instructed, her Empress's voice having slipped out by accident.

"I am already on it, honey," Tanya replied before sending her thoughts to Matheus. "Sonata, would you give him a hug for me."

I had my orders and gave him a 'tactical' hug he sorely needed.

The guy definitely put in a lot of hours trying to support and understand us. I cannot fathom what would have happened to Tanya if she hadn't had his help right after the war, so we really needed to check in on him and show appreciation. How much did Matheus think he was failing at being a good family member because we didn't regularly give him feedback?

I think there are a few morally ambiguous perks to this new spell.

"Sonata, please don't abuse it,"
Tanya chastised as she got ready for her mission with Sonnetto to rescue Mary Canary. "You could really cause a lot of problems for us if you don't know what you are saying."

"But this is so much easier than figuring out what people expect me to say,"
I pouted mentally.
 
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In the News - the Germania Revolution and the Bomb
New Amsterdam Times - Unified States - Published September, 1954

Pro-American Rally Interrupted by Riotiers (1)
Last Tuesday, the Germanian American Bund held the "Pro-American Rally" rally in Madison Circle Gardens in celebration of Germanian and American culture and values. A 30-foot portrait of George Hashington front and center greeted the approximately 20,000 attendees of the event. Outside the convention center, police held back anti-Germanian rioters who sought to disrupt the rally. One anti-Germanian rioter allegedly snuck into the rally as an attendee and ran on stage to assault Gerhard Wilhelm Kunze before police stopped him.

President Fights to Free Germanians
President Eugene Talmadge swore yesterday to do all that was within his power to free all the Germanian citizens taken captive by the Mages of Interpol 15. In July, Senior Magical Officer Elena Müller and Agent Nichts arrested several top-ranking politicians and business leaders in Germania. The President characterized the arrests as a gross violation of Germania's national sovereignty by the League of Nations and that his administration would take into account every possible measure to restore Democratic order back to Germania.

The arrests led to unrest throughout Germania as citizens of the country poured out into the streets in favor or against the arrests. According to the Silver House in Hashington, D.C., the Russy Federation and the United Front in Germania had put mage agents in place inside of the country in preparation for the chaos these arrests would cause. The Silver House also told reporters last Tuesday that terrorist cells funded by Moscva have seized the Germanian capitol.

NAT reporters have verified that democratically elected President Ropen of Germania has declared a national emergency. The declaration temporarily designated München in Southern Germania as the country's capital until his administration reclaims control of the country's northern half from the Federation and United Front. Ropen has called on all world leaders to stand with Germania in their darkest hour. Last Wednesday, Congress passed an appropriations bill that authorized increased military aid to Germania, and Talmadge and Ropen plan on meeting in München sometime next week.


World News Daily - Publication of the League of Nations - Published September, 1954

Kongolese Miners Ask for Higher Wages; Legadonia Gives Them Lead Instead (2) (3)
Last week on Wednesday, striking Kongolese arcanium miners met with Governor Amour Marron and Miner Director Edgar Sengier at a local football stadium. Eyewitnesses tell WNN that approximately two thousand strikers attended the meeting. Sengier's company offered a verbal agreement to the demanded raise. When a miner named Leonard Mpoyi demanded a confirmation in writing, the eyewitnesses told WND that the Governor pulled out a pistol and fired. Then, soldiers opened fire on the other strikers who fled for their lives.

According to WND journalists, thousands of men, women, and children mine arcanium for Sengier's company for little pay. Sengier's company expects them to handle raw arcanum ore with their bare hands. Between two to five percent of miners have developed mutations as a result of their continued exposure to the ore. Arcanium is used in the creation of computation orbs, power plants, and the next generation of bombs. WND journalists have uncovered evidence that the Unified States of Eastern America has contracted Sengier's company to supply their military with arcanium to develop an arcanium bomb like the one used by the Francois Republic. Both the Legadonian Colonial Officials and the Unified States military provided material assistance to Sengier to break up the strike and send the miners back to work.

Unified States Passes 'Hague Invasion Act' to Set Karl Klick Free (4) (5)
Last Wednesday, the Unified States Congress passed the 'Supplemental Appropriations Act for Further Recovery from and Response to Terrorist Attacks on the Unified States Act'. On top of approving additional military aid to the counter-revolutionary faction of Germania, the law authorizes the President of the Unified States to invade Legadonia in order to retrieve prisoners of the International Criminal Court (ICC). The head of the ICC has dubbed the law the 'Hague Invasion Act' and stated that such an invasion goes against the entire spirit of the League of Nations. The Unified States has defended the law, claiming that Interpol and the ICC violated the national sovereignty of Germania with their arrests.

Among the many individuals President Eugene Talmadge requested released, the Germanian industrialist Karl Klick was near the top of the list. Klick has a long history of donating to political parties in Germania, and those donations lie center in Interpol's arrests. Senior Magical Officer Elena Müller defended the arrest of Klick last Sunday. Klick belonged to the Keppler Circle in charge of the paramilitary wing of the National Socialist Party of Germania (NSP) and provided material funding for the organization. According to Müller, Klick has a material connection with orders mages within the paramilitary group received to conduct campaigns of violence throughout Germania.

According to Agent Nichts' report, Klick committed and planned several more crimes unrelated to the NSP's paramilitary operations. One crime Agent Nichts suspected him of committing involved using NSP funds to purchase his own company's stock in the Francois Republic's stock exchange and artificially inflate its price. Klick allegedly planned to create concentration camps where targeted demographics would be forced into slave labor and at the mercy of braided whips. Agent Nichts' report highlighted a long history of Klick using bribes, and she has told WNN that Interpol has already found several suspicious transactions between Klick's companies and lobbying groups in Hashington, D.C.

Allied Kingdom Threatens Trident
Prime Minister Catherlain of the Allied Kingdom threatened yesterday to deploy Project Trident upon the United Front Army of Germania if they cross into Lavaria. Project Trident is suspected to be a supermage the Allied Kingdom acquired from the Silver Legion in 1950. The announcement has caused many Germanians across the country to find shelter and prepare for rapid escalation to a military occupation.

The Russy Federation Has Super Bomb (6)
The Russy Federation has tested their own arcanium bomb that the Politburo tells WND is several times more powerful and half the weight of the Grand Blue bomb of the Francois Republic. The Federation calls their weapon the 'Tsar Bomb'. Russy Nuclear specialists tell WND that seventy percent of the world's supply of arcanium exists in Central Asia under the Federation's control. Additionally, the Federation has most of the world's leading scientists, particularly in the field of arcanology. The League of Nations Security Council has begun talks about eliminating the magical super weapons, which have no practical legal use in war. The Federation defended creating its weapon of magic destruction due to the Allied Kingdom, Francois Republic, and Unified States insisting on making their own first.

AD_4nXeBb4uMxNoUI1FgwFuDHmyzI1jBQM9O1Qv8HAJVlogqBg2MiTzNrdZM87SKHV8IOOkJZDEBlCGxFZ9ax06pJTQRE7kYxq8T0oJTgU3zCxi05cWmKN8e0qkKt7D9Jj1A0qD2eIeK91e8RGatqtvhiQERNkVo

Germanians Panic as the World Points their Bombs at their Country
With the whole world watching the Germanian socialist revolution closely, foreign policy experts at the WND warn of a potential thermo-magical conflict that could leave Germania an unlivable wasteland with only a fraction of the population surviving as mutants. Central to the conflict is control over the industrial sector in the Rhineland. Our foreign policy experts believe that if the Rhineland goes to a socialist geopolitical faction, that would be the last nail in the coffin for capitalism.

The Security Council warned of the danger of a conflict in the heart of the capitalist West; however, both sides of the revolution refused to back down. "It is ridiculous that we cannot decide for ourselves what kind of government we want without the whole world deciding to erase us from existence," said Hilary Brecht, the leader of the United Front of Germania. She further claimed that the government under President Ropen lost its legitimacy when he agreed to give the chancellorship to Rudolph Himmler, who allegedly planned to arrest and enslave all the Marksists in the country. The President of Germania has offered peace in exchange for the United Front surrendering Berun back to his government. He offered some concessions to the unions as well if they expelled all their revolutionary members and handed over Hilary Brecht. Ropen held the peace talks in Londonium with other Western world leaders. He notably excluded Hilary Brecht and the General Secretary Ivan Smirnov of the Russy Federation from the negotiations. The peace talks concluded with Ropen inviting military support from other capitalist countries into Germania. The Russy Federation mirrored the development by sending their own military to support the United Front.

"Everyone is panicking right now," Wilibald König of Köln told WND. "Half of my block have fled to Legadonia. None of us want to be wiped out. The only way I keep my cool is by remembering my training during the Great War and asking myself what my old commander would do. I think she would tell me to join up with my fellow Germanians and kick out the commie bastards as soon as possible. If Brecht wants to live under communism, she and all her traitor buddies can go live in the Federation."

"I had to join the United Front," Rhiner Neumann from Warsaw told our reporters. "I have friends whom the National Socialists would have targeted for eradication. My old commander is a lesbian, and her former adjutant is Russy Orthodox. Both of them have fled the country with their families, fearing what the NSP would do to them. It isn't about socialism or capitalism for me. It is about creating a country where my brothers and sisters in arms can live freely as themselves, so I will fight against Ropen and other real traitors who turned against their fellow Germanians when they say profit in it."

Citations:
  1. Kramer, Sarah Kate. When Nazis Took Manhattan. npr.org. February 2019. <https://www.npr.org/sections/codeswitch/2019/02/20/695941323/when-nazis-took-manhattan>
  2. Mputubwele, Ngeofeen. The Dark History Oppenheimer Didn't Show. wired.com August 21, 2023 <https://www.wired.com/story/the-dark-history-oppenheimer-didnt-show/>
  3. Coles, TJ. Backed by AFRICOM, corporations plunder DR Congo for "climate-friendly" materials and blame China. The Gray Zone. thegrayzone.com. November 30, 2021. <https://thegrayzone.com/2021/11/30/africom-corporations-dr-congo-climate-china/>
  4. "U.S.: 'Hague Invasion Act' Becomes Law." Human Rights Watch. August 3, 2002. <https://www.hrw.org/news/2002/08/03/us-hague-invasion-act-becomes-law>
  5. Strawn, Julie. Hogan, Charles G. Democracy On the Take: Flick Scandal Shakes West German Politics. The Multinational Monitor. Vol 5. No. 12. December 1984 & Vol. 6 No. January 1985. <https://www.multinationalmonitor.org/hyper/issues/1984/12/strawn.html>
  6. "Tsar Bomb" Atomic Heritage Foundation. August, 2014. <https://ahf.nuclearmuseum.org/ahf/history/tsar-bomba/>
 
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Chapter 22: Freedom's Path
Last time on MI15
  • International authorities transferred Amber "Calamity" Canary to a Francois prison.
  • Tensions rise in Germania as the country gears for a potential civil war after Sonata arrested Rudolph Himmler and implicated President Ropen.
  • Imperial countries have sent support and 'advisors' to Southern Germania.
  • The Russy Federation and United Front forces have sent support and mages to Northern Germania.
  • MI15 commits to rescuing Mary Canary in order to de-escalate the situation.

Lorelei's Note: Tanya has kind of become an Archie Bunker for me.





Sonata's Soul Space - September 1954
(Tanya's POV)


I flew around near the exit of our soul space, letting my mind wander while Sonnetto geared up and Sonata said her goodbyes.

Inside our soul space, Sonnetto and I had created a house together with our ability to control the space. The interior of the house resembled our old apartment in Berun in many ways. My side had portraits of my family, an overstuffed filing cabinet, and a workstation. My partner had her painting station, music records, and a massive weapon collection.

Soul space followed the same rules as the ordinary physical world in many ways, particularly in how the laws of physics and magic worked. Chief Scientist Kakania "Agent U" Ugar hypothesized that this realm resembled the 'normal' world because everything was made out of mana at its most basic level, including souls.

That led to countless questions about the nature of souls and multiple realities. Did the everyday world exist inside Being X's soul until it was transferred to Being Y? Is the multiverse just a fractal of soul worlds containing yet more soul worlds inside its denizens ad infinitum? What happens if we create a lifeform in our soul space? Would it have a soul, too, that contained a soul world? Were we in our soul world or Sonata's soul world? The consequences of all of this were mind-boggling.

We did get some questions answered from Agent U's experiments. First, the owner of the soul could change their world like a god of sorts. Visitors to a person's soul would be completely at the mercy of the owner. Sonnetto and I shared ownership of our soul space due to our fusion so we could both manipulate our world. We were invulnerable in our soul space. We still felt pain and could be injured here, which would translate to Sonata's physical body. Those who did not have mana bodies like Agent U would have psychosomatic injuries as well.

The second was that our soul forms would not necessarily resemble our original bodies in the 'normal' world. These differences often took the form of metaphor or 'abstraction'. For example, I had silver lines on my face that resembled the trails left by tears for some unfathomable reason. Some people would be more 'abstracted' from their actual bodies, like Elya, who looked like cracked porcelain and had horrifying eyes that seemed to always see through even the obfuscations of one's soul form.

Our soul forms did change over time due to some influences, but these also took on the form of metaphor. For example, I had a silver-colored lesion on my left forearm where an experiment with Dr. Schugel had almost caused me to sever off my arm. The mark reflected my lingering trauma from that experience.

Sonnetto's situation with her soul form was a bit more complicated. As she attuned to the Unknown Self mana, her soul slowly changed its appearance to reflect my desires, which brought up a bunch of messy issues we had to deal with between each other. The Unknown Self mandate had, in a way, obscured one's own self while revealing things about others that they didn't know about themselves. We both knew about my desires now, but Sonnetto was in a cycle of doubt. She wanted to make me happy, but she didn't know if that was just how Roxanne was raised to feel as someone who was trained to be someone's wife. My partner could abandon the mandate, of course, but That would mean she wouldn't have its reincarnation benefit or the added power during that period. Neither of us wanted that since death was a genuine possibility for us at any moment, especially right now with the threat of thermo-magical war. We just decided, as a couple, to go with the flow and monitor the situation. If it becomes a serious problem, we can deal with it then.

To be fair, I liked who she was already a lot. Her style, while not mine, suited her. The only problem was that what I liked about her got emphasized. Her tomboyishness became more extenuated, for example, causing her sometimes to have a backward ballcap appear on her head suddenly. She didn't even like baseball like I did. It was a bit amusing. Fortunately, the changes seemed to be only superficial because she felt no compulsion to wear it.

Personally, I didn't want to force her to appear a certain way. That went against my deeply held beliefs about individual liberty and equality. People shouldn't tell people what to wear or how to style their hair, and what was happening felt like I was doing that to Sonnetto. It was up to her if she chose to conform to other people's expectations as I always had—

Tabling that thought before I had an existential crisis about my own free will, I checked on my partner, who signaled she had finished her last checks on weapons, including her fancy new grenade launcher. As for Sonata, the fusion was still discussing dinner plans for Ramona, Rex, and Matheus. I sighed and landed near the exit from our soul space next to my partner, recentering my mind on our urgent mission.

Germania needed us to act before the world decided to turn my homeland into a thermo-magical wasteland. Stuck between two sides of a conflict, I had only a few levers that I could move to avert disaster. Those levers were Hilary Brecht and Mary Canary.

On one hand, eliminating my long-time ally, Hilary Brecht, would weaken the United Front but would play into the fascist goal of handing the government back to the business leaders who supported Rudolph Himmler. These business leaders had tried and failed to get rid of democracy in Germania. Had they just taken Ronald Reagan's strategy, they could have kept liberal democracy while also knee-capping unions, defeating communism, cutting wages and taxes, pushing out foreign competitors, and militarily securing foreign markets for themselves like they wanted.

In other words, industrialists around the world didn't have to copy Ildoan plutocrats, who forwarded Menito Bussolini 20 million lira to seize power for them and autocratically accomplish those same big business objectives. Our report on the Silver Legion already explained to the world how Rockafella and other industrialists overreacted to Franklin D. Hoosevelt's New Deal. These American business leaders funded the Legion's failed coup attempt and then pivoted to electoral strategy in order to end democracy and reverse those social democratic reforms. These industrialists just needed to be patient and slowly whittle back the overreaction to the Great Depression. There was no need to cynically rely on anti-minority propaganda or co-opt anti-elite populist slogans to convince the voters to embrace an autocrat because liberal democracy already had all the tools industrialists needed to make a functional market economy.

I don't know what was wrong with rich people in this world. It was like a significant number of them wanted to rule the world and were willing to fulminate prejudice for religious minorities and kill people left and right to accomplish that goal.

Now, because of the Germanian industrialists' missteps, MI15 had to deal with Hilary and the United Front's overreaction to the fascist attempt to seize power and kill the socialists and everybody they loved.

…Okay, it was probably not an overreaction from their perspective.

Also, Hilary's politicking had proven very useful over the years, including in helping us stop Rudolph Himmler's rise to power. If I turned on Hilary now after relying on her so much, my traitorous reputation would worsen tremendously. My remaining non-Interpol allies might even accuse me of still being brainwashed or having lied about being brainwashed in the first place. I was reasonably desperate to recuperate my reputation as an anti-fascist.

That left me with no choice but to go after Mary Canary instead to save my homeland.

Depriving the Allied Kingdom of their 'Trident' would bring the Limeys to the negotiation table with the United Front and the Russy Federation. Basically, I had to navigate this world's version of the Cuban missile crisis by denying a superweapon (Mary Canary) from a small island nation (Allied Kingdom). In my mind, the world needed a little more time to digest mutually assured destruction and shift towards a Cold War framing of the conflict of Germania. A Vietnam-like conflict was definitely better than having the country of my birth completely erased from the map at a moment's notice. More importantly, I would have more time to figure things out in a protracted conflict.

At this point, I realized I had been internally monologuing for quite a while.

"Sonata, we need to get moving and fast! Finish those goodbyes now, officer!"

We were technically the same rank, but I had seniority.




Secret Bunker in Southern Germania - September 1954
(Sonata's POV)


I rushed the last of my goodbyes for Tanya before I temporarily poofed out of existence.

"Good luck," Matheus said with a mighty hug that lifted me up into the air. "We will be waiting for all of you."

"They said they will be back as soon as they can," I reported once my toes touched the ground again.

Turning to Rex, I gave him a shoulder pat. I would have gone for the head pat, but I didn't want to mess up his turban.

"Goodbye, Moms," he told me in Esharani (Persian sign language), which I had learned over the last couple of months.

"We will be back as soon as we can."

My heart trembled. I did not realize how much the affirmation of motherhood would affect me. After consulting with Calamity and Matheus, we agreed to bring Roxanne's child, Alexander "Rex" Magnus II, into our family. The thing about decisions like this was that once you utter the words 'mother' and 'son' in good faith, there was no going back. A bond forms tighter than any contract or promise. Every utterance of the words just reinforces that bond, in my opinion. I knew others didn't feel the same, so maybe I was lucky to have such a wonderful, loving family.

Though Rex was an adult, that did not mean there would not be more responsibilities. Still, I had Matheus and, eventually, Calamity to help share the life activities of raising a family. As for Ramona, I knew my sister saw her as family, but it was hard for us to get along. We just saw the world in such different ways and had plenty of history.

"Sonata, are you ready?" Sonnetto asked me with a subtle smirk, interrupting my thoughts.

"You aren't delaying, are you?" Tanya added with a glint of suspicion in her blue eyes.

I mentally whistled. I may or may not have gone on a mental tangent to spend more time with Rex before I ceased existing for a bit. Like the anxiety before getting a shot, I instinctively drew out time before the inevitable. One could—

"Sonata, stop it. May we begin the mission?"

I sighed at Tanya's question. "You may."

With that, I was no more, and the Type-95 inside me fell upon the ground, buzzing as it continued to supply Tanya its power.





Soul Space - September, 1954
(Tanya's POV)


My partner Sonnetto double-checked her favorite twin pistols before stowing them away in her tattoos. With Sonata's confirmation, we sprinted out of our soul space along the strange roads that connected souls.

"She is getting more melodramatic," Sonnetto commented, referring to our fused personality.

I hummed in agreement, searching for monsters from the abyss. Sonata would be fine. Going poof was like going under for surgery. From her perspective, no time at all would have passed.

My purpose Mandate allowed me to travel these 'Shadow Roads' between soul spaces with which I had a common cause. Our mana could flow through these paths easily without needing to make a journey myself. When we held our conferences with our friends in our soul, they did not experience or remember traveling those roads, and I could fuse with my allies theoretically by passing a threshold in the amount of mana I sent them. When I did visit people's souls, they would go unconscious and appear in their soul world.

Along the Shadow Road, soul spheres floated in the abyss like asteroids. None of them were larger than a house, at least the ones near us. Many soul spheres came in clusters like grapes. From our reckoning, each cluster had about one or two kilometers of space between them, and the clusters represented people who were very close together. Despite knowing my sister for years, we still had bonds with others that went far deeper.

With no sun, we had to provide our own light with a simple cantrip or one of Sonnetto's glowsticks to reveal the path. The soul spheres reflected the light in various prismatic hues.

The paths between souls, like the one between our sister and our home sphere cluster, resembled an ancient medieval dirt path through a stony, gray forest. Calling it a forest was iffy because while the organisms resembled trees, they were closer to coral. We had yet to learn who or what had built the paths between souls or if my Purpose mandate created them.

Scre~~kree~~eech!

Suddenly, my attention immediately turned to our right as an eldricht monster careened towards us. Along the monster's mind-bogglingly gigantic tentacles, countless spheres of souls had gotten trapped in their suction cups. It would pluck one of these trapped souls from its tentacles and deposit it in its nigh-infinite-toothed maw. Lantern-like organs produced an otherworldly light at the end of its tentacle that reminded me of an angler fish. Soul spheres would actually be attracted to the light like a philosopher towards enlightenment, only to realize they would someday become monster food.

Sonnetto and I flew off the path as quickly as possible. I had to rely on my mandate spells while my partner deployed her alchemy ink wings. The amalgamation of tentacles made it hard to determine truly how massive the creature actually was, but just one tentacle had to be at least hundreds of meters long. It could probably bite into a submarine like a dog does a chew toy.

"Catch!" my partner called out, conjuring a mage rifle from her tattoos and then tossing it to me. Agent U had helped us recreate it in soul space.

The creature, with all its jibbering maws, twisted itself uncannily until it once again accelerated in our direction. Despite its size, it was far faster than it appeared, and I suspected it was moving at about 200kmph. Like any faster foe with a slow turn radius, it couldn't deal with prey moving about perpendicularly to avoid the monster. Scratch that. We were probably a lot faster than it now, given our mandates boosting our spells.

"Distract it!" I ordered it when I started running an optical formula. The silvery mandate circuitry that went up and down my hands lit up. The soul energy (mana) from all my allies in Interpol — mage and non-mage — blasted into me. A dozen optical formulae appeared next to me in the hues of the mana from my many allies.

Sonnetto performed her role competently. Her flight path formed a corkscrew around the main body of the abyssal creature. Her grenade launcher shot thermite-filled explosives into each of the creature's mouths. As those grenades detonated, the otherworldly soul eater retched in anguish.

What can feel pain can die, I thought smugly.

The creature took the bait and swerved to go after the crimson-eyed officer who had dared injure it.

I repositioned myself so that I was along the wide arc of Sonnetto's flight path and then aimed my rifle carefully to avoid hitting any of the souls. It would be irresponsible to kill some random person by accident. My partner assisted by using a transmutation spell to deploy a concoction that caused the suckers to get electrified and release their souls.

Once I felt I had enough power charged up, I pulled the trigger of my custom rifle made out of soul matter. The optical formula carved a hole through the monster and must have triggered some kind of mana-filled organ or soul chunks because the creature exploded into countless gunky bits.

Eldritch slime completely coated me before I could summon a bubble. Sonnetto chuckled as she had avoided the same fate.

My nice clothes…

"Let me help you," my love stated, grabbing my hand and then using the magic of her mandate to cause me to phase out of the slime. "All better, dear."

"Thanks, honey."

"Okay, how do we get back to the path?" she inquired, looking around.

Countless paths were floating through the abyss around us. I started to freak out.

"I think it is this one," Sonnetto claimed, flying down to one of the damaged roads that slowly reconstituted itself. I was about to ask her how she knew, but the moment I touched the room, something about it felt right. Perhaps it was because the connection was our own. I don't know how we would figure it out if it weren't our own road.

Thankfully, there were no more gigantic monsters that attacked us on our way to our sister Calamity's soul.

It was a sphere just like all the others but larger than most due to the quantity of experiences the ageless woman had accumulated. Several spheres were in a cluster here, and we couldn't actually enter soul spheres without having a bond with that person or having someone with us who did. That was why we needed Calamity to take us to her sister. The shell of her soul had this yellowish color reflected off my cantrip and Sonnetto glow stick. We pressed ourselves against the shell and passed through it like water passes the wall of a cell — osmosis.

On the other side, a hot Tejas summer day assaulted us. Unlike our soul domain, people who didn't live in their souls all the time tended to have spaces that reflected key moments in their lives. Looking around, we saw the rolling hills and a freshly painted red barn and house. A herd of longhorn cattle grazed in the fields behind some fences on the neighboring ranch. A river helped irrigate some cotton plantations in the distance, and there were no lakes or mountains as far as the eye could see. A sign designated the road going from east to west as the 'Empire of Liberty Stretch', which I think was a reference to Thomas Hefferson's vision of the Unified States that encompassed all of the Americas.

Another sign outside the driveway to the house said, "Canary's Farm - Our American Dream".

"Calamity probably appeared inside her house," Sonnetto commented before leading the way.

Before we could knock on the door of the domicile, it fell open with a creak.

"Spooky," my love said with a smirk before just waltzing in. "Calamity, we are here."

I excused our entry as was my old habit.

"I know, I know. Hard not to know when you get a wallop of mana so fierce it knocks you to the next life."

An amused Calamity walked out of the kitchen in her hospital gown and a prayer shawl.

"Freedom Week?" Sonnetto inquired.

"Yeah, and I guess Fasting Month starts on the first," the Tejan replied. "You are going to spend it with our newest family member."

My partner nodded.

I glanced between the two. They were talking about stuff I didn't really know much about. I had lived with Sonnetto for a long time, but I mostly stayed out of her way when she did Seeker and Legalist functions. Now, we were fused together. I primarily just focused on something else the best I could while she went through the fasting, prayers, and charity.

The biggest struggle being fused together was how exposed we were to each other. There was no tuning out your other half completely, no matter how uncomfortable an aspect of them made you. Instead, we had to learn to accept parts of each other that once provoked the most judgment. For me, in this context, that meant reeling in my gut revulsion to religion. For her, it meant tolerating my past life baggage and the remnants of my neoliberal viewpoints that had kept me going against Being X.

Calamity glanced at me, and by psychically drawing upon Sonnetto's insight a bit, I could tell the Tejan knew that Sonata celebrating Fasting Month with Rex would make me uncomfortable. These unspoken conversations always flew over my head.

"Agent U has a solution that will make it easier for me," I stated, and Calamity noticeably relaxed.

"So how can I do this guiding thing?" the Tejan inquired, walking out on the porch with us with her shotgun in hand.

"Just think about your sister, and you will know the way," Sonnetto explained. "At least, that is how we do it."

Calamity closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in thought. "Okay, maybe I need more practice because every time I feel like I got it, it slips away. It is also such a faint feeling."

"What is something that connects you too deeply?" I inquired, hoping that would help.

She looked at her gun first and then fixated on her shawl. Saying a few words under her breath, the Tejan sharpshooter smiled. "Well, I figured it out, but you are going to have to bear with me. I think my sis is celebrating Freedom Week too. When I go through the motions in my head slowly, I can feel the direction we need to go."

Religious solidarity was a thing, I supposed.

In my past life, secular humanist identity had taken off globally as a group identity during the war on Iraq and Afghanistan, the shift of focus from the atheist Soviets being the threat we needed to Other to the Muslim Middle Easterners, and access to international community building potential of the World Wide Web. Secularists like me finally didn't have our lack of faith associated with the bad guy, and bashing religion became suddenly more acceptable in a way that it hadn't since pre-WW2 for some reason.

My group of secularist friends saw ourselves as the rational ones who didn't engage in fanatical violence or get offended so easily. We had our celebrities and provocateurs who would call out religious communities for being prejudiced, pushing pseudoscience, or encroaching on the separation of church and state. In the Japanese context, the various cults that would pop up from time to time looked utterly ridiculous to me, and to be ridiculous was to inspire ridicule, which I kept privately to myself.

One of the common questions our atheist celebrities would get was something along the lines of: 'If you died and met god, how would you react?' I never expected to ever be in that situation, literally. I supposed I did have solidarity with my other secularists in standing firm, not so much in disbelief but in defiance of an illegitimate authority that failed to be a proper manager of the world. Unfortunately, I actually experienced that scenario and paid dearly for it.

Now, as both Calamity and Sonnetto knew, my trauma with Being X had transformed a snide sense of superiority into a profound discomfort. That god-wannabe was my occasional abuser for nearly two decades, and listening to anyone call him good or anything like that…it…it.

Sonnetto held my trembling left hand. The world had religion in it, and I just had to live with that. I just needed to find a place where I could be away from where it was happening.

"If I set aside the supernatural elements of the story, would that make it easier for you?" Calamity Amb inquired.

I nodded. It was a midpoint, a compromise. Amusingly, the supernatural in this world excluded magic, which could be observed in experiments.

Regardless, we couldn't afford to wait any longer.

Sonnetto and I followed behind our sister with glowing yellow eyes as she guided us with the power of a family tradition of storytelling.

"I shall begin with the story of Phara," Calamity began as she sensed where the tale led her. "There once was a man who ruled over a mighty kingdom. For all his riches and power, he was always afraid his slaves would rebel, so he called upon his soldiers to kill the firstborn of all the slaves before their numbers got too great for his armies to control.

"The slaughter created great anguish, and to save her daughter, one mother got on her knees and begged the king to spare her child, claiming that Phara would grow up to become a great magi as her magic was already evident. The king considered this request, saying, 'My son Ramus would do good to have a companion, and it would be a shame for a magi to perish'. The king named that girl Phara after his mother, who bore the same name."

Calamity paused to see how I was doing. I was fine, and we continued over the next hill, coming to the San Yancinto River.

"So the king raised Phara as his own child, but no matter how much the king told her that she was above the slaves, the knowledge that her mother was one prevented her from ignoring their plight. After the king passed, Phara grew into a powerful magi, and her brother Ramus inherited the throne. The two immediately started to argue. Phara demanded that the slaves be freed, but her brother claimed that doing so would spell the end of the power of their kingdom. Ramus did stop the cullings of the slaves for his sister's sake.

"Still, Phara abandoned the privileges of her royal post and went on to support the slaves in their plight for emancipation. A campaign of essentially civil disobedience followed. The slaves ruined crops, the magi conjured illusions of blood raining from the heavens, and they took up any arms they could to fight against their overseers.

"Ramus dared not summon the soldiers to put down the rebellion as doing might end with his sister perishing. He still refused to relent. He hoped that through attrition, the rebels would eventually surrender for a bite to eat. That was when Phara told him that if he refused to answer their plea for freedom, the rebel slaves would run through the streets and get vengeance for their family members whom Ramus' father had slaughtered. Her brother had his own daughter by this point and relented, fearing what would happen. He released all the slaves, and his sister and her people left. That was the last he saw of his sister and her people."

The ground changed by this point in our journey. Looking around, I could tell that the 'farmers' in this region had plowed the ground too much. Without the grass to hold the good soil in place, the wind picked it up in dust devils. Calamity grimaced.

We entered into a nearby ghost town with a rickety railroad, saloon, and sheriff station. A scaffold existed where slaves would have been sold, as well as bounty posters for the scalps of various Indian tribes. One notice announced that land was being handed out to any homesteader who wanted some. Settlers just needed to speak with the mayor for their plot. A recruitment poster called on mages and young men to join the army to push back the native people.

"I think we are going the right way," Sonnetto mentioned, pointing up to the sky where the other souls in the Canary cluster floated like moons. "But there is no set path, though."

"This is inconvenient," I replied. It still felt like we were inside our sister's soul orb, but not quite, which made sense, given there were probably some overlapping sections between the two centennial kin.

"I can still feel the way when I tell the story," Calamity stated with a voice filled with heartbroken remembrance.

I gave her the gesture to continue. The story did not bother me, so hearing the rest wouldn't be so bad.

"After Phara and her people left, they became nomadic for a long time," Calamity continued while glancing at her shawl for the next mnemonic pattern on it. "People argued about everything, especially about which direction they should go next. Phara and her closest confidants feared their new tribe of former slaves would disintegrate, so she declared that there would be new laws that would bind everyone in the group. It was a social contract of sorts."

"And the beginning of the original Legalism movement," Sonnetto added. Of course, my partner knew this part of the story.

"Exactly!" Calamity beamed. "Phara and her confidants formed a council, and they enforced the laws and stopped factions from forming. Those who were discontented with this could go into exile. A generation passed, and so did Phara before the nomadic Legalists decided that they would set down roots. The problem was the land to which they had fled already had people on it. Their new leader, Thomas, stated that because they had the law, they had a special right to this land over people who didn't have laws like them and worshiped idols. After several generations, the people of the law had formed a kingdom. They still waged wars on the tribes around them, collecting…how to put it…male skin."

Calamity paused to check in on me again to see if I was grossed out, offended, or uncomfortable. I shrugged. I knew more about male anatomy than either of them and had seen far worse things in my two lives.

"Moving on, the kingdom had its own slaves. No longer were the Legalists simply a people of the law but a people united by a blood that made them distinct from their slaves. But that did not mean their laws became insignificant. No, instead, their laws rapidly grew in number, including the proper prices for male, female, and mage slaves. We had laws and traditions for what to eat, when to eat it, and how to eat it. Homosexuality became criminalized. Every day on the calendar gained a special meaning. With each law came a new way to demonstrate that you were a proper Legalist and not someone who had lapsed. All of this bound us closer together at the price of also telling us who we weren't."

It was an odd price for laws and a kingdom, but it made sense in a way.

The tall Tejan frowned as she seemed to have lost the thread of the story. While we took a breather and Calamity got her bearings again, the dusty wind flung a pamphlet. It would have smacked me in the face had I not instinctively activated my acceleration magic and caught it.

