Mages of Interpol 15 (Youjo Senki)

[LoreleiFlowers]

Last Time in Mages of Interpol 15: Tanya was captured by the Silver Legion and hypnotized to do horrible things. Now, she is free, and her time of vengeance is nearly upon her.

Content Warning: The Silver Legion is super prejudiced. Expect sexism, racism, homophobia, and more.

Disclaimer: This chapter is about alt-history of the interwar period. Defeating fascists and revolution plays a major role in this chapter.

Lorelei's Note: We have over 300 pages published since the first chapter was posted on July 20th, 2024. Seeing that I started with 75 pages pre-written, that is quite a pace to finish a book-length story. I hope you enjoy the finale of the first volume.

Also, remember the characters are characters, not me.

---

Sugar House Prison, Unified States - 15th November, 1915

37 years ago

Ramona Mercer blinked back tears as the cold stung her cheeks. She was just sixteen but had already experienced hard labor and had taken a man's life. Still, the coldness from her past and from the fall day had nothing on the coldness before her.

"You don't have to watch this," Amber Canary stated with a warmness that painted over the tragedy.

The child-like elder had taken Ramona in after her parents had died from the diseases of despair and the coldness of winter. They had long given up life by the time Ramona had been taken into the boarding schools to be de-Indianed. Several of her fellow kids died from exposure as the dorms had been completed before they got taken from their parents, and it was those same kids who were expected to finish building those on behalf of the school. They were being trained to be useful workers, after all.

Ramona had survived due to the blessing of magic that kept her body warm as the snow took others' lives. She had been spared from the forced sterilizations the other women received due to her blessings, as others had their futures decided for them.

The winter paints the world in white ubiquity. 'Isn't the winter so pretty?' Arthur Pelley says, as the season takes and takes and leaves the world without color. But one day, this winter shall pass. Underneath that snow, we wait for a moment to emerge and bring spring and life back to the world.

She didn't see the Canaries as family. Amber was still a good friend. They taught each other about their families and traditions.

"I need to see this," the teenager replied with steel-like determination.

The police kept the gathered crowd back as they prepared to execute Joe Hill. Pulitzer's sensationalist journalists crowded up front, blocking the view for most of the people there in solidarity with the victim of injustice. Governor Arthur Pelley of the Silver Legion party gave a speech about how supposed Mr. Hill had killed a police officer and a son in a grocery store. Ramona knew that wasn't true, but he was the scapegoat.

In the socialist newspaper Appeal to Reason, they explained that the Silver Legion "thought that Joe Hill was a friendless tramp, a Nord, and worst of all, a Wobblie, so he had no right to live anyway. It was his duty to be the scapegoat." Wobblies were worker activists in the IWW, and Mr. Hill definitely had friends with the anarchists who fought the cruelty of the system around them with any means at their disposal.

"Any last words?" Governor Pelley, who was also the president of the Silver Oil Company, inquired of his victim as the firing squad loaded their rifles in their box. "Your silence during the trial condemned you enough. Nothing you say now will matter."

The activist wasn't going to waste a chance to spread the word of his cause. "Everyone, don't mourn me. Organize. You have to organize."

The stupid governor did not know how wrong he was. Mr. Hill's silence had saved Ramona and her friends from the same fate, and his words now would plant the seeds for when spring came.

Pelley had Hill blindfolded and restrained to a chair before getting out of the way. Journalists took copious photos. His fellow activists knew to keep their voices down. If they agitated, they might end up just like Hill — a martyr he might be, but that was two fewer hands to build the movement.

The firing squad in their blacksmith shop hesitated despite getting the order to shoot.

"Fire—go on and fire!" Joe Hill roared angrily, urging them to confront the cruelty the soldiers knew they were doing.

Helen Keller, U.S. President Wilson, and the Norden Embassy had all decried the sham trial and the coming execution. Arthur Pelley and his judges did not listen to any authority other than their own.

The firing squad died. Ramona learned that real power came from the end of the gun — not words, not elected officials, and certainly not pleas for morality. That day, the governor found dynamite on his driveway. They suspected it had been the IWW and the anarchists. They did not know it had been Ramona. She had wrapped the dynamite in a paper in the same color as Arthur Pelley's concrete. The police defused it, and the evilest man in the world went to bed in his warm white and silver sheets while the wobblies took Mr. Hill's ashes out of state so that he might be laid to rest away outside the borders the Silver Legion controlled.

The Canary's didn't know it had been her. Amber might have understood. Mary certainly wouldn't and would have kicked out the girl rather than have her bring trouble to her house and her family.

"Let's go home," Amber suggested, keeping her words few lest she say something she shouldn't.

As they walked home together, the old war vet told Ramona fanciful stories. She didn't care for fairytales anymore. Reality had made her grow up fast, and it was that she needed to live in reality.

---

Rural Midwestern Unified States - 5th of December, 1952


Ramona Mercer carefully carved and imbued her ammunition with enchantments as the snow fell around her. She despised the snow.

If she had anything to be happy about, it was that she took Joe Hill's words to heart, and it paid off. Lashing out blindly was not good enough. She needed to be precise and surgical in her action, but the organs of revolution also required to be gathered.

"You really think the Old Federation was better than the Federation after the Second Revolution?" Damien commented, aghast at Ramona.

Damien had joined the ranks of the Revolutionary Army from the Students Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), which had increasingly adopted the 'Brotsky Insurgency Process' praxis. Ramona didn't know much about the young activist besides that he had clearly dropped the nonviolent part now that revolution was upon them.

To be fair, Damien didn't know much about her. What she did know was that his anti-authoritarian, grassroots stuff didn't appeal to her as much as the reliance on more seasoned leadership under the Marksist-Levinist vanguard style to get a movement past the finish line. Urban civic revolutionaries like Damien might be able to bring out the numbers, but they are far too fractious and intolerant of nationalism and the Bolshevization of their ranks.

"Yes, I think was the greatest leader the Federation ever had," the mage calmly replied as she etched the next part of the glyph. "You shouldn't compare what they had back then to any romantic conception of a perfect government you have in your head. We don't live in a fairyland. Instead, compare to what came before. It was leagues better than the tsarist regime. We gave people new rights, freedoms, and opportunities they never had before."

During the war, when the then-adult Ramona was conscripted like all poor mages, the woman learned of the Old Federation from fighting beside them. She knew how they had overthrown their tyrants and then proceeded to defeat everyone who dared to invade their new country. Not only had they done it, but they had a detailed blueprint that anyone who wanted to be free to expel the tyrants in their land and set up a government for the people. More importantly, it worked. Countless subjugated people could use the Marksist-Levinist praxis to be free finally. No more starving, no more Arthur Pelleys. It wouldn't be a fairytale, but it would be a land for their people that could survive the evil imperialists in America and Europa.

"What about the purges?" the man pressed her.

"'What about the purges?' The Western media overblows them completely and conflates all the things going on together. Many people didn't get sentenced. If anything, Dzhugashvili didn't kill enough opportunists, imperialists, and revisionists. If he had, the Second Revolution would never have happened. That coup only sowed confusion and division within the Federation. These new parties represent different class interests, undoing years of Comrade Joseph Dzhugashvili and Comrade Vladimir Levin's hard work."

"I have met a person who fled the Old Federation," Damien claimed with a dumbfounded expression as if he were talking to a person from another reality. "He told me how horrible it was."

"Probably imperialist scum," the woman scoffed. "The West loves inviting the poor fascists and imperialists over and giving them a platform to advocate for how awful it was that we were mean to them. Of course, we were harsh on them. Imperialists rape, pillage, and kill. Have you heard of the pogroms?"

"Yes, I have, but the person I met was a baker," Damien countered. "He wasn't some rich capitalist. He supported the party. Still, he saw how bad it was getting. Joseph Dzhugashvili disbanded the women's councils, banned abortion and divorce, threw homosexual men and women into labor camps and asylums, and ended gender-affirming surgeries for trans people. He undid so much progress that had occurred under Vladimir Levin and Leon Brotsky. If Joseph Dzhugashvili hadn't taken power, my friend claimed it wouldn't have devolved into the power-hungry, self-glorifying cult of personality it became. We don't need White Silvers in proletariat drag."

Ramona picked up the brass cartridge and blew on it to let the metal cool and the ink of her enchantment dry. Enchanting ammunition was based on traditional arcane knowledge. The robber barons in the Unified States had taken the previously unpatented traditional arcane knowledge, claimed it as their own, and then sent their armies to conquer her homeland with factory-made enchanted ammunition.

Ramona had actually taught the old ways of enchanting ammunition to the settler Amber "Calamity" Canary. Her former student believed in the tenets of liberation theology despite being a secular cultural Heartist, and they had seen each other as comrades when fighting imperialists during the Great War.

As for dealing with her current interlocutor, there were limits to how much debating she would do. She imagined how she felt now, which was how Joseph Dzhugashvili felt when dealing with Leon Brotsky back in the day. There is a lot of criticism and not a lot of effective leadership.

As Ramona understood it, real power came at the end of a gun. People in the real world needed to accept that to have a lasting legacy — that is, a revolution that succeeded in its ambition and survived against the onslaught of capitalist invaders and spycraft, you were going to have to use that gun. To put it another way, Death was ugly, and power frightened people. To lead, you had to have a foot in both death and power, which gave people like her interlocutor plenty of ammunition to play the morally superior opposition.

It was time to turn things around instead of being on the receiving end.

"What do you believe in, Damien?" Romona inquired, getting back to the painstaking work of making enchanted ammunition by hand.

"I am definitely not Orthodox. I am up with the World Federationist camp with the others who see themselves as left communist and fans of Brotsky's administration."

Typical World Federationist. They want all the ideas and interests at the table even when they are directly opposed to one another. Their lack of consistency and clarity makes them weak under pressure.

Convincing these more progressive types with fiery, youthful idealism and opinions born of encountering new ideas for the first time was not the veteran's strong suit. They had just shucked off the authority of their parents and bought Brotsky's bottom-up grassroots theory of permanent revolution. They, at most, could get a concession from the powerful through such tactics. Without the necessary evil of the top-down Orthodox approach, they will never be in charge of anything. They even rejected Martin Bishop of the Southern Universalist Leadership Conference for being too authoritarian and emphasizing singular charismatic leadership. As Ramona saw it, people like Damien were so anti-establishment that they were allergic to having any meaningful power at all.

Ramona took a deep breath and figured out how best to levy her criticisms of the other side of the Orthodox-Worldist divide tactically.

"You know why we call it left communism? Because they left communism." She started giving a weak chuckle at the cliche joke before getting serious again.

"As for Brotsky, he is not as bad as his followers," she continued before a steely edge entered her voice. "No group supposedly inside worker's cause has done more harm to the revolution than the Brotskyists. They spend so much time criticizing successful revolutions and very little time actually advocating for them. Imperialists love hiring them because Brotskists are a useful tool to dissuade revolutionaries from Marksist-Levinism, the praxis that actually works to liberate people in the real world. When the Brotskyists have a successful revolution against people who aren't other Marksists, then I will take them seriously."

They sat there for a moment in silence. To his credit, the World Federationists didn't go on and on about how Brotskyists just need a chance to prove themselves capable of change.

Some people in the distance started singing some of Odyssia Ono's famous socialist song This Land is Your Land, which loudly proclaimed the land and its beauty belonged to one and all. To Ramona, the song offensively erased how all these 'immigrants' came to be on this land and who was there before. IWW people would sing this song and Same Boat Now, which asked black people to put aside the forced relocation of African people to North America to focus on worker solidarity. The World Federationists loved these songs. The Orthodox factions, not so much.

"What are your thoughts about nationalism, Damien?" she inquired.