The document came from something called the 'Levelers'. It detailed a law that created a new legal category of 'race' to replace 'religion' as the basis for slavery. The law also ended indentured servitude. According to the pamphlet, the planter aristocrats had enacted the legislation in order to avoid losing valuable 'property' and weaken the early abolitionist movement. Since the indentured and poor 'whites' tended towards the abolitionist faction, the increased rights, privileges, and status given to poor 'whites' split workers into different racial castes. This racism had less to do with skin color but with the exploitation of lower castes. That was why the Swordist majority in the US labeled Universalists as 'non-white' in this social fiction. A lot of money from the wealthiest Americans went into propagating this new 'race' concept. I knew that after the abolition of non-penal slavery, the Swordists recruited the Universalists to police people of color lower down the American racial caste system.

Similarly, a whole industry of pseudoscience around reproductive labor emerged to justify the enslavement of women and also caused the oppression of GLBT people. That was also why the empowerment of women came with the liberalizing of sexual relationships, and that, in turn, made our GLBT community in Berun possible. Rudolph Himmler had sought to both send women back into their unpaid exploitation at home and round up everyone in our community for slave labor. Why? The unpaid and poorly paid labor of females served the enrichment of their husbands and fathers, many of whom had once been very willing to police the women in their families for that free labor.

Once I finally tossed the newspaper aside, we found that we had to cross a river—no problem for us mages in soul space. Calamity and I just flew over it. Sonnetto decided to practice running over the river only to find that, like a treadmill, she got pulled south several meters before she got to the other side.

Back on the right path, my tall Tejan sister continued her dowsing tale to find her sister.

"So there is always a bigger fish, and it didn't help that the ancient Legalist Kingdom couldn't get all that big due to how exclusionary its mile-long list of laws everyone had to memorize became. When the massive Ancient Ildoan Empire of Romulus and Remus came along, it had no issue conquering the small kingdom. The two kings appointed a governor to manage and oppress these ancient Legalists. They tried desperately to get their freedom again, calling upon the memory of Phara and the unity of their laws brought them, but to no avail. There were just too few Legalists and their enemy too great."

We stopped for a moment by a nearby sign that said we were in the soul-memory of Hettysburg.

"This is the point of the story when the Stranger arrived," Sonnetto commented. "This is important for me because shortly after that, the first Seekers emerged."

"And the Heartists," Calamity added, appreciating the audience's participation. "There was an unnamed Legalist who had been a potter — a person who really worked with her hands. Her family had been bullied and mistreated by the Ildoan Empire, and one day, she decided to organize against the imperials too. We called her the Stranger.

"Unlike other Legalists at the time, she abandoned the notions of tribe, blood, or adherence to the old laws," Calamity continued with a tentative tone, checking my expression. "She got herself a council like Phara filled with people from all walks of life, and they got together to start a movement that brought in as many people as they could.

"Key to that movement's success was their initiation ritual of washing away people's past," my sistered explained while discreetly hiding her soul's bloody hand behind her back. "A master, for instance, could wash away their status and differences and join the movement with their former slaves. Communes were formed where everyone would give all their property to the commune and live as equals together. Importantly, all tribes were welcome, but this created a lot of controversy with more traditional Legalists. These more established law-keepers kept challenging the Stranger to explain how her ways still adhered to the ways of the Phara, and the Stranger, in response, kept demonstrating how the law was fulfilled in the heart behind the movement. That is why they called themselves Heartists."

"Just a little more to go, I know it," Calamity Amb announced with concern dripping in her voice. My sister had problems, but this hellhole indicated that the Tejas Twister was in immense distress of some sort, in my non-expert opinion.

Checking her shawl one more time, she dowsed the path with her story once more. On the side of the road, there was a prominent grave dedicated. The epitaph read, "Joe Hill never died."

"Seeing the rapid spread of the Heartists' anti-imperialist teachings, the Ildoan governor started panicking. He bribed one of the Stranger's followers for location. Then, he sent his soldiers to capture her and have her executed publicly. This attempt to stop the movement backfired royally. The Stranger told her followers not to remember her as any one person but anyone because she wanted others to know they could emulate her. Nothing she did was beyond them. By accepting others, no matter how different they were, the Heartists could continue to build the movement against the Ildoan Empire and have their own kingdom. In fact, she told them to imagine the whole world in peace in a single kingdom where all were welcome."

We stopped for a second. Looking around my much taller sister, I could see a sign saying "Diamond Penitentiary". Beyond that were some oddly familiar desolate hills, twisters tearing through the landscape with butterflies in them for some reason, and a thundering hailstorm brewing. I spotted no sign of Mary Canary's soul form or a home-like structure yet.

"After the Stranger passed away, the movement grew even faster after word of the Stranger's martyrdom spread," Calamity concluded with sadness in her voice. "Everyone was talking about it, and suddenly, it wasn't just a local issue but one impacting the whole Ildoan Empire. The two emperors tried killing off more leaders, but that just made more martyrs. Stories proliferated of people meeting random people on the road who they thought were the stranger in disguise. It was popular to say that the Stranger could be anyone. A faction started to say the Stranger would come back from death no matter how much one tried to kill them or that an Angel of Victory would rescue the Stranger from certain death. Together, this Angel and the Stranger would go on to free the world from oppression."

Calamity gestured to Sonnetto to give an opening to add her piece.

"Yes, the very first Seekers appeared around this time," my loved one commented, also glancing at me. I gestured to continue. I was fine. "They would sit upon pillars and vowed to abstain from eating, carnal pleasure, and all sorts of worldly things during self-imposed tests of faith. Their public demonstrations of sincerity in their beliefs helped the Heartist movement gain more followers and boost awareness of the fight against the Ildoan Empire. Centuries later, after the Legalists underwent a reformation and split off from the Orthodox movement, Seekers found a new place among these Legalists to practice their traditions."

The Orthodox movement, I believed, had split from the Swordist movement at some point.

"Thank you, Sonnetto," our sister came back in, politely retaking the reigns of the story. "As for us Heartists, we almost succeeded in gaining our independence, so rapidly had our numbers increased, but then the Romulus' son Constance decided to declare himself a member of the Old Faith. He handpicked the wealthiest and most powerful Old Faithers in the Heartist movement and tasked them to create a version of the religion that supported the Empire. That was when the Swordist Faith emerged. Many of the Heartists switched sides to join the Swordists to avoid the subsequent purges of the Emperor's bishops and get status as loyal adherents of the Empire's new official religion.

"Many who stayed loyal to the Heartist movement eventually fled persecution, and my family went to the Americas to escape. You all know how that turned out. Heartists are still fighting for freedom today — some of us for the whole world, and some for just their family because that is all they can even believe they can save in a world where anyone can become a Swordist and turn on you."

The 'Sold' sign outside the Canary Household made it extra clear what had happened. Next to it, an older, rickety version of the sign from Calamity's soul read, 'The Canary Farm: Our American Dream Nightmare'. I remembered that Mary Canary sold the old family farm during the Dust Bowl, and her great-grandchildren and she had to find work at Richard Diamond's factories to survive. The chainlink fence with barbed wire made it clear that he had converted the farm into a prison.

My stomach sank. The land, which the Canary clan had acquired cheaply during the height of Destiny Manifest, had just gotten scooped up by the robber barons during tough times. It didn't help that the bailed-out agricultural businesses received massive subsidies in the Unified States that the robber barons used to buy out all the desperate small farms. These subsidies from the Dust Bowl were why corn was so prevalent in the US.

Because Calamity looked rather ill and needed to go, Sonnetto and I quickly thanked our sister for her assistance in getting us here, and I used my powers a bit instinctively to send her back to the physical world. It would also cause problems if she stayed unconscious too long or if they put those magic-blocking shackles on while her soul wasn't quite in her body.

As we walked back to Mary's house in her soul, I thought about the way the Heartists' story ended with the rise of Swordists. It reminded me of how Sonnetto once told me that when we define ourselves as essentially different from others, we begin to create a conspicuous group identity. This process of setting apart affects both the dominant group and the subordinated one as they polarize against manufactured irreconcilable differences. Part of the polarization process involves those in the middle feeling the need to make clear which side they are on. 'Moderates' often flip to parroting the dominant group's rhetoric. For example, in Bharat, many changed their family names to Patel to increase their caste and suddenly had more reasons to support the caste system. Then there was the moderate faction of Heartists and Legalists in Europa who would repeat modernist and pro-assimilationist talking points.

Similarly, the GLBT community was roughly split between those we called the 'Streets' and those we called the 'Suits'. The Streets wreathed themselves in their symbols, found shelter in exclusive spaces, and filled their conversations with in-group slang. They weren't trying to appeal to the dominant culture that intentionally oppressed and excluded them, but they did appeal to Sonnetto, who considered herself a Street. The Suits, however, danced to the tuned respectability politics. They gave a sanitized face to queerness that made members of the dominant culture feel comfortable around them.

Along with being called a 'Square', I knew I was very much a 'Suit'. No one wants to be at the bottom or discriminated against, and being a 'Suit' kept me and many others a sense of safety. It also made me more palatable to people I wanted to keep in my life, like Visha.

We 'Suits' had done a lot of hard work using official channels to make Berun into the queer capital of the world through politicking and fronting the money for organization building. We just had a bad reputation for habitually throwing less accepted minorities under the bus in order to endear ourselves to our Straight audience and get concessions for our slice of the community. Because I had experienced firsthand how some gay Suits abandoned lesbians when it was convenient, I could not fault Sonnetto or other Streets for their decision to refuse assimilation into 'polite' Straight society and to stand their ground for all people in our community.

Knowing history, I was also aware that once the 'assimilationists' were done casting out whatever equivalent of Streets were for a minority, they would go for the Suits next. That was because behind assimilationism was a wealthy industrialist turning the citizens against a scapegoat. Once the not-that-minority nationalists eliminated the first scapegoat, the industrialists would move up their artificial hierarchy to the next least accepted minority.

I sighed, and Sonnetto glanced at me. I had a lot to process but no time to really do it. Not getting involved in the efforts to stop the Diamonds and Himmlers of the world sooner was why we had such a big mess on our hands.

Had my Suit-like tendencies made me more of a liability or asset to these efforts to preserve the peace I value so much?

When we reached the front porch, the door swung open. The interior of the home wasn't a hallway or anything like that but a cave, stone and all.

There was a placard near the entrance in Rumelian.

"Alexander Magnus' Republic," Sonnetto translated. That explained why shadows danced along the length of the entrance, depicting the triumphs of a king in all matters of the military and philosophy.

Great, it seems we have to get through Roxanne's former husband first before we get to Mary.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked.

"We all have to face the things we fear if we are to get past them."

"In moderation," I added and took her right hand. "I will be there for you, Agent Sonnetto."

"It is better to dive into the deep end sometimes," my love declared before pulling me down into the man cave of the Philosopher King.





Betareading: Pinklestia101 and one other Anon.
 
President Ropen's Thoughts - The Unfree Free Society
This follows the events of Chapter 22

I had an essay worth of thoughts I needed to get out of my system. Feel free to skip if you don't like my essays on political theory.





Before a Press Conference - München, Germania - September, 1954

President Ropen was still feeling off after the shocker of all that had happened in the last couple of months, which had sent his political career in a very unexpected direction.

Tanya von Weiss and Elena Müller had tricked him into getting the NSP leaders arrested, and now he had to recover his reputation among the aristocrats and industrialists who backed the fascist movement. Harken, in the foreign office, was nearly breathing fire down his neck over messing everything up by getting fooled. He knew that Weiss had worked with Hilary Brecht for a long time during the provisional government period. That was why Ropen tolerated the avowed communist Brecht because her ally was such a straight-and-narrow imperialist and capitalist. The blonde mage Prussen being a lesbian didn't bother him. When Ropen was young, he spent a lot of time with gay men and lesbians among the aristocracy in Moscva and Berlin.

But Ropen had been fooled by Weiss' patriotic act. There were several clues to the woman's traitorous nature even before she became Agent Nichts and started a Freikorp. During her days as Degurechaff, she always gave the old aristocrat a sense that she despised authority, especially when he had caught her pointing her rifle at a statue of Lord of Faith as if practicing her aim to take on god. She even reportedly complained about government propaganda in the newspapers regularly during the war, though only to her closest allies, as some Germanian spies eavesdropping on her had discovered.

Tanya von Weiss might be a capitalist libertarian, but the whole point of that ideology was to confound potential communists into thinking that their freedom and liberation would come from austerity and more unfettered capitalism. As a proud follower of Edmund Burke and Otto von Bismark, conservatives like President Ropen knew that capitalism was foundational to preserving the aristocracy in the post-war Republic. The aristocrats existed by virtue of their land ownership, and capitalist libertarianism put retention of the aristocracy's wealth and land nearly above all else. However, libertarians are naturally suspicious of authority and their lies.

That was what made Rudolph Himmler's campaign so effective compared to the aristocratic conservatives trying to appeal to traditional militaristic leadership that Ropen had used in his campaigning. Himmler would say that the news and the politicians lied to people. He even took on the big banks. The ignorant plebians lapped it up because they could feel the lies and wanted a politician who would 'say it as it is', but Himmler was grifting them too. The finger always pointed away from his donors and towards their enemies, which included the big banks.

According to the highly inspirational Silver-Diamond Manifesto, "Suffering is real, and feelings don't care about facts." There was absolutely nothing the social democrat party or traditional conservatives could say about facts when they had developed a reputation for ignoring the suffering of the people. The Social Democrats and Liberals were notorious for pointing out all the lies conservatives tell people about race and sex to keep the workers fighting each other but ended up alienating the uneducated and rural voters. Why? Because they will ask things like, 'Why are you giving tax money to women to study feminism when men can't find jobs?'

The Social Democrats and the Liberals spin a story about how the uneducated voters are all racist, sexist, and 'stupid' without ever actually answering why — which was that a cadre aristocrats and industrialists fund to have scientists and newspapers spread hierarchy-justifying pseudoscience and propaganda. Instead, it was always the uneducated voters' fault. They make fighting Ropen, Himmler, and these racist voters into a mythological battle of good against evil.

So, it becomes a battle between four misinformed groups, as Richard Diamond had written in that anthology of Weiss and his essays. The first group of middle-class voters made broad, inclusive coalitions because they didn't feel the pinch of hard times enough to see other people as competition for scraps. The second group was poor union workers who have institutional traditions of inclusive solidarity holding them together. These two tend to vote for the "Left" and Liberal politicians.

The third group of poor landed voters tied their status and livelihood to their property and saw the redistribution of the little privilege they have to minorities and the poor as a threat to their lifestyle. The fourth and final group consisted of the working poor in financially precarious situations who are fighting for those scraps, as mentioned above. This group was most susceptible to propaganda like Himmler and Gobbel's. Immigrants, minorities, and women entering the workplace exacerbated the financial precarity for poor men and their dependent family members. These two groups tend to vote for "conservative" and fascist politicians.

Financial stressors like a recession were crucial moments for the Ropens and the Himmlers of the world to take power because increased financial precarity and layoffs eroded the first two groups and the increased percentage of the latter two. The big difference between Ropen and Himmler was that the social democrats honestly wanted to phase out capitalism and were giving unions full of revolutionaries far too much power. That was why there was a Civil War. Had Weiss just let Himmler take power, he could have culled out the revolutionaries and preserved capitalism. Like this, the well-promoted thought leaders for libertarianism were so comfortable putting Himmler-like dictators in power in other countries. All the Western powers knew that putting in such dictators was necessary every time Democracy threatened their aristocrats and industrialists too much.

Thankfully, once Himmler got rid of all these revolutionaries, the aristocrats and industrialists could manage society once more and make sure democracy never became a threat again. They would do this by controlling the number of revolutionaries. Austerity could be imposed during every recession to push people into the voter groups that were way more vulnerable to anti-Other propaganda. The voters would go along with austerity out of patriotic duty to tighten their belts for the country. Still, then they will find a ratchet effect where their social democracy doesn't come back even when they elect that party because all the parties have become run by mostly the same group of people.

In fact, voters will find their government having deficits due to the rich having locked in lower taxes. The deficits allow the rich to park their obscene wealth in safe and secure treasury notes that show up as assets on their financial statements and generate interest. The government will then give that lent money and their taxes back as subsidies and contracts. Deficits can also be used to justify further reductions in welfare and channel more money upwards to the rich. If taxes did increase, the ultrawealthy had ways to park their income in tax havens and just let the poor and middle class actually pay those taxes.

Despite what Tanya von Weiss and Richard Diamond said in their Manifesto, public education was just the taxpayers funding the training of future workers, so it was saving the rich money anyway because they shared the costs of that training with workers' families who also paid taxes for it and bought their own training supplies. In other words, the welfare that does get preserved will try to put as much of the financial burden on the workers as possible while being as profitable to the industrialists as possible. Public education would teach deference to authority, profitable patriotic virtues, and how to be efficient, task-oriented workers. Education will be focused on getting people into the workforce to serve the rich. Ropen was a big advocate for using tests to see which workers deserved to study academics or should be regulated to blue-collar work - the Abitur. Standardized testing, like the IQ tests before them, would help put the superior brains of the superior beings into jobs of their natural right.

Efficiency would be delightful and easily manageable. Since educated professionals were vulnerable to learning about how capitalism worked, it was necessary to cultivate the political Left academic into something that never advocated for revolution and had their lessons so inaccessible via technical jargon and the exclusive nature of higher education. This system would forever segregate the knowledge of how capitalism worked from the people who most needed to know about it to escape their financial precarity. These professors in Germania would even get several privileges and status symbols to further make them out of touch with the working poor. That will give them all sorts of conflicts of interest from ever rocking the boat too much.

By also controlling the media, foreign policy objectives and the limits of what was acceptable would be sustained. Voters would be told they lived in a democracy when they didn't in a meaningful way. Even in revolutionary countries like the Francois Republic, the voters would find themselves properly trained like the dogs they were into, never bearing their teeth because only bad dogs do that. Only non-violent protests that don't shake the boat too much will be legitimized, and only in a cultural way. In fact, social progress will replace economic progress for workers because it will give the educated a pretty story of progress and good winning against evil.

Prisons will still be hugely skewed towards hated minorities for slave labor. Norden, with its highly homogenous population, will probably be the only place where marginalization won't be as effective in developing its prison industry that kept the revolutionary-prone working poor locked up and watched. Prisons were the disprivileging way of getting rid of threats to the status quo, whereas educational institutions served as the privileging dismantling of threats. Still, schools had to be policed heavily since students were prone to figuring out how things actually worked. As for the current cadre of professors who had way too many revolutionary socialists, a quick, one-time culling of the herd would solve that problem forever, like what the Silver Legion had done and the Francois Republic was in the middle of doing.

If Ropen and Himmler were successful, then restarting the imperialism project would funnel a lot of wealth into Germania. All those goods will need consumers, which will require pulling people out of precarity into the middle class. Thankfully, by that point, liberal politicians will completely serve the donor class. Ropen can already imagine the ultra-wealthy industrialist Karl Klick deeply embedded in the future 'center' right party after making those concentration camps. These voters will guard their privileges so the threat of the Other can be propagandized to them. That was why Francois was having so much success dehumanizing Americans in Abya Yala as violent savages with a racist religion. It was paramount to the European powers to secure the oil in Tejas under socialist control, so the Republic and the Commonwealth were churning out anti-Yalan propaganda like crazy. While some liberal voters might call this Yalanphobia, most will see Yalans as no better than they currently see Himmler.

There wasn't any liberal notion that couldn't be twisted for imperialist projects. Gay rights? Some religious Americans in Abya Yala were theocrats who discriminated against homosexuals, so let's go save the gays by bombing their homes to kingdom come. Never mind that the Allied Powers were funding the White League, who were even more intolerant. It is the same with women's rights, religious rights, and secularism. The media would do such a great job of avoiding juxtaposing the seemingly contradictory policies of their government. The journalists would follow the accepted narrative, or they would find themselves pulled off the air or out of the biggest papers.

I wonder how many Europeans legitimately think they have freedom of the press? I wonder how many journalists think they do as well when they 'objectively' regurgitate government press releases in a rush to publish the information first?

Well, it wouldn't matter once the United Front was defeated.
 
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Bombs Away, Part 1
This side story arc follows the events of Chapter 21: The Trial.

Reminder: this is just a story based loosely on history.


München, Germania - September, 1954

President Karl Ropen rolled his shoulders and mentally hyped himself up for his Press Conference, but his mind was stuck thinking about what had happened during Himmler's arrest.

Honestly, when Ropen spoke to Weiss at the dinner at Himmler's place, Ropen swore she was someone trying to be Tanya von Weiss and doing a bad job at it. He knew Weiss well enough that she would always give the perfect answer expected of any soldier or officer — not spill out some deeply personal feelings. Ropen had honestly suspected that the woman was incapable of introspection or independent thought after meeting her at the War College once during the war. He had seen some higher-ranking officers hazing her with ridiculous orders like doing a one-finger handstand while drinking water. She thought they were serious and found a suite of magical formulae to pull it off. To make matters worse, when the officers got caught hazing her, the woman thought it was her fault and went on to improve the formulae further to get a 'passing grade'.

Ropen had asked her why she did that, and Tanya von Weiss seemed to freeze up and went pale. It was like she didn't even know why or was incapable of saying why without betraying some unpatriotic thought. He apologized to her at the time and told her not to worry, which somehow made her panic even more. The young girl back then was really messed up in the head. Eventually, Ropen figured out that if he just gave her a small reprimand, she would calm down. It was like she acted like she had dodged a bullet from a firing squad.

Seriously, how does one function if one is afraid of everyone like that? It wasn't like I was going to kill her.

Looking at the mirror before him, the old Prussen aristocrat sighed and snapped his fingers when he saw his outfit was askew.

"You can do this, sir," a young aide commented, fixing the collar on the older Prussen.

"Thank you, Johann," Ropen stated. "What would I do without you?"

With that said, the aristocratic world leader strode out into the Press Conference.

The powder of cameras flashed, reels of film rolled, and a volley of questions all hit Ropen's good ear all at once. Suddenly, his confidence drained. While every politician and military leader gets used to talking in front of crowds to an extent, Ropen belonged to the era of radio and board meetings. Filmed press conferences changed everything, turning what was an affair of sounding confident into also looking confident. The newspapers regularly dissected his appearance, and right now, he had to get a grip on his bearings as the memories of the Great War percolated at the back of his mind.

"You can do this, sir," Johann mouthed.

For a moment, the President saw Johann's uncle — Prince Philip of Eulenburg.

How he missed that old man. It was one reason why Ropen had kept Johann around. It was a way of connecting to a past he wasn't ready to give up on and would fight to the death to preserve their memory. The United Front wanted to eradicate the past to make their future.

Over my dead body.

Returning to the present, Ropen finished his walk up to the podium. Journalists were already scribbling away about how he had an 'odd pause' and might not be confident about Germania's future. A stump speech about unity against the enemy infiltrators and within flowed out of his lips with practiced ease.

How many times had he said something similar during the Great War? Too many times, and now it was feeling like that war again. The Russy again attacked Germania pre-emptively out of paranoia. This time was simply more covertly.

Did the Russy know that politicians exaggerate and make grandiose promises all the time?

It wasn't like Himmler was actually going to go through with his Lebensraum plan to kill all the Russy. Everything was going to be fine.

Then came the questions.

"President Ropen, Parii Gazette wants to know how your administration plans on handling Interpol."

The politician took a deep breath, formulating his response. "Interpol and the League of Nations have ceased to be a legitimate institution that serves the interests of Germania or Europa. We have to recognize that they now fully serve the communists."

Ropen started pointing at one reporter after another.

"President, what does this mean for Germania's relationship with the League of Nations?"

"We plan on maintaining ties with the organization, and we are doing all that the other European nations can to maintain our seasoned leadership over international diplomacy and secure our future."

"What are your worries about the Russy Federation using the Tsar bomb?"

"They won't because if they do, the Allied Forces and Germania will wipe them off the face of the Earth."

"How do you respond to criticisms of excluding Hilary Brecht and the United Front from negotiations?"

"We don't negotiate with traitors."

"What is the plan to de-escalate the conflict?"

"We plan on doing that through a show of force. The Allied Powers are ready to face the Red Menace and show them that they can't possibly win against us. Even if you haven't been conscripted, we are looking for as many volunteers as possible to help save Germania from the traitors. Those who have committed the unforgivable act of overthrowing the government must be slain to the man, and that is why Menito Bussolini and I are working closely together to rescue Rudolph Himmler and other real Germanian patriots from the enemy."

He picked one last journalist to voice their question.

"München Daily, what about Agent Nichts? She is our country's hero but was involved in the arrest. Are you saying she isn't trustworthy?"

Ropen's stomach sank.

"I…Sorry, this press conference is over."

President Ropen about faced and marched away from the podium. The reporters would have a field day, but he honestly struggled to care. So depressed, angry, and frustrated was he. Thankfully, Johann already had the luxury sedan waiting for him.

"You did a great job, sir," the young boy chirped with a voice full of honey. He definitely knew what his job was. "Don't worry, I will have those reporters taken care of for you. You don't have to think about it. Also, everyone feels sad sometimes, and you have a very good reason to feel depressed, sir."

"Thank you, Johann."

"You are welcome, sir. We will be at the Global North Alliance meeting shortly, Mr. President."

Staring out the window at the protestors, he saw Germanians getting ready for another foreign occupation.

Ropen sighed. As they sped away from the München government office, the old Prussen scanned for signs of that stray Agent Nichts.

Because of Himmler's arrest, Ropen would have to kill ol' General Rommel's favorite hunting dog, White Silver. It was what it was. President Ropen had put down a bitch before who had gotten rabies, and this one would be no different now her brain had gotten infected with whatever the Yalans had infected her with to make her act like a completely different person. Some Francois special ops had told him that they would make it look like an accident.

If it was anyone other than Agent Nichts/White Silver, the old politician could have asked Germanian agents to do the deed instead of stooping to rely on the Francois. Unfortunately, but as expected, the frogs had lost track of her. They knew she was somewhere in München because she had been spotted giving a speech to locals on how to stay safe during the occupation, but 'it was like she had vanished, the soldiers had reported.

The Germanians knew that there were secret bunkers and tunnels throughout the country, but the Francois soldiers wouldn't know where they were. No one knew them better than MI15's leader, who had busted countless drug smugglers and sex traffickers in those tunnels. The tunnels had been built during the American occupation of Germania after the Great War.

"We are here, sir."

Ropen sighed. There was still no sign of her.

"Where are you?"

"I am right here, sir," Johann commented as he opened the door for Ropen.

"I am sorry. I was just thinking aloud."

"Oh, no need to apologize to me, sir."

President Ropen smiled at his aide and then entered the Unified States Embassy building. The Americans spared no expense and opted for the Jeffersonian architecture of the landed gentry, which used to rule their country like proper aristocrats. Karl Ropen had a fondness for the Americans who knew that power came from owning the land. That was why the landed gentry who founded the Unified States had only given themselves the right to vote before the power that was theirs alone was stolen from them.

That was why the reformists in Ropen's own country had to be stopped with Rudolph Himmler before it was too late. The framers of the new Germanian government had gone way too far in changing the status quo, and now the peasants wanted to finish off getting rid of the aristocrats who had made Germania great by abolishing class. Did the peasants forget the hard work of Otto von Bismark and other geniuses? No, they simply were too uneducated even to know what aristocrats did for this country and why their very lives depended on the brains of those aristocrats with the privilege and obligation to run the country.

Karl Ropen personally put in a hefty investment to have an astroturfed 'left' publication, Die Rote Ursache, manipulate the communists and revolutionary socialists into sitting out the election. First, this fake paper kept bringing up the Social Democratic Party's hypocrisy and collaboration in the murder of Rosa Lindenburg and suppression of the Spartacus League. Then, it would push accelerationism, which was the idea that revolution would be easier if things got worse. With all these Leftists out of the election, Rudolph Himmler and his party would earn a larger portion of the election and gain legitimacy. In power, the industrialists' lap dog Himmler would kill all those eager communists who thought the rest of the electorate would join up in hands with them. Of course, these comfortable peasants wouldn't. Communists were hated for a reason — the aristocrats had a well-funded media machine and university system to keep anti-communism widespread.

There wasn't supposed to be a revolution, but the Abya Yalan revolution, MI15's reports, and the League of Nations' news channels had undermined the aristocrats' control over their peasants. Then, the Federation covertly invaded their country. If it was just the domestic socialists, Himmler or he could have eradicated them without trouble, but the Federation was far scarier than a handful of purposefully disrupted communist cells.

Karl Ropen was terrified of what might happen. Getting into the meeting room, he encountered a sea of friendly faces of other great men to which the world owed a great deal but had started to abuse and mistreat. Only among these people could the politician feel like himself and act like his real self instead of performing for the wider public. A few servants were walking around with carts serving food.
AD_4nXfbBY6Guev-YgcmDlfBd3rf7vUGI1UMMj2xmEJdkO-PtiY01aoyzJOqE_rZiceCc7id2xqAUsA8BLeIqNSujjgc6WZFfAtpeM4_fNk8X1mW7tdViLp-6TqTasIh1Ps9dQq7wkZkIQ

Artistic Approximation of the kind of people present at the Global North Alliance Meeting

Standing near the entrance, someone bumped into the President of Germania with a serving cart.

"Watch where you are going, pleb!" he called out.

But the person, a tall woman with harsh eyes and non-European features, kept pushing her cart. He swore he heard some kind of ticking that must have been a faulty wheel.

"Karl, over here," a man with a rapidly thinning mop of hair called out, distracting Ropen.

The Prussen tilted his head to see a surprising face — the leader of the Albish Labour Party.

"Mr. Hatel, is that you? What happened to Catcherlain?"

"Karl, we have known each other far too long. Call me Clement. As for Neber, the poor bloke's party didn't get enough votes in the election. We knew the people were done with the Tories, so we had to scramble to purge our radicals from our party before the election."

"Must have been a lot of work and caused quite a storm."

"It did, but along with arresting our anti-war voters, we were able to soften our victory enough to avoid destabilizing the status quo."

"It sounds like you did a wonderful job, old friend. In my opinion, the peasants are a selfish lot, only ever thinking about themselves and their stomachs, but never about us. That is why we have to look after ourselves."

"Much agreed, old bean. The commoners really need to learn how heavy the crown is, then they will realize how hard it really is to run a country. They have the luxury to complain, complain, complain. If they want socialism, they could just go over to the Federation, but they won't because the commoners know that without us orchestrating the dirty work of extracting all the luxury goods from the client-states, which the voters enjoy consuming, their quality of living will decrease."

"As I always say, we aristocrats are only a tiny, well-defended minority. We are less than one percent of the population. Still, we rich folk are all the socialists ever talk about in their perverse obsession with us and the private decisions we make for our governmental bodies that are none of their business. We also have so much to lose, and the peasants have nothing but the shirts off their backs and their lives. How can they possibly understand how we feel when they have never lost anything like us?"

"They can't," Hatel responded with a bit more vigor. Being with others of one's own kind really made all the chaos easier. "Do you think that if we gave them two shirts or a nice house, they would stop rebelling so much?"

"I am sure they would, but why should we have to suffer for them to follow the rules? We don't take orders from them. They should be listening to us! Not a single thing happens in our countries without us, and so we have to remember we have the power — not them!"

"You are right!" Hatel cheered. "Thanks, Karl. I knew talking to you would cheer me up."

"Any time, my friend. Now, let's go meet up with the others."

The two move away from the crowded entrance of the embassy meeting hall towards one of the cliches that had formed between the movers and shakers of aristocracy, industry, and finance. Ropen could see Menito Bussolini of Ildoa offering comfort to Charles Lintberg, an ambassador from the Unified States and the leader of the America First Committee.


View: https://youtu.be/kAtAMs614Jk?si=wQrJAiclV2i2rgJD&t=21

"Thanks so much, Mr. Bussolini," Lintberg stated as he got in close. A cameraman took their picture and then continued to do something more casual. "We have to thank you for that shipment of marble we needed."

"It really is not a big deal," Bussolini said to the American ambassador. "I am great friends with the architect. Your new Supreme Court building will be so beautiful when it has proper Ildoan marble in it and actually looks like it was plucked right out of the Ildoan Empire." (1)

"Once your judges start working," Ropen interjected, knowing he was welcome here. "They will pave the way to bring proper law and order back to your country."

"And Destiny Manifest," Bussolini added with a warm smile.

"Thanks, guys. I really needed something to bring me hope right now. Those mobs surrounded my house. Some were even chanting that they wanted to eat the rich. My family barely escaped with our lives and have taken shelter in one of our summer homes on the East Coast. The poors' primal screams still give me and the other members of the America First Committee nightmares."


View: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=D6YVrWQWDjo&si=0nREAgmKy4bDJTzK&t=16

"Those monsters! Don't they know words have consequences? They are trying to kill all of us, and for what — the crime of leading them and asking our proper compensation for our inheritance and deal-making."

The Prussen man was taken aback for a moment. In all the chaos of the civil war happening in Germania, he had forgotten that some of them had it far worse than him. It was very humbling.

"I was just talking to my old chap here," Hatel commented, trying to keep a positive note in his voice. "We only have each other, and it will be with solidarity that we will get through this hard time. No longer can we European and American aristocrats be fighting among each other with our armies. We have a common enemy now, and we will either fight together or fall."

"Well said, well said," Lintberg cheered while punching downwards toward the ground in defiance against the injustice of revolution. They all shared in the silly gesture, but in doing it, others took notice and started copying it in solidarity.

They all knew that compared to peasants, they had almost no power. The only thing that kept them safe was the compliance and pacification of the tyrannical majority.

Ropen had jitters standing so close to Bussolini. The Ildoan was an inspiration to all of them for what he had accomplished with his coup. Few believed they could pull off a dictatorship like his. As expensive as the theater of democracy was, it kept the peasants placated.

Yet, it seemed so liberating to imagine fascism, though — not having to pretend to be the servants of the public anymore. It would be a world without pretense, just unfiltered aristocracy. That was what everyone wanted deep down, just to be themselves. Such an existence would be so wonderful, too, but the prejudice against people like them was so awful. Those socialists wouldn't stop saying such hateful things and spreading the dogma of looting and unrest.

Soon after finishing their small, these movers and shakers gathered around the central desk.

"I have to thank all who gathered," Ropen began. "I know a lot of you had to take breaks from your valuable leisure time to come to help us Germanians as the Reds march on all of us. As many of you have probably noticed, the narrative from the League of Nations and United Front is that you all are criminals. The situation has never been more dire."

There were nods of approval all around.

Someone grumbled about how the aristocrats in Europa should have copied the Americans more by investing heavily in propagating a racialized sense of 'criminality' as the excuse to keep extensive slavery going in the 20th century. The Americans and Fascists really knew how to get rid of all the peasants who had enough backbone to use force to threaten the aristocrats. It would still take a generation or two before the well-fed livestock of middle-class consumers in Europa become completely domesticized. Learned helplessness was essential to preventing revolution. People had to believe that nothing could be done about their aristocrats killing commoners for any selfish reason while also believing that it was unforgivable to even think about killing aristocrats.

The Francois, in particular, had started to really get back to their roots lately. The peasants in Viet Bam would have their heads mounted on pikes outside their prisons. Soldiers would send pictures back to their loved ones of them, celebrating the proper policing of the peasantry. (2) It might be gruesome, but if you were too lenient with serfs, they would see that as a sign of weakness and might actually hurt a good person like those in this room.

But now it was time to make a demonstration of the communists in Germania.

"My attendant will keep this short for all of us before we can do the bidding."

Gesturing to Johann, who charged the computation orb on the table, an illusory map of Europa was displayed, and various places were highlighted.

"Right now, the areas we want to focus on," Johann stated. "First are the radio towers. The enemy is countering our propaganda. Before we officially begin our invasion of the stolen territory, we plan to take those out and then drown the area with fake newscasts to instill disorder in the region." (3)

The female server from earlier parked her cart near the center of the room, and then she pulled out a hair clip, twisted it a bit, and waved it over the silver dish cover like the hairclip was some kind of wand. He felt no mana coming off it.

His depressed and exhausted mind didn't really know how to process it, but his paranoia made him grab his computation orb in his pocket.

Then, the suspicious server just left the cart there and power-walked out of the meeting hall. No one else seemed to care or notice, so Ropen thought there must have been a reason for this or should get fired.

Click - an image of farms in the countryside of Germania.

"We have decided to import Agent Orange from America. Armies fight on their stomachs, so if we can cut off as much food from our enemy with this herbicide, we should be able to pacify them by winter."

Click - map view of Jugoslavja.

"Third, we have intelligence that several reports that Federation and United Front soldiers may be in Jugoslavja to the South East. While General Secretary Ditto states that his country is neutral, we have decided to revive Operation Menu and carpet bomb Jugoslavja. Our foreign policy experts believe that Hilary Brecht and the United Front might come to the negotiation table if we show how serious we are.

"To justify bombing the country back to the Stone Age, we have pinpointed the excuse of stopping an ethnic cleansing of a minority as the most salient with our domestic populations to manufacture sufficient consent. Our psychologists have recommended the term 'humanitarian bombings' to describe the new paradigm of propaganda.

"To head the operation, we have recruited Albion's Lt. Colonel Drake and will be deploying Trident to join up with him. We are calling it — Operation Merciful Angel."

Ropen knew from his secret agents that the Albish's super mage 'Trident' was untested, and many questioned if she would actually be able to perform. Still, if the people gathered didn't use every method available to them, the world would keep changing. Nothing was more terrifying to Ropen than the prospect of change and losing control over one's future.

Click - an image of agents infiltrating the United Front as they performed their anthem that Hilary Brecht wrote.

"We have also brought back Cointelpro from the Unified States to assist with the disruption of various groups within the United Front or KDP before they can do anything that threatens officials of the National Socialist Party or any of Germania's aristocracy."

Click, and an image of Georg Elser shows up.

"Second, Francois intelligence has determined that a group headed to Essen aims to—"

Click - now an image of a woman identified as 'Ramona Mercer - alias Francine Pegahmagabow - the Obijwe Sniper'.

Ropen ducked under the table and knocked it over. People screamed as he yelled at everyone to get down. He barely had time to pull Johann to his side and deploy his mage barrier before—

Kaaaaabbooooooooommmmm.


Off the Shore of Okenava Naval Base, Akitsuhima Dominion, in an Albish Submarine

"What do you mean we are deploying Trident now? She isn't ready."

"The United Front blew up the U.S. Embassy in München, killing most of the leaders of the Global North Alliance."

"But we haven't stabilized her yet after her last outburst caused her to become afraid of hurting her family and shut down."

"The Allied Forces are already marching into Germania, and they want Merciful Angel to start right away. If we don't get this supermage deployed, it will be the backup one."

No one on the submarine could stomach the idea of unleashing Omega — the Angel of Vengeance — Friendly Fire Personified — Mary 'Anyone but Her' Sue.

"I will get Canary deployed ASAP, sir!"



Citations:
  1. Craven, Jackie. About the U.S. Supreme Court Building. Architecture and Symbolic Sculpture at the Highest Court, 1935. thoughtco.com. December 27, 2018. <https://www.thoughtco.com/us-supreme-court-building-by-cass-gilbert-177925#:~:text=It%20is%20said%20that%20Gilbert's,the%20iconic%20structure%20was%20completed.>
  2. Vann, Michael G. "Of pirates, postcards, and public beheadings: the pedagogic execution in French colonial Indochina." Historical Reflections/Réflexions Historiques, vol. 36, no. 2, summer 2010, pp. 39+. Gale Academic OneFile, <link.gale.com/apps/doc/A233826807/AONE?u=anon~518c13a1&sid=googleScholar&xid=bcf5bedc> Accessed 16 Nov. 2024.
  3. Central Intelligence Agency. Notes On Radio Broadcasting - Guatemala. 25 January 1954. <https://www.cia.gov/readingroom/docs/DOC_0000917063.pdf>
  4. FBI. Cointelpro. fbi.gov <https://vault.fbi.gov/cointel-pro>
 
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Bombs Away, Part 2
A section for those who want more historical context and analysis. The WNN is going to be biased against the West. We will get back to Tanya and Sonnetto in the next chapter.


World News Network TV Broadcast - September 1954 - Moments before news of the Global North Alliance Bombing Breaks (1, 2, 3)

Interviewer: Hello, Dr. Larenti. Thank you for taking the time to talk to us on such short notice. We at WNN and the public at large are very curious to get your expert opinion on what the Global North Alliance (GNA) plans are for Jugoslavja.

Larenti: Yes, the situation is extremely urgent as we see all the member states of GNA ramp up their propaganda machines to ready their populations for a multilateral decimation of the Eastern Orthodox-majority half of the Jugoslavja. President Ropen of Germania and President Billards of the Francois Republic have backed the monarchist faction in the Legalist-majority western half of the Jugoslavja. This concerted effort to destabilize the communist country could result in its complete collapse.

Interviewer: Doesn't the GNA's intervention go against the League of Nations' statutes?

Larenti: Yes, but it is important to note that the GNA was the response of the major capitalist powers against the rising power in the Socialist majority in the League of Nations and to bypass the League of Nations' Security Council, which often rules against them.

Interviewer: What would you say is the goal of the GNA's planned military intervention in Jugoslavja?

Larenti: For starters, they want to prevent the United Front in Northern Germania from going through a potentially friendly communist country to strike at Ropen's Southern Germania.

More importantly, this is a continuation of the GNA's campaign to dismantle and recolonize the Socialist East systematically. Take, for example, the collapse of Lostia, where the last supposedly communist president went against the popular referendum and dissolved parliament so he could institute Silver Legion's policy of Shock Therapy, where the country rapidly transitioned to oligarchy. State-owned capital was quickly sold to the highest bidder or given to allies and friends. People went from having rents take up 5% of their monthly income to 66% as the plutocrats that run the GNA swooped into vultures to exploit the population, which was defenseless from the most depraved excesses of profiteering. Agriculture was set up to feed the domestic population and quickly shifted to cash crops to be shipped to GNA member states to fuel their economy's dependence on consuming ever more for growth. 30% of the population over 30 in Lostia found themselves homeless and starving. Life expectancy was halved.

Furthermore, the GNA managed the elections, education, and press in Lostia to make sure only pro-West, pro-capitalist and revisionist history was presented to the public. In short, just like the Silver Legion tried to do in their own country, the GNA has started salting the soil to prevent socialism from ever emerging again.

I suspect the plan for Jugoslavja is the same, but with the Francois Republic involved, I believe the plan is to break up the country into smaller, more manageable parts like the Republic did with Central Afrika. So, in summation, the GNA's plan is to escalate the conflict until the entire region is so decimated and battered that it becomes dependent on the GNA, which will socially and economically re-engineer whatever remains of Jugoslavja into something that suits their vampiric economies.

Interviewer: 'Vampiric economies' — that is strong language for the West. Earlier, you mentioned propaganda. The Ambassador for Jugoslavja to the League of Nations has sent a letter to the League of Nations. In it, he condemned coverage in the West of the mounting conflict in his country, claiming the situation is, and I quote, 'the brutality of accusations, no longer represent propaganda but border on psychopathology'. Viewers can read the letter on the screen, but I have a copy for you as well, Dr. Larenti.
AD_4nXehiST_FufTas0k9ArN5F4dhTh488hTJc_hvJL130xf8ZTOKz4yeW2NTKYuwJNiUejulNwriy4Q-di3omo89Su96LtAvel_poUQtNqz3JemWnVPGN4wBmgPSV-PK8WpKvb6JxkV4A

(Source: Ambassador Draomir Djokic's Letter to United Nations in 1993) (3)

For those reading along at home, there is no evidence of the Orthodox forcibly impregnating Legalists with dog embryos. Also, it is biologically impossible for humans to give birth to dogs or human-dog hybrids, including people with animal-like mutations from mana poisoning.

Larenti: Policy experts around the world are disturbed by the blatant disregard for truth shown by GNA countries. I would like to say I was surprised when I first saw their coverage, but I am not. No matter how much the West attempts to distance themselves from the now disgraced Silver Legion, they keep using Pulitzer's strategies. Even politicians who condemned the anti-Heartist rhetoric of Himmler and the propaganda techniques of Gobbels are now using the same techniques of repetitious and ubiquitous falsehoods to manufacture consent in their domestic populations for genocidal interventions. Himmler and the NSP's Blood Libel against the Heartists has now become the Faithful Democratic Union's Dog Libel against the Orthodox. This is quite literally tabloid nonsense.

What we are seeing is that the Western press and political apparatus are in the middle of a multilateral campaign to dehumanize the Orthodox. The Dog Libel is just the beginning. We are manufacturing mass rape camps and all sorts of inhumane experiments without evidence. While rape does happen during war, Interpol has found no evidence to back up GNA's countless ludicrous claims, which are intended to make eradicating half of Jugoslavja justified. Also, like the National Socialist Party, the Ropen and his FDU conservative coalition have backed the Legalist separatists in their predations on the Orthodox ethnicities. Any and all crimes committed by the Orthodox are being magnified and blasted across the airwaves in Europa, while the ones done by the Legalists are being suppressed or not covered at all. If you were in the Francois Republic, you would led to believe that the Orthodox are monsters preying on poor, defenseless Legalists. Yes, there are war crimes on both sides, but the Orthodox are not monsters, and the Legalists are not innocent.

In other words, the European leaders have stacked the deck so that no matter what major political party one follows or which major newspaper their citizens read, any rational person with those 'facts' will conclude that military intervention is justified. The saddest thing about this is that today, the Legalists will be allies, but if the GNA had interests in the Middle East or North Afrika, suddenly, the Legalists would be suddenly gone from being innocent victims to horrible, backward monsters on par with the Silver Legion.

At the end of the day, most people are fundamentally the same. Everyone can be indoctrinated — secular or religious, capitalist or socialist. If people want the amount of rape and carnage to decrease, they should advocate for de-escalation, but even if the anti-war sentiment is high among the population, we see time and time again that the Western governments and media are so beholden to the interests of the richest men who stand to get even more wealthy if they can gobble up the Socialist East and then extract even more rents on the rest of us who have live on this planet.

Interviewer: You keep making comparisons to the now-disgraced National Socialist Party of Germania and its leader, Rudolph Himmler. European leaders, including many in the FDU, have since come out condemning Himmler after Agent Nichts released her report. What is your reasoning for making this connection between the centrists and the fascists?

Larenti: It is important to note that Himmler and people like Ropen have meaningful differences, but it is more a matter of the scale and, crucially, the location of their ambitions. Ropen is willing to work with oligarchs in other nations against common enemies in the East. Ropen believed he could control Himmler and the NSP, but MI15's report made oligarchs in the Francois Republic and Allied Kingdom skeptical that they could keep Himmler pointed towards the East. I swear MI15's report on the Silver Legion intentionally drew uncanny parallels with the German fascist movement. Right now, though, because these oligarchs across Europa have a common enemy in the League of Nations and the Socialist East, the rallying cry to rescue Himmler from his supposedly unjust arrest by Agent Nichts.

As for the connection, MI15 made that connection abundantly clear in their investigation, which is why the starling of Western Democracy has become a source of much ridicule behind closed doors. Interpol uncovered that the coal magnate Karl Klick, who was architecting Himmler's concentration camps for slave labor, had bribed all the major political parties of Germania, including some of the Social Democratic Party but particularly Ropen's coalition. I believe the press is calling this the Klick Affair.

While Western Liberal democracies might treat their domestic populations kindly, they are completely ruthless on the international stage. The Silver Legion Report indicated that the GNA would have dropped double the number of bombs and explosion formulae on just Viet Bam than were dropped on Europa and Asia in the Great War had there been a falling out between the Silver Legion and the other countries in the GNA. (4) Intelligence leaks indicate that GNA plans to carpet bomb Jugoslavja, which is a war crime forbidden by the League of Nations charter. Only the Unified States of Eastern America technically have the ability to commit such war crimes because they are not signers of the Remulus treaty.

Interviewer: But Interpol wouldn't let them do that would they?

Larenti: I would hope not. Given Agent Nichts' stance on stopping the Silver Legion before, I could see MI15 maneuvering to stop the GNA here.

Interviewer: Agent Nichts has historically been a strong ally of GNA, but lately, it seems that politicians in the West have started denouncing her. What changed?

Larenti: What changed was the Captain of MI15's willingness to go against the aims of Western Democracies. It started in 1950 when her team kept going against them. The last straw was her temporarily the Allied Kingdom and Silver Legion's plot to illegally instigate a coup through the theocratic monarchists in the Persian Empire.

Interviewer: Just like the GNA's tactics in Jugoslavja, where they are backing the Legalist Monarchists.

Larenti: Exactly. The GNA talks about a big game of democracy and liberalism, but its actions don't match their words. The liberal talking points act as a smokescreen. 'See, I am talking about freedom and democracy, not like those Silver Legion monsters'. The focus in Western propaganda is all appearances, and it gives their local populations the peace of mind that their politicians are good people when they are chasing after the same profit motives as the industrialists who backed the fascist movements.

This smokescreen of liberal values also allows the GNA to stack the deck of facts that suit their narrative by keeping the focus away from both the relevant history that came before and the consequences after GNA's interventions. I predict that in a few decades, after people have forgotten about GNA's hand in the Persian and Jugoslavja coups, capitalist Europa will paint the Legalists as intrinsically theocratic and backward to instigate anti-Legalist prejudice before invading the Middle East to secure oil reserves.

Interviewer: But there is evidence of ethnic cleansing efforts in Jugoslavja. Indeed, are you not saying this is all just propaganda?

Larenti: Of course not, but it is essential also to see that the GNA does not care about ethnic cleanings. The Ottoman Republic is part of the GNA, too, and that country is actively attempting to genocide its Curd population. The other GNA countries have no problems providing the Ottoman Republic with more funds, computation orbs, and bombs, which are being used to accelerate their eradication of the Curds, if the Ottoman leadership also plays the plausibly deniable middleman in some of the more egregious bombings of the Orthodox in Jugoslavja.

Interviewer: Why do you think the Federation has not gotten more actively involved in these satellite conflicts until the situation in Germania?

Larenti: Simple — they are spread thin. The Federation is doing everything it can, from supporting South Afrikans to end apartheid to alleviating the famine in Zhangzi to providing material support to Abya Yala to get its government off its feet to assist in the rebuilding of Viet Bam and Eastern Persia. What makes Germania different is that it borders on the psychotic capitalist powers and has the most developed industry in the entire world. Without Germania's assistance, the empires would crumble. Remember, the Great War resulted in a lot of colonies seizing an opportunity to get independence while the European countries were weakened.

Interviewer: According to GNA, the Russy Federation is the real empire expanding its reach to encompass the world. What do you say to that?

Larenti: For starters, I am just a foreign policy expert from Abya Yala, so I can't speak on behalf of any country. My support of the Federation's efforts in helping countries around the world against the West is qualified. Of course, I criticize the Federation. There are even monarchists in the Middle East I support because they are fighting back against imperial occupation, but I know enough to support everything they believe.

If we become neutral or withdraw our support due to ideological purity tests, we will end up sitting on our hands while the ruling class wins again and again. These oligarchs want their citizens to go silent when pressured to first condemn the Federation for this or that decontextualized action. If you don't condemn, you are dismissed as defending war crimes and can be ignored. It is a lose-lose scenario that only works when the oligarchs control the conversation by owning the media companies or running the government. Look how the disproportional number of war crimes of the NGA and its allies are obscured. These journalists quickly start dissembling and falling into whataboutism whenever these crimes come up because they have to keep the focus on the crimes of one group and away from their country. Controlling the conversation, picking the guests, and standing on their reputation as 'official' sources gives them immense power to shape public opinion and perceptions of conflicts.

In comparing the Russy Federation and the Global North Alliance, the Russy Federation is by far the lesser of the two evils in my eyes. Again, it is essential to distinguish between how the Global North Alliance treats its domestic populations and how it treats the rest of the world. It might be nice here in the Francois Republic, but if you were working in one of their textile factories in Viet Bam, the treatment is far worse there than the dreary grayness the Federation's public housing projects that the Francois press loves to mock. People flee the Federation for the West mostly because they are following the wealth, not unlike the countless people from the exploited capitalist client-states. Note that those from the capitalist client states and colonies can come to the West and finally enjoy the luxuries extracted from their countries, where those goods are often not available to them.

For an easy comparison between the Federation and GNA: take assassinating world leaders. It is well known that the GNA countries have actively been trying to assassinate socialist, communist, and even some liberal leaders who aren't under their thumb. Do these socialist countries declare war on the West when this happens? No. Do the Western leaders shed a tear when one of them successfully kills a socialist leader? No. But if a Western leader were to be assassinated like this, not only would it be war, but armageddon for the perpetrator.

Interviewer: What about so-called 'class traitors' — wait a minute, we are getting breaking news. (Her face goes deathly pale as her computation orb transmits a message into her mind.)

Larenti: What is it?

Interviewer: The Global North Alliance Conference, which was being held in München, has been bombed. Germania's President, Karl Ropen, has survived, but Menito Bussolini, Clement Hatel, and several ambassadors have died, including a US Ambassador.

Larenti: Do we know who did the bombing?

Interviewer: We were told it was the Orthodox faction of Jugoslavja, with help from the United Front.

Larenti: Who is your source?

Interviewer: The report came from the GNA.



Citations:
  1. Parenti, Michael. To Kill A Nation: The Attack on Yugoslavia. London, New York : Verso, 2000.
  2. Parenti, Michael. Blackshirts and Reds. 1997
  3. Djokic, Dragomir. Letter dated 3 February 1993 from the Charge d'affaires a.i. of the Permanent Mission of Yugoslavia to the United Nations addressed to the Secretary-General
  4. In real life, the US and its allies did drop more than double the number of bombs on Vietnam than what was dropped on Europe and Asia during WWII - Thomas, Cooper, Esri's StoryMaps team. Bombing Missions of the Vietnam War. Storymaps.arcgis.com. <https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/2eae918ca40a4bd7a55390bba4735cdb>
The song on my mind when writing this chapter.


View: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=Smlg7sPUmRs&si=wH_W7MBHKejl4FxT
 
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Chapter 23: The Pact of the Philosopher King
Previously on Mages of Interpol 15:
  • Tanya and Sonnetto traveled through their family bonds with Calamity Amb to get to her sister, Mary Canary.
  • MI15 needs to free Mary from Albish control in a desperate attempt to de-escalate before super weapons are used by the Russy Federation or Global North Alliance in the Germanian and Jugoslav Civil War.
  • Matheus Weiss, Ramona Mercer, and Rex Magnus are hiding in a secret bunker in München while Tanya and Sonnetto are on their journey in the Soul dimension.


Soul Space - The Republic of the Philosopher King in the Cave

Alexander Magnus sat upon his golden throne while his advisors advised and his guards guarded him. The smell of wine wafted up to his nose as a server served him. Even his old teacher Aristotle was there walking around with students like he always did, philosophizing as philosophers did to learners who learn and will become philosophers one day. Everyone in the Cult of Power was where they were supposed to be in his utopian Republic within his soul space.

Well, not everyone. No one knew but him and his most trusted confidants that Mary Canary (the Hero of Beginnings) had ended him and trapped them all in a cave within her soul space. The truth would frighten them and cause unrest. It was better for those who lacked the wisdom to handle such harsh realities to believe their god-king was undefeatable. It was much safer for people not to know his weaknesses because it was in knowing his Achilles heel that Mary had known how to slay him. People might think his strength was unreliable. They might even switch allegiances to one of the other Twelve Gods.

That would be problematic for Alexander, for his power came from the size of his cult. He needed as many souls of his cult as possible to divert from the reincarnation process and live within his soul space to have as much power as possible. With that power, he could make his global hegemony without war and strife a reality. A world where no one had to worry about their future or hunger, and everything would be planned by the wise and learned well before they were born. Predetermination from their immortal god who loved them and was perfect in every way, except he did get jealous of those who strayed to the other cults.

Artificial lights had to be created so people could see, and his poets spun a myth to explain why the sky had disappeared.

"Your majesty, we have found outsiders in the kingdom who are not loyal to power," a guard announced. "They claim they seek a Mary Canary and wish to speak to you in order to find her.

Alexander looked up from his scroll to see two women being escorted by guards — one extremely familiar to him and the other a stranger.

"Release them," he commanded. "And everyone, please leave us. I wish to speak to them in private."

His advisors and guards shared looks, but all knew that if wisdom was to lead this kingdom, it must be obeyed over their private feelings.

When they were gone, Alexander approached the familiar woman. Her luxurious black hair was tucked inside her headscarf. How he often gave her the most excellent shampoos within the empire so that her hair would shine and have such a wonderful scent during his brief times back home. Her luxurious clothes befitted her as a princess.

She lifted a hand, stopping him. His former wife, Roxanne, was saying something. He was confused.

"Sonnetto, I don't think he can hear you."

Sonnetto…oh…

He blinked, and whatever mirage that was around 'Roxanne' dissipated. An almost pointedly not princess-like woman stood in her place. This Sonnetto seemed a bit older than the Roxanne he had met on their wedding night. Her hair, now white, was cut very short. She had a jacket, tank top, baggy cargo, and work shoes. It was definitely not to his liking in the slightest, but it wasn't like Sonnetto was trying to appeal to him. Were these the clothes that she liked?

"Tigers?" he commented, referring to the Akinese symbol on a sports jacket. He had already advanced enough in his divinity to be able to read and understand all languages.

The unfamiliar woman blushed.

"Tanya," Sonnetto chuckled. "It is fine. It is chilly up here anyway. Though you really have baseball on your mind right now."

"Well, the news is that the Albish are teaching the Akinese cricket! History in this world is all messed up."

Now, things made sense. This shorty was Tanya the Myth, the Goddess of Legends and the Unknown, and holder of the Mantle of Faith. In the ancient scrolls, the Mythmaker was the protector of souls and could visit her cult through the passages between them, so the fact that they had found his soul no longer surprised him. Sonnetto must have used her connection to him to travel to his soul to save him from Mary Canary.

Alexander's heart swelled with a chance to reconnect with someone he missed dearly.

Then, the white-haired officer glanced back at him, who was stunned by this being what they were talking about in his throne room. Then, Sonnetto pulled the shorter woman into a hug in front of him.

"Roxanne is dead, Alex, and I do not love you."

His heart sank somewhat, even though he already knew that deep down. The King adjusted his posture and demeanor.

"I apologize, Sonnetto. It is hard, as you can imagine, for me. My heart may have stopped beating, but my reason still wrestles with my passions and their many illusions."

He lifted his hand to the location on his cuirass, which hid the bullet wound where Mary Canary had shot him in his moment of weakness. In his spirit form, his body appeared to be made out of marble. He was the image of perfect aside from this notable blemish that reflected his failure.

"Perhaps you would have been a better husband and father had you listened to your heart more," Sonnetto criticized.

Was she always so brutal?

"The passions are the luxuries of those with little responsibility," the monarch of his own little soul world retorted. "For everyone else, reason is what gets the bread on the table and keeps the children safe. Too much heart and you are liable to follow your fancies into all sorts of folly."

Sonnetto took a step forward while still holding onto her partner. Tanya was literally stuck between the two of royal blood as they went back and forth. Alexander could tell Sonnetto had a lot she wanted to say to him.

"Was it the reason that guided you to conquering my homeland?"

"Yes. If I am to bring peace to the world, violence must be done, but no more than what was necessary."

"Why does reason require you to be king and not someone else?"

"The same reason why you cannot just simply choose not to be the daughter of Oxyartes or me the son of my father. I was born a king and a god, and I must wield this power to protect those loyal to me."

"Was it the reason that made you take Roxanne from her family and wed her?"

"Wait? Is that what you think happened?"

The gross distortion of fact threw him off.

"Of course, I do because that is what happened."

He sighed. "I am sorry I gave you that impression, but that is not what happened. Your family was terrified. Oxyartes sided with Bessus, who had committed the crime of overthrowing a monarch. For the sake of peace, I had wedded you…Roxanne, I mean. It was the same reason I made a big deal of worshipping at every shrine to prove I respected and would protect those in the territory I conquered. My wedding with Roxxane assured her family that they could trust that I would protect them and wouldn't seek to punish them because why would I hurt my own family? Marriage for us royals is the art of peacemaking and uniting our lands together in one family. Had we lived in a perfect world where they could see I was a wise man who would lead them justly and kindly, I would not have to address their feelings with such an auspicious gesture like marriage."

"So Roxanne was a gesture to you."

"Please, stop looking for ill intent where there is none, my…I mean, Sonnetto. You know what I mean."

"I find it hard to believe you cared about her or your son."

Sonnetto stepped forward again. Her crimson eyes were full of passion for things that make no sense. What had happened to her that had put her so on edge? Where were all these displaced feelings of resentment coming from?

"Roxy…I mean, Sonnetto, I loved Roxanne and Junior deeply, even if you did not love me back."

"But you left on campaign after campaign, leaving her and your son behind with those wolves."

"Is this all about Cassander? I had no choice in the matter. He was a friend of my father. Do you think I wanted him to poison my mother and the two of you? If you hadn't killed him, I was going to."

Sonnetto went quiet at that.

Then, a shove of mana-like wave pushed the two of them away from each other. Standing betwixt the two royals was a slightly irate Captain Tanya von Weiss.

"As much as I think the two of you need to talk, we do not have time to discuss family matters right now," the short woman stated clearly and professionally. "Mr. Magnus, would you please provide guidance to Mrs. Canary? Our mission is quite urgent."

Alexander adjusted his posture and demeanor again, but this time to something more formal. With his attention directed at her entirely, the man could sense her many fears. Tanya was terrified of dying and leaving Sonnetto to a cycle of reincarnation without her. She was afraid of Being X returning and ruining her life and the lives of everyone she cared about. Even more profound than that, she dreaded that she might not have control over her fate.

These fears are what he can work with.

"I cannot guide you per se," he began, "But you can remove the barrier between my domain and hers if one of you does one of two things."

"What is that?"

"Your first option is to accept me into your soul domain," Alexander explained while extending a hand. "With my soul in yours, the cave of which I and my cult are all prisoners will disappear."

He was lying a bit, but one did not keep one's power without a bit of a silver tongue. The cultists could leave the cave if they found the exit where they could join Mary's cult or pass on into the cycle of reincarnation again. Only he was actually trapped here.

"I am curious about this cult business," Sonnetto stated as she once again went to Tanya's side as if the two were magnetized to each other.

Was she just performing this lovey-doveyness to make it clear that she loved Tanya and not him? Love was not like that in his experience. He loved her and his third wife dearly, as did Patroclus, who gave his life defending Alexander during one of his moments of weakness. Love was neither finite nor threatened by others, for what one felt was either of those things, then it was not love.

"We can talk about those things [cults] another time," Tanya interjected as she instinctually leaned into Sonnetto.

The terror of losing Sonnetto flowed through Tanya so much that it was as if her very body sought confirmation that she was there regularly. It was more than that, though. It was a confirmation that someone loved her — a person she loved who loved her back — a person she had feared did not exist. Around this central fear were Tanya's concerns that if she didn't act in an expected way, this love would flee her. These fears had left scars upon her soul that only Alexander could see with his divine powers, and in them, he saw that at least Tanya was healing.

When the ancient scrolls said that all of us gods were cut from the same cloth, it was not lying. How terribly similar are the two of us?

"So how do we go about this transfer of ownership?" the shorter woman inquired with urgent patience.

"You accept my deal."

"A deal?"

"Yes," he replied with a smile, extending a hand. "I will give you the power to shape the future. No more will you have to worry about fascism or communism. A few throws of my mighty lightning bolt, and at the speed of light, your foes will fall. No one will be able to withstand your might, and with some subtly, no one will have to know it is you shaping events behind the scenes."

Tanya started to reach for his hand as he finished his offer.

"In exchange, you will do one thing for me — become the leader of Europa as the Lord of Faith intended."

She suddenly withdrew it.

"A price too great for you?" he wondered. "If you run away from your destiny in fear, you will only cause more tragedy, dear."

"Don't call her 'dear', Alex," Sonnetto interjected. "That so-called Lord has no sway over this world anymore, and the world is better off without god-kings."

"Is it?" he replied rhetorically. "It sure seems to be doing quite awfully without us immortals guiding them."

"No one is better than anyone else," the white-haired officer retorted rather dogmatically.

"You say that, but I can see that not everyone here agrees," the dead king commented, gesturing towards her lover, who kept silent. "We have so many advantages over ordinary mortals. Effortlessly, we will retain our memories. In our souls, we can even create afterlives where our worshipers may choose to reside once we open the gates to let them in. There, they can advise us. Our long lives allow us to avoid the problems that changing leaders causes — namely, we don't have to stumble our way through making the same mistakes over and over again. Think about it — no more debating over all sorts of made-up nonsense and no more having to convince a bunch of fools to enact the laws you know will make life better for all. These fools, mind you, are so misinformed that they shouldn't be anywhere near a ballot box. Also, wouldn't you want the ability to sweep away all the corrupt leaders who profit off the war and suffering of their citizens? How many elections are you willing to roll the dice upon until another Yockey or Himmler comes along and wins? Wouldn't it be better to never risk it?"

"Tanya, explain to him why he is wrong," Sonnetto urged, deferring for a reason.

Why?

Alexander let his mandate senses extend towards the homunculus. She was afraid of dictatorships and tyrants — of men, specifically, being monsters, abusers, and rapists. She saw people having power over her as a threat to her safety and freedom. Understandable fears, given her past. He wished he understood that Sonnetto and Roxanne harbored these feelings earlier. Perhaps then he would have avoided hurting them. As the saying goes, 'If you love someone, you have to be willing to let them go.'

He glanced between the two, and suddenly, there was another feeling he could latch onto in order to get a deal made.

"We can discuss the countless demerits of democracy later," he stated, retaking the reigns of the conversation. "If your partner here is not willing to accept my offer of power, what about you, Sonnetto?"

He extended his right hand to her, and she stared at it like it was covered in shit.

Rude. I have been nothing but nice.

"You have been afraid that your life will never go back to normal because the world will not leave you alone. You want to go back to your pleasant, peaceful life. Unfortunately, society only sees a couple that they don't understand. No matter how 'civilized' these democracies are, they are filled with cruel majorities who will never stop marginalizing you. You are wise enough to see the constant battle with society and will recycle the same bigotry time and time again to cause you suffering or demand you abandon your differences to become like them. You and I come from a pastoral society with our harems, kings, expectations of fidelity from women, and queerness among men. We follow the mother's right to the children, unlike those stuffy, restrictive, monogamous patriarchal pairings of European society. With my power, you can secure your way of life. Write the laws you think will be fair for all."

"Like polygamous patriarchies are any better?" Sonnetto interjected, derailing the conversation.

He raised an eyebrow. "In some ways, yes. Is a patriarch offended if his wives find each other's company preferable to his own as long as they bear him children? You must know that once you give the man the right to the children so he can pass his wealth to his son, women become little more than property. In our pastoral kingdom, the men work and defend the city. Bisexuality socializing is common among them. Women stay with the patriarchs because by protecting their leaders, they know their families will continue. Do you condemn the anthill for having a queen? Then why should you begrudge a pastoral society for making a strategic arrangement that is best for all its members so they can survive the next war, natural disaster, or famine."

"Why can't women have a say in their lives?" Sonnetto clapped back. "Why have patriarchs at all?"

"It was a product of division of labor and who has the power to defend whom," he replied. "If you go to barbaric societies, they have plenty of matriarchs, but once you secure stable food, women become busy with reproductive labor like birthing, teaching, and economics [managing the estate] while men have their productive labor in the fields, pastures, and war. If you are heavy with a child, it is hard to do productive labor, and so physics sends you home."

"We shouldn't be consigned to such a life if we don't want to be some home-bound baby factory, and it is precisely because you decided your duty was to go to war that Rex never got to see you."

"Rex?" he got caught off guard, losing his prepared response.

"Your son. He was brought back as a homunculus and still sees you as his father."

While Alexander had several children, the son he had with Roxanne was his heir. He had left the boy to be raised by Olympia and Roxanne, but it was his duty to transfer the way of kings upon his heir.

He had a ton of questions, but Tanya's mind must have been elsewhere. "Europa has changed a lot in the last couple of decades," she added. "Women are property anymore."

Alexander reoriented himself before responding. "Oh, really. Who in their households controls the banks? Who makes the financial decisions typically? Which kind of pairings are recognized and which are rejected? How often are the wives abused and policed by paranoid husbands when they come back from work? Whose surname do the children get? Is it sons or daughters who inherit property typically? How often are women objectified in your culture? Do you still have mail-order and trophy wives dressed up in pearls to be shown off? As much as you complain about pastoral civilizations, seeing women as someone to protect must be better than seeing someone to exploit and own."

"Protected like a shepherd protects his herd?" the woman with wavy hair countered with calm, business-like energy. "Power to protect is also power to control and subjugate, and all of those criticisms of yours are being reformed. Women have bank accounts now. We outlawed domestic abuse, though we still have a ways to go actually to enforce those laws."