"That it leads to war and exists to divide people and keep labor trapped like serfs on a piece of land."

He wasn't wrong in some regards. Sweatshop countries and unequal exchange definitely made policing borders important to capitalists to keep cheap labor where they wanted it to be.

"Do you want to know what a nation means to me?" she inquired.

He shook his head. It was a rhetorical question anyway. Damien didn't know her perspective at all.

"Freedom," she began with a bit of fire entering her voice. "Dignity. Control over your destiny. The ability to stand tall. The ability to have your own language and culture. To have people who are like you and understand you to be in charge and make decisions that respect you and your family."

"You want an ethnostate?" the man blinked when he connected the dots behind the words. "That is what the Destiny Manifest was about."

"That was not what the Destiny Manifest was about. That was the opposite of what I wanted. That is a group of people who think no one else matters but them, and so they get to take and take and take and then kill and kick out all the people they find there."

"But you want to kick people out of places."

"Damien, people have tried to live side-by-side with the colonizers for decades. It ain't getting better. The Black Liberation Movement gets this. The Brown Berets know this. The American Indian Movement knows this. Before you criticize it, look around the entire globe. How do you get freedom from oppressors?"

"Revolution, of course, but—"

"No, revolution is just a result. It is nationalism and class solidarity. In order to have solidarity, you have to circle your culture and your common conditions. If you don't, you will crumble. Most successful revolutions are an alloy of nationalism and working-class struggle. What you are going to find is that colonial liberals at the centrist edge of your faction, who are only here strategically to oust Yockey, will take power and then send the Silver Legion armies under them on all of us. They don't want what we want. They want to bring back their preferred liberal democratic order where they are at the top, and we are at the bottom, being snuffed out quietly."

Damien rubbed his forehead. Most of the people in the SNCC knew that compromising with moderates was a recipe for being backstabbed. It was why the Popular Front didn't work. It was why Brotsky pushed for the United Front. However, just like the Commonwealth had joined up when they were threatened by the Silver Legion, a bunch of liberals in America had joined up in the revolution because the current Legionist administration did not serve their interests.

The man couldn't contradict her on reality history had made clear over and over. She might look younger than she was due to being a war mage, but her voice carried experience and study in its texture.

"Ramona, may I ask if there anything good you can say about the Reformed Federation and the Brotsky administration?" the man wondered, referring to the very much internationalist revolutionary core of communism in the modern world.

"Yes, Brotsky didn't sign the Defensive Pact with the Unified States," the mage soldier replied evenly. "It would have given him an opening to invade Europa and helped the poor people there communize; however, no one should trust fascists. Just like the Silver Legion planned to do with the Commonwealth, they would have done to the Federation."

"Is there any criticism of the Old Federation that you won't immediately respond with 'Western propaganda', 'traitors', or 'it was necessary at the time'?" the idealist inquired. "There seems to be no room for you to be wrong anywhere with all of these canned responses."

"That is because I don't have time to go over all the literature and history with you."

"I have read history from communists during this period. A lot of people in the World Congress despise the Old Federation."

"Many of those are not proper dialecticians but revisionists, opportunists, idealists, and people who would rather argue than get things done. By changing things that shouldn't be changed in order to just distance themselves from the Old Federation like this, they move off the path to communism and undermine their own revolutions like you World Federationists."

"Do you accept any criticisms?!" the man cried.

"Of course, we make mistakes. Who doesn't?"

She shook her head in exasperation and continued to enchant her ammo.

"Look at what Dzhugashvili accomplished," Ramond continued after a few moments. "People were pulled out of their backward poverty, where they were using wooden hoes, into being more literate, better educated, and better fed than even the richest capitalist nations. The entirety of the Imperial core in Europa fears the Federation due to all of Dzhugashvili's accomplishments as its great leader. Capitalists want to contain us because they know Marksist-Levinist administrations are so effective at creating superpowers out of even once agrarian economies. They are already afraid of what Zhangzi will become. Marxist-Levinists have done more in decades than what capitalist countries can only do after centuries of imperialism, taking advantage of millions of people and their resources in Afrika, South and Central America, and Asia. People have doctors for the first time. People are learning to read when their colonial masters wouldn't let them and in their own language. Marksist-Levinism helps people stand tall."

"But it also creates cults of personality by focusing everything on standing behind charismatic faces of the party."

"Cults of personality?! The colonial settlers have their Founding Fathers. Why can't the Old Federation have pride in its vanguard? This seems like a double—"

"No, I can't take all this Dzhugashvili apologetics anymore." Damien got up and claimed the last word in the showy way, in Ramona's opinion, that idealists love having. "I have talked to fundies with more open minds than you. I just can't see you as anything other than the fascist version of a communist."

You are the one without an open mind, the gunner thought privately. There was no point in debating with fools. That was why she had her gun when push became shove.

To be fair, Ramona was a hard-liner. She turned off many other Marksist-Levinists, especially the more democratic and internationalist ones, but she did not care. Half-measures were not enough. Calls to be polite and sit on one's hands as colonists and capitalists raped, pillaged, and did atrocity after atrocity would no longer persuade her or her vanguard of fellow hard-liners. Dzhugashvili was a hero to everyone who wanted their own country in a world full of monsters who tore people apart for profit and their countless complicit lackeys who moralized about being patient and jumping through the electoral hoops that the monsters had rigged.

Damn anyone who thought I should ask politely to be free as my brothers and sisters die. They can die a hundred times over for their disgusting, pearl-clutching rhetoric. It is so easy to tell others to be gentle when one isn't the one suffering.

After painstaking work to reach perfection, the fruits of Ramona's hard labor lay before her — three bullets. Each promised certain death for an enemy of the revolution. Freed from the toil, she made sure to get some leisure time with her friends by joining them in some fun before they headed out. Everyone deserves time to enjoy life.

Not much later, word spread that they needed to move to the suburban town of Autumn's Meadow to counter the Legion's Horde of non-mage zealots. While they were a threat to the revolution, more significant threats were her aim. Ramona knew she was not throwing away her shot.

---

Silver House Lawn in Chicago, Unified States - 5th of December, 1952


President Yockey stood in the recording booth with his mages, carefully patrolling the vicinity. A magetech engineer gave him the thumbs-up when they were rolling.

"My fellow Americans, this is your President, Francis Yockey, here for a very important Pyre-side chat.

"As you know, the lying press has slandered me and your fellow Real Americans terribly. As you all know, you can only trust me and the Pulitzer News Network for all your information, for only we are truthful and accurate. We have all the answers, and only I can bring our country out of humiliation into greatness. It will be just like it used to be in that glorious past that we all remember when everything was better. Back when men were men and women were women, the races never mixed, and women couldn't vote. You all know that democracy has failed us by causing the subversion of our culture and the mixing of peoples that should not be mixed. That is why we need to place our trust in the Silver Legion."

He took a moment to take a sip of soda before continuing.

"I am telling you that everything boils down to us versus them, truth versus lies. Close your ears to the lying press, the coastal elites, and the foreign infiltrators who tell you horrible falsehoods like that what you are doing is wrong. They wish to make you hate your country and tempt you off the Silver path, but Real Americans like us stay on that path and push past all doubts. White Silver imbues us with truth and honesty. We Real Americans live in reality and follow first principles.

"Now, listen to me and only me, for we are at a turning point in history where we must revitalize our culture again with Old Faith spirit. We need to burn out all the recent immoral developments in literature, in the theater, and in the press — in short, we must burn out the poison of immorality, which has entered into our whole life and culture as a result of liberal excess."

The President then went on and on about each marginalized group that was the 'real threat' to America and had really 'impoverished' his base. Francis Yockey celebrated how he had continued Arthur Pelley's 'Aztec Repatriation' program from the late 1930s with his new initiative called 'Operation Kickback'. (1) Just like Pelley's, his initiative had moved over a million Aztec-looking people out of the country, (1) freeing up valuable real estate for Yockey's eager friends. The colonists had conquered the American Southwest fair and square over a century ago. That meant they got to do whatever they wanted with those animals, especially now that the agribusiness didn't need many of them anymore.

The great about Operation Kickback and the mass incarnation initiative was that they put the inferior beings in places where they wouldn't be organizing for welfare or revolution.

As for religion, Yockey honestly disliked the Old Faith for its ever-present themes of hierarchy inversion, where the poor were blessed and not the rich, as well as the idea that voluntary poverty was a good thing. Yockey, however, could fake it. He needed to employ such theater to manipulate the ethnonationalists and religious nationalists in the Silver Legion's base into focusing their efforts on whatever the monopolists also wanted.

For example, business nationalists hated unions. Public schools were rife with unions. ethnonationalists hated how public schools mixed people, and religious nationalists hated them for their institutional secularism. Ending public schooling made them all happy because it would get rid of the union and create a system where the now exclusively for-profit schools could choose their students under whatever criteria they wanted, just like employers do when hiring people. Goodbye education for pesky minorities who would become much more manageable workers if they couldn't read or write.

Really, only a few people actually needed to think in society. The moment they got a machine that could replace all the workers, Yockey would happily get rid of all of the parasites known as the working class and kick them out of his country.

Finding common denominators to unify the ruling coalition under a monopolist-benefiting ideology had been Yockey's life work, and it had proven immensely profitable. As long as the other groups got what they wanted (a monocultural theocracy), the monopolists could do away with democratic norms and rule as they saw fit. The White Silver Creed of absolute private property rights had stealthily been made a foundational part of the Swordist faith and the new post-war American monoculture. Now, to believe in anything other than monopolist rule was to be demonic and un-American.

After his speech was done and the people sent out to wreak havoc on inferior beings, Yockey left the Silver House in Chicago and boarded a flight to Wien, Germania. This would mean that Emperor Cassander and Empress Roxanne would just have to meet with the Goddess alone, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Richard Diamond didn't trust things were safe. Yockey, following his friend's lead, would abandon the ship as well.

It would look bad, and stock in the Unified States would plummet if their leader indicated he didn't trust the country was a going concern. President Yockey still trusted that the Goddess would kill the revolutionaries, but he also trusted that the United Front would have an assassin after him. He wouldn't end up like George Lundeen did during the Great War.

---

Freedom's Egg somewhere in Chicago, Unified States - 5th of December, 1952


I watched the snow as it fell outside the window of my little house, which was made of ticky tacky. Soon, the fake neighborhood would be painted in white ubiquity. In my bones, I could feel the change was coming to America, and so was the snow. I hoped the revolutionaries dressed warmly.

Despite all my worries and rage, I somehow found the ability to laugh in the moment of calm I had before the show started, and I could leave my gilded cage. The banter of my friends did my old soul good.

"But I want to live in society!" Laurence "Masquerade" Drake cried in mock frustration.

"No more society!" Polyxena Mironova declared dramatically with a raised fist. "Return to monkey!"

The two had a great dynamic together, and their antics were the medicine I needed to distract myself from my pain as well as feel somewhat normal again — wings and all. It was good to find out Polyxena's real name now. Apparently, she and Masquerade had gotten past a lot of their relationship struggles over the years after Polyxena ended her partnership with the Albish Secret Service. They would have to live in a country that didn't ally with the Commonwealth, but that wasn't too hard. Polyxena had even let me know that the couple planned to have a child after they settled somewhere. As for the fate of MI15, it was one step at a time before any big decisions were made.

I wanted to have a child, too. I wasn't sure if it was the hormones in my body, instinct, or what, but every time when my friends and loved ones had a child, the desire would swirl through my being. Settling down with Sonnetto had been my plan, but one didn't make decisions unilaterally in a relationship. I wonder if my love still wanted to work in MI15. I certainly did. Maybe we could convince Matheus to join, too.

Back to the subject of having a child, this life had left me severely traumatized. I didn't know if I could handle the responsibilities of being a good mother. How does someone have as much pain in them as me and not become such a dysregulated individual? I had intense minority stress that plagued the back of my mind constantly. My mind generated paranoid fantasies of every possible sneer and ostracism if word spread of my various peculiarities. After several decades of hiding behind a mask of conformity in my first life as a 'salaryman' and this life as a 'perfect officer', nothing terrified me more than being without its safety. Only in Berun had I ever lived even the slightest bit openly, and everywhere else was hypervigilance for every potential belligerent bigot or vengeful veteran.

I really have way too many enemies. Is this what life on hard mode feels like?

"Tanya," Polyxena stated, getting me out of my thoughts. "Do you want to know about how Borislava, Laurie, and I applied to become your new neighbors?"

'Laurie' was what the assassin affectionately dubbed Masquerade. The man embraced the name with his typical passion for artistic subversion. Didn't he know that by subverting expectations, all he did was reinforce them? Regardless, whatever made the man happy was none of the business within reason.

I nodded to Polyxena's question, not trusting to speak right now lest I say something I regret. Irrational behavior from the extremes of emotions, and I had a long and troubled history. It had pushed me in front of a train and caused me to run right into a trap that put me in this silver cage of supposed suburban splendor.

"So we three former spies posed as professional actors," the assassin began her story.

"I am a professional actor," Masquerade interjected.

"Yes, you are, dear. You are very accomplished!"

"Okay, I am awfully sorry. I should not have not interrupted like that."

"You are forgiven," Polyxena placated. "I love you." Kiss

Turning to me, she continued. "So Borislava and I had to play being the wife. Obviously, there were no single women in your neighborhood, given the artificial culture of Freedom's Egg. Before you ask, yes, it was a bit of a challenge dealing with Borislava. She is just so damn competitive."

"I had to play the husband," Masquerade commented. "It was rather awkward having to perform matrimonial bliss with Borislava."

"Why was that?" I inquired in confusion. He clearly would have had to pair with several actresses.

"For starters, she is my girlfriend's ex," he admitted.

"Okay, I can see that causing some tension," I replied with a shake of my head. I knew the politics of relationships well now.

"She also tried to kill me during the Museum heist case," the thespian added with exaggerated nonchalance.

A peel of laughter leaped from my mouth.

"Well, we patched things up now," Polyxena commented with a surprising amount of grace for someone whose significant other had almost died. "She didn't know Tanechka was using the Angels in that highly performative heist to make my cover as a free agent working for the Albish Secret Service more believable. Spycraft requires a level of deceit even within our own ranks. Borislava understands this, and we are all friends again despite our strongly held political differences."

"I swear she still holds a grudge," the Albish man confessed, pulling at his ascot. The couple were the absolute image of American yuppies.

"Like I said, she is just competitive," the woman repeated calmly. "None of those hijinks during the auditions were because my ex was out to get you. As for the other competitors, she very much was making sure they didn't win."

"Well, luckily, you and I won in the end."

"I killed it on stage," Polyxena bragged, puffing out her chest.

"You definitely slay, dear."

"Literally," I added in a weak attempt at humor, which was not my strong suit. My imagination told me that Polyxena's dark humor didn't put off the Silver Legionists as much as did other people.

"Speaking of people who wanted to kill you, dear," the assassin added. "Can I tell Tanya the Warrick and Lundeen story?"

I had no idea who those two were without more context. I probably met individuals with those names, but they probably meant other spies.

"It is all old news now," Masquerade replied with a smile. "Go ahead. I am sure Elya won't mind."

"Elya?" I blinked in surprise. "Now I need to know. What did my friend do?"

"Well, during the war, she had infiltrated the U.S. government under the name Sally Warrick in order to discourage this country from joining the allies against Germania," Polyxena explained with a bit of smug joy. "She would get her senators and congressional staffers to read speeches she wrote for them on the congressional floor, and those speeches would then be added to the congressional record. Then, using Congress' ability to print and mail records to the public on the taxpayer dollar, Elya created a very effective and relatively cheap anti-war and pro-Germania propaganda campaign.

"You would be proud of how under-budget and efficient her influencing campaign had been. In order to pull this stunt off, your friend had subverted several staffers and legislators by settling their debts, assisting them in a time of desperation, or helping them find discrete ways to satisfy their carnal desires during the Prohibition era."

"The intelligence community calls her the Genie of Germania for a reason," Masquerade smartly added when he saw an opening. "Legend says she grants a person their deepest wish but at a terrible price."

"I know that moniker," Tanya exclaimed. "The Genie appears in cinema all the time to seduce men and their wives, trying to turn them into traitors to the Unified States. I appear as well as both the Devil of the Rhine punishing the unfaithful and as White Silver, the one who leads empires to impossible victories. Both sicken me a bit."

"Well, as for Elya, she sure felt like a devil during the war," Masquerade admitted. "We were losing the diplomacy game with the Unified States. Based on my intelligence, the allies backed the Silver Legion, who were far more jingoistic. Despite their love of Germanian culture, they saw an opportunity to pick at the remains of Europa near the end of the war like a vulture to road kill. The Empire just happened to be on its last legs and had many enemies that could become many allies to the monopolists in the Silver Legion as their party started gaining momentum in the polls and more seats in government."

"We shouldn't forget about Senator Lundeen," Polyxena mentioned. "He is key to this part of the story."

"I remember that name now!" I commented. "He was the Senator from Minnesota who was working with Germania. He died in a car accident. It was a big deal because it led to America joining the war."

Masquerade went stiff, but Polyxena kept going.

"Exactly, it worked more wonderfully than Borislava and I could have ever hoped," the assassin stated. "My ex, always the pyromaniac among the Russy spies back then, had planted a bomb in his car with the hope he would just die. He was blocking the vote for the Unified State to join the war. He kept employing anti-communist propaganda to dissuade people from working with the Old Federation and saying that both Germania and Albion were equally empires with terrible track records on human rights.

"What Borislava and I didn't expect was for a briefcase full of Elya's speeches to be in the car and to survive the explosion. Instead of having to pin the blame on Germania for the death of a Senator, everyone now knew Germania had effectively plundered the coffers of the federal government to manipulate public opinion. While the revelation had turned the public against the Reconstructionists and the Grand Old South Party, it gave the public a casus belli to rally behind. Your friend Elya blamed poor Laurie here for the stunt, but my sweetie would never do something like that. He is too nice to use such methods."

"Dear, perhaps we shouldn't—"

"Did you cause America to join the war against the Empire?" I wondered with exasperation. "The Silver Legion took power because they found out about those speeches?!"

The assassin went quiet as she realized her misstep.

"To be fair, everyone was trying to turn the Unified States to their side during the Great War," Masquerade attempted to appease her.

"Well, there was a silver lining to all of this," Polyxena added. "Because Elya fled the Unified States for her life and chased after us to the Russy Federation, your friend was in a great position to negotiate a ceasefire so that you could be rescued from Loria's dollhouse, which also led to the coup against that damned tyrannical counter-revolutionary Dzhugashvili."

"What?!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Everything about my imprisonment made a lot more horrifying sense now.

"Perhaps we should discuss something other than that, honey," the thespian commented before whispering something in Russy that I couldn't hear.

"Oh…uhhhh," Polyxena stammered. "Your bag! Wait right there."

Masquerade and I were left alone for a moment as Polyxena went back to their 'house' across the street. The man had to keep up his spell to hijack the video and audio feed from the computation orbs in the room. It was horrifying that people watched my every move. Interestingly, once my brainwashing had been broken, I apparently disappeared from the video feed. That would be a valuable ability for the infiltration mission when I got back to Mages of Interpol missions again.

Work, how I miss you so much. Life is empty without you. Only Sonnetto and my family are more important to me than you.

Masquerade pulled me into a hug with his free hand while I distracted myself from a mental breakdown by having a mental conversation with the personification of my occupation. I might need some therapy from a professional who didn't think homosexuality was a disease.

"It is all going to be fine," my acting captain promised. "We will get you out of here, and you can live with us and your family again."

"Thank you," I muttered and rubbed my eyes with his silly ascot, which he had given me in the absence of an immediately apparent better option.

Polyxena popped back soon after and plopped the white poppy duffel bag Masquerade had gifted me a couple of years ago. The bag had a bunch of familiar objects like the bosun whistle Calamity gave me, as well as my favorite novels, puzzle books, and letters from my friends and family, including Visha, to whom I really needed to talk at some point. Each object brought a bit more normalcy back to my bizarre, horrific situation. I had no idea how the assassin got it in here, but she came across as a person who knew how to do 'questionable' things easily.

"Tadaa!" the assassin exclaimed as she pulled out a grumpy cat stuffed animal that Sonnetto had made for me.

I glomped onto it. It was childish of me. I knew that, but the thought had nagged me ever since I fully fused with Sonnetto long ago that I needed to permit myself just to do things that made me happy more often. 'If one never took time in the present to be satisfied, then one might find they miss every chance,' as Sonnetto would tell me. Her words rang to my very core. How often had I missed a way out of my misery in the past because I wouldn't permit myself to take it?

Regardless, I would soon have an excellent opportunity to leave this prison and rejoin Sonnetto and take out a majority of high-ranking Silver Legionists. With a bit of misdirection, we had given the Legion the impression that I was not ready to move out yet, which let the Revolutionary Army advance. At the same time, the Silver Legion mostly sat on their asses, waiting patiently for their Goddess.

---

Autumn's Meadow, Ohio - 6th of December, 1952


Amber "Calamity" Canary held her rifle close to her chest as angry chants of the Silver Legion's Hoarding Horde (HH) echoed outside. The Silver Legion had created the HH as their non-mage paramilitary organization to do unofficially approved acts of violence on behalf of the party. The gunslinger kept her breathing steady, but depending on what happened, people could die. The house had gone quiet like the forest when a predator prowled nearby.

Demiguichi Akria and two Aztec families hid in the attic above her. The former had come to assist the revolutionaries in messaging, organizing, and logistics on behalf of Tanechka's Angels and the United Front. The families had come to the Unified States as seasonal migrant farmers before the Immigration Act set harsh quotas in order to make America more Northern European. The modern planter aristocracy depended on the cheap labor they could get out of families like theirs. The fat cats lobbied to give their workforce permanent resident status instead of having them trapped south of the border years ago. Then, automation in the agricultural industry drummed out countless farm laborers out of work.

That was where Autumn's Meadow, Ohio, came in. The town had a labor shortage for their businesses. The mayor had incentivized the now-unemployed mining and farming families to come to the town by subsidizing their move and providing temporary housing. That housing prevented them from being arrested by the Silver Legion for homelessness and crimes of desperation. Many of them also received housing vouchers that got them into permanent dwellings. The initiative came with generous support from the town's local business community. Even the governor of Ohio also supported the measure.

Unfortunately, hatred of the different and foreign reigned supreme as the Silver Legion repeatedly doubled down on their conspiracy theories and genocidal rhetoric.

"Get out here, you murderers!" one of the paramilitary raged loudly outside.

"Fang, I am not joking," Masquerade told the team. "It is like their whole White Silver ideology has roots from another world."

Calamity had entered a communication spell with the whole team sans Sonnetto, who was still in a puppet state. The homunculus needed Tanya to feed her divine mana in order to maintain her personality, and hopefully, reuniting with the Germanian war vet would solve that problem. Without the divine mana of 'freedom', Sonnetto was nothing more than a machine that resembled a person — a robot.

"Don't blame me for this!" Tanya griped. "Nothing in my old essays could have caused this blood sacrifice nonsense."