"And the recognition of supposedly 'non-standard' relationships?"

Tanya went quiet as he went close to home. The waves roiled with frustrated energy.

"Sex is an important life activity for most people," he lectured. "It policing in your society is strictly a matter of securing inheritance and accumulation of wealth. I ask you, who are the people fighting for the rights of women in your country?"

Tanya paused. "We have Hilary Brechts and the scientific humanitarians."

"And what party are most of the women in parliaments of European countries?"

The small woman refused to answer.

"I already know the answer — they are those barbary-loving communists who think the original sin of humankind is a hunter-gatherer putting down roots and having men like me defend our families. At least, these commies know that the reduction of women to property was the worst thing that happened to women. They know that bringing women into this pursuit of wealth has led to funneling women who do go into the workforce into the reproductive and domestic labor of teaching, housework, textiles, sex work, and medical assistants. In Europa, men used the unpaid labor of their wives and daughters to add to the wealth that would handed to their sons.

"Having the power to seek wealth like European men do is why the two of you wear pants." The two of them looked at him like he had the most punchable of faces for some reason. Still, he would not be deterred. "Like others, you seek power over your lives, so embrace the fashions of the powerful, which is to say, men. As for dresses, they make you feel subordinated and locked in the house. Sonnetto's swords and short hair are an awful lot of overcompensation. In your shunning of traditional femininity, the two of you have become ever more entrapped in the worship of the power. These radical socialists you fear so much, Tanya, are leading your people out of the insidious way private property hurts them and their relationships, causing endless fights and divorces."

"Liberals are also leading the fight, too."

"The only reason why any liberal social reforms are going through is because so many people in your society have nothing to inherit. That is also why Europeans become more conservative as they get older and accumulate property and why so many in the middle class are so fond of that Himmler blowhard. That monarch-wannabe has vowed to bring back so-called 'traditional family values', which is just another way of referring to the mythology around private property inheritance.

"If you want to liberate women and homosexuals such as yourself, Tanya, you have to do away with inheritance, and good luck with that. Parents will be up in arms to defend their right to pass on their wealth and all the freedoms money allows them to have in the property-defined societies of Europa."

"We have gotten really off-topic," Sonnetto stated. "Finish your offer, but I doubt you will convince me."

"We are gods," Alexander replied. "Taking our time is not our luxury but duty. You will find rushing into situations far more foolish than listening to wise teachers."

"Only fools call themselves wise," the crimson-eyed Interpol officer reported. "Come on, Alex. Out with it, and keep it brief as a proper economy of words is the domain of wise people."

"Well said, Sonnetto." He took a deep breath. "Simply stated, adding my power and wisdom to yours will make you superior to Tanya."

The woman of average height went still. She knew enough that his power gave him insights into people's fears as well as their ambitions.

"Superior to me?" the short stack inquired, looking at Sonnetto. It was as if Tanya was peering into Sonnetto's very soul. "What—Why are you worried about being inferior to me? Do you know what I had to go through to master my magic to this extent? Wait…"

Sonnetto blushed, ashamed of herself. Tanya was at a loss for words.

"I am sorry," the homunculus stated.

"You were happy when I couldn't use computation orbs anymore? You were happy when I didn't have the Type-95 anymore? All of this because it made me depend on you more."

"I'm sorry, dear. I just felt like I could never reach you and be in the same world. Seeing you struggle made it easier to believe you could see that I loved you and that I could stand at your side as an equal."

"So what will it be, Sonnetto," he added, keeping things going. "You can finally be the smarter one, stronger one. You will be second to none. With our powers combined, no one will be able to restrain or overpower you."

"But your curses?"

"If you don't want my curses, simply release my soul back into the cycle of reincarnation."

"You will promise to be there for Rex."

"If he lets me. I really want to speak to him at least once before I get reborn. Will you please find me when that happens? I really do want to return to the land of the living."

"What happens to all of this." Tanya waved her hand toward the city Alexander had painstakingly created in his soul. It wasn't like he had anything else to do, and if he had a flaw, it was that he could be a perfectionist.

"They will be fine. My soul will be intact."

Sonnetto squinted at him. "Why don't they know who Mary Canary is? Her soul is just outside of this."

"They know what they need to know."

The woman who shared the face with his former wife frowned deeply at him. "Roxanne heard that enough during her life, and I know you are taking advantage of your subjects through their ignorance. They really don't know your power comes from them, do they?"

His silence damned him.

Her demeanor became much more confident. "How about this deal — you give me access to your power and knowledge and talk to Rex, but I will only accept if you let your cult know the truth."

His face paled. "That will make both of us weaker. You know that."

"Would you rather I tell them you are lying, or would you prefer to prove your kingly virtue by admitting to your faults and weaknesses?"

That was a low blow. Everyone had insecurities that they hid, and the more you had to lose, the more you had to hide. Arrogance and bluster were merely the conspicuous performance of not having weaknesses.

He started to withdraw his hand.

"Don't you want to be free of Mary and this cave prison she made to limit your influence?" the white-hair officer pressed, revealing that she also had divine insight into his heart.

It was a curiosity how Sonnetto had gotten such a power. Then, it clicked that Tanya had passed the eleventh godhood to the white-haired woman.

Before he could accept the soul pact, the shorty grabbed her beloved's hand to stall the deal once again.

"Sonnetto, do you really think it would be wise to have his soul in yours?" Tanya pressed with worry on her face.

"We don't have time to think about those consequences."

His vision saw Tanya fear Sonnetto changing too much and losing the woman she loved to his influence. It wasn't like the God of Power corrupted people. At least, not in his estimation."

"I will still be me," the homunculus added. "And you almost accepted his offer earlier."

The Germanian woman did not respond.

Sonnetto pulled her into a hug. There was some kind of soul-searching happening between the two for which he was not a party. He had a sense that both of them had been quite traumatized and still in need of healing.

Then, Sonnetto offered him her hand again. "There is no such thing as power without freedom, Alex. Power is everything. All else is illusory. You are not the one offering me power, for I have all of it here. If you want your freedom, you will have to do what it takes to seize it yourself."

She said this with such confidence that it staggered him mentally for a moment. Looking at her eyes reflected what he feared most — despite how grand his city was, he was utterly powerless and at the mercy of his captor. It did not matter that Mary Canary meant no harm to him; it hurt to be reminded of his failure.

He couldn't free himself on his own. He had to rely on others, and the Unknown Mandate drew from the cosmic force towards liberation and what lay beyond horizons.

He stared at her hand, now unsure of himself again. Red light engulfed it, reflective of the pact magic.

The other two saw it, too.

She can actually free me, but why does that scare me so much?

Before they could react, he grabbed it, and lightning and red light crackled.

Magic enveloped himself and his ideal city, causing it all to phase into a new soul space. Her power made it incredibly clear what he feared so much.

Alexander Magnus might, just must, not yet be worthy of the crown his father passed down upon him, and maybe if he had listened more and talked less, he would have seen his inadequacy more.

Also, where am I now? He thought while looking around, seeing what appeared to be a quaint Germanian apartment.

"Oh, cool!" a young child exclaimed.

The king spun around to see one of the children of his cultists pulling a morning star off a weapon rack.

He rushed to the child's side before he hurt himself and accidentally knocked down a cobalt-colored blade that embedded itself in the ground, lacerating the king lightly.

While the child safely returned to his parents unharmed, Alexander had one thought on his mind. It was based on some of the horror stories he had heard about the Devil of Rhine and her handmaiden.

What kind of spartan training are they putting my son through?

The pact magic compelled him to head out of the apartment and seek his cultists in his city right outside Sonnetto's barely modified soul world. All the while, his mind was filled with all sorts of anxious worries that could only be resolved when those two came back and let him ask some questions.
 
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Bombs Away, Part 3 New
Previously on Mages of Interpol 15:
  • Karl von Ropen plots with other members of the Global North Alliance on a bombing of Jugoslavja and retaking North Germania from the Russy Federation and Germanian United Front.
  • Ramona Mercer bombs the US Embassy, and Ropen barely activates his shield just in time.




Outside the Octagon Strawshirt Factory - New Amsterdam, Eastern Unified States of America - September 1954

A few weeks before the explosion at the US Embassy in München

(LN: there will be Tanya/Sonnetto stuff after this scene. Also, this chapter has elements of horror.)


Dolores Arsen sat on a bench across from the ruins of a factory, nursing a cigarette to life as she put her lighter back into her pocket right next to a detonator. Her inner jacket held her favorite revolver and some specialty ammo that could take down any mage. As an aerial mage and as a woman, society forbade her the vice of tobacco — not anymore. Mana would protect her lungs from any plague build-up, she figured. It was a little act of rebellion against a world that didn't want her to rule it.

While she waited for someone to arrive, she thought about the whole fiasco going on in Europa and how she could help. That was what the meeting was about — getting involved to make the world a better place for people like Arsen. Was there anything more commendable than that?

The West was doing its best to navigate a difficult time due to MI15 arresting a very important political asset — Rudolph Himmler. Arsen had also put a lot of dollars down on getting the national socialists elected. Their leader's arrest set back the fight against the very real threat of socialism to the way of life Arsen depended on for power.

In the Unified States, Arsen and her allies had put propaganda machines at full tilt. At her side lay a skimmed copy of the Zeitgeist magazine that declared Rudolph Himmler, the 'person of the year'. Underneath that, Arsen had her copy of that morning's The New Amsterdam Times, which was turned into an Op-Ed by Himmler titled 'The Art of Propaganda'. It was somewhat amusing to have a propaganda rag discuss propaganda. Sure, the journalists working for it didn't see themselves as propagandists, but people like Arsen wouldn't hire these poindexters if they didn't align their worldview to that of their employers. After people only saw the same opinions over and over again, views like Himmler's became normalized while questioning Himmler and his surrogates became the new radical position. That was why news pundits would show such open derision towards even extremely popular economic reforms that went against Arsen and her friends' interests. Journalists made for the best propagandists precisely because they didn't know they were propagandists.

Well, until they stepped out of line and lost their jobs. However, a jobless journalist was as good dead.

The Francois and Albish leaders had soured on fascism after the Silver Legion report by MI15, deepening the already tense divide among the movers and shakers of the Western World. These Europeans took Agent Nichts at her word when she said that the reactionaries that made up the base of fascism could not be controlled. According to the mysterious Interpol officer, people like Himmer and Bussolini wouldn't just swing to the East but also to their fellow capitalists who were doing their darnest to support fascists in fighting the frankly terrifying Russy Federation on their behalf. The Unified States and Common Wealth did everything they possibly could to eradicate the Federation before, from poison gas to countless invasions to backing nationalist counter-revolutionaries using White Silver's insurgency doctrines. After the Great War, the commies still refused to bend to going back to having an aristocracy or even a new-fangled oligarchy of New Money. It would be really nice to turn all those state-owned apartments into for-profit enterprises, sucking an ever-delectable drop of blood out of those fairly untapped human resources in the Federation. Fascism was the last resort with its militarism and base of people who would destroy anyone labeled the enemy. Fascists were best poised to bring an effective forever war since the liberals didn't want the war to touch their shores and ruin the real estate values.

As for Agent Nichts, she stubbornly retained a really good reputation among the masses in Europa — way above any politician or news outlet. That was why the Germanian industrialists had to work with that reputation, not against it. Movies were rapidly being produced that depicted the helmeted heroine as a pure, virtuous Germanian woman who gets seduced by an evil Abya Yalan seductress. This villainess intentionally looked like the now quite tall Amber Canary, and she would lead Agent Nichts with lies and her wiles into betraying her country. It was only when a strong Germanian man came to save the day that the spell would be broken, and the Nichts character would fall into his arms and be whisked by to Germania to get happily married to him.

Dolores Arsen was actually looking forward to the movie until the whole Germanian Civil War broke out, halting the production as filming schedules, venues, and actors had to be changed rapidly. Now, the movie might not come out until next year. Honestly, Arsen didn't think Agent Nichts fit the virtuous maiden archetype. Among oligarchical circles, it was rumored that the Interpol Officer had to be a gender invert, for the munchkin had to be packing some real balls to explain her hyper-aggressive behavior and insanely reckless decision to go after monopolists.

Well, she also had other entertainment that spewed fanciful dream-like unrealities than the movies in the meantime. For example, there was also the judicial system. What had caught Arsen's eye was the narrative the Francois authorities were running on in Amber Canary's trial. The Francois had settled on the story that the Tejan Sharpshooter ran an international terrorist organization with Ramona Mercer and Tanya von Degurechaff. It was hellbent on bringing an end to democracy and freedom like all terrorists did. These monsters had infiltrated MI15 and forced the secretly very shy and timid Agent Nichts into doing awful things like slandering and arresting Rudolph Himmler, which undermined the very sanctity of democracy since Karl Ropen, the people, had decided that he should be the next chancellor. Since Himmler was currently under remand at the Hague in Legadonia under the unwatchful eye of Mary Sue, championing the cause of his release from unjust imprisonment now served the Western leadership. Hopefully, Himmler will remember the favor when he gets the VIP treatment, which was only possible when one sufficiently served the interests of Global North Alliance.

Putting the past aside for a moment, Dolores Arsen took a long drag of her cigarette. She was growing impatient, awaiting her test to help the leader of an organization she wanted to join with capturing a traitor.

A very unseasonal bitter cold had come over the Atlantic from Europa, and her designer petticoat was not cutting it. The wind also blew in the smells of ash and death from the wreckage.

"That was your factory," said a voice that came out of nowhere, commenting behind her.

Arsen sucked in her breath in fright and immediately regretted it and started hacking up smoke.

"Did you have to sneak up on me?" the businesswoman spattered between spasmatic coughs.

Behind Arsen was a woman who wasn't there a moment ago. How did she move so quietly? Why didn't the cops holding the perimeter for Arsen let her know her guest had arrived?

The stranger's codename, according to the enigmatic Leader, was supposed to be 'Fifth Eye of the Spider'. This person had a handkerchief that covered her forehead. Supposedly, the Fifth had flown in from Europa after the whole Himmler had played his role.

"Are you alone?" the Albishwoman replied, ignoring the previous question.

"Of course. I have had enough leaks."

Arsen was going to uphold their operational security. You never knew who you could trust in this wicked world. Anyone could be a spy or switch sides at any moment without proper vetting.

The Global North Alliance (GNA) had created Eight Eyes to pool their intelligence resources together behind their enigmatic leader, who credibly claimed to be able to see the future. Arthur Pelley and Richard Diamond had vouched for this Oracle; however, Diamond had been old money and hoarded the Oracle to himself. Those like Dolores Arsen and Karl Klick, who had ridden the Gilded Age into prosperity and were new to money, wanted their rightful place at the big spenders' table, even if it meant creating some lucrative vacancies. The Oracle had agreed that a shake-up in the leadership was overdue. He had successfully navigated behind the scenes to be in charge of Eight Eyes and got New Money backing his secret coup against the aristocrats of the old system.

There had always been a fundamental tension between the Old and New Money. The Old Money had to keep justifying their existence as a kind of noble obligation. Their right came with a duty. The New Money had pulled themselves up from the bootstraps even if those bootstraps had to garotte a million necks on the way up and had golden soles to give a much-needed boost. Honestly, things had gotten so ruthless near the end of the Gilded Age leading into the Great Depression that it didn't take much to upset the system. With a few prophetic whispers here and there, the Oracle had gotten the New Money lined up to set the Old Money up as a scapegoat for the Silver Legion's 'evils', and now people like Dolores Arsen were so very close to handling the obscene amounts of power that were consolidated the GNA and Eight Eyes.

Among the periphery around the Eight Eyes, the Oracle went by the codename 'the Spider God'. It's pretentious if it weren't somewhat true. The gods walked among mortals. It was just a fact. One just needed to make sure those gods were on one's side, and all the blessings would follow. The Old Money had thought they could keep the gods under their thumbs, but New Money knew it was far better to be inside the god's inner orbit.

Arsen could relate to this god. She had enough struggles getting the men in the business world to see her as anything more than a woman. That was why she had to do whatever it took to get every advantage she could get out of this rigged system. Becoming an Eye of the Spider God who could see all and semi-reliably predict the future would serve her purposes. It was just a matter of a vacancy opening up for her to get her Eye.

As Arsen would say to those who didn't respect her methods, 'Don't blame the dame; blame the game.'

"Your factory?" the other woman in a black suit with trousers indicated the charred wreckage nearby with a lazy gesture.

"It was," she admitted readily.

"Your employees burn it down or something? There has been a lot of terrorism lately."

The businesswoman frowned and then mentally shifted gears.

"No, it wasn't something like that," Arsen replied after a moment. "My workers know better than to mess with the hand that lets them eat. The Angels and those Tanechkists will sooner find themselves facing a swift death from my revolver if they dared get close to any of my factories. Anyways, would you want to hear the truth — who really burned it down?"

"I would rather see it, but I will settle for hearing what web you weave," the Fifth answered with a yawn. Jet lag, it must have been.

The businesswoman wanted to fit in with the Eyes, so she instinctively mirrored a blase demeanor. "I did."

"...why?"

"It was profitable to do so."

"Insurance for the building?"

"Yes, and the contents."

"I smell burnt flesh," the Fifth commented, moving upwind of the building past where Arsen sat. Not everyone liked the reality of how the sausage gets made.

"I apologize. It was my policy to keep all my factories locked up, even during work hours. (1) Prevents theft — from my employees if they can't leave without my permission." Arsen took a deep breath in the pleasant aroma. "I will get rid of these ruins when the time is right. Until then, it is best to enjoy the beauty of nature."

The Fifth very momentarily stopped midstep.

Arsen continued the tale of her fortunate 'misfortune' with a predatory gleam in her smile. "I had to pay their families $75 per employee kabab for 'wrongful death'. (1) I fought the price tooth and nail. I already paid plenty to get the mesquite wood to make it."

"And you still made a profit?" the Fifth inquired with an unmistakable wobble in her voice.

"Of course, I told you I insured the contents. That obviously includes my employees. It was a delicious $400 each, so I netted $325 per employee. With 146 employees, it was a hefty sum when I needed it most." (1)

Arsen licked her unnaturally spikey teeth, intentionally showing them to her interlocutor. A minor mutation she got from the Great War when she was close to death and had a vision of a horrific creature made out of pure hunger. It was like Arsen's very soul became tied to the creature as its extension in the world of flesh and blood.

The agent of the Spider God tensed up.

"Something wrong?" Arsen asked with a rueful smile.

"I just thought about whether this is something common here in the States even after the reforms."

"You know what they say about closing doors? You break a window. The anti-legion reforms just meant we had to get more creative to get our fill. 'Dead Peasants Insurance', I call it. All my friends are doing it too. It is really catching on like wildfire in the business world. Newspapers and big box store retailers are all on this right now. Our human resource department gives us information on their medical and health history, and then we take life insurance programs on them. (2) Perfectly legal, and with plenty of safe bets, you can get just a bit more profit for your business. You should try it, too."

"I will put that under advisement." In translation, the Albish woman was politely avoiding criticizing American cultural norms. How succulently progressive. "Did you come up with this idea yourself?"

"No, of course not. This is another wonder from the diamond mine of White Silver. That woman is truly a goddess of the loophole and business acumen even if she was a bitch to face on the battlefield."

The Fifth was not the only one covering her face. Arsen had a mask that covered half of her face. 'Two-face,' the locals called her. Underneath it was the burn marks from where the woman of countless aliases, Tanya von Degurechaff, landed a successful explosion formula. Arsen never had a beautiful face as Degurechaff did, but the mask gave her an aura of menace and rugged toughness that made it clear she would dance with the devil and survive.

A silence grew between them, so the agent from the Allied Kingdom scanned the surroundings to double-check that the street had no on-lookers or eavesdroppers. The police tape and officers on Arsen's payroll made sure of that. This street was hers as long as she deemed it necessary. She had shared a few morsels of sensitive information with the Fifth in part to make the foreigner feel that this place was safe to talk about anything. How else would she impress the Spider God if she couldn't do that much?

"So, how is Operation Gladio going?" Arsen inquired, pivoting the conversation to business now the pleasantries were over.

"The operation is going as planned — all thanks to your handsome donation, Mrs. Arsen," the Fifth stated while adjusting her cufflinks nervously.

"You can thank the peasants and White Silver." The businesswoman gestured again to the remains of the Octagon Strawshirt Factory. Arsen could not help but lick her sharp teeth, looking for any piece of meat that might have gotten caught up there. She was getting hungry, and a mage had to eat.

The Fifth squirmed, unable to contain her visceral reaction to Arsen, who thought the other woman looked a bit like a worm skewered on the end of a hook.

Arsen rolled her hand. "Please continue. You can't just stop giving me just a taste. I hunger for far more of what you have to offer."

"Yes, ma'am," the Fifth squeaked. It was funny how ancient instincts activated when people were around Arsen. "We have recruited three dozen disaffected mage commandos — Datista loyalists, the Silver Hand, the Checkered Shirts in Kroatia, and so on."

"And how are Eight Eyes planning on pinning the pawns' actions on the Commies and MI15."

"The Oracle is taking care of recruiting and grooming the fall guys personally."

"No details?" Arsen inquired with a raised eyebrow and another drag of her cig.

"Not even I can know them," the Fifth replied weakly before a memory brought back a bit of energy. "Oh, there is one thing. Be ready in a month. The dominos will begin in the fall. There will be no missing it. The public will be completely on our side."

Dolores Arsen took one last drag of her cigarette before tossing it on the street.

While the Eight Eyes spied on all threats to the empires of the Global North Alliance, they spent even more resources on controlling what information their citizens consumed. Sure, unsanctioned sources would leak occasionally, but there was always a scandal that could be drummed off to keep the delicious sheeple too distracted and overwhelmed to cause any real problems.

"And the Oracle will get Agent Nichts off our backs?" the two-faced businesswoman followed up.

"She won't be a problem ever again."

"Good. I don't know who she really is, but that commie bootlicker is a real pro. It is like she knows how we White Silverists think. Get in our heads. She has her team issuing reports telling people how to cripple our operations. Who the fuck taught a mage meathead like Nichts how trust funds and wealth managers make everything we do possible? The socialists and former colonies have gone and cut me off from my tourist visa, and my family wealth manager was arrested after taking a connecting flight in Ispagnia. All of this was at her suggestion. It was why I had to take a more hands-on method of getting you your money in time with this stunt with the fire."

"Noted," the Fifth said flatly, trying to contain both fear and disgust.

"All I ask is that you make sure Nichts suffers," Arsen added with heat in her voice. This was a test, after all, and it became clear what it was now.

"Of course, ma'am. I have been told that the Francois have deployed their very best from the SDECE. They have selected to use arcanium tablets just like the Russies."

"They are pulling off another Noumié? Hopefully, it will prove more effective than that time they forced a little girl to deliver a grenade in a bouquet of flowers to that Lhana commie for us."

The Fifth teetered again as Arsen spoke. "Are you not satisfied with arcanium? It is said to be the absolute worst way to die — slow, painful, inevitable. No human can even sense that you spiked a meal or drink with it."

"No, it is very much sufficiently just for that commie wench Nichts," the businesswoman replied with a slight smile that revealed her sharp teeth.

After the Hattadans, one could always trust the Francois to make it clear not to oppose their iron-fisted rule. The female mage will never forget how the Hattadans put grenades in soup cans before sending them to starving Germanian soldiers as a 'humanitarian' gesture. It was said that Imperialists were some of the most fucked up after the war. While the Eight Eyes made sure people focused on the Devil of the Rhine as the 'the world's greatest war criminal', most of the new war crimes were actually the result of the Hattadan soldiers getting extra creative. Part of Arsen feared that Agent Nichts' vendetta against fascists was born out a desire for revenge for what happened to Germanian soldiers during the Great War when all the powers piled on them to keep the geopolitical balance in check.

"Then what is the problem?" the woman in the suit inquired with a suspicious, eager curiosity that escaped the clutches of well-disguised fear.

"I just fear that people will find it suspicious if the Francois tries the same stunt again."

"Why? The commies hate the GNA-aligned Interpol teams, and the MI15 has created plenty of grudges in the east over the years."

"But not Nichts for whatever reason. She is very popular among the Tanechkists in particular, and they have a lot of sway with the Popular Frontists." It clicked in Arsen's mind. "But she isn't with the Old Federationists, though. Jugoslavja is still very much in the Old Federationist camp, as are Lhana and Viet Bam. Credibly blame the escalation of World War on the Old Federationists, and we can split the internationalist left and the nationalist right of the Socialist East."

"And isolate Jugoslavja from its allies for the upcoming Operation Merciful Angel," the Fifth commented with a passable attempt at thinking like Arsen. "Divide and conquer."

"White Silver would love a plan like this," the half-masked businesswoman added before wiping some drool from her face. Arsen so liked isolating her prey.

"Oh? Why do you say that?"

"According to what I heard during my Silver Legion days, White Silver loves it when you hit multiple birds with one stone. I am sure a pure-blooded businesswoman like her would be completely behind this plan to destroy the East by killing Agent Nichts if she were in our organization instead of Interpol and could see the big picture like the Eight Eyes can."

The Fifth laughed nervously.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing."

Arsen wasn't convinced. The Fifth knew something she didn't, which would change soon.

The businesswoman took out her favorite revolver and loaded the gun with some enchanted rounds in front of the Fifth.

"Don't worry. I just find this comforting. Old habits die hard, right?"

The Fifth didn't calm down despite Arsen's comment.

"So, is there anything you want to talk about, Mrs. Fifth?"

"No. That was all I was to report to our very generous donor."

The Fifth started taking a few steps back.

"You know what I was told this meeting was about?" the businesswoman inquired.

This enchanted round supposedly took out the Immortal Empress. Arsen thought she loaded the last chamber.

The Fifth moved as if to answer and then bolted for it. The Agent was far too fast to be a non-mage. It didn't matter. The Americans may have been humiliated by the setback with the collapse of the Silver Legion, but the world should not forget who defined war after the Great War. Arsen survived the Devil. The Fifth would not survive Arsen.

The businesswoman in the designer petticoat lifted up her gun.

"The Spider God whispered in my ear that you were going to test me on finding a traitor."

She cocked it.

"I don't need any more hints."

Kabam!

She may have put too much mana in that shot as the revolver's barrel warped.

The Fifth ducked with supernatural speed. The bullet flew over the spy's head as she proceeded to try to get into the wreckage of the factory to break sightlines.

Fishing through the pocket in her petticoat, the businesswoman took out her lighter and then the detonator. She erected a barrier and put some mana into the device.

KABOOM!

The building erupted into a fiery explosion.

The Fifth flew out of the wreckage with a dual-core computation orb fully activated. How she hid activating it was beyond Arsen, but that was a mystery to solve later.

Kabam!

One more shot from her revolver, and the traitor went down in a tailspin. Arsen walked over to the quickly passing away woman. Up close, the war vet could see the extra eyeball that the Spider God gave the Fifth that had been hidden crudely under the handkerchief. The magical eye closed and then disappeared. At the same time, an illusion spell revealed the elven ears of an Angel — so the Fifth was just a Tanechkist who couldn't keep her act together in front of Arsen. It wasn't her fault if they lacked good taste in company. It begged the question of how she got so high in the ranks of the Eight Eyes without the Spider God knowing.

"You have done wonderfully for me, Dolores," a little voice whispered in the businesswoman's ear. "Your talents have proven themselves remarkable. We could really use someone like you in our organization if you can continue to prove yourself."

"What do you need me to do?" Arsen asked as she rubbed her potbelly.

"Just need you to deliver some explosives to Essen to our clueless fools."

Arsen figured that Essen was someplace in Europa, but the name just made her hungrier for some reason.

The woman knelt down and picked up the body to take back to the now-smoldering remnants of the factory. She wanted to cook it a bit more. Whatever happened during the war with that many-mawed horror may have turned her into a human-eating ghoul, but she wasn't a barbarian. Arsen had standards. An Angel's flesh would taste much better than those children and women from the factory. Plus, she didn't even have to pay $75 for her meal this time and stood to make far, far more if the promises the Oracle gave her turned out true.

"You will fit in nicely with the other eyes, Dolores, or should I call you Fifth? Welcome to the cult of the Spider God. As a kindness, I shall tell you my name. My name is Anansi. I look forward to working with you more. Allow me to explain what it means to be my Fifth Eye."

Arsen barely heard what the Oracle said next — so engrossed in preparing her special little barbeque among the flames and ashe. There is something about the West cannibalizing itself without access to its empires. During her onboarding, she experienced a short headache and then was very much aware that now she had a third eye that saw reality so clearly. It would grant her the ability to see through illusions, but Anansi could also see through it at will. At the price of her privacy came the ability to rule the world. That assumed that a spider could stomach a bit of gourmet ghoulish behavior.



Citations:
  1. History.com Editors. "Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire." History.com. Original December 2, 2009; Updated: July 9, 2024. <https://www.history.com/topics/early-20th-century-us/triangle-shirtwaist-fire>
  2. Brooks, Ashlyn. Edited by Natasha Cornelius. "What is dead peasant insurance?" Bankrate.com. October 30, 2024. <https://www.bankrate.com/insurance/life-insurance/dead-peasant/#what-is-corporate-owned-life-insurance>
 
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Bombs Away, Part 4 New
Bombs Away arc so far:
  • Part 1: Karl von Ropen plots with other members of the Global North Alliance on a bombing of Jugoslavja and retaking North Germania from the Russy Federation and Germanian United Front. Ramona Mercer bombs the US Embassy, and Ropen barely activates his shield just in time.
  • Part 2: While the League of Nations rages at the Global North Alliance's propaganda campaign to justify bombing Jugoslavja, the news of the bombing breaks.
  • Part 3: A few weeks before the bombing in München, Anansi the Spider God is the shadow leader of Eight Eyes, an intelligence agency behind countless bombings, false flag operations, and regime chants. After having her kill a mole in his organization, he recruits the cannibal business woman Dolores Arsen to be his Fifth Eye and deliver bombs to Essen.

City of Londonium, Allied Kingdom - September 1954
One Week before the Explosion at the US Embassy in München


Fang Shiyu and his team had just finished a mission in Joseon, investigating the killing of thousands of student demonstrators. (1) Some of the former Silver Legion had been involved since the Ablish had seized all the American naval assets and recruited key personnel from the former fascist superpower. That case paled in comparison to bigger massacres by the Global North Alliance's proxy army in the Bodo League massacre, but MI12 was handling that one.

Captain Sonnetto and Captain Weiss had given Agent Fang several options for his next mission. First, Sonnetto had offered him a few Viet Bam cases, but he declined in consideration of his team. The Francois and American forces had taken Laigon in southern Viet Bam. Not only had they drowned the city in rape, (2) but they even wheeled out a guillotine to chop off the heads of anyone Vietbamese dissidents. (3) (4) His XO Jing-wei did not want to risk members of the team getting falsely arrested and made an example of the arbitrary justice system set up by the puppet government the GNA set up. Their analyst Fred Ho had warned the team about the risk of just being killed by the Francois in an Operation Gladio-style false flag attack to obstruct MI15's investigations and pin the blame on the Vietbamese seeking liberation from imperial rule yet again.

The second option Sonnetto gave him involved Civilian Air Transport. The company was suspected of being a front for Eight Eyes and behind the bombing of merchant ships in Nusantara. However, there was nothing to investigate there. The Nusantraran government had already captured the pilots who had conducted the murderous bombings. MI15 would just be glorified bodyguards as negotiations in the League of Nations between governments decided the pilots' fate. His team was geared for investigations in non-mage majority environments. It was a waste of their talents to just watch over prisoners.

Captain Mary Sue would have been a better fit given she had been 'promoted' to 'bodyguard' for very important prisoners going to the Hague. Apparently, she was guarding some politician named Rudolph Himmler, whom Tanya von Weiss had arrested. Mary Sue still had important jobs from time to time that utilized her skills. For example, Senior Officer Armstrong had sent Captain Sue on a one-mage mission to catch all the cats air-dropped into the Russy Federation by the GNA. No other mage had so much experience catching lost pets than that Legadonian Mandate.

While Operation Cat Drop had been supposedly getting rid of a rat infestation in the few remaining colonies of the Albish Empire, Operation Acoustic Kitty involved putting secret magical recording devices in the cats and recording the secret conversations of the communists. It was too diabolic. Everyone knew General Secretary Ivan Smirnov, and the Politburo couldn't resist adorable kittens. The leader had a famous fondness for cats.

Due to these bundles of cuteness, the GNA discovered how reluctant the Russy Federation was to use Arcanium bombs. That was why the GNA could be so aggressive in this game of chicken with weapons of magical destruction. The Federation may not want to wipe out a bunch of innocent workers in GNA countries, but that didn't stop them from getting directly involved in the Germania Civil War.

The last option Sonnetto gave Fang involved the accusations of ethnic cleansing in Jugoslavja. Agent Masquerade had been investigating the situation for over a year. It was one of the few missions he could go on since he was a wanted man in GNA countries for betraying the Albish Secret Service a few years back. He had only so far uncovered evidence of 3,000 murdered Legalists, which was indeed a serious crime, but this was a far cry from the 100,000 claimed by the GNA, who was ramping up for large-scale military intervention sometime in the imminent future. (5) (6) His findings called into serious question GNA's narrative of events for those in Western Europa who read League of Nations' accounts of atrocities. While intervention was necessary by League guidelines, carpet bombing Jugoslavja was like trying to prevent murders in a town by blowing up the entire town, which apparently was the standard modus operandi. All the GNA had to do was point at a crime against humanity committed by one group, and then it became a blank check to intervene and restructure a country, including breaking several international laws in the process.

Since Masquerade was pretty much done with his report and Interpol was pulling out before any military intervention happened, Fang had to turn down Sonnetto's last suggestion. That left only Tanya von Weiss' one. He had to agree it would be a good mission for his team — with the notable exception of him. Honestly, he wanted to be nearly anywhere else but where this mission had sent his team in MI15. Around him were the sounds of honking cars, the bells of the state-run Protester Church, someone pulling a wagon and calling for people to bring out their dead, and locals greeting each other with friendly insults.

"Welcome to the City of Londonium," Fred Ho announced with faux glee like he was a tour guide as they walked out of the train station. "You will never find a more vile den of thieves or dense web of secrets on the planet."

"Or the galaxy," Jing-wei muttered.

"I am actually kind of interested to get to work here," a third teammate announced. "Never been to Londonium. Will we get to see Duckingham Palace?"