A couple of days earlier, President Yockey had claimed the Aztecs living in the Unified States were not only colluding with the rebels in the occupied Aztec Empire but snatching white kids to sacrifice to their gods. The HH had taken this conspiracy theory seriously and responded by bombing temples, demanding answers from city officials, and storming the streets in Autumn's Meadow. Schools, hospitals, and entire neighborhoods had been evacuated to protect the people from the bloodthirsty paramilitary grunts.

The Brown Berets and Calamity had volunteered to defend their communities that couldn't get out in time like the two upstairs as the HH stormed the streets. Brown Berets were mostly Chicano people who had created their own paramilitary organization to resist the violence against their communities from the legionist administration and their goons. Right now, fighting off this many HH grunts would be a death sentence for the Brown Berets, and Calamity was still very limited in what she was allowed to do as a magical Interpol officer. The hope was that the Legion wouldn't find them before reinforcements arrived.

A young woman with the signature beret on her head noticed a Legionist passerby at the window. Luckily, the Legionist hadn't seen them in their hiding spots.

"This cannot be real," Masquerade commented, completely dumbfounded. "If you had told me that this much destruction was being wrought just because the President had spread a baseless rumor about migrants doing human sacrifices, I would have told you it was all bollocks and not believed you."

"It is that they don't live in reality anymore that makes this possible," Tanya stated demurely. "Pulitzer once told Vicky that he can't even print facts anymore. The consumers of his yellow journalism won't believe it. Not only will they demand the facts be redacted and replaced with unhinged conspiracy theories, but they will declare the news outlet communist. Those 'journalists' who report the truth get torn to shreds."

'You know you live in a pre-legionist society when everything the ruling coalition believes is false,' Richard Diamond had written in his Silver-Diamond Manifesto. 'You know you live in a Legionist society when large swaths of people so strongly desire to live in unreality that they lash out at any attempt to take them out of it.'

For the Tejan Sharpshooter, what had terrified her and her family about the Hoarding Horde was that they absolutely adored the poster child of anti-unionism, Henry Phord, who plowed his immense wealth towards spreading hate and ignorance through various papers and books like The International Heartist: The World's Foremost Problem. As the title of that book suggested, central to his ideology was that Heartists and international institutions were the source of everything evil in the world. His conspiracy theories had also gained significant ground in Germania. (2)
While the rest of MI15 chatted, Calamity had to stay quiet because a single noise could alert the Legionists right outside, she feared. Her teammates knew that. The gunslinger would just cut the spell and stop listening to them if action broke out. For now, listening to them kept her nerves in check.

Then came the loud thumping at the door as the Legionists tried to break inside. They had erected a barricade. Had a mage been knocking at the door, then they would have already broken through.

"We know you filthy monsters are inside," the Silver Legion grunt shouted without a hint of irony.

You know you live in a Legionist society when the weakest and least capable of defending themselves are declared to be the most dangerous and evil. In contrast, those who are actually the most powerful and evil are sanctified.

"Captain M, they are not mages." Calamity reported as she moved. "What is my clearance?".

Masquerade kept hesitating despite all the progress he had made. The gunslinger only practically had access to lethal force. The post-Great-War consensus had been that mages were not allowed to use violence against non-mages unless permitted by the proper authorities. The pacifism-inclined thespian who became an illusionist for a reason had to make a decision fast.

Then came the sound of someone climbing a ladder.

"They are going for the attic window!" Calamity shouted and started hustling to the place where the vulnerable civilians hid.

She pulled down the attic door.

"Down now!" she commanded. "M, what is my clearance? Now, please!"

"C Clearance."

"So, you are asking me to tussle with Legionists with bare fists?"

Calamity couldn't use most spells modern mages could use and had severely limited options. She specialized in taking down mages, not non-mages.

Then, a tremendous amount of mana flowed into her, and the sclera of her eyes went black.

'I don't know what I am doing, but I hope this helps, Officer Calamity.'

That thought sounded like Calamity's own, but it couldn't have been.

'It's me, Tanya.'

'Ta~~mity?'

Calamity Tamantha held her head as markings appeared all over her skin, granting her access to a whole host of new spells she usually didn't have.

So much information flowed into the body that used to belong to Calamity alone. Tamantha now understood how pension plans and corporate sub-ledgers worked, or one could say she now knew how to make a Colt .45 shoot three times in quick succession. The fusion of Tanya and Calamity's minds had been a complete accident based on the former's memories. The Germanian war vet had wanted just to send some of her power through her Purpose divinity connection with Calamity but had overshot it and somehow combined them into one individual.

There was no time to think about the countless existential questions running through this fusion's mind. Newly empowered, Tamantha took point. She hoped that she could at least be a bullet sponge for the non-mages at her flank who would have to do the likely necessary lethal violence she legally couldn't do even for self-defense under her current clearance.

Now I see-sawed into being too darn powerful.

"Tanya just disappeared!"

"She fused with her…me, long story. Explain later, boss."

The fused mage climbed the stairs after all the civies got downstairs. When Tamantha got up there, she saw Akira defending herself the best she could with her pacifistic martial arts called Aikido. The revolutionary used her martial techniques to redirect her opponents' attacks to neutralize the force. While it did not harm the murderous HH, it bought time for the families to escape.

Tamantha summoned a bubble with Tanya's new water magic around herself and the two armed paramilitary volunteers. They took out intruders as they filed through the window, but the Brown Berets got caught reloading simultaneously when one man timed his entrance into the building accordingly.

"Surrender or the Zhangzi rat gets it," the HH officer screamed as he jumped through the window and pulled out his gun to shoot Akira. The volunteer forces didn't have time to react. The man might have been an idiot to enter the building when a forcefield protected the Berets, but he was committed to killing at least the Angel.

Bang!

Tamantha had quickly drawn her pistol and shot him before he could even react. It was a precarious maneuver, but with Calamity's knowledge and Tanya's acceleration spell, it was possible to pull off.

"Calamity, you didn't…."

"I did what I had to. Please trust me on this, sir."

Separately, neither half of Tamantha would have made the shot. Tanya was too afraid of potentially taking career-ending actions, and Calamity would not hesitate with a hostage present. Together, Tamantha could take that shot by overcoming the impediment to action contained in each half of themselves.

"Akira, you look like your lunch is on the way out. You gonna be okay?"

"I will be fine, Ms. Calamity. Just shaken."

The Angel was a hyper empath with misophonia. In combat, she was a liability because not only did violence result in her vicariously feeling pain acutely, but loud noises caused her sensory overload.

Tamantha kicked the ladder down before more of the Hoarding Horde could climb up.

"What are we gonna do, Akira? This location is compromised."

Tamantha also didn't want to get used to killing non-mages. That included this Legion horde stuck in a delusion in which they saw themselves as the real victims and marginal groups as somehow the evil orchestraters of this horror show. The horde sadly exemplified how Legionism hurt everyone and twisted them into an Us versus Them struggle. That didn't absolve the horde of their guilt, from which they mentally sprinted away at every possible chance by delving deeper into their preferred unreality.

Still, Tamantha refused to forget the personhood in everyone because when we do, we can see more clearly our own moral failings. To see only a monster is to refuse to see how we all have bits and bobs in our brains that can make us turn into a person just like the HH or Yockey. Our nature enables evil, so we must resolutely educate ourselves in history and love.

"Can you—" the rattled woman began but stopped to start ventilating in stress.

"Steady now, dearie," the fusion said as she kept guard of the window. "Deep breaths. I think that will hold them."

What had just happened must have hit Akira completely. That could happen as adrenaline decreased and one started processing. Recruits all struggled with it, but Akira was a person who would never get used to it.

That was fine. What made her weaker in some areas made her fantastic in others. While Tanya's low empathy allowed her to think logically in high-intensity situations quickly, Akira's high empathy allowed her to comprehend and synthesize how others felt into a story that spoke to their collective dream.

Peaking out the attic window, Tamantha could see the HH retreating for some reason as their leaders waved them off. Something was going to happen.

The fusion turned to Akira, who had calmed down and checked in with her fellow elf-like agents of Tanechka's revolutionary mage corp.

"It will be ten more minutes before reinforcements arrive," Akira confirmed. "However, we have legionist mages on the way so they can carpet bomb the approach revolutionary forces with explosive formulas. Do you think you can handle them before you get in range?"

"Captain, is my clearance still C?" Tamantha called in the MI15 channel.

"Agent Calamity, I am escalating this to clearance B. Stop those mages."

Clearance A was nearly impossible to get and usually required League of Nations pre-approval, but B was very workable. It gave Tamantha a lot more room to work with in using force to mitigate the HH's violence as well.

In defending the innocent, like here in Autumn's Meadow, sometimes regrettable things like lethal violence became necessary. Behind her bubble, with Calamity's rifle in hand and Tanya's mana supply, the fusion readied to defend against the Legionist mages. Tamantha extended the range of her weapon and vision and locked sights on the approaching mages.

Suddenly, eleven more guiding formulas appeared in tandem. Tamantha could feel the mana of her allies, allowing her to multiply her firepower. One shot became twelve, taking out entire squads of enemy mages per pull of the trigger. The sky filled with a multi-colored death as the various hues of her comrades' mana formed rainbows that arced and swerved after their targets before splitting after the mages engaging in evasive maneuvers.

After she eliminated a battalion, the enemy mages realized they were dealing with a divine-classed mage and retreated. Tamantha kept her sights on them as they got out of her weapon's extended range. There wasn't much she could do if they tried to fly around her, as her flight speed was still abysmal. Only a few new spells had become available to her, like the bubble one.

Tanya separated from Calamity at that point, needing to take care of things on her end.

"What was that?!" the gunslinger shouted. Now, she was herself again.

"Fusion…," Tanya replied.

"I know that, but I didn't exist! Okay, partner, what is my name really quickly?"

"Calamity, lass," Masquerade answered. "What is wrong?"

"I kept a lot of her memories," the tall Tejan replied. "They are hard to distinguish from my own."

"Same," Tanya admitted.

"You have to be careful with that. I can recall how our minds slowly shared more and more with each other. If you do that too long, we'll be more hitched together than a two-head cyclops."

"You still remember your sister's middle name?" Tanya inquired.

"Yeah. I do. Do you still remember the nuns walking you to get tested for magic?" Calamity had to ask. So many of Tanya's memories revealed horrifying things about the girl's life and past life.

"Yes," the otherworlder answered. "At least we don't seem to be losing pieces of ourselves."

That made Calamity remember something from Tanya's life.

"You used the Type-95 despite knowing it overwrote your personality and made you forget things!"

"It was necessary to keep my team alive."

"What are you smoking?! You did not have to do that! You had other options than sacrificing pieces of your soul to the war effort, the Mages of Interpol, or your sense of professional responsibility."

"Time out, please," Masquerade interjected. "While it is nice that Tanya is back in the house with us again, I have no idea what you are talking about."

Calamity pinched the bridge of her nose. "Tanya has been sacrificing her soul for decades by using a cursed computation orb?"

"Blimey!"

"Tanya, why?" Fang Shiyu wondered. He was still on the call with everyone else.

"Okay, please understand that the item is mind-warping. I may not have…had the best judgment in using it."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I didn't think anyone would believe me. Also... The Empire would not have let me stop using it, more so when it was clear we were losing the war. Then… you get used to not telling people things. It is a lot easier now. Back then, it was absolutely terrifying. I thought I would get thrown into some insane asylum or get experimented upon."

"Tanya…"

Much hugging could be heard on the other side of the communication spell in Freedom's Egg. Calamity had to wipe her own eyes because Tanya had had it extraordinarily rough. Her life had been an almost constant stream of suffering and dysregulation. So much could have been made better had her secrets not been so unbelievable.

When this is all over, I am going to do what I can for Tanya, Calamity thought to herself. She needs so much love that it is unbelievable.