Her name was Alana Stewart, an American from New Amsterdam who had been shuffled into MI15. She may have had elven ears, but Alana was no Angel. Another mage did an irreversible forced mutation in order to show solidarity with anti-imperialism. Since being misidentified as an Angel was problematic, the woman used that new nifty ear-concealing spell that real Angels used not to get murdered on sight in the West these days.

AD_4nXetjOBcRybIxHZ4jupkXU5BQy1_6FRIU-nkzsFDuzUnygVdvSaBIsQCGR6DDW-rkqeAN6k6NEKwKvGrHeSuq_vTQV4L4IvAkB6U6QUp7GBAZA_PkNVsSK_K7nrdNWBIafPheGe1Ng

Alana Stewart by Naze

"We are here to work," Fang reminded the newest teammate. "And if we get this done quickly, we can help Captain Tanya and Captain Sonnetto."

"But that is a warzone," Fred panicked. "The Times said that arcanium bombs might get dropped."

"I know. The battle will be intense."

Jing-wei facepalmed. "For like a half a second before the magical radiation kills us or mutates us into an unthinking grey goo. Agent Fang, I know you are in charge because Sonnetto said so, but focus on hitting the books, not punching Brown Shirts."

The martial artist looked for support from Agent Stewart, but her expression made it clear that she agreed with the others. Why couldn't he have been on Tanya's team? That woman might pretend to like boring stuff like chasing after tax evasion, but he knew deep down that battlemaniac belonged in one place — facing impossible odds on a battlefield that pushed her beyond her limits.

"Well, I am in charge, so I am saying we are going to focus on getting this done quickly," Fang declared in a huff. "We will meet with the informant, and then we will get out of here."

He then motioned to get a move on.

Stewart kept looking around at the strange new city for her while Ho explained how Londonium worked.

"The City of Londonium actually is a city within a city."

"Huh?"

"There are two Londoniums," Agent Ho stated, prideful in his research work. "The one we are in now is the privately owned and run part of the city. Private police, too."

Stewart grimaced, but Ho kept going.

"This city has the most banks in the world. Most of the money is handled in complete secrecy. Meetings behind closed doors are filled with coded language and use of irony that only strata of wealth managers know. No paper trails about where the money came from. According to my sources, 99% of the clients of the big private banks here are involved in tax evasion."

"Tax evasion, at the very least," Stewart commented dryly. "Money for sex trafficking, funding terrorist organizations, and the plundering of entire nations goes through here. Ugh, this is bringing back too many memories of the Silver Legion."

"Sorry, but you should know about how this place works if we ever come back here or go to the Lahamas to continue the investigations."

"That assumes the Commonwealth allows MI15 to come back at all," Jing-wei added with a yawn. "All signs are that the GNA is going to leave the League of Nations."

"They say that all the time," Ho countered. "Never do. The Allied Kingdom would have to be insane to leave the League. They would be out of the international monetary fund and all the other institutions the League offers."

"I don't know about that," Stewart said as she stopped to look at something. "What is happening in Germania and Jugoslavja is big. I think they are really going to do it this time."

Fang also paused to see what had caught her attention. It was a store with a sign on the window that said, "Die on your terms! Only $75 sterling! Free lottery ticket for your family or friends. Give them a chance at paradise on earth while you have pie in the sky [song]."

Another sign said, "Don't worry about paperwork. We will handle it for you."

There was a picture of a beggar getting warm clothes and a house in heaven while cash rained down on the woman's family below.

The Zhangzi monk clutched his gut. "Agent Ho, what am I looking at?"

"Assisted dying," Agent Ho explained. "After the Albish Empire fell apart, Albion could no longer support its economy in the old-fashioned colonial way, so it deindustrialized and financialized with these banks. That meant fewer jobs as they got sent overseas to cheaper countries, but also a shift to real estate speculation, resulting in a rapid rise in housing prices and homelessness. Since AK banned penal slavery, the bankers decided providing subsidized assist dying services was the 'more humane' solution."

"Well, they can always join the Albish Legion," Jing-wei grumbled. "They will get a shiny helmet and a pair of kinky boots [song]. With all the Silver Legion territory and military assets, there has to be a lot of jobs there."

"I doubt it," Agent Stewart countered. "A lot of what they are doing is using proxies. It is really hard to justify war plundering if your family comes back in a casket. They need the wars out of mind, and dead bodies remind people of that."

"Still, if the Albion was picking up our imperial holdings, wouldn't that reverse the degradation of the workers here?" Agent Stewart inquired. "Where is the money going if not here?"

"They call them secret jurisdictions," Agent Ho explained with a finger pointed in the air like he was a professor. "Essentially, the Commonwealth contains several tax havens that are not subject to oversight by the Albish citizens. Right now, the Lahamas is the place of choice. It is a beautiful tourist destination, too. All the wealth siphoned out of Afrika and Asia gets redirected to these offshore locations even if the banks are here in Londonium. That is why Afika countries can simultaneously be under crippling debt but can produce way more wealth that doesn't go towards that debt." (7)

Stewart frowned. "But the industry in the Allied Kingdom?"

"Well, there's no point in re-industrializing once you've already found cheaper labor in sweatshop countries. If they need more sweatshops, they will just militarily intervene in another country."

"Like Jugoslavja," Jing-wei pointed out.

Fang wanted to punch someone really badly but took a deep breath and subdued the unhealthy emotion. He increased his pace, hoping to avoid another thing that would set him off. The mission was just to talk to their contact.

If only the Weaver of Fate had been so kind to him, but alas, a Bharati beggar had called out to the frustrated martial artist.

"Hey, Mister," a Bharati beggar on the street called to Fang. "Spare a few sterlings for a poor man. The winter will be here sooner than you know."

Fang didn't have any money aside from the allowance he needed for necessities, so he turned to Jing-wei, who carried some funds for gift shopping. She put one hand up her sleeve to retrieve some cash stowed there but then stopped.

"Sorry, I don't have any."

She just floated away while making sure to keep her gaze forward. The martial artist caught up to her and glanced at the lavender imp with a bit of judgment.

"What? Would you give money to a person who would just use it to off themselves?"

Fang couldn't respond to that. He doubted a single sage ever had to deal with a situation like that.

While his mind was running from Jing-wei's question, the man accidentally bumped into a man in a tophat.

"Oi, watch where you are going, savage!" the man shouted at him.

"Sorry, sir. I meant no harm." Fang's life could literally be ruined as a mage if the man who likely could afford expensive lawyers accused him of assaulting him. While MI15 would back him up, it was instinctual at this point to be in countries like the Allied Kingdom.

The man glanced at the martial artist's robes. "What are you? A f#%$ot? Get away from me." With that, he harumpfed and stormed off. The guy was definitely not in a good mood.

Fang was left wondering what just happened. "What did he call me?"

Agent Ho, ever the scholar, offered his over-researched answer. "Literally, a bundle of sticks. It is a derogatory term for homosexuals. There are multiple explanations for how the term caught on, but one is that Europeans, particularly Prussens, would burn homosexuals at the stake about two centuries ago."

"In translation, that jerked called you something that should set aflame," Jing-wei commented dryly.

I guess that is why the Albish refer to cigarettes that way.

Given what the fascists in Germania were saying about Uranists like Tanya, Fang was worried about the practice of killing them with fire again. Uranism was the currently popular term in Germania to refer to homosexuality, referencing the Rumelian goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite (Uranus). Many Suffragists, Scientific Humanitarians, and socialists backed the efforts of Uranists to repeal Paragraph 175 in Germania.

Agent Stewart lifted a finger as if wanting to correct something but decided to keep it to herself.

"We are almost there," Fred Ho commented, trying and failing to lighten the mood. "We just have to negotiate with the VIP and we can get onto the next mission."

Fang gritted his teeth.

It was so rare for him to feel anger like this. Where were the bad guys he could punch? The enemy was always warlords and other martial artists…. When did the enemy become people who sat behind desks all day like his father? You couldn't punch them. They wore glasses and didn't know the first thing about fighting. It wasn't honorable. It wasn't like the ancient tales.

"How does a place become like this, Agent Ho?" he asked.

The other man in their team jogged to keep up with the mages. "Short answer: Trusts."

"What is the long answer?"

"Well, most wealth is in the land and everything built on it. It was only taxed when a person died. However, the Albish aristocrats decided to use a loophole, assigning their land to a trust managed by a younger relative who would outlive them. By doing this, they could both benefit from their wealth while not having to pay estate taxes upon their death.

"Since these trusts were sealed by swearing before the Goddess of Victory, Nike," Ho continued, gesturing to a statue that looked way too much like Tanya. "They were adjudicated in the ecclesiastical court of the Albish Protestor Church, which is filled with aristocrats and outside the democratic process."

"Wasn't the Protestor movement all about stopping corruption of the church?" Jing-wei inquired. "That is why they are called Protestors."

"Yes, but King James VIII wanted to get out of thumb of the Universalists and get a divorce," Ho answered with a flourish of his wrist. "So he co-opted the movement, had the King Henry Holy Book written in a specific way to solidify his divine right to rule over the Ildoan clerics, and then used Albish Protestors to crack down on anyone not loyal to the crown. Since the Eirish generally had no love for the Albish monarch, given they were and still are brutally oppressed, Eirland stayed mostly Universalist."

Agent Stewart raised her hand like she was still in a classroom, and Professor Agent Ho called on her.

"Um, my ancestors were Protestors, but the Albish persecuted them, too. That was why they fled to the Americas."

"Good point, Agent," the only non-mage complimented. "Yes, prisoners, persecuted religious minorities, and landed gentry went to the Albish colonies in the Americas. Bringing us back to these trusts has to do with the Albish colonial system. While Ispagnia excessively taxed their colonies, the Albish typically gave their aristocrats a tax haven in their colonies, which encouraged the immigration of these wealthy elites. That was a big reason why these merchants and landed gentry revolted when they saw their taxes increase in North America. They did not take kindly to having their bottom lines messed with by the crown overseas.

"The trust system lives on today under the watchful eyes of the wealth managers here in the Holy See of Capitalism that is Londonium and hidden from the public's oversight in secret jurisdictions in the tax havens in the Commonwealth."

With the lecture finished, they arrived at their destination — 185 Baker Street, Lloyds Bank.

The teller sneered at Agent Fang as he walked up to the Albishman. Did he just smell like a sterlingless beggar or something?

"How can I help you, sir?" the teller inquired.

"We are to collect some papers from Mrs. Paradise," he replied, recalling the secret passwords. "She just flew in from Panama."

The teller adjusted his stance, regarding Fang and his team for several moments. Then, the man pulled out a box covered in black velvet from a secret compartment. "Be careful of being too curious."

Fang knew to wait to take the offered box. He had to follow the instructions Senior Officer Elya Müller had given him, or the meeting would fall through. He took a deep breath and gave the last password. "Well, even if all hell breaks loose, Pandora still found hope, didn't she?"

The teller reduced his sneer a few degrees and opened the box's false bottom to provide the key. "Well, said, sir. Mrs. Paradise has been waiting for you. Would you like us to bring some tea?"

"Yes, do you have some jasmine?" Agent Jing-wei piped up as she snatched the key and then floated off to the meeting room.

"A pop for me, if it isn't a bother," Agent Stewart added.

"Coffee for me too, black," Agent Ho followed up.

The teller raised an eyebrow at the martial artists, who felt a bit embarrassed on behalf of his team.

"And for you, sir?"

"Green tea or water would be wonderful. Thank you."

"Anything you want, it is our pleasure to serve clients of the bank."

The meaning of the words didn't reach the teller's expression.

Only Fred Ho had any undercover work, but the rest of the team was absolutely hopeless in that regard.

The meeting room had a mahogany table surrounded by black leather office desks. Sitting on the far end of the table was a woman reading Zeitgeist magazine while munching on something that looked like baby back ribs. Countless things stood out about the woman, but what really got Fang's attention was her pointy teeth that made her look like a Nimerigar — a mythical man-eating creature from Shoshone folklore. According to Senior Officer Müller, the woman was only known by the codename 'Fifth' and was an undercover Angel who had infiltrated Eight Eyes, which served as GNA's intelligence apparatus. The Angels were putting a lot of trust in MI15 to let them contact their agent.

The Fifth glanced at Fang and his team. Her eyes lingered on Agent Stewart, particularly the novice Interpol Officer's ears, which were under illusion. The Fifth parted the hair on her forehead, and then, in a flash, she had a revolver pointed at Agent Stewart's noggin.

"What is the big idea?" the Fifth shouted, cocking her gun. "You thought you could fool me, huh?"

Go figure that a real Angel can tell when a fake Angel is around, even through illusion spells.

"No, no, she is on your side," Fang clamored, trying to de-escalate the situation. "She's fake but here to help you in the operation."

The Fifth stared at each member of the martial artist's team one at a time. Sweat slicked their necks as one wrong move could end when Agent Stewart died.

Having an Angel ready to kill my team on a mission to Albion if we make one wrong move is giving me serious deja vu.

The teller came into the room and deposited the drinks in front of each Agent's chair, seemingly oblivious to the standoff.

"Would you like any sugar or honey, sir?" he asked Fang.

The Zhangzi man glanced at the Fifth and then back to the teller, then back to the Fifth. With a nod of his head, Fang indicated he wanted the honey, which the teller placed on the table in a sterling pitcher next to the fine Zhangzi teacup.

Once the door shut behind the teller, the armed agent pulled up her weapon. Everyone had a sigh of relief on his team.

"Well, well, well, isn't that convenient," the Fifth commented. "You will do nicely."

She was referring to Alana Stewart, but what for was beyond Fang.

"Um, your New Amsterdam accent is compelling," the American agent noted aloud. "You sound native."

"Of course she does," Agent Ho pointed out. "She is probably a pro."

That made sense. Many Angels had backgrounds as spies. While Müller said the Fifth was an Albish woman, the New Amsterdam accent was likely part of the disguise.

The Fifth shrugged. "I don't know if I am a pro at talking like this."

She sat down and got back to her meal.

Jing-wei was staring at the Fifth intently, pissing off the feasting woman.

"What are you looking at?"

"Ugh, you have an illusion on your forehead."

The Fifth froze and then chewed on how to respond. "It is a wart. Don't want people to see it."

Jing-wei was about to retort, but Fang stopped her. Still, something about the Fifth made him feel like he was in danger. He liked that feeling, which made her more interesting to him. After they finished their drinks, they got down to sterling tacks.

"We were told we should help you with whatever you need for your operation," the martial artist explained, enjoying the warmth the tea gave him. "We have prepared a passport and transport to Essen for you."

The woman nodded. "Excellent. I do need help with a few things."

"Just name them, Miss."

"First, I need help getting my manager out of custody in Ispagnia. I just can't access my funds without him."

Fang turned to Jing-wei, who nodded.

"We can probably do that. Ispagnia's government is fully cooperative with us."

The Fifth whistled. "You guys must be good if you got a bunch of Brotskyists to work with you."

"Uh…, it isn't that much trouble," Fred Ho pointed out, having already down his coffee. "They have been working with us ever since Phranco got overthrown."

The Angel shook her head in disbelief. "Okay, my second demand is that I need help getting some sensitive luggage to Essen. I promise you that it won't be getting through customs without pulling some strings."

"We can probably help you do that," Fang commented. He figured it was sensitive files that the woman was secreting out of Londonium. "Any other ways we can assist?"

"Yeah," the Fifth replied before taking a meaty bite from her meal and licking the sauce off her fingers. Then, she pointed at Agent Stewart. "I want her to handle this luggage for me. I need her to deliver it to someone in Essen."

"Who is that, Miss Fifth?" the newest MI15 Interpol Officer inquired.

The Angel paused for a moment. She muttered under her breath. Fang knew that the Angels communicated with each other through their unique mutations. It was why the Fifth probably could tell Stewart was fake, he figured.

Finally, the Fifth answered him. "Yeah, her name is Ra…ugh…Ramona Mercer."

Fang knew who Mercer was, and if she was involved, then something huge was going down.

The Fifth flipped closed a manilla folder that was in front of her and full of presumably documents that implicated countless oligarchs in international crime.

"Oh, and one more thing: Don't tell anyone about my plans or me. Operational security."

She gave a toothy smile, and his teammates simultaneously paled like they saw a demon.



Citations:
  1. "25 Years Ago: The Kwangju Massacre in South Korea." <https://www.democracynow.org/2005/5/18/25_years_ago_the_kwangju_massacre>
  2. "The Politics of Rape in Vietnam." <https://www.freedomarchives.org/Documents/Finder/DOC57scans/57.Vietnam.ThePoliticsRapeVietnam.pdf>
  3. "When heads rolled in Vietnam" <https://huongduongtxd.com/theguillotine.pdf>
  4. "The Vietnam War and the Case for Painful History" <https://www.theatlantic.com/membership/archive/2017/11/the-vietnam-war-and-the-case-for-painful-history/546068/>
  5. "Serb killings 'exaggerated' by west" <https://www.theguardian.com/world/2000/aug/18/balkans3?CMP=share_btn_url>
  6. "The Rational Destruction of Yugoslavia." <https://www.michael-parenti.org/article-the-rational-destruction-of-yugoslavia>
  7. "Elites Loot Africa While Foreign Debt Mounts" <https://archive-yaleglobal.yale.edu/content/elites-loot-africa-while-foreign-debt-mounts>
A link to a documentary that was a major source of info for this chapter about London and offshoring.
 
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Chapter 24: The Madness, the Power, and the Thorn New
Previously on Mages of Interpol 15:
  • C21: Amber "Calamity" Canary is on trial in the Francois Republic for killing a non-mage Silver Legionist.
  • C22: Tanya and Sonnetto travel through soul space in order to stop Mary Canary from being used as a Superweapon. They need Amber Canary to help guide them to her sister's soul and listen to Calamity's Freedom Week story.
  • C23: Alexander Magnus offers Sonnetto a deal to take possession of his soul, and she accepts despite the danger.



Soul Space - Mary Canary's Gilded Cage - September 1954

(Sonnetto's Perspective)

Lightning crackled on my hand as I stared at it.

"Are you okay, Agent?" Tanya asked me, tugging at my side.

"I think so. It is a lot to process."

"Did you really keep his soul?"

I didn't have to answer for her to know.

"For crying out—" Tanya stopped herself and took a deep breath. "Agent Sonnetto, release it."

I bit my lip. I didn't know how to respond. So many feelings were rushing through me. On top of that, I could feel the lightning racing up my spine towards my head. The Power Mana really wanted to go to my head.

Tanya searched my face. I could feel her Doubt/Individuality mana probing my thoughts deeper through our bond.

"You wanted to know if he actually loved Roxanne?" she asked incredulously and somewhat hypocritically as if she hadn't used our bond to do that very thing with me when we fused for the second time all those few years ago.

My face tingled with static and heat.

Around us, the city, with all its over-engineered urban sprawl, dissipated, and so did the cave. A cold gust blew towards them from a tundra where the Change Mandate must be imprisoned somewhere. If it wasn't for our bond, I might have been able to hide my embarrassment as an act of this coldness in Mary's soul.

"Well, you got your answers now," the tiny woman with wave-like hair declared with fierce concern. Tanya knew what Sonnetto now knew: Alex had liked the idea of Roxanne as his 'first wife' and kindred spirit — a person also caught in a whirlwind of fate that put her in constant danger, and he wanted to lessen that burden as much as possible, only to fail spectacularly.

Tanya softened her expression and went back to the voice of a concerned partner despite being on a mission. "Please, let him go, dear."

"I also want him to speak to Rex before he passes on."

Tanya tried to hold my hand, but some sparks caused her to recoil. "I really advise against holding onto this Mandate. Did you not notice how his mana was influencing our thoughts during our discussion?"

I didn't notice, but I wasn't going to admit that. Instead—

"Are you afraid of me being stronger than you, of me knowing better than you?" I retorted with a bit more aggressive static in my throat. I jerked a bit. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to react that way."

The mana from Tanya's Doubt/Individuality side started to intensify, and I then felt my control come back a bit. My partner was literally glowing in a painful light that made me question a lot of things about what was going on. Changing the way you think is always uncomfortable. Many would rather die than change their mind — and that was before they had to face the influence of this half of her Mandate's duality. After being in the prison/cave of the philosopher king, Tanya was staring into the sun. I had to avert my gaze because I feared going blind with that much Doubt on my face. It did no one any good to doubt everything to the point they deny what or rather who is in front of them.

"I was thinking about you a lot," I muttered as cold regret filled the space between her and me, making the bizarre snowy path leading presumably to Avgust Zimir all the chillier. I twirled my fingers and tried to ignore how lightning jumped between my fingers.

My lover and co-leader in the operation massaged her knuckles in concern to help resist the desire to touch me. Touch had always been Tanya's language of love since actual words always seemed to fail to convey how she actually felt about anything. It fell heavily on my shoulders to discuss things for both of us since she retreated inside herself most times when someone got close to figuring out one of her countless secrets. I was very much aware that for the last couple of months, she had been hiding something really big from me. I was certain it had something to do with our separation during her Victoria Truman days and some unresolved traumas.

I could feel the Power Mana caused my short hair to stand up as I cleared my throat.

"I thought that if you could rely on me a bit more, you could take some more time to let yourself heal."

Tanya frowned and then pinched the bridge of her nose. After a few moments, she took a deep breath. "If you want to improve your skills, this is not the way to do it. Shortcuts get people killed. I could have asked Matheus to train you if you didn't want me to do it. I know you look up to him because I trust his skill."

More than you trust mine, even though I have saved your life countless times.

Did Tanya think that I couldn't handle Alex's power? Was she underestimating me?

I was about to retort with those very questions when a wiser pathway lit up in my soul's brain. "Tanya, how often have you done the very thing you fear I have done?"

The little woman took a step back. Even if she would have never admitted it, Tanya was exactly the kind of person who would sacrifice herself to protect her family. That was why she let the Type-95 overwrite so much of her soul.

"I am just doing this to help you," I stated forcibly, closing the distance between us in a few lightning-fast steps. "I just want what's best for you."

"What's best for me is that you are not being influenced by some man who wouldn't last one day in Interpol before being sent to HR."

"The same HR where you have been sent multiple times because of very similar issues."

Tanya bit her tongue. While she was very much in the equal opportunity camp, the tiny woman definitely deserved every time she got sent to HR for letting her war and past life prejudices flare up too much at work.

"Tanya, you need to stop thinking you have to do everything."

"I only do what I need to do."

"What you need is to sit back and let others take the lead before it kills you."

"I literally have no choice but to let Sonata take the lead," Tanya countered in exasperation. I couldn't see much other than her hands due to all the light coming off her. "Sonata definitely does a lot of things I would never do."

"That is the problem," I countered back with the air crackling around me. "If you could be in charge instead of Sonata, you would. You never willingly let other people have any power in the space you carve out for yourself. You only ask my thoughts out of a sense of obligation. Still, you don't trust other people to take charge because, deep down, you think you will get captured again and become a puppet if you have enough power over your own life. Still, that fear of being powerless and unsafe is preventing you from doing some much-needed introspection and healing."

Tanya chewed on what I said for a moment. She wasn't the only one who had some secret thoughts. Only now did I feel it necessary to air them out, though they were coming out a bit distorted for some reason like there was some static in my mind. It was hard to focus on what was causing it to be off. The very moment I began to grasp the cause, some other region of my mind would light up, and any potential revelation was forgotten. Part of my mind was panicking, but another more dominant part felt very much in charge right now. Worse, it was like being in charge again.

Finally, Tanya replied. "Can we have this conversation when your mind is clearly not under the influence of his mana?"

"No, we are doing this now. I will show that I can protect you, and you will finally start letting yourself be vulnerable enough to heal. Let it all go. Let yourself just be yourself."

"I am very fine with the way I am, and I thought you liked me how I was."

"Tanya, you are still very sick. It is because I love you that I don't want to see you hurt yourself out of fear. As long as you refuse to process what happened to you during your life, especially what happened during Truman's—"

"Agent Sonnetto, this is an order. We are not talking about this now. Not while we are on a mission and definitely while you are clearly tripping on power that is messing with your personality."

I imagined that Tanya's blue eyes lovingly but sternly looked up into mine. I still had to avert my eyes.

Tanya knew I wasn't okay, but I didn't want to worry her. If I wanted her to get better, I had to not show any weakness. When I let his power reach my head, I suddenly could feel my anguish fade away and instead focus on the mission. That was what Tanya had wanted me to do, right? Focus on the mission, just the mission. Nothing else. I was here to protect my family and all those I care about in Germania.

"Let's get moving," I commanded as I took Tanya's hand and pressed forward.

Ahead of us was an icy ravine that definitely looked out of place. There was nothing else visible in this Dust Bowl hell hole other than the prison house that had led into the cave and this ravine, so there was no point in wasting time with deliberation.

"Hey, stop, Sonnetto. You are hurting me!"

What was that sound? Perhaps I can escape if I move a bit faster.

Power seeks the shortest path to victory.

I started boosting us forward with this new mana, and in a few steps, we had crossed a few kilometers.


Only the mission mattered. I knew that now. The mission would show her that I can protect her from pain. I pushed out her shouts. Push out all Doubt from my mind. The moment I start worrying, my heart will be exposed, and the enemy will strike.

"Agent, halt!" the woman of Doubt commanded with Solidarity's help.

Rules determine our horizons.

I stopped immediately, and a sonic boom went off behind me. Momentum carried this woman of Doubt in front of me. Her dislocated arm flapped uselessly at her side as she desperately tried to prevent herself from turning into a bloody stain in the icy wall of the ravine.

The glowing woman tried to pull power from me because she didn't have enough to reinforce her body for what had just happened and to counteract her momentum.

Power is jealous.

That's right! This power was mine. I needed it, not Doubt. I was not safe without it. How will I protect those that matter to me without it? How will Tanya be safe if I listen to Doubt? I don't need to listen to her. Power tells Doubt what to do — not the other way around.

I wrenched my crackling sea of mana back from the silvery-blue Doubt-person for Tanya's sake. I needed that power for Tanya. Just Tanya. Doubt wasn't my responsibility.

"Agent!" Doubt screamed over the connection to my soul.

Doubt…was afraid.

"Sonnetto, please."

Our limits define us — where the self ends and the horizon begins.

What was I doing?

"Tanya!" It was like a snap, and I suddenly remembered who she was.

I practically teleported behind Tanya with the speed I could move now and then eased my partner to a safe stop in the microsecond time dilation we were operating at. Then, I released her. Lightning was crackling all over my body still. A couple of burn marks indicated where I had accidentally electrocuted her.

Seeking humbly beyond the horizon towards the other can be an act of love — where Self and other meet and become one. But the Self also desires for itself, so Power conquers its horizons — crushing the other to propagate the Self.

I became very much aware that the two Mandates in me were warring to define who I was. Given I didn't have a personality at all without the Self Mandate, I was probably far more sensitive to the personality-shifting nature of Mandate mana than either of us considered. It was terrifying, but there was something more pressing on my mind right now than those two Mandates could ever be.

"Tanya, I am so sorry," I stated as I got down to her level on one knee. She was breathing hard but significantly injured.

"Release him. You can't control this."

"I can control it."

Why did I reply like that?

Power hoards ever more power, for power has ever more enemies, and the larger the domain, the more that must be defended.

"Agent, this is an order. Release him."

Pulling rank even though we were technically co-leaders now felt awful, but I knew on a mission that I had to accept it. I felt…no, I was sure I could control the Mandate of Power.

Certainty is the domain of Power. Uncertainty is for the weak who fear the powerful. Power makes the truth by shaping reality.

I was not weak. I needed not to be weak. That meant I had to be certain and had to control this.

"Officer Sonnetto, you can't control this," Tanya pressed, limping towards me as she gingerly held her messed up arm. "I am starting to suspect that Alex couldn't either."

Power must be used. The Self always pushes against its limits.

The lightning crackled around me in defiance. I refused to take orders. Not from even Tanya.

Where was Tanya anyway? Why was Doubt here again? How detestable that she would get in my way of finding my partner. There was this instinctual, very visceral desire to crush Doubt in me that I can barely fathom. I only resisted because some part of me thought that Tanya would be upset if I hurt Doubt.

"You have no idea how much mana and knowledge is at my fingertips: mathematics, philosophy, the art of war, countless tactics and stratagems," I stated as I let lightning envelop my arms.

It felt good to have power over others. You could do anything, and they could do nothing to stop you. It was perverse but oh so intoxicating. How did Alex ever resist doing whatever he darn well pleased? He always acted so sheepishly when speaking privately with Roxanne back when he was alive. Why be gentle and soft when you could be powerful all the time? Why hold back when you can just have what you desire with a bit of force?

Why do I remember Olympia saying something to me…no, she was talking to Alex. I am Alex, aren't I? Why was Alex so afraid of himself…all the time? Why was I so focused on controlling power? I was so confused. How could someone find their own power horrifying and alienating? How could power push away what you desire when power was all about being able to take? Why did I…Alex…no, it was definitely me/him. There was something I could never have, no matter what I did. She would never love me, and there was nothing I could ever do about it. I could have any worldly thing in the world but not her heart.

Did Tanya understand this feeling? Were we really just the variations of the same person simply born of different circumstances, like the ancient scroll said?

Ugh, my head really hurt. This was all too much, too fast.

How did Mary Canary even function at all with Alex/me inflicted upon her?

A new thought thankfully flashed in my mind, and the weakness of confusion left me. "I could make bodies for Tanya and me," I declared energetically. "We could live separately from Sonata. All I need to do is acquire Avgust's Mandate, and I can make it happen."

"None of that matters if you are not in control of yourself," Doubt cried. "Don't confuse having power with being a slave to it. I don't want you to suffer like I did with the Type-95."

I ignored Doubt again. What did she know about having power control you?

Lightning massaged my scalp. I could feel so much more information flushing through my head, and I couldn't keep up. It felt like it was pushing stuff out of the way to make using Power easier.

The ancients said that who you really are is revealed when you have power. I just had to prove to Doubt that I could help Tanya with Alex's Mandate, and Doubt will go away. Getting Avgust's power and creating bodies for us would surely kill Doubt, so I can just spend time with Tanya without that nag.

I guess I could just move out of Tanya's soul, and then Sonata would not exist anymore.

That was wrong…

What did Power's right care about Sonata's wrong?! If Sonata cannot exist without me, that is her fault.

Then I felt a one-armed hug. My eyes welled up, and tears flowed. It was clearly just because Doubt was like a walking sun and hurting my eyes. I wasn't suffering. I wasn't weak like that. Tanya needed me to be strong so she could be safe and heal. She deserved to be happy. I had this power, so I had to be responsible. We all had our jobs, and mine was to be strong and impervious — for her, for everyone.

Why did it feel like I was in some kind of loop going nowhere?

"Please come back, Sonnetto," Doubt begged. Lighting wracked her small body, leaving second-degree burns where it went in and out of her body. That had to hurt a lot for someone as weak as her. How could she tolerate it? Why would she? "We were both being corrupted by his Mandate, but I think you didn't notice it. Right now, it is completely your head messing with your thoughts. I am trying to help you, but you have to work with me to push out the mana. Sonnetto. Please."

"Doubt, I am done having monsters rule over us. With this power, I can destroy all the bastards in the world and give you what you want — a peaceful life in a cozy job. There, you will be able to finally heal and no longer worry about the world flipping itself upside down."

"Sonnetto, I don't care about any of that," she cried despite the immense pain she must be in just to get close to me.

"Then, what is it that you care about?" I inquired, confused by this foolish Individual creature of Doubt. "I will protect it for you. I am using this power for Tanya, after all."

"I care about you!"

It felt like a smack to my face for some reason.

"Sonnetto, please, I don't want to lose you," the half-mandate whimpered in my side. "You have to fight this."

I instinctively shut my eyes as her light burned even more brightly, and Doubt sought to oust Power from my crown and replace it with…nothing.

I tried to open my eyes. It hurt so much.

"We are fighting to protect peace," Solidarity insisted. "I thought you were done being taken advantage of. You are stronger than this mana. Remember our mission. Remember me. Remember us."

My head hurt as Solidary joined in the mix with the Individual Doubt to produce a potent Purpose Mana in the war in my head.

My lightning recoiled from her light, sparing the diminutive form clinging to me with her one 'good' arm for dear life.

"I wanted to talk to you about something significant after the mission, but what is going on now has changed my plans," Purpose stated. "For starters, I know I am bad at many things, especially. Still, I was hoping that when this mission is over, we will finally do something to acknowledge what we have together semi-officially. It was not easy keeping it a secret. I had to work discreetly with Matheus, Elya, and Khuyana over the last couple of months."

I didn't understand what Purpose was saying. She needed to say what she meant. I disliked it when people didn't waste their words on vaguities. It reminded me too much of Alex and his pontificating. However, as I forced myself to open my eyes, even though it hurt like the hells, I couldn't find it in my heart to dislike Tanya for tiptoeing around words she struggled to say. She was so beautiful at that moment.

Despite all the damage Tanya had suffered because of…

What have I done?

Power got shoved way down, and horror and panic became me.

Yet, Tanya pressed forward, continuing to speak through the pain she must be in.

"Sonnetto, would you, and I know this is a lot, but would you—"

Tanya couldn't finish what she was going to say as a magic-guided rock whacked her in the side of her head. I watched as she fell to the ground, unconscious and bleeding from a potentially serious head wound. Then, I turned my gaze towards countless cloaked figures who had found perches along the ravine walls above us. Warriors with stone-age weapons surrounded us, and one just knocked out arguably the most powerful woman in the world.




The Icey Ravine in Mary Canary's Soul - September 1954

Athena of the Blue Rose had hurriedly put on her armor but arrived at the battle late. Unlike most of the exiles, she actually had quality gear. When the mages like her sense that phony Alexander's mana out of his cave prison, the militia scrambled to intercept him. If he could be defeated, then maybe the people would understand how much of a liar and a coward the Rumelian King really was. Athena had trained every day in this spiritual wasteland since her exile for daring to question his lies about the Republic's situation in the cave.

It wasn't easy out here in the frigid wastes. Still, they made it work.

That is if Alexander hasn't left his cave to finish us off.

No, he won't finish them off. Athena would defeat him….

Feeling his power in the distance reminded the warrior of the days when she was still alive — not trapped in this hellhole where butterflies created tornadoes that would randomly whisk you and your house away to unknown places.

'Athena Parthenos [trans. The Virgin],' the Rumelian army called her. It was definitely better than 'Athena, the battlemaniac who made Alexander look like a pacifist.'

Roxanne could never understand what it was like for her, Athena thought. The warrior had to go against every convention to get recognition in the male-dominated world in which she was raised. It was thanks to Olympia (Alexander's Mother) recognizing Athena's talents not only as a spear-user but as a teacher of military arts that led to her becoming the then Prince Alexander's combat instructor.

When Athena arrived in the icy ravine, she didn't see Alexander but Roxanne torturing some poor tiny woman with massive black and silver hair that flowed literally like water. In her periphery vision, she could see her most reckless protege, David the Giant, readying his sling to attack.

Even he isn't dumb enough to attack without my order.

"Everyone, listen up," the armored woman shouted. "I don't know why Roxanne is here, but she has the tyrant's divinity. I need—"

Whack!

A stone hit the shorter woman square in the head, completely missing Roxanne.

"Damn it, David! Everyone spread out. David saved the girl. She is seriously injured. I will see if I can reason with an old acquaintance."

The Bactrian super-mage stared at the collapsing woman as Athena carefully walked with a mana-infused spear in hand. She didn't want to provoke Roxanne, but everything about her posture and the glow in her eyes made it clear that she wasn't in her right mind. The woman with several second-degree burns from lightning shocks lying on the ground next to Roxanne definitely made it clear that the Empress was quite violent these days somehow.

"We can talk about this, Roxy," Athena called out. "Remember me? I know we weren't friends at all. It was mean of me to call you a pushover and privileged princess. I am sorry now. We don't have to fight."

Her warriors fanned out as planned. David took a few steps closer to the downed female figure on the ground. Then lightning blasted out of Roxxane's form. Several of them were disintegrated and sent to the next life.

Roxanne turned to face Athena and charged with a Zhangzi blade. The Rumelian warrior raised her shield.

"So much for civil conversation," the warrior commented, blocking the attack easily. "Retreat everyone. You can't fight her. I will hold her off."

Roxanne was no Alexander. She didn't know Rumelian magical techniques. Her blade didn't even have any mana infusion.

"You are such an amateur," Athena jeered. "Really, how did a posh noble like you end up here in the middle of the tundra with your husband's power."

Roxanne had her fancy silks and everything. She looked every bit of the soft matron that Athena remembered the Bactrian princess being. Still, it was clear the woman was no amateur with a blade. A hodgepodge of sword techniques, including both Rumelian and Bactrian, were included.

Athena saw an opening and took a stab that would for sure kill the not-so-amateur alchemist.

"Got you!"

Thorn, the Rumelian's spear, hit true, or so it seemed. An afterimage of someone who looked a lot like Roxanne but had short white hair had taken her place and then faded away.

Athena spun around and quickly deflected a blast of a shotgun off her shield.

"You think you can surprise me with your husband's tricks?" she shouted. "I am the one who trained him to be a Warrior of the Mind [song], and you are far worse. You know the illusion you cast should look like you. Do you need a mirror to remind you how much of a cow you are?"

While the shotgun had surprised her, Athena's soul form had a mask that hid her expression. It was essential to bluff and to piss people off. The more incensed the opponent became, the better. Athena would never talk like this in a polite conversation, but everything was fair in love and war.

The verbal jab proved effective as Roxanne's remaining wits seemed to leave her as she reabsorbed her weapon into a tattoo and pulled her hand back. Lightning filled her hand as she prepared to use Alex's legendary weapon - The Wrath of Zeus. Like a hoplite, Roxanne flung the bolt of pure mana at Athena. Any other warrior would have been deterred.

Every day, I have waited for this moment, she thought as she effortlessly deflected the blast off her shield and thrust her spear forward, sending an optical formula through it.

AD_4nXdof9NssdXWm-NZ3WfZFwKRmCZM9d_wRF2tC-VppiAiodEhCsaTw6q7Z0QlysWGdloddSU6BP9wCFPlDDFw30dzr9d0Hw4uyOAiUqXZzyH-20vq_9pA7gtCvpy23T52kN9QEilvYQ

Athena of the Blue Rose - Soul Form, commissioned from Naze

The Wrath of Zeus tore into the side of the ravine, causing huge chunks of ice and rock to collapse in the distance, but Thorn's attack struck true, carving a hole out of Roxanne's abdomen. The woman had a look of utter surprise as she collapsed onto the ground.

"I don't know how you got Alex's power, Roxanne," Athena stated as she went to the dying body. "But there is no way you can beat me by copying him and having all the same weaknesses. I am better than he is at war, even if he refused to acknowledge it and exiled me for it. When I meet you in the next life, I hope we can be friends instead. I might not care for peaceful motherhood like you did, but I never actually held a grudge against you. You fought surprisingly well."

The warrior tried to relax but something was keeping her battle nerves on full alarm. She was still in grave danger but couldn't figure out why.

"Hey, Captain, what should I do with the poor girl?" David's voice came out of nowhere, causing Athena to jump a few meters back with armor-assisted strength.

"What are you still doing here?!"

"You told me to rescue the girl," the nearly two-meter-tall giant of a man retorted as he carefully picked up the woman with wavy hair into a princess carry. Her body seemed so frail and tiny in his large arms.

"Roxy must have really hated her to do all this to her," he commented, indicating all the nasty burn marks. "I don't think we have supplies to take care of this young maiden back in camp. She is still breathing at least, but she might pass onto the next life at this rate."

Athena still couldn't calm down. Something was wrong, but no matter where she looked, nothing seemed odd yet.

"You will have to take her to Frozen Heart Manor. The nobleman there might be…off, but be patient with him. He probably suffered a lot in his life. As for Roxy, she always had a conviving streak to her. She killed Alex's second wife, Stateira, you know that?"

"What, really? I didn't know that."

As she told the story, they started jogging down the path to the manor. The story didn't seem to affect her gut feeling that something powerful was about to attack them. It at least calmed David, who was definitely anxious about caring for a woman who might pass away if he made another mistake. It was clear that he felt bad for pelting her on the side of the head.

"It was after you and that tyrant died. Everyone was trying to control the court. The Macedonian faction feared the so-called 'Persianization' of the Magna Rumeli — the whole nativist nonsense Alexander had been trying to stop with his whole 'shepherd of all humanity' in his 'Golden Republic' ideal. While I don't know for certain, I heard from Plutarch that she plotted with Perdiccas to get Stateira and Drypetis killed."

"Why?"

"I don't know, actually. I would ask her, but she is dead."

David glanced back at Roxanne's body. "It is odd how her body doesn't disappear like it does for us."

"Huh?"

"You know, like if she is dead dead, shouldn't her body be gone by now?"

"DAVID, RUN!!!"

"What?"

She shoved him forward just in time as Roxanne's body reanimated and practically teleported to them with hands encased in lightning. A moment later, he would have been dead. The ground where he had just been standing exploded with highly condense mana and lightning.

David quickly skaddaled, making the most of his second chance at the after life while Athena tackled the enraged Empress to slow her down.

Roxanne looked like she was shouting at them, but not a sound came out of her mouth. The woman in silks pulled out a pistol out of nowhere. Even in Athena's grip, the pistol seemed to aim true at David but it must have missed.

No, it didn't miss.

Alexander's curse!

Roxanne summoned inky wings that boosted the two of them forward, even with Athena pushing as much mana into her armor's vector formulae as possible to reverse direction. She might be an ace, but the Divinity of Fear and Control was Powerful for a reason.

"David, help me!"

"What? I need to get this woman to healthcare."

"I can't hold her for long, but you can help me."

"How?!"

"She can't hurt you as long as you have that woman in your arms!"

"What? Really?"

"Yes, so even you can defeat her."

"Hey!"

"Less complaining, and more heeeeeeelllllppppping."

Roxanne spun around rapidly, flinging Athena into the wall of the ravine. Her impact left a crater behind her, knocked the breath out of her lungs, and caused a bunch of snow to avalanche on her.

Athena barely got herself out of the snow in time to see David try to fight a Goddess with two hands occupied. Roxanne kept trying to pull the woman into her abdomen, it seemed. It was like the black-and-silver-haird woman was literally made of ink and getting absorbed into the Empress. It was the most bizarre thing. Tears were coming out of the woman's eyes. No matter what she did, Roxanne's attacks just bounced off him. Roxanne would stay powerless as long as she was afraid of David.


The battle ended anti-climatically when David accidentally headbutted Roxanne, knocking the woman unconscious.

"Your thick head is good for something, after all!" Athena jeered. Her enchanted armor boosted her out of the snow.

"Hey, that is awfully mean, Captain. What did I do wrong?"

"First, you got to be ready for insults. Your enemy won't be as kind as me. Second, I am pretty sure you are the entire reason why Roxanne wants to kill us."

"Well, first, you were way meaner than Roxy! Second, huh?"

Athena rolled her eyes at him and explained everything he had done wrong. The guy overestimated himself too much and acted without thinking.

While the warrior trained her student, she quickly skewered Roxanne with her spear, Thorn. Channeling some mana into it, the spear's spikes grew out of it. This transformation not only anchored the spear into the ground but also made it practically impossible to remove without causing extreme pain. Athena knew that despite Roxanne's resurrection trick, the woman clearly still had emotions and felt pain. The Bactrian Princess would have had to change a lot in the last decade or so to be able to handle the pain required to free herself.

Everything about the woman's appearance indicated someone who lived a pleasant and peaceful life in the rear, surrounded by bureaucrats.

Ugh, who wants that? Not me.

Yet, everything about how Roxanne fought indicated someone with training but losing control. She reminded Athena of how Alexander was when his powers first came to the surface. He just couldn't control them. The more he tried to, the less control over himself he had. It was constantly flowing out of his fingers.

That was the trick with it. You couldn't take shortcuts for more power and knowledge. Alexander had to earn it. Until then, he had to balance his power by embracing Weakness. It allowed him to limit his divinity and actually have the Control he needed to train. As his height increased over the years, so did the potential power he could wield. That was why Athena had been called on to save him from himself.

It was unfortunate that the man had let the power start going to his head after his death. He wouldn't even admit he had died.

'I think he missed Roxanne and the others a lot because he was stuck here without them,' Athena thought as the two of them ran as quickly as they could to the Frozen Heart Manor before the pretty princess reanimated again.

It was because of fear for their safety after he died that the so-called philosopher king fell into bad habits. Alexander kept pretending things weren't wrong when they very much were. People started getting exiled left, right, and center. If he didn't stop, the Republic would hit a critical point, and many people would get hurt. That was why Alexander needed to be defeated.

When he was alive, Alexander had never seemed afraid. As long as his loved ones were far from danger, he could fight without fear—at least, that was what the tyrant claimed. Magna Rumeli's fate depended on his family's safety. That was why the Macedonian nativists didn't kill Roxanne and her son earlier. They didn't want their most powerful weapon—Alexander—to die on them and the empire to fall apart. Macedonians were treated like barbarians before Alexander came along and changed everything.

The big problem was that just because Roxanne and the others were safe in Athens did not mean that Alexander's heart wouldn't be open to including even more family in his heart. The long campaign had brought Alexander closer to his mentor and friend, Patroclus. There was this big siege they were doing in the Himalayas, but Alexander wouldn't leave his tent. Some had speculated Patroclus and him were at it again, but when Patroclus came out with Alexander's armor, it was clear that something else was wrong.

Only a few knew the truth — Alexander's power would burn out. The previous battle before the siege had seen Patroclus' life threatened, and it had left Alexander in his cursed enfeeble state. The enemy took quick advantage of their missing ace. Countless of their number fell in battle. By the time the tyrant recovered his power in the showy way he always did — being struck by lightning, Patroclus had already died. Without his enchanted breastplate, his heart was laid bare to an American sniper who had backed the remnants of the Persian army led by the king-killer Bessus.

Well, Roxanne was the king-killer now, apparently. There was no other way to get a god's power than by killing them and being a god yourself. That did beg the question: Was Roxanne a goddess the whole time? What was she the goddess of? Death?

That would make her Hades, who was also known as Pluto, Omega, the Goddess of Revenge and Justice, the Goddess of Cycles and Closure, and, most intimidatingly, the End. The ancient legends said that Hades was cursed to hunt her enemy for all eternity, blinded by revenge and prejudice, and unable to see how the curse caused her, only to hurt her 'allies'. She would become the enemy of her friends but evade punishment herself. The curse would only get more debilitating the more she tried to get revenge.

Well, that explains both why Alexander's curse activated and presumably the curse of Hades — Roxanne had ended up hurting her loved one. She was blinded by power and cursed to hurt the ones she cared about. For this woman's sake, she needs to be as far away from Roxanne as possible.

At least until Roxanne is convinced to give up the power divinity willingly,
Athena concluded.






An Apartment in Legadonia - September 1954

"ACHOOO!"

"Prosit."

"Thanks, Vivian," Mary Sue replied, sniffling. "It hit me all at once."

"Maybe someone is talking about you," her roommate commented.

"If someone is talking about me, it isn't ever anything good."

"You keep saying you expect people to be really mad at you but look at you — Magical Senior Officer in Interpol working at the Hague Prison."

"But Armstrong doesn't even let me be in charge of anyone. All I do silly missions or stand guard. You would think that catching the most wanted criminal in the world would make me a famous investigator but no. Everyone is talking about Jing-wei and her 'Murder on the Zhangzi Express'."

Vivian pulled Mary into a hug. "I know it isn't fair."

"Thank you."

"Not all of us can write as well as Jing-wei," the roommate added, earning her a sarcastic shove. "Hey, you got to admit her reports read like convoluted murder mysteries. The way she solved the Murder of Roger Lackroyd was truly ingenious."

"She can only solve those mysterious because Fred Ho is there, going uncover or pulling key facts at key moments."

"Honestly, I feel like he ruins it and takes away from Jing-wei's spotlight. He feels more like a deus ex machina."

"Vivian, Agent Ho is my co-worker, not a plot device."

The other woman burst out laughing. "You got to stop it with the straight man routine, girl. It doesn't fit you."

"What is that suppose to meeeeeaaaaannnnn?! You always say these cryptic things."

"You will find out when you are older."

"I am 44 years old!"

"Exactly, still young enough to figure out who you really are."

Mary Sue groaned. She never understood Vivian. Everything she said just went over her head. The two of them had gotten super close these last two years. After they moved in together, Vivian got upset about something regarding 'leading her on'. When Mary explained she had no idea what her roommate meant, there was this extremely long pause and followed by Vivian's face going in a million different indecipherable directions. It all ended with Vivian being sad for Mary for some reason.

Vivian was about to leave back then, saying it would be for the best, but after all their time together, it just broke Mary's heart to see her go. Mary promised to be with Vivian always and that led them to countless conversation like this.

One time, Vivian once told Mary that she thought the angel-like mage was 'super gay'. Mary didn't feel all that happy at the time. Saying so only made Vivian stare at Mary very concernedly.

Another time, her roommate tried to claim Mary liked women, to which she said, 'of course, she does. Doesn't everyone?' Vivian, by that point, had gone from pitying Mary to just going with it.

Yesterday, after church and praying that all the evil communists like Tanya would just stop causing chaos in the world, Vivian asked what Mary would do if she found out either of them were homosexual. To this, Mary had Sonnetto's wisdom to draw on. Vivian was really surprised as the faithful Interpol Officer proved she knew so much about the homosexuals like how they didn't have devil horns or worshipped the devil.

Well…aside from Tanya von Weiss…but that was the only one like that. It should have been obvious that Tanya was an odd one. Tanya became distressed whenever religious symbols were thrust in her face — like a vampire in the movies. The priest said General Secretary Ivan Smirnov was the anti-Silver and his army was filled with atheists who had sold their souls and became demons. Tanya was an atheist. Communists were atheists. Therefore, Tanya was a communist. That was the logic her boss keeps stressing her to learn. Tanya had Mary going for awhile, but when that Albish person came with all that evidence connecting Tanya with all sorts of crimes and connections with terrorist organizations, Tanya being the Devil at the service of the Russy Federation became abundantly clear! Even some of the tabloids had started just calling her a communist terrorist.

As for other lesbians, Tanya and Sonnetto had taught Mary where they frequent. The bar in Berun where they had the foreign cartoons and she met Vivian — probably had other lesbians who visited it occassionally. Since lesbians were like one in a million people, Mary reckoned, it had to be a tiny percentage of the clientele of even lesbian bars. Most of the women were probably like Mary who had come for the anime but liked men.

After several times bonding over their very similar interests, Mary told Vivian if she (Vivian) ever figured out that she liked women, that Mary would accept her. That just caused her roommate to need a few minutes to calm down for some reason, after which Vivian came out of her room to confess that she was a homosexual and liked Mary. The Angel of the Lord was flabbergasted. Did Vivian figure that out all during a span of a couple minutes? Was it because Mary expertly explained what lesbians were and that triggered Vivian to figure it out?

Mary really pitied Vivian if it were, but it wasn't. Discussing all the thing things Vivian felt were all things Mary felt too for her, but the evidence that prove all of that irrelevant was that Vivian had fallen for a man before and Mary was currently attempting to make a relationship with one. While Mary would never want to be apart from Vivian and had all sorts of thoughts — constantly…all the time…it made work hard somedays and praying didn't do anything because the greatest God — the one who possesses the Mantle of Faith must be testing her…

"Earth to Mary?" Vivian asked, waving a hand in front of the Interpol officer's face.

"Huh? Wha?"

"You were thinking gay thoughts again."

"No, I wasn't. Only serious thoughts. The most serious and holy ones."

"Oh, how I want to make you worship—" Vivian coughed in her hand. "Anyways, you have work today, right?"

Mary nodded externally, but, on the inside, she was shaking her head. No matter what the Angel did, Vivian always said the darndest things. How could someone be someone be so clueless? Mary didn't know. Thankfully, her roommate had Mary to help her see reason.

"I am going to cafe for breakfast," Mary proclaimed with pep back her step. Maybe, she would get Vivian sweet. Watching her smile just brought so much joy to Mary. "Do you want to come with me?"

"I would," her roommate pouted and gestured to her type-writer. "But alas, I need to finish writing my article for the paper."

Vivian was a journalist and, by the looks of it, she was half done with her article.

"That is too bad. Should I given Esben your regards?"

"Wait, Esben? He is going to be there?!"

"Of course, I have a date with him before I go to work."

"Okay, I am coming!" Vivian declared with mana filling her eyes.

How determine! So cute!

"I thought you had a paper though?" Mary inquired with a slightly depressed voice.

"I do, but nothing is more important than love."

It was so nice that Vivian was their to support Mary in realizing who her soulmate was. Vivian was such a great person. Mary just loved Vivian too much.

"Yippee, we get to go together," the Angel-like goddess jumped with joy.

In just a few blocks, the two roommates arrived at the bakery and found an irate Esben.

They got their meal and sat down.

"Why is she here?" the man questioned, pointing at Vivian accusatorily.

"I always take Vivian on dates."

"Like often?" he wondered as her roommate giggled.

"Always means always. Are you dumb? As often as I date, yes."

The man looked horrified. "Why?"

"Because we are a package deal," Vivian whispered for some reason and pulled Mary's arm into her torso.

The angel felt her face heat up, and she had to down her water.

"Mary, is this true?" Esben demanded. "And why are you drinking so fast."

The Angel of the Lord cleared her throat. "Of course. Vivian and I have already promised we will be together for all always, and I never break my promises! I am very serious about this. And…um as for the other thing, I am just very thirsty today."

Vivian giggled. Esben paled.

"Have you two um?" he asked.

"Us two what?" Mary countered, confused. Why couldn't he just accept Vivian being around her?

"You know."

"Know what?"

Vivian decided to tag in. "You will have to be specific with Mary or she won't get your meaning."

"I am sorry," Mary added. "I have always been very straightforward. My mother says I got it from my father."

Esben's gaze bounced between the two of them rapidly. "Um have you two done it?"

"Done what? If you mean if Vivian and I do stuff together, of course, we do. Every day, as much as we can, and Vivian is always coming up with something new for us to try."

The man pulled at his collar and then started drinking from his own glass.

Mary just couldn't figure out what was so controversial about a woman having a lifelong roommate. Any husband would have to accept that Mary preferred spending time with Vivian over pretty much everything else these days. What they had went way beyond friendship. Mary had no idea what to call it in any other way. Also, Esben should be fine Mary's relationship with Vivian. Like Sonnetto had told her all those years ago, this was a new age of possibilities.

They ate quietly for the next couple minutes. The guy she had thought was handsome and confident suddenly look lost for words as if he found himself in a world lacking common sense. Mary pitied him. It seemed common sense was just not as common in this age as the term would suggest, and Esben lacked it. She could blame him. It was the world that was insane, and it made insane people who never meant what they meant and did the most awful things.

The guy suddenly got his courage enough to whisper his next question. "So if we um do—" He made a hand gesture that couldn't be misunderstood even by Mary. "Would Mrs. Vivian be there too?"

The Angel's face went bright red at the thought. "Are you a pig?"

"What? What is wrong?"

"You are having a relationship with me. Only me. You and Vivian can be friends, sure, but what would the Lord think?"

"So you want both Vivian and me all to yourself," he retorted with more confusion than anger in his voice.

"Hey," Mary's roommate interjected. "Don't go assuming that I would be part of something like that with you."

Vivian was so right to be upset at this guy. Such a pig, thinking he gets to have two attractive partners to himself.

"So if we have a relationship," Esben followed up. "We will only get to do it when you are with Vivian?"

"Obviously."

Was this guy just figuring it out that it would be weird to have your friend there when doing something so intimate and romantic? Really, Mary didn't know if the guy ever dated before. If he brought his own bestie to the date, he would have been able to be a good wingman and give him some pointers.

"But you spend all your time with Vivian! Every day."

"Well, not all my time."

"Okay…." Esben tentatively let himself have some hope.

"Like still I have to go to work. We have this very important prisoner right now named—"

"For Goddess Sake!"

"You shouldn't take Nike's name in vane! I thought you said you were faithful."

"I thought you were!"

"I am. Right, Vivian?"

The woman in question giggle and nodded. "I love you, Mary."

Why would she say something like that so suddenly? And such a strong word to use in Legadonian. People might get the wrong idea? "Of course, and I just the same. But I mean that I never turn my back on my those I care about."

She was no traitor to the Goddess of Victory, her loved ones, or her teammate!

Esben slammed the table, dumped a bunch of coins on the table, and marched off.

"The Lord does not approve of what you two are doing!" he proclaimed loudly, getting attention of the other attendants of the bakery.

Fortunately, Mary and Vivian knew this bakery quite well, so she wasn't worried about his outburst making a big scene. The Friendship Association (Freundschaftsverband) symbol out front made it clear that they understood the special relationships like the two roommates had very well. Mary always took Vivian to places that had symbols like that because it meant people who were very good friends could just be themselves.

However, Mary couldn't just let his words stand.

"I know the Goddess of Victory would 100% be accepting of what Vivian and my relationship!" she shouted back in a huff.

"The God of Faith hates you and people like you," he retorted. He gave Mary that look that just said 'You Freak!' It wasn't her fault she was a mutant. Plus, she looked like an Angel! Just a bit different than expected. It wasn't like she could have butterfly wings or something pretty like that instead of wings tinged crimson.

Vivian got between them. "I am sorry, Esben," her roommate said for some bizarre reason. Why was she apologizing to him? "It is my fault that things got this far. I will talk to her. This was a big misunderstanding."

"So…she doesn't?" he wondered aloud with a look like he has a massive headache.

"It is best you just forget you ever met her and move on," Vivian answered, pulling Mary in close together. Once he was gone, she addressed the Angel-like mage directly. "Okay there is something very important we really need to make clear that way something like never happens again."

Goddess, help me, Mary thought as Vivian took her somewhere more private. Somehow, the Angel felt deep in her gut Nike wasn't getting her out of trouble anytime soon.






The Frozen Heart Manor in Mary Canary's Soulspace - September 1954
(Tanya's POV)


"Ah…Ah…AHHHHH."

I tried to hold it in.

"Oh, you—"

"ACHHHOOO!"

Someone must be talking about me. That is never good.

"Будьте здоровы!"

"Thank you," I replied as I groaned myself awake.

My everything hurt, and I definitely had a concussion.

"How feel?" the masculine voice at my side said in broken Germanian.

"Like I am in Normandy still."

I tried to get up and immediately regretted it.

"Oh, don't get up. You injured. You died almost."

Almost died? How many times have I heard that?

"Where am I?" she muttered.

"My home," a different, vaguely familiar voice stated with an aristocratic Germanian accent.

"And that is?"

"In Mary's Soul, I assume if you appeared in the ravine, you probably already know me."

Mary? Sue?...Ugh, I hated that woman. I just wish she found her soulmate already and stopped annoying the prisoners with her relationship struggles. We have been getting complaints. Though I would love to hear how Himmler reacts. Sometimes…insufferably unprofessional work behavior had a place.

Wait! Did the guy say 'soul'?

I opened my eyes, and then everything came back to me.

'This is Tanya: Sonnetto, where are you? Are you alright? Over.' I called through my (not faith!) Purpose Mandate.

'This is Sonnetto: Yes, I am with Mary Canary right now. I just have a bit of a predicament right now. Over.'

Hopefully, it wasn't something seriously, but peeking at her thoughts made it clear it wasn't.

"You alright, ma'am?" the doctor with a Russy accent asked with a worried expression.

I groaned. "Compared to her, I am peachy."

Then a well-built man knelt next to me. He had a soul form filled with cracked repaired with 'ice'. Having seen plenty of people with PTSD in their soul forms like Elya, I knew that this man had some quite fierce. Given his nice clothes, he must have been the aristocrat from earlier.

Who was he?

"My name is Avgust Zimir. What is yours, young miss?"

Dread filled my gut. This guy might kill me if I answer incorrectly. What did he call me the last time we fought? 'The Communist Killer?' Yeah, he probably has a grudge for that whole attack on Moscva.

Despite this, why do I simultaneously feel some woman is calling out to me in joy?

I must have been hit in the head harder than I thought.

'This is Sonnetto: Oh, I had to push Alex out of my soul so I could think clearly, but I couldn't. Over.'

'This is Tanya: Why? Over.'

'This is Sonnetto: Because I promised him an opportunity to talk to his son so our Soul Pact prevents me from letting him pass on until he does that. Over.'

'This is Tanya: Why are you telling me this? Over.'

'This is Sonnetto: Because his body has formed in the land of the living through the Type 95 I think and I don't know how to bring him back until he finishes his promise. Over.'


Great…how could this get any worse than having a dead king pop up randomly in the middle of a secret bunker in the middle of München?

"Miss?" Avgust pressed. "You can hear me."

The world just had to remind me how.
 
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Chapter 25: This is (Not) a Game New
Previously on Mages of Interpol 15:
Mission: Rescue Mary Canary

  • C21: Amber "Calamity" Canary is on trial in the Francois Republic for killing a non-mage Silver Legionist.
  • C22: Tanya and Sonnetto travel through soul space in order to stop Mary Canary from being used as a Superweapon. They need Amber Canary to help guide them to her sister's soul and listen to Calamity's Freedom Week story.
  • C23: Alexander Magnus offers Sonnetto a deal to take possession of his soul, and she accepts despite the danger.
  • C24: Sonnetto goes berserk, injuring Tanya severely. Two souls defeat the maddened Sonnetto and deliver Tanya's body to the Frozen Manor where Tanya receives urgent medical attention and meets Avgust Zimir.




Frozen Heart Manor in Avgust Zimir's section of Mary Canary's Soul - September 1954

"What is your name, Miss? You can hear me."

"It is—"

None of your business? That would be rude. I don't want to aggravate the Red Guard mage. This man eats capitalists for breakfast, according to the file we received from command during the war. I don't know if that was an exaggeration, propaganda, or what, but I didn't want to find out.

Tanya von Weiss? He probably knew that my name was the Devil of the Rhine. Even if he didn't, I didn't want to risk the communists knowing that. There was no telling what information he could pass along to people who wanted me dead.

"Miss?"

"Viktoriya Ivanona Serbryakov!"

I panicked. It was the first name I could think of.

Visha, forgive me.

'Huh? What?!'


I accidentally messaged my former adjutant and startled her. After quickly apologizing, I waited for Avgust's response.

The well-built aristocrat scrutinized my blushing face, which had been caused by the embarrassing mistake of my solidarity connection. He leaned back to give me more space.

"Oh, I am sorry, young lady. I didn't mean to come across as… anyway."

I had no idea what he was talking about.

"You don't have to worry," I replied simply. "I was not offended by you being so close."

I had been in cramped spaces with others during the war all the time. I thought it made sense to pair me with the largest soldier since I was the smallest. It was simply the most efficient use of space. Visha always insisted that I stick with her, however, for some reason, and then would try to explain the birds and bees to me. When I told her that it wasn't necessary since I knew all about that, the woman badgered me for countless details about my childhood. I had to make a cover story because, admittedly, at the time, most of my knowledge had come from my past life.

Now, most of my knowledge comes from this one. It was nice to have someone who loved and held you. I don't know if I could really describe it. Sonnetto was always better at using words to explain these things than I was.

I still wonder, however, what had gotten Visha into such a panic. Sonnetto would probably tell me it was something I did that I said or did that was the problem.

Looking back to Avgust, he had gone stock still. I couldn't read his face, but his energy was of someone uneasy or threatened or afraid. What had I done wrong? He must be suspicious of the name. I guess it makes sense. I look nothing like what a person expects a Serbryakov to look like, I assume.

The man coughed in his hand. "Noted. Still, I am sorry, young lady. I don't think you understand my intentions. I would like just to speak as equals, as comrades. Nothing more, if you understand."

"Then, please don't call me young lady. I am older than I look."

In fact, I was older than him if you factor in both of my lifetimes. I should be calling him young man, honestly. Regardless, anyone calling me a young lady just ticked me off these days. Eternal youth often may make it hard to gauge the age of war mages, but when people aren't sure, they should just ask instead of assuming.

After my statement, Avgust became even more on edge. He must have been onto me. What was I doing wrong? It was so aggravating not to have Sonnetto, Matheus, or Visha here to help me.

"You are sure Serbryakova is your name?" he inquired. "It was why I was looking at your face."

I knew it. He saw through my pathetic lie, but I didn't have a good backup plan. I had no other choice but to double down.

"Yes, it is," I lied. "At least, that is what the orphanage told me."

"Orphanage? Do you happen to know the names of your parents?"

"I don't remember them, sorry," I answered. It was the truth. I don't know anything about my parents other than my father was a soldier or something like that.

He looked at me with pity. We exchanged other pleasantries, and he said the house was free for me to explore and that some kids would visit me later.

Those kids were probably spies. The Old Federation was messed up like that. The ends always justify the means. It was why there was no reason with them. You just had to play along.

The first person to visit me was not a child but a giant of a man named David. He kept on telling me how he had heroically saved me from near death. I had a slight concussion, so I didn't quite remember what happened after Sonnetto started acting weird. I assume she knows I didn't know I blamed her for anything that happened.

As for David, he followed up his tale by lying about me looking beautiful even though I knew I must have been rather unpresentable with all my burn wounds. Despite magical healing, I still had scabs all over that would need time to recover. The guy would also glance at me nervously repeatedly throughout our conversation. I never trusted any so-called warrior who couldn't look me in the eye.

This guy definitely needed a lot of work, and when his mentor came in to fetch him, I told her. She wholeheartedly agreed. It brought back good memories of seeing his reaction to the promise of more training. Fang never reacted like that. It had been far too long.

Regardless, after those two 'Revolutionaries against Power' left, someone decided to use my solidarity connection to send me a message. I could quickly tell it wasn't a thought I would normally have despite everything coming through in my mental voice. It actually made it worse.

"Kami-sama, I need your help."

I groaned. My brain could just hear the Akinese being spliced into a sentence like that. Who did that? Definitely not any of my friends. Regardless, I had better figure out what was going on.

"What is the problem? Over."

"Kami-sama! Is that you!"

"Don't call me that, please. It really gets on my nerves. Just talk to me like a normal person. Also, what is the problem? Over."

"I will try, Kam— Mister."

"Mrs."

"You are a woman?!"

"Yes, of course I am! For crying out loud, if you are contacting me, you know me."


What did I do to give the impression that I was a man? I adjusted my sitting posture on my bed self-consciously.

"I mean, I do. I am sorry, Kam— Mrs! We have a very close relationship, or at least, I thought we did."

Was this person one of my exes? What was this whole worshipful tone? I knew Tammie got weirdly religious on me when she saw my Type-95 form. We had to break up after that. It was important to have boundaries, and Tammie definitely crossed it when she tried to convert me. I was really getting the 'I have the power of god and anime on my side' vibe from the caller.

Before I could ask who was calling me, the other person went about her problem.

"So, my roommate and I have been living together for a couple of years, and she just told me that she loves me."

"Okay…."

"She thinks I love her too."

"Do you…?"


Whoever this was on the other side of the solidarity connection blathered on and on about what had happened between some woman named Vivian without really answering my question. I groaned. I hate having conversations that never get to the point. I have places to go—lives hang in the balance. If I weren't in a frilly room all alone, I would have done the magical equivalent of hanging up.

"Sorry to interrupt. [I wasn't] But why are you telling me this?"

"Because you are Kam—. Um, What should I call you, oh divine one?"


I rubbed my temple. I was way too old for this. "Tanya."

"Your name is Tanya…."

"Who did you think you were talking to?"

"It is just that name is. Uh, how should I put this."

"What is wrong with my name?"

"Everyone knows that is the same name as the Devil of the Rh—."

"Stop. I know. I could change it to get people off my back. I won't for reasons that are hard to explain. Okay. Again, do you love her?"


The other person got all flustered and stumbled on her words so much that she couldn't express herself, even with her spirit. Eventually, a very quiet 'yes' came out.

"Pathetic. If you love someone, say it louder. Show me you are really committed."

I knew I was being a hypocrite, but it was always easier to tell other people to do things than do them yourself. Also, old habits of asking the most of my troops die hard. I summoned a paper fan and tapped my knee, which made me feel more official.

"I love her."

"Louder!"

"I love her!"

"LOUDER!"

"I LOVE HER!"

"That is more like it, soldier,"
I praised the other person. "Now go tell her."

"Thanks, Tanya-sama, but it is a bit hard right now. For starters, I told her I needed time to think about it. I feel embarrassed just going back now."

"No excuses. Love is a war. If you don't tell her how you feel, then you might lose her."


Their situation was nothing like what happened between me and Visha. This should be fine.

"But she is writing an article right now."

"No buts either!"