At least they knew what the curse of her Purpose divinity was — becoming a fusion with a person slowly and steadily made the differences between the minds of two individuals disappear until they were essentially one person. One lost their individuality to be together in solidarity in this duality. It really put into perspective how much suffering having multiple divinities caused their holders.

Mary Canary, I hope we can convince you to let go of the two extra ones you have. I hate seeing you in so much pain due to whatever they are doing to you.

Calamity then heard the Revolutionary Army and United Front approach as they sang Whirlwind of Danger, calling upon people to join their army as they approached the capital.

Fang Shiyu's mother, Miu Tsui-fa, ran up to Calamity and Akira. While most of the Zhangzi forces stayed in their country defending against another Akinese invasion with the Federation backing them up, the Tejan's teammate Fang Shiyu and his family had come to the Unified States to support the revolution. Knocking the Unified States out would cut the Akitsuhima Dominion off from their powerful ally.

"I am so glad you are safe," the newcomer expressed with a beaming smile.

"Where's Fang?" Calamity inquired, temporarily putting aside her feelings about Tanya's situation to focus on the mission ahead.

"Shiyu had to run ahead. The people in Horton County needed help as soon as possible."

Looking around them, the Tejan noticed the Hoarding Horde had all fled for the hills and were nowhere in sight.

"It seems the enemy is gone. We should be safe to—"

BANG!

Calamity instinctually dropped to the ground only to watch Demiguichi Akira's lifeless body stagger and collapse onto the lawn. Then, the Angel's entire body disintegrated, leaving only her bloodied archery uniform behind.

"Anti-Mage bullets!" Calamity yelled, "Everyone, take cover!"

Yet, nothing more happened. They couldn't even find any Silver Legion snipers in the area, and they suspected whoever they were, they must have fled.

Akira did not deserve to die like that. If I find who did this….

Calamity hoped her heart was wrong about who was behind this assassination.

---

Horton County and then to Chicago - 6th of December, 1952



Fang had heard about the death of Akira, and he ran to the high school in Horton County as quickly as he could. There, he found himself in the middle of a confrontation between protestors and the Silver Legion's Enforcers. He soon found himself gritting his teeth as Water shot at him with a high-pressure fire hose during a snowy day, actually hurting despite his mana body. He had jumped in front of the blast to protect the children behind him. One man had done the same. His clothes ripped away, and his flesh was lacerated by the sheer force the fire hose could unleash.
The Enforcers had swarmed Horton County not only to assist the Hoard Horde in purifying the school but to crack down on a nonviolent protest. The HH hunted for evidence of their bizarre conspiracy theories. High school students in the Black Revolution had taken to the streets to protest nonviolently.

Horrifyingly, the sight of unarmed students somehow provoked the Enforcers to unleash their high-pressure firehoses on the children on this cold winter day. While Fang had thrown himself before one of the hoses, he was not the real hero there. Non-mages lay on the ground, bloodied and beaten by the Enforcers. The elements and the non-magical tools of the Enforcers in Horton County threaten the protestors far more than they did Fang.

Pushing through the hose water by increasing his expenditure of ki, the martial artist ran up to the Enforcer. The violent racist yelped in fear as he didn't expect to deal with a mage. Fang shoved the hose into the air and then punched the firefighter to knock him out. Unlike the Calamity Amb, the martial artist could intervene easily between non-mages.

"We are approaching your location," Calamity called out. "Be on the lookout for an enemy sniper. They are taking out people in our movement. I am keeping your mother safe."

A few mage Enforcers rushed onto the scene and aimed to fire optical formulae at Fang. The martial artists accelerated his mind and reflexes, entering bullet time. He put his right middle and index fingers on his forehead, and suddenly, a bunch of afterimages appeared as he used a new technique he had learned. It wasn't as versatile as actual illusions. The images and he sprinted the confused and overwhelmed mages.

Fang deftly dodged the few shots that went his direction in his high-mana expenditure superspeed state. While his mana stores had grown over the last two years, he could not hold this state for more than a minute before mana exhaustion took him out. That was plenty to eliminate these enforcers.

Then, a bunch of vehicles entered the scene and formed a barricade. The Silver Legion planned to block the advancement of the approaching Revolutionary Army as they delayed as much as they could until Tanya deployed to assist them. At least, that was what they thought would happen. They had no idea that their goddess had joined the revolutionary's side, and soon, the seat of government in Chicago would be theirs.

It seemed that the enemy mages had no issue hurting children, so Fang had to take drastic measures to protect them. He pulled his mana into a ball in his hands, and then once it was the size of a football, he threw it. His arm motions guided the sphere of mana as it bashed into the mages and their vehicle-based barricade. The mana ball could only break a few barriers before running out of power.

Fang had overestimated how effective his new technique would be in real conditions on what had effectively become a battlefield. As the Enforcers raised their weapons, the martial artist desperately went back into his accelerated state. Mana's exhaustion would hit him soon.

Suddenly, Tanya's mana flowed into him far faster.

"Don't overdo it like you did with Calamity," He thought to himself about his friend.

"I won't."

He frowned at hearing a voice in his head that he hoped was Tanya's. It didn't sound any different than his normal mental voice, which made it spooky.

This time, instead of making a mana ball, he used the extreme amounts of mana available to him to form a disc attack. Cultivators rarely used these at his level because they were far too draining, but Tanya effectively pushed him up several ranks of cultivation temporarily. He tossed the disc, which could easily cut through barriers and people simultaneously. These were mages about to kill non-mages, children. It was Fang's obligation as an Interpol Officer to prevent that from happening. Mage lives were not more or less valuable than non-mages, but with power came the need to hold it accountable—the more power, the more accountable it needed to be.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Fang dodged two of the enemies' attacks that got out before they got cut down, but the third was an explosion formula. His legs moved with lightning speed as he grabbed each civilian in the range of the blast area and took them to safety. Even in bullet time, he couldn't hesitate a moment, or innocent lives would be lost.

As he dropped down the last person and it became clear that the coast was clear, Tanya must have tightened the tap of mana flow between him and his teammates because he felt exhaustion hit him. Fang would not fall unconscious. He had enough mana left to do a bit more fighting. It was his body that was strained.

"How are you?" Mae Shpigel called out as she rushed towards him with the Angel Kvetoslava Narcassus at her side.

Narcassus was a medical doctor who was doing her best to help the victims of the Silver Legion and the wounded in battle, along with her team of emergency personnel and volunteers. The elf-like communist got to starting triage and providing care.

Shpigel focused on Fang at the mage, who had just taken out a dozen mages, and the power of a superweapon was flowing through him.

"I will be okay," he answered Shpigel with a forced smile.

The war was hell, and now he has to see it in all its gruesomeness. Fascism was even more terrifying. The emaciated bodies of prisoners sat dying, locked in their cells. The prison wardens at Richard Diamond's command enacted a 'scorched earth' strategy of starving their prisoners to death before the Revolutionary Army could free them like the Union soldiers did during the Civil War. They had to stop to distribute emergency food supplies to the prisoners.

As Fang rested, one of the women's battalion approached, singing another one of their countless songs of solidarity. As they entered towns and cities, the songs were to encourage people who could volunteer and join them. It had been operational security that the date of the revolution had been kept from the general population, and songs played a role in disseminating coded information. People learned to listen to the songs that would tell them when to act.

This song — Bread and Roses — had a defiant but sad undertone that caught Fang off guard.

"What is it about?" Fang inquired in Russy. He didn't know Albish, but Mae Shpigel knew the language and assisted him with interpreting.

"It is based on a poem about the Lawrence Textile Strike," Mae Shpigel explained. "Many of them were women brought over as contract laborers from the Francois Republic and Norden, but at least fourteen nationalities speaking twenty-five different languages were present. The women were not seen as good enough for citizenship or the right to vote but good enough to spend their lives toiling away at the looms. Most of them did not live past the age of twenty-six, and they did not make enough to support their families. This song commemorates the women's struggle and those who died throughout the ages and during the strike. The song asks not only for bread but also roses because the heart starves as much as the body."

In short, it was a song of mourning, carrying the torch of an ancient struggle and a cry for the things that make life possible and meaningful. As Sonnetto would have told Fang, the lessons repeat themselves over and over. These high schoolers, those women decades ago, and his people in Zhangzi all had the same throughline of a call for dignity and equality. They did not want more than their oppressors but a life worth living. The difference was his people had taken the guns left behind by the Akinese and decided that the only way they would be free was if they made a new government of their own.

He looked around some more. Another thing that bothered him a lot. Fang decided to ask Shpigel about it.

"Why are there so few young children?" he inquired. He had seen plenty of high schoolers during their organizing in the Unified States but very few large families or toddlers.

"Many families of color, immigrant or otherwise, were forced or tricked into getting sterilizations, using the pretense of being given charitable medical care. We estimate that the Silver Legion has already sterilized half of American Indian women, and in California, Zhangzi and Aztecs are often sterilized without their knowledge or consent. (3)"

Fang sighed. Back in Germania, he heard the fascists drew lots of inspiration from the Unified States' eugenics practices. (3) The Revolutionary Army could not move fast enough to bring down the Silver Legion before they could hurt more people or inspire more nations to copy their tactics.

Or make them even worse.

"Okay, I have to focus on work now. May I ask more questions when we move out?"

"Sure, Mr. Fang."

"Thank you, Mrs. Shpigel."

The man drank some water and continued on his patrol. He didn't have time to think about any of this because he needed to keep an eye out for more danger, particularly that sniper. Since the assassin had killed Demiguichi Akira, MI15 suspected that Dr. Narcassus would be the next target. Both were Angels, after all.

So was my mother.

Narcassus was the Night Witch who almost killed Calamity during their Albish Museum case but survived because Interpol doesn't kill unconscious or surrendering mages. Fang watched her decide who could be saved and who was a lost cause based on the available resources and minimizing casualties. The Silver Legion had not responded to non-violent civil disobedience in kind, and the protesters had suffered grievous injuries. They did not know that an army from the United Front alliance would be rolling through.

Praxis of Civil Disobedience came from a tradition of deeply spiritual and nonviolent protest, according to Mae Shpigel. Tracing the thread of this ancient tradition back just a century ago, one could find the transcendentalist Ralph Waldeau Thoreau. The Unified States had imprisoned him for protesting its war of conquest against the Aztec Empire in the nineteenth century. A century later, Thoreau's Civil Disobedience inspired Gandhi, who went on to develop a non-materialist version of socialism and the praxis of universal uplift. Continuing back up the thread, one would find Gandhi's actions and beliefs would inspire the religious and nonviolent factions of the civil rights movement in the Unified States, including democratic socialists like Martin Bishop, who strove to abolish poverty and end capitalism as a central part of achieving equality.

Once the army had secured the town and gotten as many volunteers as they could arm, they headed toward Chicago. Fang called on Dr. Kvetoslava Narcassus and Mae Shpigel to join him on a tank descant. He wanted to keep close to the Angel in case the enemy sniper was hiding among the irregular forces in the army. He had more questions for Mrs. Shpigel.

"What do you think of the communists?" Fang Shiyu inquired of Shpigel.

"That is a hard question to answer, given there are so many tendencies," she replied with grim mirth, given their situation.

"What about you? Aren't you one of them?"

"No, I am neither a communist nor an anti-communist."

"What would you call yourself, then?" he followed up. A lot of this political stuff was beyond him, but Fang figured he really needed to know it. His country was going through a massive transformation. He wanted to understand what to expect.

"A Marksist humanist," she stated clearly. "I think that when we don't center people in our movements but just the material outcomes, we lose sight of the harm we do to achieve our ends."

"Instrumental rationality?"