"However, I am at—"

"Just go tell her already!"

"Yes, ma'am. I can't believe you actually talked to me. I can't wait until I tell everyone that I heard your voice and you support my love."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I mean, you know. Two women."


I rubbed my head against the end of my fan while it was closed. Either this was a person who didn't know my personal life and was a coworker discovering herself, or they were an ex with the worst case of internalized homophobia I have ever met.

"If you didn't know, I am a lesbian and in a committed relationship," I admitted, causing the other person to gasp in surprise. "Also, who are you? I meant to ask, but you kept cutting me off."

"How do you not know?"

"Because that isn't how contacting me works."

"Oh…Um, Tanya-sama, I am Mary Sue."




"Kami…Tanya…are you still there?"



"I have to avoid my supervisor to get out of work without being noticed."

"NO! You get back to your station. You make sure that prisoner stays in locked down."

"Uh, but you told me no excuses."

"Your work is more important than you getting lovey-dovey with your roommate."

"But I thought love was the greatest thing of all."


I wanted to scream.

But this was a work-related call-equivalent now.

"I wouldn't care if you got in trouble with your supervisor any other day, but that Rudolph Himmler is too dangerous," I explained with as even of a tone as I could muster. "You guard him with your life, Captain. Don't let anyone free him."

"Uh, yes, Kami-sama!"

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry, force of habit."



"Tanya-sama, are you still there?"

"Yes. Also, don't contact me when you should be working unless it is an emergency."

"But it was an emergency!"

"Bisexual panic is not an emergency."

"I don't know what that is!"


I really wanted to say, 'What else is new?' but kept my mental mouth shut. Talking with Mary Sue was always an HR visit just waiting to happen if I didn't keep my patience. I have no idea why she evaded almost all punishment for her many terrible 'accidents' and 'misinterpretations of the situation', and somehow someone else always suffered the consequences of Mary Sue's actions — namely me.

"I thought I knew things, but everything I thought was wrong," Mary Sue commented.

"I have been telling you that for years."

"Sorry, I didn't properly listen until now. Please let me repent."

"Just get back to work."


With that, I hung up. It was nice that she finally felt regret for what she did to me. Did she really think I was a god or her master? It was probably her misunderstanding of Akinese culture coupled with her life-long religious fever dream. She had better not call me a god to any of the other coworkers.

With that bothersome and excessively casual work call out of the way, I found myself that I was in a Russy aristocratic child's room with just nothing but memories and fresh injuries. It annoyed me that this bed wasn't meant for an adult.

Speaking of children, the door opened to a gaggle of kids who came in with hopeful expressions and a bunch of random things — toys, paper, art supplies, and knitting supplies.

Hopefully, I could have a more mature conversation with them than I ever could with Mary Sue. I would love to chew her out about what she did to me and Sonnetto, but I didn't want to get in trouble for getting in a fight with my coworkers.

I mentally set aside the fact that if these kids were here, they must have died. I put on my best-practiced smile. Sonnetto told me it wasn't scary. None of them ran away in terror. Progress!

"What do you want to play, Comrade Serbryakov?" one of the kids asked me. "Mr. Avgust said you might want something to do."

My eyes glanced at my options. Honestly, playing Russy kids' games would trigger me too much because of what happened at the POW camp, but an idea struck me. We definitely had enough supplies, and my encyclopedic memory would make this possible. I couldn't resist the desire to be subversive while in enemy territory. The game I had in mind would teach the kids about exchange value, the value of investing strategically, and the cutthroat way of the world.

"Have you ever played Monopoly?" I asked the little ones. They shook their heads. "Good. Hehehe. I need this, that, and a pair of scissors."

"She looks a bit scary," one of the kids whispered within earshot.

"Avgust said she got hit in the head. Do you think she has gone [he swirled his fingers around his head]?"

"We could get her some ice or medicine. Remember what happened in the Prostokvashino story with the cranky mailman who stopped being cranky when he had a bike to make his deliveries easier? Perhaps Serbryakov is the same, and if we give her what she needs, she will stop looking scary."

I checked my face in the mirror. Ops, my smile had gone wrong again.

Why was smiling so hard? What if Rex starts hating me because I can't be normal enough?

Ugh…my paranoia was eating at me.

"What are the rules, Serbryakov?" another kid asked me.

Teaching them really helped my mood. I hope the kids don't expect me to be easy on them just because they have never experienced the wonderfully (reasonably) ruthless world of capitalism.

I was going to be the best parent-like figure. When I am done here, these kids will put my photo up on the wall for Mom of the Month.

I couldn't help but out a bit of a laugh.

"Creepy…."

Darn it. It slipped again.





Icy Ravine in Mary Canary's Soul - September 1954

"Think about someone you hate," Mary 'the Tejas Twister' Canary instructed as she started to pull the enchanted spear out of Roxanne, who bit down on a rag. The homunculus couldn't speak if she wanted to as the spikey weapon went straight through Roxanne's artificial…soul lungs.

'My afterlife world makes no gosh darn sense,' Canary mentally grumbled. This bizarre situation with Roxanne (Sonnetto?) in her Afterlife was hardly the only weird thing happening in Canary's life. For example, Canary's body had mutated over the last couple of years, causing her to grow a pair of monarch butterfly wings and antennae.

As for the spear, it unfortunately wouldn't budge. Somehow, it was anchored into the stone underneath the nigh unkillable woman.

"What is taking so long, Mrs. Canary? Time is money, and I think I have an appointment soon. Chop Chop."

The Mandate of Beginnings gritted her teeth. That voice belonged to Richard Diamond. He wasn't actually there, she assured herself, but no matter what she did, his voice followed after her. While that man was a nightmare, he could not compare to the other spirits that haunted her.

"Grandma, my stomach hurts. Please, can I have more?"

"Cass, hush up. Grandma's trying her plum-done best. The soil just blew away, is all. That ain't ma's fault."

"It is ma's fault! She won't sell this useless land. What good is land that doesn't produce nothing!"


The matriarch grimaced. The world was so unfair. If you expect things for free, disappointment and suffering will find you. You have to be ready to pay the price that survival costs.

"Mrs. Canary…I am sorry, but my tests have determined that you are…"

She took a deep breath. The sooner Mary Canary figured out what in tarnation this woman was doing in her Afterlife, the sooner she could get the Curse of Change from letting the past haunt her like this. The problem was the spear wasn't budging. Even with Canary augmenting her strength with innate divinity spells, she had to do something a bit drastic. Roxanne seemed to intuit what the Tejas Twister was about to do and nodded.

It wasn't pretty. Let's leave it at that.

As Roxanne took time to regenerate, Canary suffered the silence that made the voices in her head even worse.

"Grandma, are you sick?"

"No, dear," Canary muttered. "Grandma isn't sick."

"I was worried. Danny Beton got that Ispagnia flu. I was worried you got it, too, since you spend so much time at Mr. Benton's house."

"Mages like me and your brother don't get sick, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Well, you looked awful sick, Grandma."

"It will pass before you know it, Ethel. Don't worry. Just don't tell your father or Amber just yet. I don't want them to know."

"Why Grandma? Is it about what you do when you are with Mr. Benton?"

"How did you—" Canary replied to the phantom of Ethel before cutting herself off.

She knew this wasn't real. The Curse was torturing her, yet the more she tried to move on, the more powerful the curse became.

"Mr. Benton is helping us right now, being very generous," the matriarch stated despite how hard she tried not to repeat her words from back then. "If you are a good girl and don't say anything, the Goddess will leave you a big gift under the Goddess Day tree."

"Who are you talking to?" Roxanne inquired, struggling to get up.

Canary blinked and then sighed in relief. Being alone made everything much worse. Silence was torture.

"No one," the old Goddess answered, regarding the law woman with suspicion. "You know, I was mighty surprised when I found myself forced into my Afterlife. Normally, I can control whether I am in it or not. You wouldn't know why that is?"

Mary Canary summoned her two divine butcher blades, conspicuously inspecting their lethality.

Roxanne struggled just to stand. "You can hear me?"

"Why wouldn't I be able to? Regardless, you best be answering my questions. I don't have a lot of patience for those who come to my Afterlife, causing me trouble. As the Goddess of Beginnings, I can send you and anyone in my domain into the reincarnation cycle that I strike with my meat cleavers. I could turn you into a possum in your next life, so don't test me."

"We traveled to your soul to rescue you."

"I know I may be old, but my memory is still as sharp as a knife," the Tejan replied flatly. "I don't recall asking you to rescue me or that I was in any danger. Nor do I remember inviting you into my Afterlife — what you are calling my soul."

"That is because we desperately need to get you out of the control of the Commonwealth before there is a world war."

"What do you mean 'before there is a world war'? I don't know if you know this, but the Global North Alliance is out there doing their Global War of Extinction against any resistance to their hegemonic control. Joseon goes and elects one of them socialist governments, and the GNA just has to invade and slay all of them. On top of Joseon, the GNA has ongoing operations in Magna Rumeli, Abya Yala, Viet Bam, Argentum, Nusantara, and many places I don't even know the names of or pronounce. If that ain't a world war, I don't know what is."

"The Civil War in Germania could end with first arcanium bombs being dropped on cities," Roxanne countered hotly. "The loss of life would be immeasurable."

"And the dropping of bombs on all of these other countries is somehow not as serious? I don't know much about arcanium bombs. I will judge that when I actually see them in use." Mary Canary sighed. "As I see it, Europa needs to fight its own battles on its own and leave the rest of the world out of it. Roxy—"

"Sonnetto. My name is Sonnetto."

Mary Canary blinked. She knew a lot about Roxanne from Alex's memories. It took quite a bit of effort to ignore all the intimate knowledge she had. By the looks of it, Sonnetto did not take kindly to people addressing her by the name of her dead self and definitely did not want to go back to being Roxanne. Not a lot of people would understand that kind of thing. It must be hard for Sonnetto, but it wasn't any of Canary's business.

"I am no more Roxanne than you are, Alex," the Interpol officer explained tersely. "You and I agree that there is a global conflict going on, but we also know that the European powers will press all their subordinated governments to join them in a fight with the Russy Federation. It will be several magnitudes worse than what is currently going on."

"And they will probably lose too. They have been poking the bear [Russy] and now are just reaping what they sow. I have no patience for people who go looking for trouble when they were warned and then cry for help when trouble comes a-knocking. The Russy Federation has a lot of soft power around the war by being relatively generous, which is the whole reason why the Global North Alliance has to play whack-a-democracy so much."

"If you are so critical of the GNA, why do you work for them?!"

"Because I don't got any choices," the matriarch of the Canary family confessed. "The world knows I got powers. They will hunt down my family and me no matter where we go, and either I work for them, or they will kill me to deprive me of the enemy of a chance to use me. As I see it, you are no different than any of the other world players in this game of geopolitics that is only messing with the life of my family because I have power."

"I—," the crimson-eyed officer attempted to respond, but suddenly her legs fell out underneath her.

"Well, that explains what happened to the Divinity of Power," Mary Canary pointed out as she walked next to the enfeebled homunculus. "You not only trespassed into my Afterlife somehow but also went taking things that don't belong to you."

"Don't go pretending like Alex is a thing you can own. I thought your family hated slavery."

"We do, but don't go twisting things. We both know Alex was no saint. His divinity makes monsters out of people by revealing to them their darkest instincts and desires by eliminating any sense of limitation, as I am sure you are aware of now. That divinity also makes it hard to give it up because of how it messes with your head. Anywho, when I took his soul here, he no longer had his family to act as his moral grounding and went mad with power. That was why I made sure his prison allowed his followers to leave his tyranny but not him."

Sonnetto's face went through countless subtle transformations. By the look of it, a lot of Roxanne's lively expressions had died with her, and the homunculus muted ones gave her a stoic and alien countenance. Whatever happened that caused her to get impaled by an enchanted weapon and nailed to the ground must have been going through the Interpol officer's head.

Still, the old Matriarch could sense Sonnetto's panicked self-reflection and guilt-tripping. It wasn't the first time she had to deal with someone going through something like that. Whatever Sonnetto did must have really shaken her, even if it didn't reflect much on her facial expression. Canary's divinity allowed her to sense the sudden shifts in people's emotions or when new emotions begin. It was an ability that had come in handy when raising children and when her little sister Amber came back a guilt-ridden, suicidal mess after her soldiering in Minnesota after the Civil War.

Before the voices from the past came back to haunt Canary, the centennial Tejan interrupted Sonnetto. She had to resist the urge to care for the person who looked like Roxanne. Honestly, Mary Canary dreaded meeting any of Alex's loved ones because she knew she would feel compelled to treat them as family. The tough act was just that — an act, and if she let herself care for Sonnetto, her ability to negotiate her future would fall apart.

Remember, Sonnetto just wants you for your power. She doesn't actually care about you.

Putting her left blade to Sonnetto's throat caused the enfeebled woman to get startled.

"Pay attention to me. Again, I can send you to the next life at any time. Your regeneration powers mean nothing to me here. So I will ask this once, and you will only have five words to explain it to me: Why should I do anything you or Interpol want me to do?"

The woman on the ground was still distressed, but the blade had at least gotten her to focus.

"Better give me a good answer," Mary Canary added, flapping her wings and letting her powers create little dust devils filled with snow and rocks. "I don't want to keep my current employer waiting if they need me for some reason. The imperial states of the world may be monsters, but the Albish treat me a hell of a lot better than Diamond ever did."

Sonnetto attempted to move away, but the Curse kept her in place. Deep down, Mary hated herself for this. She had become a mirror for the cruelty in the world and that the world demanded of her to survive. Part of her was sure she was bluffing, but Sonnetto could not know that.

"Times up—"

"They are going to execute Calamity!"

It was six words, but still, that stopped Mary.

"Who has Calamity?" she asked, unable to hide her worry.

No one told her this. Why would they? They knew that despite her complaints regarding her behavior, Amber still mattered a whole lot to her.

"The Francois and the Global North Alliance," Sonnetto explained.

The Tejas Twister lifted her blades away from the prone woman.

"You certain they will execute her?" Mary followed up.

"Tanya says that the trial will be dismissed for being fraudulent, but she is having nightmares. We are both worried that our sister — we are chosen family with Calamity Amb. We have been living together for a few years."

Mary dismissed one of her blades and rubbed her forehead. It was Ramona all over again. She told Calamity that people you bring into the family don't just bring their mouths but also their problems.

"You and your coworker, White Silver — y'all aren't the reason why my sister is in all this trouble?"

Sonnetto stared up at Mary and then at the remaining life-restarting cleaver. "Uh, no. It was because she was a Heartist."

"Explain."

"Your, our sister, she and Tanya killed a member of the Hoarding Horde without proper authorization. The GNA let Tanya go but took Calamity and put her through a kangaroo court. Even the censors couldn't stop the Parisian press from calling it this generation's Dreyfus Affair. Tanya is terrified that we will have to break her out of prison to save her, which will cause a lot of chaos. We need the GNA to back down before the war escalates or anyone we care about dies."

The old goddess smashed the ground to her side with her cleaver, sending rock and ice up in a tiny tornado.

"Dagnabbit!" she shouted. "For all GNA's talk of the evils of racism after their self-glorifying condemnations of the Silver Legion, they are still going after us Heartists. We were victims of the Legion, too."

Sonnetto flinched but only slightly.

"Yeah, we know," the Interpol officer stated. "Our reports were comprehensive, but it was clear to me, at least, that the GNA countries condoned some of the killings. The communists, the so-called 'International Heartists', gay and trans people, and so on were all still fair game in Europa. The people they are still persecuting locally with abandoned were discreetly left out of their speeches on the evils of Silver Legionism, and by simply excluding discrimination of skin color and using a different name, they kept the politics of Legionism going in Europa."

In other words, European fascists and their liberal allies reduced legionism down to its specific targets and slogans, not its naked profiteering and constant directing of reactionaries toward defenseless enemies. All one had to do to prove one wasn't a Legionist was to not sound like a Legionist. That was liberal civility politics for you that only cared about politeness and following superficial norms designed to keep complicit and subordinate to the State.

Mary Canary walked up to Sonnetto who went stock still.

"Okay, you have convinced me to listen to you," the Tejan stated, offering an arm.

Sonnetto looked at the hand and then up at Mary.

"We are family now," the goddess of beginnings explained with an embarrassed expression. "I can't be offing you, now can I. Just don't be making it weird because I know what Alex knows."

Sonnetto grabbed Mary's hand, and the Tejan lifted her up.

"You are the one making it weird, Mary," the homunculus replied before stumbling a bit.

"Oh, be careful," the Tejan said, catching the Interpol officer. "You ain't in any shape to be flying or running around right now while your Power mana is burnt out like this. What did you do to burn it all out?"

"I tried to expel Alex out of me and into the next life, but for complicated reasons, I ended up just sending him into the world of the living."

"Uh…okay. That is complicated. You also said you came with your partner on the force. Where is she?"

"She is at Frozen Heart Manor getting medical treatment from Avgust."

Mary blinked in confusion. "Uh-Huh…"

"Would you bring me there?" Sonnetto demanded urgently. "You were completely right about the Power Mandate showing the worst side of yourself to you, and I hurt Tanya — a lot. I know she doesn't blame me, but I need to be there and make it up to her."

Mary sighed. There was a very familiar pathos of family hurting family. While Tanya and Sonnetto might have been coworkers, Mary knew that down in the mines where her family had toiled away for Diamond, there had been other miners that had become as close as family was to them. In a way, that made perfect sense, too. Sharing in work was what made farming families so close-knit, and when one worked far away from family, one's coworkers became one's new family.

"While it will take a while to get there, I do have a way so you don't have to walk or get motion sick from me carrying you," Mary Canary admitted. "You can trust me — you do not want to be flying while cursed like that."

"If you say so," the other woman replied.

It was confirmation enough for Mary, who whistled with her free hand. A magical ox and cart apparated out of nowhere.

"This here is Tony and my family's cart," the Tejan explained with pride coloring her voice. "Well, recreation thereof. You will be shotgun. Got it."

"I make as much sense as anything else in Soul Space."

"Soul whatsawhosit? This be my Afterlife domain, darling."

"As Calamity Amb would say, Puh-tate-oh, Puh-tat-oh."

"So Amber has gotten a start in teaching you our ways. I will have to do my part. I am the older sister, after all."

"You were trying to kill me a couple minutes ago."

"That was because I didn't know you were family, and I wasn't really going to do it."

"And I didn't know you were!" Sonnetto countered.

"Potato, Potato."

"That is not what that means!"

"I was just testing you. You passed."

"Why are you like this?!"

"You live a life like mine, and you will understand," Mary confessed, earning her a sudden look of sympathy from her interlocutor. "Now, let's get you to your partner, partner."

Mary quickly lifted Sonnetto onto the passenger seat and then hopped into the driver's side, conjuring the reigns as she did.

"You ever be on a carriage before?" the matriarch inquired.

"No…"

"Okay, first, that there is the dashboard by our feet. It protects us from the dirt and stuff that Tony might accidentally kick up."

"Okay."

"Second, where is your shotgun?"

"Shotgun?"

"For shooting outlaws and bandits. You have ridden shotgun before, haven't you?"

"Uh…normally I am driving," Sonnetto admitted, but it was clear from her tone that she was confused. Thankfully, the homunculus had her shotgun conjured from her tattoos, so she was at least minimally prepared.

"Well, I trust you are a good enough shot. Remember, we don't want to be killing any folks — again — that we don't have to, but having that gun will be what we Tejans call a 'deterrent' to any varmints or reprobates that might try to attack us."

"There are criminals out here?" the Interpol officer inquired.

"Well, technically, no. My Afterlife doesn't have anything like a state in charge of anything — at least the parts not under Avgust's control. So there aren't any outlaws, but there are former outlaws. My Afterlife is a place where those who want a new start in life go to if they know me, and I let them in, which I do from time to time. The kinds of folks who want that second chance are not all good folks. I am sure you have had similar problems."

"I can't say I have. I wasn't a goddess — well, I didn't have a Mandate until a couple of years ago. Tanya and I don't really know much about them aside from what we learned from an ancient scroll. We didn't even know how people can live on in our Soul Space."

"Well, that sounds like quite a story. I don't know much other than what I found out, but I would love to hear how my sister's sister got to be a goddess."

"Uh…sure," Sonnetto replied, a bit thrown off by Mary's complete 180 in personality. The tough act was just too difficult to maintain. "I hope Tanya doesn't mind that it will take a while to get to her."

"I am sure she will be fine with Avgust," Mary claimed while easing her ox into motion. "He might be stiff and give you the cold shoulder, but the people around him smile like sunflowers in Summer. She is probably having fun."





Frozen Heart Manor in Avgust Zimir's section of Mary Canary's Soul - September 1954

I was not having fun.

"I am bankrupt!" I declared, giving the last of my mortgaged properties over to Petyor.

How could I roll so badly?!

"It is funny," Avgust said from the doorway, watching the kids play Monopoly with me. "You would think a Serbryakov would have better luck. Unless you aren't a real Serbryakov."

He caught me off guard, and I lifted my paper fan defensively.

"It's a joke. No one here actually believes you inherit luck."

I didn't, too, but then again, Visha was statistically way above average in her gambling prowess. Did Being X actually give people the equivalent of an LCK stat? Mine must be near zero if that was the case.

Does he know the real Serbryakov family? It was possible. Visha was an aristocrat, and Avgust appears to have been one at one point.

The other kids played for a few more rounds as Petyor knocked one player after another with his growing empire of capital.

"This is a blast!" the kid cheered. "Look, Avgust, I am winning."

"Are you?" the man inquired with surprising warmth. The kid looked confused. "Look at your competitors."

What was wrong with the other players? They were losing badly, but that was how the game sometimes went. It snowballs.

"Do you want to play another game?" the boy asked the others.

"Wait, what?" I interjected. "Why are you ending the game now? You haven't won yet."

"But why play if no one else is having fun."

"Well, don't you want to win? In a few more rounds, you can bankrupt all your competition, but up all their stuff at bargain prices, and jack up all your prices more with more monopolies and hotels. Once you do that, no one can beat you. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Not if it makes my friends unhappy."

"They rolled badly," I countered. "That isn't your fault."

"But they aren't happy."

"You made better decisions than they did. You deserve to win."

"Mrs. Serbryakov, I don't want my friends to be unhappy."

"That is how the game works."

"Then, it is a bad game."

I blinked.

"If the game is bad, we can just play a different game."

I looked at the other kids. They all nodded.

"Yeah, if we all agree, then we will do something else."

"We could change the rules," I offered. "Make the game more competitive and last longer."

"Will people still lose?"

"Of course," I answer.

"Why play then?"

"BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO ACHIEVE VICTORY! THAT IS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS! EVEN IF YOU ARE A CHILD!"

I quickly covered my mouth. For some reason, my eyes started to tear up, so I shut them quickly. Now I did it. The kids were probably all upset with me due to my irrational emotional outburst. Avgust was going to throw me out or worse. I failed. I didn't deserve to be around children. I was far too broken. I knew it.

Then, I felt a bunch of little hugs.

"Mrs. Serbryakov, don't cry."

"Don't cry. You don't have to win anymore."

"We can all win instead."

"Yeah, we will change the rules."

I blinked my eyes open.

What was happening? Children were supposed to run away….

After a few moments, Avgust ushered the kids out to go get dinner and then addressed me.

"Those kids are very good," he stated with pride in his voice.

I was still reeling from what just happened, so I dumbly nodded.

"A lot of the adults here struggle like we do," he added. "People like us are normal to them."

My head nodded again, but my mind reflected on this. My father, in my first life, bounced between being unrelentingly strict and being apologetically nice. I had to learn how to guess when he would have an episode and how to behave so as not to trigger him. I was definitely not hugging or comforting him like these kids did. What was different here aside from the kids being dead…technically?

The older man seemed to read my mind.

"We spend a lot of time teaching everyone, including children, how to help each other. Often, people suffer because they don't have what they need. Making sure people have what they need not only eases their suffering but makes them heal slowly."

"Okay…"

"A lot of stories and games are allegorical like your one. It is important to remember what it was like before the revolution. A lot of children died when people lost their jobs, or their businesses went bankrupt. The many revolutionaries fought to have ration cards because it meant that their children would never go to bed crying in hunger again — never have to find that their children would never wake up again. For all the errors the revolutionaries made in the beginning, once they got their food production under control, no one went hungry again."

There was no understating of how awful the Old Federation's agriculture policy went. Shortages were a chronic problem back then before the reforms and now that the Federation was essentially in a war economy again. Zhangzi was following in the Old Federations footsteps after ousting its agricultural experts for Tao loyalists from the Long March.

"Those were some big errors," I couldn't help but let slip.

"Yes…they were," Avgust replied, and he turned to leave. At the threshold, he grabbed his arms in a shiver as a cold chill blew into the room. "Viktoriya, remember just…you don't have to force yourself to be an adult anymore. I won't ask anything from you, so don't feel indebted or try to earn my kindness. You can even stay here as long as you want because we have plenty to share. Play children's games as much as you want. Read some of the books, too. Whatever helps you heal for what you didn't get to have in life."

I could hear him rubbing his arms while muttering to himself.

Left in the room with naught but the chill, I hoped Sonnetto and Mary Canary would get here soon. I don't know how much longer I can stand being in this fancy Russy children's room, but I didn't want to say anything suspicious.
 
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Short Summary of the New Russy Federation New
Short Summary of the New Russy Federation:
The overthrow of the Old Federation had included several different tendencies in the Marksist movement known as the United Front. While Brotskyists formed the governing majority, they were stuck with a fractious political climate where there were frequent accusations between the various factions of being revisionists, opportunists, class collaborationists, etc.… Infighting among Marksists was common, but they held the Russy Federation together through three positions: scientific socialism, opposition to capitalism, and bureaucratic decentralization. Scientific Socialism meant that each strand of praxis could prove their model's efficacy instead of trying to force something to work. Opposition to capitalism allowed them to agree that as much as they disagreed with each other, their fighting benefitted the rich capitalists — their common enemy. Bureaucratic decentralization allowed greater autonomy of the regional zones to implement policies that worked for them rather than imposing a cookie-cutter solution that didn't translate across different material circumstances.

Brotskyists tended towards a much more aggressive model of globally overthrowing capitalist rule through a doctrine of Permanent Revolution.

The Russy Federation's Geopolitical Positions (not exhaustive):
  • Joseon: Significantly supported the People's Republic of Joseon (PRJ) and backed Chim Il-sung, who was both popular for his resistance efforts against the Akinese and loyal to the Russy Federation. The significant military build-up in the East was because they had intelligence that the Global North Alliance had stationed their superweapon Trident (Mary Canary) near the Akitsuhima Dominion.
  • Germania: This country is essential to the Russy Federation's ambitions for World Communism and national security. Not only do Russys have revanchist sentiments over the Great War invasion, but the rise of Rudolph Himmler's openly exterminationist ideology has pushed General Secretary Ivan Smirnov to invade the northern half of Germania, including Polandia. This action has led to the West decrying the Russy Federation as imperialists and hypocrites, causing the Russy Federation to burn through much of its reputation capital. The Russy Federation seeks not only to control the Rhineland industry before it can be turned into a war machine but wants to cow the Global North Alliance into a position where they know they can't win if they continue their belligerence. The Russy Federation has backed the Germanian United Front led by Hilary Brecht.
  • Jugoslavja and Magna Rumeli: Both regions are in a Civil War, and while the Old Federationist has pushed to abandon those positions to de-escalate tensions with the Capitalists, the Comintern and the Russy Federation continue to send aid to the communist parties there. (1) Capitalists in Germania have backed the Legalist SS against the Russy-backed Orthodox forces, who are credibly accused of ethnic displacement and massacring Legalists. The GNA has recently come around to bombing Jugoslavja as a way to convert the country to their control.
  • Viet Bam and Eastern Persia: The Russy Federation has provided arms and supplies but has had to reduce aid to focus resources on Germania and Joseon, which General Secretary Ivan Smirnov considers a more serious situation. The Vietbamese use Tanechka's praxis of a People's War that the West characterized as terrorism. Eastern Persia has a Russy Federation loyal government that has been suppressing Western-backed theocratic extremists. The Global North alliance has propped a brutal military dictatorship in Western Persia after Emperor Cassander passed away. Simultaneously, the GNA has loudly condemned Eastern Persia as a puppet government that requires an international military intervention.
  • Ukrane: Leon Brotsky championed the cause of an an independent Ukrane during the putsch that overthrew the Old Federation. When he came into power, he extended an extensive right of national self-determination and reparations due to the Old Federation's crimes against humanity there. (2)
  • Zhangzi: Chairman Tao Tse-tung of the People's Republic of Zhangzi accused Leon Brotsky and his administration of doing historical revisionism in order to solidify power by denouncing and purging the Old Federationist on trumped-up crimes. There is a mounting Zhangzi-Russy split due to ideological differences like this. Still, those are somewhat tempered by the Russy's commitment to facilitating as much famine relief to Post-War Zhangzi as they can manage, given their numbers of ongoing operations.
  • Ispagnia: the Russy Federation conducted a successful clandestine regime change from the Western-backed fascist government by backing a Brotskyist vanguardist revolution. The Unified States decried the Russy's "illegal meddling with foreign governments, violating the sovereignty of Ispagnia". The crimes against humanity of the Brotskyists, especially against the Universalist church, have pushed more Universalists towards the anti-communist camp across Southern Europa.
  • Argentum: The Federation supported the Ejército Revolucionario del Pueblo (ERP), which followed the working-class Insurgency Process to counter the Western-backed fascist government. This Insurgency Process includes using tactics like using explosives to kill their political enemies in public venues like restaurants. Due to MI54's actions, the fascist government's paramilitary Argentum Anticommunist Alliance (AAA) has been significantly weakened, and political dissent has been allowed to flourish more freely.
  • Abya Yala: the Russy Federation pressured Tanechka to back the World Federationalists, who were more friendly to Brotskyists. After the fall of the Silver, the West propagandized the United Front's murdering of Silver Legionists taken prisoner. This, in part, led to Amber Calamity's arrest. Currently, the Russy Federation has called on the Abya Yala to find ways to bypass the Albish port blockades and take up more of the slack of providing their agricultural bounty to the world communist movement. The Aztec Triple Alliance has taken advantage of the opportunity to charge expensive tariffs on Abya Yala goods and demand greater reparations in the form of return of historical territory and resources. Abya Yala has no desire to antagonize Hattada, who was their ally during the revolution, or the Aztec Triple Alliance, who were victims of the Silver Legion's conquest and extinctionist campaigns.


Citations:
  1. This represents a major split from real history in a rapidly escalating conflict between capitalists and the communist movement.
  2. Trotsky, Leon. "Independence of the Ukraine and Sectarian Muddleheads." Socialist Appeal. Vol. III No. No. 70, 15 September 1939, p. 2 & Vol. III No. 71, 18 September 1939, p. 2. <https://www.marxists.org/archive/trotsky/1939/07/ukraine.htm>
 
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Bombs Away, Part 5 New
Bombs Away arc so far:
  • Part 1: Karl von Ropen plots with other members of the Global North Alliance on a bombing of Jugoslavja and retaking North Germania from the Russy Federation and Germanian United Front. Ramona Mercer bombs the US Embassy, and Ropen barely activates his shield just in time.
  • Part 2: While the League of Nations rages at the Global North Alliance's propaganda campaign to justify bombing Jugoslavja, the news of the bombing breaks.
  • Part 3: A few weeks before the bombing in München, Anansi the Spider God is the shadow leader of Eight Eyes, an intelligence agency behind countless bombings, false flag operations, and regime chants. After having her kill a mole in his organization, he recruits the cannibal business woman Dolores Arsen to be his Fifth Eye and deliver bombs to Essen.
  • Part 4: Fang Shiyu's team misidentifies Dolores Arsen as Tanechka's mole in Global North Alliance going by the codename "The Fifth Eye". Simultaneously, Dolores Arsen is under the misunderstanding that Fang Shiyu and the others are spies on the GNA's payroll.




The Train from Hamburg to Essen - September 1954
Three days before the US Embassy in München gets bombed


Dolores "The Fifth Eye" Arsen picked at her teeth while the intelligence officers continued to eat their meals because they lacked initiative. From what she gathered, they were undercover as Interpol officers. It was useful, given that Interpol could operate in both North and South Germania.

"So, how did you like Hamburg?" Agent Ho inquired, putting down his slice of flammkuchen.

The businesswoman grinned. "Delicious."

"Yeah…my favorite restaurant was still open, but I thought you would appreciate the hospitals and architecture. Hamburg is one of the most modern and beautiful cities in the world."

Arsen tolerated Agent Ho. The man knew stuff but assumed everyone cared about the same things he did.

"Was there anything other than the food that you liked?" he asked with force neutrality in his tone.

"The paintings. That one about the apothecary caught my attention. What do you know about it?"

"Oh, yes, that was depicting medicinal cannibalism," Agent Ho began, switching into narration mode. "In Europa, the aristocrats would pay handsomely for mummies and various human body parts to be used in what was essentially fads for curing diseases, granting good health, and extending one's life. (1) In Germania, people would pay executioners for a pint of blood."

"Do they still do that?" she wondered aloud with excitement entering her voice.

"Of course not," he quickly replied. "We live in a time of science. Dark pacts and mummy cures are utter nonsense. The Albish phased out the practice for the most part in the 18th century."

It was disappointing to hear that. Thankfully, the mortician in Hamburg was relatively cooperative when she saw the number of zeros on her offer price, but she hoped Ho was wrong and that the executioners could be paid off. Freshness was key to preserving flavor. Dolores Arsen had many flaws, but she did like to think she was a gourmet.

"I don't know," Arsen replied. "I think there is more to those stories of creatures from the great beyond, and we shouldn't be so quick to dismiss them. Something wanted people to start feasting. I am sure of it."

Arsen gave a dark chuckle that unsettled everyone in the private cart.

"You want to hear a secret?" the endlessly hungry member of Eight Eyes inquired of the Agents, who looked worriedly at each other.

"Sure," Alani Stewart stated for the group.

"Legends speak of a city lost deep under the waves called Atlantis, where the Fountain of Eternal Youth lies. Rockefella was so set upon finding it to prevent his death from old age that he abandoned his businesses to his children while he rode the high seas. During one voyage, a creature came to him in his sleep, sensing his powerful mana and strong desire not to pass on."

Arsren put her hand on Agent Stewart's face and leaned in to pretend to whisper.

"And the creature spoke to the man in a language alien yet horrifically familiar, 'Give yourself to me, my love and everything you desire will be yours.'"