"Precisely," Shpigel replied morosely. "When Leon Brotsky was exiled for his dissent, the party threw me downstairs. They lost sight of everything but the ends they wished to achieve and gave themselves an unlimited license to hurt those who threatened their vision."

"The vanguard party in my country is seizing power and doing something called 'Bolshevization'," Fang stated with some worry. "Do you think it will work out?"

"It could, or it could end up just like with the Old Federation with a cult of personality around one man." She turned to face the city of Chicago, where they would soon head towards after the army handled securing the area for the Revolutionary forces. "Like kings, you have great kings, but you can also have cruel ones. The problem is that without force, you can't hold the king accountable."

Fang frowned. Her words worried him.

"I have my own opinion," Dr. Narcassus stated. "I think that accountability is the key concept here. As someone who participated in the Second Revolution, holding people accountable was very much at the forefront of my mind. Obviously, forcibly overthrowing your government over and over again is not the right way."

"Then what is?" the man pressed.

"It is how you institutionalize accountability. Think about it — what do sexism, racism, monarchy, colonization, and dictators all have in common?"

He shrugged. These were not topics he understood all that well. He didn't realize he had been sexist or chauvinist until Tanya had addressed his behavior to him in a one-on-one meeting.

"They all have an unaccountable superior who exercises power on people below him with varying degrees of impunity. I call this 'upward accountability' because those below are accountable to those above them. This can and often does result in authoritarian and abusive behavior because the powerful don't have checks on that power. The abused has no formal way of stopping the abuser, who is often afforded the right to punish their inferiors. The sexists expect women to be lesser and accountable to their husbands and fathers. The monarch and the dictator hold his subjects accountable to his whims but exercise his power upon them as he pleases, punishing any resistance."

"And the employer?"

"A similar dynamic but much better than feudal and fascist relationships. The employer is unelected and imposes more expectations upon his employees than his employees can on him. The employer picks his employees, but employees can't oust their employer legally. With unchecked power comes varying degrees of unchecked abuses. Obviously, there are good superiors, but under the Silver Legion's 'profit over all' ideology, people are being drained of every last drop of value in their bodies."

"Then what is the solution?"

"Mixtures of downward accountability and mutual accountability depending on the context. Downward is when the powerful are made accountable to the people they wield power upon through various mechanisms that investigate, punish, and replace people who misuse the power given to them, like through democracy and term limits. Mutual accountability is when people hold each other accountable like a romantic relationship."

Fang thought about this. "I still don't see how we would implement such a thing in practice. Like how would a general of an army work if they were constantly questioned and challenged by those below them?"

"Good question, but alas, I don't have all the answers. Some communists deal away with military ranks for that reason, but it is a complicated political question, and I am a medical doctor."

Mae Shpigel listened to their exchange with curiosity the whole time. "A lot of this cannot really be figured out until actually in the position to make decisions in a real situation. I am sure the Americans will figure something out that will help us keep those in charge—"

BANG!

Fang had barely noticed the sniper before they shot. However, they were not aiming at Narcassus but Shpigel. He went into his accelerated state and tackled her midsentence.

The bullet impacted his left forearm, causing him to scream in pain. Despite some bruises, Shpigel was safe at least.

Fang, not so much. His hand fell off as his left arm started to disintegrate.

Phzzt

"Hold out your arm!" Narcassus shouted as she flew off the tank to meet them on the ground next to the road with a mage blade at the ready. He did as she told him.

Slice

His left arm fell off and disappeared before it hit the ground. Fang started to faint from blood loss as the doctor got to work saving his life. Had she not cut off his arm, whatever magic was in that bullet would have destroyed the rest of his body had the spell been allowed to keep spreading.

Calamity flew over to them and held overwatch, guarding them all.

"I think I know who the sniper is," the Tejan sharpshooter claimed on the Revolutionary Army's channel. "Only one person would use anti-biological rounds this potent."

She explained her hypothesis as the mages in the revolutionary forces started to sweep the area for the culprit before they could strike again.

---

Silver House Lawn

A few hours later

I walked with a contingent of Silver Legion mages guarding me.

"Goddess, are you well?" one of the mages inquired.

"Just peachy, thanks."

I had to pretend to be Victoria Truman for a little longer so I could reunite with Sonnetto. When she was safe, I would then fly to the city and clear the way for the revolutionary army.

I followed the Legion guards to the balcony as more zealots genuflected to me along the way. It took willpower not to keep my rage and discomfort to myself. I did not want to wear a mask like I had done for two decades. In my opinion, worship was a fundamentally wrong imposition to place upon a person. While individuals could worship whoever they wanted, asking people to worship you was what was wrong. No one deserved worship, especially if they demanded it. In fact, any being that demanded worship automatically didn't deserve any as they were far too narcissistic—instead, those who demanded worship in exchange for not suffering deserved the greatest contempt.

At the balcony, I saw her. I forgot about all those people calling on me to bless them.

My expression then turned into a glare as I noticed the man next to her — Emperor Cassander. He was the one who had killed her and her son. He had the gull to take advantage of her puppet-like state without me to feed her mana to make her his wife and declare himself Emperor of Persia.

I reached the railing and dismissed the mages at my side.

"You look splend—"

"Be quiet."

Cassander became aghast.

Outside the balcony were those zealots who offered their mana to the Goddess of Destiny Manifest, but that person did not exist.

"People, I have something I must confess," I began, keeping up my act a bit longer. "Your Goddess is an atheist."

Ironically, I think most gods are atheists since they don't believe they have a creator, but I mean a being that deserves worship.

I let those words sink in. People were understandably confused.

"I am not some unalloyed whatever you think I am. Nor am I just some blonde, blue-eyed germanian to foist your disgusting fascist capitalist ideology upon."

People started getting mad. They didn't like knowing how I really was. They wanted a White Silver, who was this strategic genius who proved that their belief about a hierarchy of beings was correct.

"Who I really am is the person who loves this amazing and beautiful woman right here."

I turned to the Sonnetto, who watched all of this passively, but I hoped, with my mana, she would come back. My hands took hers into mine, and I lifted them to my face as I stared into her crimson eyes. Then I put my forehead to hers as I transmitted more mana into her.

I could feel a spark there, hanging on for dear life inside her body. I hoped it would be enough to bring her back.

BANG!

A shot went off, interrupting my thoughts.

Time froze as I tried to figure out what to do—an enchanted bullet headed straight for me. From what Calamity described, it certainly would kill me. I had no idea how the assassin had even gotten in range to shoot me or was going to come after me.

This wasn't fair. I did nothing wrong. I didn't deserve to die like this. Not now. Not here.

Why can't I have anything? Why can't I have peace? Why do happiness and peace slip from my fingers every single time?

If I die, I am pretty sure I am not coming back like the other mandates. Being X made it very clear this would be my last life.

I wasted my first one chasing after a career that made everyone suffer. People hated me, and I didn't care. Now I know how foolish I was, and I don't even get to take the least number of steps towards doing all of these things that will bring me the peace I want. Like many people around me throughout my life, I want to fall in love and start a family. Being X would even taunt me with dreams about what could have been had I understood what love was back during the war.

As I futilely tried to move out of the way, a terrifying miracle occurred. Sonnetto woke up and shoved me out of the way.

The bullet struck her instead. Her regeneration couldn't counteract the much faster anti-biological spell that the shooter had used.

No!

This wasn't going to be how it ended.

In order to save her, I would have to sacrifice my individuality.

"May I?"

"I never want us to part again. Please, before it is too late."

Silver waves formed around us as we fused. Her personality and mine became one. Since Sonnetto no longer had a body, the spell thankfully fizzled out. In our union, Sonnetto and I were utterly destroyed and made new again. The world faded away for a moment.

---

Sonata's Soulscape

"Freedom?" The Devil Doll began with biting cynicism in her voice. "The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it's profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way, and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theater."

She looked like a blonde young Tanya in the form of a doll with devil horns at the top of her head and red crystal eyes.

"Why can't... Why can't people decide how to live their own lives?" The cat plushie asked. "Isn't our existence as individuals the least we should be able to control?"

The cat plushie was white and had blue buttons for eyes. It kind of looked like Tanya, too, as if Tanya were a grumpy cat. Why was it so familiar-looking?

"The moment people lose the capacity to think, to question, that they just become animals headed to the slaughter without resisting... they stop being people, they lose what makes them human," the Devil Doll answered. "Then again, I am not a human, so what do I know?"

"Some people say there is a fine line between the brilliant and the insane, but I feel like it's actually fairly easy to tell them apart, with hindsight," an Akinese woman added. "Of course, that doesn't help you in the present, so if you really want to know if someone is insane or a genius, just talk to them and decide by yourself. You may make a mistake, but sometimes that's better than being warped with indecision. To live is to make choices. After all, the moment you can't make any choice is the moment you stop living."

The woman, too, looked like Tanya but had blonde fox ears at the top of her head and nine blonde, fluffy fox tails behind her.

"So tell me, little doll, are you free?" The Devil Doll interrogated what must have been Sonneto.

The Devil then tied the homunculus in puppet strings, only for the cat plushie to cut them with surprisingly sharp claws, and then Sonneto fell into a black void only for the fox woman, the... kitsune, to catch her.

"Who is the real Tanya?" The Akinese kitsune inquired with a smile. "Have you decided yet?"

"None of you are the real Tanya, but all of you are part of her. "

"Good, you are learning." The cat plushie said. "Be thankful we locked Tanya's pain away, for you are not ready for her yet. Now, wake up and pamper Tanya. We deserve it!"

I woke up only a moment after I fell unconscious. I was Sonneto, I was Tanya, I was… Sonata.

---

Silver House Lawn

Ramona Mercer frowned. Empress Roxanne had blocked her shot, and then something bizarre happened. That was her third shot.

The first one was for the revisionist Demiguichi Akira. She had corrupted the Zhangzi revolution by persuading the vanguardists there to incorporate a 'one country, two systems' and multiple parties into their new republic. Revisionism not only distorted Marksism with capitulations with the ruling class but would result in a kind of state-run capitalism like what the Silver Legion had. While Ramona could tolerate Markism-Levinism-Tanechkism (MLT), Demiguichism needed to stop spreading.

As Ramona's vanguard would say, 'Death to the Traitors', and that included all revisionists.

The second enchanted bullet would be for Mae Shpigel. She had rejected dialectical materialism for something she called Marksist Humanism that synthesized Hegel and Marks. Like the current leader of the Federation, Shpigel viciously criticized the Old Federation, claiming that it 'rest[ed] on the mainspring of capitalism — paying the worker the minimum and extracting from him the maximum.' (2) This distortion led countless revolutionaries to believe that Marksist-Levinist governments were exploitative of the working class and the party was somehow a kind of ruling class. Ramona had tried to eliminate her before she embedded herself deeper into the Founders' Party and moved the scale of power further into World Federationism.

The third bullet was for White Silver. The arrogant, religious fanatic had declared herself a goddess and deviously tricked the people into thinking that her conduit powers were divine when that power really came from her duped followers. More importantly, no one had caused more devastation than this goddess wannabe. She had written the White Silver Creed that had persuaded so many people that being powerless was freedom and that unfettered corporate greed would somehow benefit the poor people in the long run when people were dying now and history proved otherwise. Even worse, Victoria Truman's floods and armies had killed countless Aztecs in the genocidal war in the south.

'No gods, no masters,' as the anarchists would say, and likewise, to be free, there had to be no White Silver who wanted people to worship her.

Ramona took out her only spare enchanted bullet and cocked her gun, but before she could fire, her old friend Amber Canary walked in front of the sniper and blocked Ramona's shot with her body.

"Why?" the Tejan demanded.

The woman must have snuck up on Ramona while she focused on her target. Her new height had certainly been surprising to see up close.

"For the future of my homeland," the Orthodox sniper answered.

"Tanya and Sonnetto are my family."

"I don't know who those people are, but Victoria Truman killed hundreds of thousands of people!" Ramona roared. "She has these people under her spell."

"Look at them, though!" Calamity shouted back, gesturing to the crowd.

The reality was that the Silver Legion screamed about a demon and demanded that the real goddess end this farce.

"Drop your gun, Ramona," her friend repeated.

She lowered her gun but did not drop it.

"She is a fascist—"

"She is practically two lesbians from Berun in a magical trench coat," Amber interjected, clearly holding back her rage and frustration. "I promise you neither Tanya nor Sonnetto wants to be associated with these people."

"You know that homosexuals have fascist tendencies, Amb."

Dzhugashvili and Moscva had stated this during the Old Federation days. It was why the CPUSA, who were not fans of the post-coup government, kicked out from the party the founder of the Mattachine Society, Harry Hay.

Amber looked absolutely dumbfounded.

"Ramona, it takes two seconds of thinking to know that the legionists and fascists ain't too fond of people like my friend over there," the American war vet countered. "She is taking them out right now. She is on the side of justice. You clearly aren't right now. So drop your gun. Don't make me ask again. I don't want to kill you even though I am pissed as all hell. You really hurt a person I care about and murdered another who didn't deserve it."

Ramona dropped her gun. Not because she was actually afraid of Amber actually hurt her. She knew the moral heart of her friend, which beat with all the blood that had been spilled over the ages and to the rhythm of history in all its guilts.

No, it was those idealistic eyes. Those damnable idealistic eyes begged her to show mercy to an imperialist dog like White Silver. It was always the moralizers who broke the will of revolutionaries—begging for nonviolence when that didn't work—calling for mercy when the person in question was not deserving of it. White Silver really didn't deserve any mercy, in Ramona's opinion.

Amber Canary picked up Ramona's rifle without dropping eye contact. The Tejan Sharpshooter was the only person in the world who could stop her with anything less than outgunning her, and Ramona did not know what to think about that. Was it wrong to have hesitated like that? Was it because Amber's eyes had become a mirror that made Ramona condemn herself? Or was it because she trusted her old friend's judgment?

Life had neither simple answers nor easy solutions to the problems that plagued Ramona and the people she fought for. She would just have to keep moving forward even while her loved one had her locked up. Would the other factions of the revolution understand her actions and why they were necessary, or would they group her with the other fascists like Damien had?

Calamity started talking to her team via a communication spell as she kept an eye on Ramona.

"Tanya,...Okay, I will call you Sonata," the other woman said to her team. "Having experienced fusion, I get it. We need you to get to clearing the way for the revolutionary army downtown. MI15 will help cover you. Are you in good shape for that, sis?"

Ramona watched as White Silver took off from the Silver House after dealing with the genocidal Silver Legion senior mage leadership with the other MIs. If one focused, one could hear the air filled with the sound of two women madly in love with one another and an enrage wave that desired to engulf all of the Silver Legion in its wake.

Suddenly, instead of the Angel of Destiny Manifest, Ramona could see a glimpse of another woman who was also two. This Sonata had joyous purple eyes, magical hair that resembled actual waves, and four arms, two carrying Zhangzi swords and two carrying pistols. How such a person had been trapped inside Victoria Truman and Empress Roxanne baffled Ramona to no end. So many things had not yet been explained.

"You see her, huh?" Calamity asked.

"Yeah."

"Took me quite a while myself," the Tejan admitted. "But she was definitely much more closed off back then. I think a lot more people will get to know who those two really are in the future."

Ramona watched as a magical wave overtook the city of Chicago. It didn't kill anyone or affect the approaching revolutionary army. Instead, Silver Legionists started floating off the ground, being carried away to detainment centers rapidly being set up by surprised Interpol officers. A lot of people wanted to en masse kill the Silver Legionists, from their paramilitary arm to the Enforcers to all the party officials. The League of Nations and Sonata clearly did not share such sentiments, hitting a balance between excessive violence and complicit inaction. It was something only possible because they had both the power to do it and the sense of responsibility to act professionally.

"She could rule this country with that much power," Ramona commented in awe and concern.

"She won't," Calamity responded.

"Why not? Sonata could have anything she wanted. She could make the whole world conform to her whims? What is stopping her?"

"Because she has met god and discovered he was a self-obsessed asshole. She knows what it is like to be the plaything of powerful megalomaniacs. Her entire being is defined in opposition to that kind of abuse."

"What does she believe in?" Ramona inquired.

"Freedom, self-determination, a desire for peaceful work, the love of her work, the love of her family of coworkers, and a deeply felt sense of professional responsibility towards one's organization."

"A trade unionist then?"

Calamity broke out laughing and had to wipe away a tear. It had broken the tension between them when Ramona had just minutes ago tried to kill this Sonata person. The sniper definitely wasn't off the hook in Calamity's eyes, but stress and sadness tended to make the darndest things funny.

"Don't say that around her…I don't know how much her Sonnetto side will mellow out the Tanya side. She is very sensitive right now to people claiming that she believes something she very much doesn't."

Two more mages soon flew to their location as Ramona awaited her fate for the murder of Demiguichi and the attempted murder of Mae Shpigel. One was a man with green eyes and a colorful mask. The other was a well-known elf-like assassin in her iconic green suit.

"Are you Ramona?" the woman inquired with a smile that laughed at death.

The sniper kept her mouth shut. There was a time when Ramona looked up to this assassin. Then this person betrayed everyone by working with the genocidal capitalist assholes in the Albish Empire and throwing her allies to Interpol.

"She is," Calamity answered for Ramona.

"Well, you probably think I am here to exact revenge for what you did to my comrade," the assassin stated cooly.

"What do you want of me?" Ramona had to ask the green-suited Angel.

"I come here on behalf of Tanechka, and we have an offer."

"Shoot."

"Ha…well, we need you to tell your vanguard to cooperate with the Unified Front, and we want some information from you."

"What if I refuse?" Ramona retorted.

"I could have your vanguard handed over to Interpol as one option. The other is Tanechka, who is very much willing to settle things Old Federation style. If you play like it is the bad old days, expect to get hurt like it's the bad old days."

Essentially, going with the latter option meant a traitor's death. Tanechka might have overthrown the Old Federation, but that was because the leader of the Angels thought it was poorly managed, irresponsible to the conditions of the people, and had developed an aristocracy. She wasn't some idealist above using violence. If one got into the game of using violence, one had to expect to play by the rule that said 'might makes right'.

"I thought you said you weren't going to go around the rule of law?" the Albish man questioned with worry.

"We are in a country where the government had just been overthrown, for starters. Not much rule of law here. Second, I trust that she knows better than to go against Tanechka, who doesn't make idle threats, so at the end of the day, playing the rules set by Ramona here, we have not done anything wrong."

That was the rule that the ends justify the means. If you threatened someone to do the 'right' thing but didn't actually hurt them, does the end result of them doing that right thing mean the threat was not wrong?

Calamity definitely seemed concerned.

There was no guarantee that Tanechka would not just kill them anyway if she had the means to pull it off, which she might actually have. More concerningly, this standoff was far from the first rodeo for the mysterious green-suited assassin. Surrendering completely to the Tanechka felt horrible. The leader of the Angels had backed the World Federationists as a concession to the Russy Federation that saw those civic urban revolutionaries as the preferable ruling party over the Orthodox faction that largely hated Brotsky and his allies' guts.

Ramona took a deep breath and glanced at her friend Amber Canary.

"I surrender. What information do you want?"

"Simple. We know you know that you know where Richard Diamond went. Just tell us, so justice can be done."

Well, that was something they all could agree on.

---

Thanks Pinklestia101 for betareading and writing the dream sequence.

Citations:

1. Dunbar-Ortiz, Roxanne. Not "A Nation of Immigrants": Settler Colonialism, White Supremacy, and a History of Erasure and Exclusion. Beacon Press Books. 2021. Page xiv
2. Logsdon, Jonathan R. Power, Ignorance, and Anti-Semitism: Henry Ford and His War on Jews. Hanover College History Department. <https://history.hanover.edu/hhr/99/hhr99_2.html>
3. Ko, Lisa. Unwanted Sterilization and Eugenics Programs in the United States. PBS.org. 29 January, 2016. <https://www.pbs.org/independentlens/blog/unwanted-sterilization-and-eugenics-programs-in-the-united-states/>
4. Dunayevskaya, Raya. Marxism and Freedom: From 1776 to Today. Raya Dunayevskaya Memorial Foundation. Published 2000.

 

[JustRaiding195]

Neat

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

Recap: Last time in MI15, the Unified States had a second revolution, and the Silver Legion was defeated. Now Interpol chases after Richard Diamond as Sonata (Tanya x Sonnett) gets used to their new normal with a new country.

Note: This is a work of fiction with characters who have various opinions and thoughts. No one in this story is perfect or 'the voice of truth'.

---

Downtown Chicago, Unified States - 6th of December, 1952

I flew over to downtown, having defeated the Silver Legion mages at the nation's capitol with my allies' help. Most of them were located there, which was why Tanya bothered to play along with the ceremony instead of attacking right away. Lure them in with the pretense of meeting their Goddess, and blammo, a huge portion of the enemy mage forces would be squashed.

Being shot, however, was not in the plan. Tanya had hoped her team and having two mandates would be enough. Unfortunately, her plan did not survive contact with her supposed allies.

Masquerade had admonished Tanya for her vanity speech, which almost ended in both of my halves dying, but to be fair, she was dumb in love. She still was, from my perspective, the one embodying both of the lovebirds. As a member of Interpol (I definitely went through a lot of PTO), I had the responsibility to stop crimes against humanity and non-mages by mages.

On one side, I saw scenes unfold of enraged mothers and daughters getting armed as Legionists threatened them and their families, sons waking their fathers from bed, and rebels forming a line to defend their communities from the Horde and Enforcers.

On the other side, armored cars, tanks, and guns prepared to tear into any revolutionaries who came into the range of government buildings and decadent mansions around them. Silver Legion armed forces broke into homes. They interned suspected populations en masse and killed those who resisted, heedless of the cries of little children.

In the middle was Interpol, who had a job to do. The international community did not live by mob rule, but we also knew when a government had clearly crossed a line. National sovereignty had limits. These scenes had only broken out recently, yet every moment we delayed meant more civilians and many aggrieved rebels died.

If I didn't sound particularly sympathetic to the Silver Legion, it was because I wasn't. One can imagine

It was time to lay down the law in this dysregulated state.

I extended my mana through a network of relationships. MI15 connected to me, and from them, I connected to their friends, family, and allies. Like the degrees of Kevin Bacon, I tapped into the power of the whole revolution and its sympathizers. They willingly lent their mana to me at the price that I temporarily lost myself to their will. Unlike Victoria Truman, I was accountable to those who decided to give me their power by embodying their will, and vice versa, when I gave them mine. As Tanya would say, it was a relationship of fiduciary duty.

The revolutionary mana flooded the city with mana. No one got hurt, but Silver Legion started to float off the ground, and water-like mana held them aloft. Manipulating the mana, I pointed their guns toward the ground to prevent harm.

I sat in meditation in the middle of this steady vortex. I wouldn't let the revolutionaries make me kill people for them. The Silver Legion had already made me kill enough people. Richard Diamond, President Yockey, and Emperor Cassander embodied the totality of dual-self rage. I was nothing if not professional, and they will get their due soon.

The revolutionaries, the United Front, and Interpol moved through the vortex unaffected. The Silver Legion was kept carefully neutralized. They could be arrested or whatever. The important thing was that corruption would be washed away, and something new would form in its absence.