The orange-haired mage looked deep into Arsen's eyes — fully entranced and full of fear.

"The man — far from his empire and riches — completely held in the clutches of everything he desires said—"

"Yes," Stewart finished for the businesswoman.

"Yes. Exactly that." Arsen pulled her hand back, ending whatever eldritch magic had expressed itself in a charm.

The agent blinked as her senses seemed to return to her.

"What happened next?" Agent Fang questioned while giving his subordinate a concerned look.

"The next day, the door to his chambers opened, but what walked out was no longer a man but a creature more octopus than human. It had a cranium of copper, and its eight massive tentacles slithered ethereally to grab onto everything and anyone. Anything trapped in its clutches became possessed — puppets he could bend to its bidding."

AD_4nXdNOXjDqD6swwtsdKrZJhf5-O1Mab7e_gWKAgm6aqJuuw_ega2no5RAYEyCED-AFgC4qkQuUzM7FlqZLezbnADLyAx2Dx_OODLE5xOTbzx5esx3f_dLE36ICU3MVGiLg5pfjXS0TA

Artist Depiction of Rockafella by Udo J Keppler

"How do you know this?" Jing-wei questioned with suspicion.

"Let's just say someone who was there passed the story to me."

Knowing the spider god has its perks.

"Did Rockafella find the lost city?" Stewart followed up with fear.

"He knows where it is, but he can't get inside without capturing the goddess of the sea. Unfortunately, how does one catch Neptune when, like water, she always slips out of your grip?"

Fang blinked. "You don't mean—"

"This is a bunch of nonsense," Agent Ho announced. "There is no such thing as eldritch horrors."

"I don't know," Jing-wei countered. "I saw in the news that scientists now believe in a multiverse. Maybe there is a universe where such creatures exist, and they have pieced the viel. How can you be certain of anything with uncertainty being a principle of the universe."

"That isn't what the physicists and arcanists mean," he grumbled as the imp-like Zhangzi woman floated out of her wheelchair to pour herself another cup of hot cocoa, which was heated in a thermos with one of her magical devices.

"You all can disbelieve me at your own peril," Dolores Arsen commented blithely.

"Wow, spooky," Jing-wei joked, earning a chuckle from Agent Ho.

"Am I funny to you?" Arsen asked flatly, all humor leaving her face suddenly. "Am I a clown to you?"

"Uhhh…"

"Come on. Do I amuse you?"

"Yes…no?"

"Do you know what I have done to people?" the cannibal pressed.

"I meant no offense."

"You better not try me again. You can be replaced. Anyone can be replaced. Capice?"

"Capice…?" Jing-wei asked confused.

"The Fifth Eye means 'do you understand?'" Agent Stewart clarified, coming to Arsen's defense readily. Charms are so useful.

"Then why did she use a word we wouldn't understand."

"It is not my fault you don't know what words mean," Arsen stated in frustration.

"Everything about you is so sketchy," Jing-wei critiqued. The investigator then addressed her teammates in some language the businesswoman didn't know. Jing-wei said something about 'zhíjué'."

Arsen took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She imagined having a delicious Beruner, and she didn't mean the jelly donut. It helped keep her temper in check. She was getting hangry more often these days, even after eating so much regular food. It just wasn't the same as a fresh mage. The former Fifth Eye really spoiled the eldricht horror, and Arsen could feel its influence more acutely now in its ever-greater demands.

"Sorry, this mission has gotten me rather on edge," the businesswoman lied, fetching something from her pack. "Perhaps this will help put your worries at ease."

She tossed the folder of documents Anansi had her get from Llyod Bank. Jing-wei and Fred Ho opened it and poured over its contents while Arsen watched them run in mental circles, trying to figure out what this tangled web of information meant.

"There are Eight Eye and Global North Alliance top secret documents in here, guy," the imp declared to the others, getting their attention. They started diving up things.

"Does anyone know who James Sams or Unit 731 are?" Agent Fang asked.

Jing-wei hissed and whispered something to him in that foreign language, causing the martial artist to go pale.

"I have a document about Richard Diamond going to the Dominion in 1951 with research samples from his Kansas and Dzayerian Biolabs," Agent Ho stated in full analytical mode. "Something about the Butterfly of Kansas and the one that could kill fifty million. Any ideas what this could mean?"

"It seems to code words," Jing-wei pointed out as she flipped through a few more documents. "It could mean some kind of new super weapon. I know Mary Canary was called 'butterfly', but she is from Tejas. Was there some kind of weapon testing in Kansas that could have killed fifty million? I think we would have heard about something that big."

"Unless the information was suppressed."

"True, but without more information, we can't know if there is a link or a coincidence,"

"This record indicates James Sams is currently stationed on a research naval vessel off the shore of Joseon," Alani Stewart offered. "There is even a request for additional funding for a humanitarian mission to northern Joseon."

"Why would the Commonwealth and Americans do a humanitarian mission now all of a sudden? I don't buy it."

"They could be proving their sincerity to de-escalate the conflict."

"You don't bomb people and shoot civilians on sight and then turn around and give people blanks, food, and medicine in the heart of enemy territory."

"I know this isn't related, but there are documents about both Rockafella and Karl von Ropen negotiating with Francois' Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure [DGSE] to target some unnamed person in Germania.."

"Why would a proud Germanian like Ropen ask Francois to do a hit job when he has plenty of professional military personnel in München? Again, it doesn't make sense."

"Perhaps he doesn't trust his own military? I don't know. I am not familiar enough with Germanian politics."

"I found a receipt for a shipment of some Hamburgers. Wait, isn't this the address for the mortician we visited a few days ago? Is this how DGSE will get rid of the bodies?"

Arsen blinked. "Give me that!" she demanded, snatching that out of Agent Ho's hands. "It is related to something else and doesn't belong with that file."

The four intelligence officers quickly forgot about her mistake because they were all too focused on the revelations in the other documents.

The Fifth hadn't really looked through the documents yet, but Anansi told her to hand them over to them if they ever got suspicious of her really being in Eight Eyes. This intel would prove crucial for these spies' 'investigation' into the crimes of Old Money, who Arsen wanted to oust from power.

Stand aside, Rudolph Himmler. Women are here to prove that we can do everything that you would have done but better.

She had already scouted a few blondes to take up leadership positions in the Francois Republic, Ildoa, and Germania. Silver Legionism 2.0, now with a feminine face. It has all the reactionary politics Europeans loved, but nothing like fascism because women were in charge. She could see the wonderful matriarchy take over the globe already. The old men won't know what hit them.

"Hey, Mrs. Fifth," Jing-wei called out, waking Arsen from her fantasy. "What is this message about the itinerary on Francois President Billards' yacht? Do you think there is a hit out on him?"

Arsen simply shrugged. She knew the truth, but it was better not to leak anything related to her own plans. She hoped Billards liked the Albish cannel, for he was about to get very familiar with it.

"It could be the Dzayerians getting revenge for the Arcanium bomb testing," Agent Fang commented, keeping his eyes on Arsen.

"Or anything that happened during the revolution," Agent Ho added. "Guerrilla tactics and the People's War are common among independence movements. You could delegitimize practically every revolution in world history by saying they are breaking laws meant for professional soldiers. If your country gets occupied by a foreign army and you are a civilian who retaliates, does that mean all civilians become fair game?"

"It definitely makes litigating war crimes between irregulars and professional soldiers far harder," Jing-wei grumbled from her wheelchair as she skimmed a stack of documents. "As much as I hate to admit it, posing as civilians is a war crime for a reason because it lets imperialists justify shooting upon civilians."

"But the No Gun Ri massacre is a clear case because those were clearly refugees," Agent Ho argued. "The GNA had ordered their airforce and Calvary units to indiscriminately shoot any Joseon wearing white due to fear of anti-imperialists who had come from the north hiding among civilians; (1) however, the fact that the GNA is stonewalling and denying this happened points towards guilt. By the time the Joseon-GNA war finally ends, it will be too late."

"If they don't stonewall for decades," Alani Stewart added morosely. "Got to keep that good guy facade up. While the Federation and their proxies are not guiltless, the GNA is far from the liberators they pretend to be."

"There is something here related to Viet Bam called Project Phoenix," Jing-wei said, practically lighting up in mana and concern. "This document shows the Commonwealth and Americans are training civilian assassins to infiltrate independence movements and kill the leadership of various cadres. They were so fed up with Tanechka and Tao's People's War tactics and Brotsky's Insurgency Process that they decided to wield the same tactics against their enemies."

"But on a much larger budget," the orange-haired baseball fan Stewart commented mirthlessly. "This will disrupt everything they plan to do. Are the Francois involved?"

"Just Unified States and New Holland. Nope, correction, the Francois are providing 'enhanced interrogation' training, utilizing the knowledge that they had acquired during the suppression of the Dzayerian Revolution."

"Agent Ho, what do you think Project Phoenix's effectiveness will be?" the group's leader asked, trying to keep his cool.

"This will be devastating," he replied morosely. "Revolutions like this depend on recruiting people, developing cadres, and training people in Marksist-Levinism, which stresses centralized leadership of experts during the revolution. Take out those who know their philosophy and how to train people in combat, and a revolution will fall apart. Even if the people of Viet Bam ultimately win, their leaders will become paranoid, and it will sow great distrust for decades."

Wasn't it wonderful? Dolores Arsen thought. If we win, then Viet Bam will become open to wealth generation and extraction. If we lose, they will become a propaganda piece of how evil communism is due to the blatant militarism and frequent purges. I can't wait to expand this program globally.

As for the whole philosophy thing, it would probably sound odd to most Americans, but once you got into the Eight Eyes, you knew that discipline was the most dangerous. People fought and died for philosophy throughout the ages. For example, Thomas Payne's Common Sense was the most popular work during the American Revolution. It arguably won the war for the merchants and landed gentry by convincing the peasantry and workers to keep fighting. Edward Pellamy's Looking Backward was the 2nd most popular book in America by the end of the 19th century, right after Uncle Pom's Cabin. Looking Backward was such an impactful socialist work in the Unified States that it became the basis for many parts of FDH's New Deal.

Obviously, a dangerous book like Looking Backward wasn't taught in schools. Couldn't have another major reform like the New Deal happening. Uncle Pom's Cabin was fine. It did not challenge capitalism, just slavery. By treating slavery as a problem of a past separate from the exploitation of labor, it cognitively obfuscated the incentive structure that made slavery occur in the first place. In fact, the Eight Eyes had a whole content farm called the Congress for Culture Freedom (CCF) whose whole purpose was to socially engineer society into something more friendly to businesses in the Global North Alliance. (2)

Fang and his team knew what they needed to know about such things just like as they didn't need to know how Arsen made her first million. It was her first job for Eight Eyes. All she needed to do was send a small bottle of liquor to a high-ranking official in an Asian country that went boom when he opened it. Pop went the bottle, dead was the official, and lush was Arsen's bank account.

Given the Agent's demographics, they might not appreciate the story of her exploits.

"Thanks for sharing all of this with us, Fifth," Alani Stewart said with an apologetic expression. "Sorry, we doubted you."

The charm kept Stewart sympathetic to Arsen until the mana from the spell was expelled from the mind, Arsen attacked Stewart, or the businesswoman placed the charm on someone else. It was a gift of the jibbering maws from beyond for her feeding it to Angel, who had been the Fifth before her.

"Don't mention it," Arsen replied with another toothy grin. "It is the least I can do for those helping me fight for a better world where those crusty old aristocrats are all gone."

The crowd responded to this comment in a mixed manner. Stewart and Ho were behind the sentiment, but Jing-wei and Fang seemed noticeably more annoyed.

"What?" the businesswoman pressed. "Do you really think those relics deserve the power they have? Ropen and Carnegie have all gone senile. I swear. Some of them are preaching that they have to give up all their wealth when they die! I don't believe it."

Agent Ho seemed lost at this point, but Agent Stewart was still with her, obviously.

"Yeah, they are just saying that so people don't tax or scrutinize them," the pseudo-Angel claimed proudly. Arsen could see the other woman's elf-like ears twitch excitedly behind the illusion with her magical third eye.

"Agent, watch what you say," Fang interjected authoritatively. "As the captain has instructed us, we must watch how our bias affects us. Just because someone is wealthy does not mean that they do not sincerely believe what they say. Likewise, being a beggar or coming from poverty will not guarantee that one will be virtuous in power."

The imp-like spy gave an annoyed look at her superior. "I will not tolerate any criticism of the Emperor."

"I wouldn't think of it, Agent Jing-wei," the man replied serenely. "I am just saying Enlightenment can be arrived at from many paths, each starting from a different origin. I come from wealth, embrace poverty by choice, and seek to improve myself without excessive attachment to worldly things. As for Zhangzi, I must confess that I lament my father being removed from his post. His expertise in bureaucracy kept Imperial Zhangzi running in his district, and the Tao loyalist who replaced him did not know what he was doing. A good leader does not need to demand loyalty but earns it instead."

"Cheers to that!" Jing-wei exclaimed, placated by her boss' answer.

"But insufficient loyalty was precisely what made Zhangzi a mess," Agent Ho pointed out dutifully. "Politicians plotted against each other constantly, and if this Phoenix program expands, can you blame Tao for erring on caution instead of effectiveness? Sabotage can be deadlier than incompetence, and it can be hard to know which is which under so much pressure from the GNA."

"Good point, Agent," Fang replied with a smile, showing appreciation to his subordinate. "You could say we need to find a balance between too much trust and too little. Too much trust opens us up to bad actors. Too little leads us to exclude skilled and talented individuals. Also, contained in an extreme lack of trust in others is excessive trust in oneself and vice versa. Wisdom begins with being critical in both others and oneself."

"Wisely said, commander," Jing-wei complimented, chewing on his words for a few seconds. "Honestly, I think everything would have been better if Joseon, Viet Bam, and the other former vassal states had supported Emperor Zhu against Chairman Tao's power grab. The Emperor would never have let the Westerners invade those under his protection or mismanaged agriculture like this. What do you think, Fifth Eye?"

"I think that instead of worrying about who you should trust, you should worry about who is trying to get into our train cart," Arsen answered in a loud whisper while pointing behind them. She had just noticed the sound-dampening spell in her magic eye.

They followed her finger to a door whose knob had quietly started to turn. The door was supposed to be locked, and no one was supposed to bother them in their private cart.

Those who had their weapons grabbed them.

The door opened rapidly, revealing a beautiful Russy woman with long crimson hair and eyes as green as emeralds. She wore a yellow top and brown pants. A green snake appeared around her right arm while her left hand wielded a silver rapier that crackled softly with green flames.

Dolores Arsen had no idea who this person was but couldn't help imagining the woman playing the femme fatale in a major blockbuster.

Glancing at the others, none of them seemed to know who this person was aside from their leader, Agent Fang.

"Borislava Kransi, why are you here?" the man asked.

"I could say the same, Mr. Fang," Kransi replied in a voice as smooth as velvet. "As you can see, I did not come for a pleasant chat."

She lifted her blade to announce her intent.

"But we are on your side," Fang responded, raising his dukes. He was ever-ready for a fight.

"You keep terrible company for someone claiming to be working with us, but this is an opportunity for you to prove yourself a person of proper proletarian piety," the fiery spellsword eloquently stated while locking her eyes on Agent Stewart and then pointing her silvery rapier at the woman. "Stand aside, and let me get my vengeance on this fake angel."

"And if I refuse?" the man asked, channeling acceleration spells. He wasn't about to let one of his teammates get killed.

Sparks came off of the rapier.

"Then—"

Fang didn't let Kransi finish her sentence. A split second later, Fang Shiyu tackled Kransi, defenestrating both of them through the train cart's window. The others were left to fend off the backup the Angel had brought with her.

"Well, this train ride got a whole lot more interesting," Arsen commented, tossing her luggage to the orange-haired spy from Brooklyn. "Alani, take the package and avoid any fire or explosion formulae like your life depends on it."

Then, the businesswoman leveled her gun at the first person who dared to pop his head through the doorway and sniped the unlucky man right through his mage barrier like it was made of paper. He was dead before he even knew he was hit.




Agent Fang Shiyu's mechanical arm grabbed the edge of the window and swung up to the top of the train cart as Borislava Kransi sailed through the air from the sheer amount of force behind his strike. The sounds of a revolver and screaming echoed below, making it clear he had made the right call. They had come to kill Agent Stewart for some reason, and Kransi was about to cast a spell with her rapier. She could have consumed the entire cabin in flames.

"Everyone, Authorization B — focus on keeping our guest alive," Fang messaged his allies as he scanned for threats.

"I see you are the punch first, talk later type," the voice of the Russy ace emanated from behind Fang.

He did a handstand into a kick, hitting but an illusion. The man dashed to avoid an attack.

"You are one to talk," he stated.

The real Kransi landed on the cart a few meters away from him. One of her arms clutched her side as her snake hissed at him. He knew she wouldn't be done in with just one full-powered blow. How she defended from ki-disruption, however, was a surprise to him.

"If I wanted to kill all of you, I wouldn't have bothered trying to talk to you when I saw who—"

A few more gunshots and screams cut off the redhead.

It was clear someone sent her a message, and her face twisted in anger.

"Tanechka should have known better than trust status quo defenders like you class traitors," Kransi raged. "Last chance to get out of my way so that I may kill that dares to pretend to be one of us Angels after what she did or face my blade."

Fang got back into his fighting stance. "Bring it."

"Don't say I didn't give you chances."

BOOM!

A green torrent of flames shot straight at him. Coating his natural arm in ki, he split the attack like a wedge. He ran at her, deflecting the rapier with his prosthetic and pressuring her back with his flurry of blows.

"You have gotten better than last we fought, Mr. Fang," she complimented. "Let's see if you can keep it up."

"Less talking, more fighting."

He missed this. Tanya kept him from combat after his injury, giving MI12 (Zhangzi's team) the riskier missions in Joseon. He was still in warzones, but his team wasn't suited for offensive magic at all.

Kransi obliged his request for punting diplomacy aside by hyperaccelerating into a barrage of rapier strikes. He hissed out in pain as one barely grazed him, but due to the heat coming off the blade, it seared him. Despite only having that single weapon, she functionally became a blazing hot porcupine of death. Now, he was on the back foot.

What can I do?

His eyes scanned for options.

Destroy the ground below her? No, civilians are potentially under us in the train cart.

Wait until she burns through all her mana? No, at this rate, we will be back to the Fifth's train cart, and Kransi can blow them all up.

There is only one option.


He dashed back rapidly, surprising Kransi for a microsecond before conjuring a tiny blade of mana.

He tossed it at her, and the redhead tried to block it with a barrier and her blade. It went through the barrier like a hot knife through butter, but the rapier deflected it.

"What the—"

Before Kransi could get a baring, he tossed a dozen more. Tanya called them mana shuriken. He called them Shallow Tail knives. They were his answer to his captain's worry that he couldn't deal with guns or powerful magical barriers. His master in Zhangzi had really put him through the wringer.

As for the Angel, she had not seen this magic before, and she had to focus on blocking rather than attacking as fast as possible. He had the initiative. As Tanya would say, if you were reacting, you were losing.

Suddenly, a rock broke the sound barrier, aimed right at his head. Instead of dodging the expected way, Fang Shiyu threw a dozen more blades and then accelerated behind Kransi while she was distracted by his projectiles. Needless to say, the rock missed him. He went for a punch, but there was another trick up his opponent's sleeve — a snake up the sleeve specifically.

It bared its fangs at Fang. It required him to reel in his instincts to avoid recoiling and attacking despite its bite. It shouldn't be able to pierce his mana-infused skin.

Fang used punch.

It was super effective.

Kransi's red hair flowed behind her like a wind carp decoration as she careened away from the train yet again. There was enough ki-disruption in that attack to knock out an elephant. Before he could see what happened to the ace of the European branch of Tanechka's Angels, Jing-wei popped up next to him.

Several more sonic booms occurred as stones hailed at them like machine gun fire. Thankfully, Jing-wei was there in the nick of time with her barrier spell.

"Thank—"

Before he could say anything, a boulder came at them, transforming into a giant cup-like shape that could scoop them up and trap them.

He grabbed his XO Jing-wei and started running up the train away from the bizarre attack. Thankfully, the lavender mage's barrier held firm from the supersonic rocks that continuously pelted it. He could barely make out from the periphery the face of Zemfira Novikov, the earth master of the Tanechka angels. Even though it had been four years and he had Jing-wei's barrier this time, that mage terrified him. Being buried alive will stick with you.

"Watch out!" the tiny woman at his side shouted.

A second giant cup-shaped stone formed and tried to get him from the other side. He couldn't go backward or forward, so there was only one way left — up!

He lept high in the air.

"Agent Fang, why?!"

What was wrong?

"Oh…."

The cups just followed him upward. Without his nimbus summoned, gravity was just going to bring him back down.

He clung onto his XO, but her fly speed was atrocious. Everything became darkness as the two hollow hemispheres of the earth came together around them.

"I am—"

He shut up when his voice echoed off the sides of their prison, magnifying the noise terribly.

Jing-wei squirmed out of his grip and pulled out one of her magical devices. He couldn't see much, even with the soft glow of the magical barrier that kept them physically safe. Then the barrier was gone, and there was a pop noise.

His vice commander had just punctured their prison with a tiny enchanted hammer device.

Pop, pop, pop.

Each hit created a hole that a small child could crawl out of. With a few hits, there was plenty of space to hop out.

Fang Shiyu landed in a field with a bunch of black-and-white Germanian cattle grazing lazily. He had burned through a lot of mana just keeping up with Kransi but could probably catch up with the train that had continued off in the distance.

Why didn't the conductor stop?

Before he could move, he found his feet embedded in the ground. Every time the martial artist tried to pull them out, he just sunk further into the ground.

"Commander, think before you leap next time, please," Jing-wei griped.

The earth master flew up to them.

"We meet again, Fang Shiyu of Zhangzi."

"Why can't you fight me on even ground?" the man complained. "This can't be fun for you."

"I don't fight because it is fun," the earth master replied while rolling her eyes. "And why would I fight you in your specialty? How is that fair to me?"

She had him there.

Jing-wei facepalmed and muttered to herself. "Fang…you incorrible piece of…calm down, Jing-wei. What would your mother say?"

After re-centering herself, the magical device user focused on Novikov.

"Why did you attack us?" the lavender inquired.

"You attacked Borislava Kransi."

Jing-wei glared at Fang.

"And you killed our comrades," Novikov added with a biting edge to her voice as she started molding splinters of stone to skewer them if Jing-wei's barrier went down.

It was clear that the earth mage could kill Fang Shiyu at any point. The fact she hadn't yet meant that Novikov was willing to talk, a luxury when you had all the power. Jing-wei could probably win in a battle of attrition, given her countless magical devices and spare mana crystals. The prideful detective could probably outlast any mage in the world, granted they didn't have a way to bypass a magical barrier, which earth mages couldn't.

"So why did you break into our cabin?" Jing-wei inquired for the both of them.

"Because we were tracking a Silver Legionist who had killed one of our sisters in deep cover."

"And you thought Alani was a Silver Legionist?"

"If that she is going by now, then yes. Our intelligence said she was from New Amsterdam and posing as one of us."

Fang and Jing-wei looked at each other.

"There is no way."

"Well, she did come a rough side of town before she joined the force. Could she have gotten into a clash with the actual Angels at some point?"

Zemfira Novikov squinted at them. "Are you two really unaware that you are working with a mass murderer?"

This revelation startled the two of them.

"Jing-wei, it is obviously not Alani then."

"Obviously, this has to be—"

"Zemfira, don't listen to anything these two have to say," Kransi interjected, limping up to their position beside the train tracks.

"How are you still—"

"Conscious? Like I am going to tell you two class traitors. Novikov, locked them up. We will send them to the safe house."

The earth mage steadily conjured a prison of mana-laced stone around them.

"Don't resist," she commanded them while levitating them behind her. "Or do it and prove me right about you guys again. You are lucky many of my comrades stubbornly trust you."

"There is a misund—"

Before they could correct the record, they were fully encased inside.

They tried to message their allies magically, but nothing seemed to be getting through Novikov's prison.





Back on the Trian to Essen

"Keep this train moving," Dolores "The Fifth" Arsen commanded the conductor. "We are not stopping until we get to Essen."

BANG

She downed another one of the Angel's agents with her revolver. The enemy cried out in Germanian, but Arsen didn't understand what they were saying.

The conductor seemed to get her meaning even if he didn't speak Albish.

Alani Stewart had pulled out her bat and ran mana through it. One enemy found that one strike from the blunt weapon cracked his barrier, and another shattered it. The Agent then swung at the guy's legs, hitting him with a painful whack and sending him to the ground. Curiously, the man didn't seem to have any serious injuries.

"Huh?"

Fred Ho confiscated the man's computation orb and cuffed him.

"Agent U developed this bat for me," Agent Stewart explained as they took cover on either side of the door. "It allows me to take down mages and people nonlethally and without causing serious injuries. It combines Rumelian spellsword magic with Ki-magic from the East. Cool?"

Arsen blinked. She had been reloading her revolver but paused in shock at what she was hearing. Even bought-off officers would be way more willing to use lethal violence in a shootout. These were definitely not spies or method actors.

"You really are with Interpol," she said in dreadful epiphany.

"Yep, and I'm proud of it," Stewart replied, practically beaming. "Agent U and I have been working on new, less lethal weapons for Interpol to use in the field."

"I think you landed the job because Tanya wanted to talk baseball with someone," Agent Ho commented.

"All she does is obsess over statistics, trying to predict who will win based on lineups, batting averages, and high-dollar trading of players between teams. She takes all the fun out of a game!"

"Some people like data and high information competition," the mundie countered.

"You guys are Interpol," Arsen repeated, finally processing this fact.

"Are you okay, Fifth?" Stewart inquired with concern lining her voice.

"Give me him," she stated, switching gears.

Ho panicked as she forcibly took the cuffed man, knocked him out, and lifted his body in front of her. She boosted her strength with a spell and clicked a switch on her custom computation orb. It went from the legal mono-core to an illegal dual-core level.

"What are you—"

"Making sure I don't die," Arsen interrupted. "Keep that bag safe, you mooks."

Stewart watched as the businesswoman used the unconscious man as a body shield. Arsen walked into the train cart, where the United Front grunts had started taking position behind knocked-over tables.

Many hesitated, not wanting to hurt their comrade. Their reluctance to do what needed to be done would be their downfall. Arsen had no such lack of restraint.

A few tried to pierce her shield, but mundane weapons could not penetrate a dual-core shield. One person had the guts to load enchanted rounds. One bullet went straight through her body shield and hit her. Unlike movies, a body shield didn't absorb hits for you unless it had body armor. This poor sod in her off arm didn't, but she did.

After neutralizing the guy with enchanted rounds, she focused on the grunts. They were irregular combatants without war experience like Arsen had. Their weapons were a mismatch of hunting rifles and other civilian arms. They were definitely not expensive mage gear. Hide as they might, she knew what her revolver could and could not penetrate. Those tables were expensive and made of hardwood. Her gun was top of the line, but it couldn't piece something like that.

In addition, she couldn't reload one-handed. That was why she advanced to her enemy's position until she had a clean shot.

The one mage in their group saw this and wasn't going just to let her march into his mundie comrades' position. When he popped his head out of cover, Arsen took him out, but not before the Angel from the Germanian United Front had set an explosion formula in the conductor's room.

The thing about explosion formulae was they never went off instantly. The shark-toothed cannibal dumped the bleeding-out body and boosted back into the conductor's trolley. There, she clicked her computation orb into tri-core mode and did a highly complicated maneuver of putting her barrier around the denotation point. All of this had to happen in a split second. Only Stewart, with her mono-core acceleration, could keep up. Fred Ho wouldn't know what just happened until a few moments after the spell went off.

The grunts behind her started to pop out to shoot her. Her barrier was around the denotation point, not herself. With a tri-core, she could easily contain the explosion.

"That is a—"

"Don't yap, AHHHH, protect me!"

"Right!"

Alani Stewart covered Arsen's six, using her far more inferior mage barrier as a bullet sponge, and the non-mage combatants soon found themselves needing to retreat from the K.O. bat. Then, a bullet cracked through Stewart's barrier, grazing the officer from New Amsterdam.

"Dammit," Arsen swore as she forced herself to get back into the thick of things. Redeploying her barrier, she protected Stewart as if her life depended on it because it did. In the bag strapped to the Interpol officer's back were high-grade explosives. Not only would their going off mean this whole mission would fail, but Arsen also didn't know if she would survive in the blast zone.

Soon, all the Angels and Germanian United Forces were dead or unconscious. When they finally knew they were safe, the three regrouped.

"That was a tri-core," Stewart stated with awe.

"Don't have a cow, Agent," Ho replied. "That is a serious crime having one of those. The Fifth Eye just killed several non-mages. Those were Angel-affiliated fighters out there. I don't think the Fifth is an Angel at all."

Arsen was confused. When had she said anything about being an Angel?

"What are you doing, Agent Ho," Stewart countered, coming to the businesswoman's defense. "Not only did she save all of our lives, including the conductor's, but clearly is providing us essential intel for our investigations in the suspected criminal actions of the Federation and GNA."

"Why are you defending her when she is obviously suspicious? Everything she does has been giving me red flags since we met her."

"You are just uncomfortable when a woman is stronger than you," Stewart pushed back. The charm twisted her thoughts into the most malicious framing it could.

"That is not at all what this is. Jing-wei also felt this way earlier when we were talking in the Zhangzi language. Plus, why would I join a mage team in Interpol if I am afraid of emasculation?"

Arsen tsked him, backing up her entranced puppet.

Stewart had put Ho on the back foot defending himself. Even trying to disprove it made one look back, and people were more likely to remember the accusation than its defense. Ho appeared to know as fear got on his features. Accusations alone cost people their jobs all the time, especially the accusation that someone was a communist or simply sympathetic.

Malicious Framing was one of Dolores Arsen's favorite propaganda techniques. It was used all the time to dissolve any support for anti-capitalist movements — call them dictatorships, invaders, imperialists, brutal killers, terrorists, sexists, racists, fascists, etc. Force your critics to defend the revolutionaries' actions — real or manufactured — and you don't have to defend your own. At worst, your former critics fall into both sides' neutrality, and the GNA could continue to do all the same things it accused the other side with impunity.

Neutrality was a very powerful tool to prevent change. Not only did it funnel criticism into non-action, but it virtually always fought against people actually doing anything to stop people like Dolores Arsen from getting away with their plotting because the people trying to stop monopolists weren't perfect.

The key to this malicious framing strategy was never admitting fault on your end. Just keep accusing and deflecting to the other side. When you are defending, you are losing. When you apologize, you have to make concessions. In other words, you lose nothing by deflecting but lose everything the moment sorry graces your lips. Well, you can admit guilt after it was far too late to do anything about it. The justice system existed to punish scapegoats, get the disorderly poor off the streets, and purge anyone the plutocrats deemed were 'terrorists' from society after all.

The only way around the malicious framing was to see the bigger picture, but that skill was available only to the privileged few—like those in Eight Eyes who saw all and would one day decide all.

Agent Ho mustered enough courage for a counterargument.

"Alani, explain to me why the Germanian United Front and the Angels attacked us."

"Borislava was just being paranoid and went after me for my ears."

"You know who is also claiming to be an Angel," Agent Ho countered. "The Fifth here. She is supposed to be Albish but clearly uses Ildoan American slang. She sounds like some knockoff mafia boss from the movies."

One, ouch. Two, this explained why they thought she was an Angel. The previous Fifth had been Interpol's mole in Eight Eyes. Now they thought she was her. Well, Anansi did say this mission would put her to the ultimate test. This curveball was one hell of a test. The Spider God was practically hazing her by having her work directly with cops practically working on the Reds payroll whether they knew it or not.

The two Interpol officers kept arguing, and Arsen would let the charmed Stewart continue defending her.

"This could be a false flag operation," Agent Stewart continued, getting visibly angry. "Borislava could have been paid off to put a wedge between us and the Angels."

"Which one is she? A dogmatic extremist or an opportunist who abandons the Reds for a bit of bread?"

"She could just have been tricked. Bad intel."

"Or she had good intel but confused you with the Fifth."

"Why would the Fifth be a fake Angel? We receive confirmation from Tanechka herself that a top-secret operation had put the Fifth there. All of the intel we got from the Fifth looks completely legit to me."

Agent Ho bit his lip. It was clear he had doubts.

Dolores Arsen decided it was time to step in.

"How about I prove I am on your side," she stated. "I know a hit has been put on Tanya von Weiss."

"Why haven't you told us that sooner?" the man asked.

"Because my mission is more important," she lied through her pointy teeth. "I didn't want any more leaks. See how much people wanted to kill us that they even sent a heavy hitter like Borislava Kransi to kill us. I don't know how they got her around their finger, but we clearly need to be more cautious."

"Agent Ho, the VIP that Karl von Ropen is after," Stewart interjected excitedly. "That has to be her. Weiss is far too popular in Germania to trust the mission with his own assassins. That was why he made a deal with Francois, who hates her."

"I don't know why Stewart trusts you so much, but I will go along for this mission for now," Ho surrendered with a face that showed he really didn't like this. "Stewart, can you contact Fang or Jing-wei?"

"No, I have tried. They are cut off."

"Okay, I contact Captain Sonata and let her know to keep her head low. What do we have to do next, Fifth Eye?"

Arsen glanced around the room. "We should probably do something about these bodies?"

She gestured to the unconscious and dead United Front irregulars.

"What do you have in mind?" Agent Ho asked and immediately regretted it. Well, it wasn't like she told him the truth. Why would she?





Citations:
  1. Macknight, Hugh. "Aristocracy 'ate human flesh'." Independent.com. May 20, 2011. <https://www.the-independent.com/life-style/history/aristocracy-ate-human-flesh-2287174.html>
  2. Merchant, Brian. "The CIA Helped Build the Content Farm That Churns Out American Literature." Vice.com. February 11, 2014. <https://www.vice.com/en/article/how-the-cia-turned-american-literature-into-a-content-farm/>
 
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Chapter 23-29 Reorganisation 25.12.2024 New
The Fear and Change Arc has been split in two for readibility and ease of editing.

The Soul Space Arc will be in Threadmarks with new titles.
The real world arc with Fang Shiyu's team will be in Side Stories under the heading Bombs Away.

If you have any other advice, let me know.

I personally felt that I let this arc grow unwieldly and will try to tighten it up when I revisit it. Sorry for the inconvenience.
 
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