During the revolution, were there some pacified Legionists who got killed? Of course. People were pissed, and these were irregular combatants. Interpol started coordinating through my team to where I could move the surrendering Legionists into places where they could be detained before their trials. Many wanted me to be like a nuke that wiped evil off the face of the earth. My Tanya half very much wanted nothing to do with nuking places for obvious reasons.

I was far from a pacifist, but both of my halves had no desire to do violence in excess. Tanya had a distaste for irrational behavior. Sonnetto may not show her emotions in her facial expressions strongly and has a mystic's aspiration for going beyond the immediately apparent. Neither fetishized revolution or violence. For both of them, it was a means to peace and freedom to do the work they enjoyed — being an Interpol officer. They didn't even mind how much the socialists in the League of Nations held them accountable anymore.

Revolutionaries walked past where I sat. I had no idea what my silver mirror was showing them. I sat on a bench, meditating as I focused on carefully identifying threats to the revolutionaries and pacifying them with the mana. Some people walking by told me to join them. Others called on me to go to a shelter. I ignored them. When I told them to leave me alone, it was like someone couldn't hear me. It was surreal.

My soul form, hidden from the world except for those who knew the real me, had four arms and resembled Tanya's soul combined with Sonnetto's. I had four arms now. I could summon the two Zhangzi swords Emperor Zhu had given Sonnetto at will. Alchemy would be necessary to get Sonnetto's arsenal reequipped. She definitely missed her dual pistols.

I couldn't see my full appearance from my first-person perspective, and I had no reflection. I did know that I had Sonnetto's cloak that I could summon and obscure my extra pair of arms. Having two more arms also gave me more real estate for tattoos and wielding more weapons. All the new possibilities excited the weapon-fanatic Sonnetto.

One could not miss the red flags and the various flags of the socialists and communist organizations that made up the United Front. I did not know how to feel about it.

My Tanya side was a capitalist realist. Capitalism, in her opinion, was the end of history and the least bad option of all possible economic systems. As for Sonnetto, she thought that compassion for others and humility towards life's big questions were important due to her Seeker beliefs.

As their views came into harmony together, a new perspective emerged that helped distinguish my viewpoint from the Silver Legion's. Some of my thoughts were messy and confusing as they aligned two quite different perspectives, but the spirit of harmony was there.

For starters, I didn't think the value in goods and services came from the valuer (the buyer), as Edmund Burke argued. That was smacked of existentialist and absurdist nonsense, in my opinion, just like how Jean-Paul Sartre and Ayn Rand foolishly argued that freedom was a kind of nothing [Nichts] through excessive abstraction from embodied existence. The Camus-Burkean perspective of imposing subjective value on the world led to a situation where the monopolists selfishly used their power to determine value to instrumentalize labor until it was literally commodifying and killing people. These Richard Diamond types had made themselves gods in their minds.

Instead, in order to have a healthy market, we needed to return to some of the ideas of Adam Smith, who centered empathy and the laborers' contribution to value in his view of markets. Empathy, not greed or other excused vices, was the means by which two compatible desires meet and create a relationship in the world. Cooperation, partnership, and neighborliness based on this empathetic power played a foundational role in how markets formed. The Silver Legion's all-against-all Individualism ran contrary to this freedom of association that highlighted this meeting point between solidarity and individuality.

By entering the laborer's contribution into one's worldview, one also remembers to appreciate their work and value them as the ones who make life happen. Value wasn't to be imposed externally by the valuer but instead created by people-as-ends in their lives. For example, a mother isn't a biological machine one uses to get a child or reproduce the nation. Instead, they are a person who goes through a challenging but hopefully wonderfully transformational journey of bringing life into the world. We needed to separate the people from the arithmetic of the bottom lines again and treat them as ends between which markets acted as connections.

'I think you want a child,' Sonnetto commented.

'I do…,' Tanya admitted.

'Are we going to adopt or…?'

'I don't know. We aren't human. I want to have a child, and I don't know how to describe the feeling. It was something I never really thought about in my last life because it was painful to do so.'

I frowned as Tanya's emotions turned melancholic.

"We figure something out," I stated. Who knew what was possible, given our unique existence?

It was just a matter of seeing where the thread goes.

Roxanne had a child with Alexander Magnus, but the last thing Sonnetto remembered of him was that both Roxanne and the child had been poisoned to death by Emperor Cassander back in the early 40s. If Alexander II had been brought back as a homunculus, too, he would have been somewhere out there in the world.

Their permanent fusion would create a lot of logistic issues. Their pension plan included Interpol and bank accounts. It was going to be a massive headache. Tanya had a lot of enemies. Sonnetto had a whole country that was supposedly under her rule now that the Emperor had an 'accident' on the balcony at the Silver House.

'Should we talk about that?' Tanya inquired.

'Not now, dear,' Sonnetto replied.

I would have to do one thing at a time. As for taking care of a city worth of Silver Legion bozos, that would take days.

'I had better get overtime, a lot of hazard pay, and all of Sonnetto and Tanya's accumulated PTO back for this.'

'You love your work, Tanya.'

'You do, too, Sonnetto.'

'Do you know what I love more than what we do at Interpol?'

'I…I actually do.'

How unspeakably wonderful it was to know someone really loved you without any doubt or having to parse undecipherable expressions — clarity without any painful ambiguity.

Then I heard Masquerade on the communication channel.

"We found Richard Diamond. He is in Argentum."

An old smile of Tanya's from her Great War days crept on my face. As I heard the details, I tested the extent of my Solidarity mandate.

How far does this go? I thought to myself before finding a thread that led all the way to the country of the Silver River.

"Doctor Gonzalez, can you hear me?" I sent it through the line.

There was a shout of surprise on the other end.

I really need to find a way to contact people with this power without them freaking out or thinking they got a voice in their head. Pulling on the thread, I tapped Khuyana Gonzalez and her fellow Interpol Agents into my talk with MI15.

"A shame we can only contact allies this way since distracting enemies in battle would be quite effective," Tanya mused.

"Be nice," Sonneto scolded Tanya playfully. I could even picture Tanya getting a soft slap on her face and then blushing.

---

Undisclosed Safehouse, Argentum - 20th of December, 1952

Richard Diamond and his team crowded around a map. The news that the Unified States had just fallen to the revolutionaries had reached them. They needed to plan what their next couple of steps would be.

"I need some water now," Diamond demanded. It was a hot, balmy day down in the Southern Hemisphere, and the businessman had not packed accordingly, given it was December.

The tall man looked around the table as a drink was given to him by one of the servants. Of the people gathered, starting from Diamond right, there was Milton Freedman, the Silver Legion's Chief Economic advisor; Lopez Pegaso, the head of the Argentum Anticommunist Alliance (AAA) and great at cards; Henri Lollore "El Rata", the owner of almost all of the ports in Francois West Afrika and a bit stuffy; Sir Evelyn Loring, the Governor of Senya in Afrika and really knows how to do a good barbeque; Kermit Hoosevelt, the American Intelligence officer assigned to install theocratic rule throughout Persia and had a funny voice; Larry Messenger, a foreign policy advisor handling the Operation Menu and developer of realpolitik; and Claire Genault, the manager of the CIA's Civil Air Transport company and the only woman allowed at the table. All in all, it was a great group of friends to have in all the right places if you wanted to make a getaway.

Beyond the table were secretaries, servants, and, most notably, the Divinity of Time, who had been taken from South Afrika during the CIA's attempt to get as many divinities as possible after seeing what White Silver could really do. While this divinity proved to be a dud for live combat due to his inability to engage continuously with the present, his prognostication ability allowed the group gathered to foresee potential futures and avoid them. Diamond couldn't be bothered to remember the poor's name, so he had taken to calling him Oracle.

"By the time night arrives, one of you shall die," the voice emanated from the Oracle. He spoke in a language that transcended all languages and was understandable by all present. "The Heartseeker blade does not miss."

The men and women went pale. There was no way they would get out of the country before sunset. The prophecy had come too late.

"Do we have to keep him here?" Lega wondered. "I don't know if my heart can handle another revelation like that."

"Chin up," Loring advised. "We need all the information we can get. Once we gather our resources together and come up with a plan, we can rally and push out the revolutionaries."

"Okay, Milton, what are our options," Diamond pressed, trying to focus on solutions rather than dying.

He didn't deserve to die. What had he ever done wrong? According to the egoism of Andrew Ryan, self-interest was the only good one should consider, not enslaving oneself to so-called moral causes or the humanitarianism that led to serfdom. Diamond had lived a great life in accordance with his desires. People should emulate him, not treat him like a monster.

Freedman glided his middle finger across the map and stopped first at the Aloha State in the Pacific. "We could hold up with Pineapple King. We have a large naval base there and would be close to our allies in the Akitsuhima Dominion."

The Pineapple King was an Eirishman named Jame Stole of the Stole Food Company. His fruit products had become a household name across the world, and his company had an astronomical 45% of the global market share for bananas. It sure helped him get a well-deserved headstart on the rest of the market to have the Unified States kick out the Alohan Queen and put him in charge of that country. One could just do business so much more efficiently when their corporation ran the country.

"Boy, what happens if we go to Aloha?" Diamond inquired, curious if visiting the Pineapple King would prove fruitful.

The South Afrikan man's eyes opened, light emanating from them.

"A wave will wash away the ships in the harbor of pearls. The sailors will drift into the hands of the world. The men in kinky boots will move to the Eastern Sea, and the sun will set."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"The Sun — the Akitsuhima Dominion perhaps?"

"Well, obviously, none of that sounds promising. White Silver obviously will crush the harbor."

Diamond rubbed his chin. "Her power won't last much longer. Without worshippers, she will go back to being functionally a normal mage."

"Tanya von Degurechaff was the most skilled mage in the world," one of the team members pointed out. "Her normal is several cuts above the rest."

"Okay, Milton, what is our next option because that one is no good?"

He glided his finger along America's fruit loop of monopolist-subordinated governments to Longdurous in Central America. "We could join up with Sam the Banana Man. We would have most of the Silver Legion forces occupying the Aztec Empire between us and the Revolutionary Army, as well as Sam's militia to protect us. There is no way they will be able to defeat a modern army even with White Silver's help."

Sam Lemmurray owned the Unified Fruit Company. He had expanded into Longduras by gathering up a militia in Louisana and then taking them over the Aztec Gulf to the country he wanted to conquer. The Unified States eventually negotiated a ceasefire between Lemmurray and Longduras, pushing everything in the monopolist's favor. The President of Longduras had to stand down, and Lemmurray's puppet got put in his place. Inspiringly for the monopolists of the world, the poors of Longduras had to reimburse Lemmurray with their own money for all his coup expenses.

Diamond wished he could be a great entrepreneur like the Banana Man one day, but as much as he would love to spend an evening with his personal hero, they needed to be sure that they would be safe.

The group all turned to the Oracle and inquired about this potential future.

"The Tejas Twister will tear through the armies of silver," the divinity of time spoke, "and where bananas are taken, the people shall rise."

Poors doing anything other than working for monopolists or dying was definitely not a future anyone in the room wanted.

"Why don't we go to the Central Afrikan Republic?" the francoisman Lollore suggested. "Lakossa is a good friend of mine, and we will not only get the protection of his army but of the Francois Republic."

Lollore's country had remained neutral regarding the Silver Legion because they utilized American business and military support for their imperial management. Personally, Diamond could not be more impressed with how the Francois Republic extracted enough wealth to rebuild its economy after the Great War. It bothered him that they provided 'welfare' for their poors, but it kept them satisfied enough to mentally justify the poor man's rococo lifestyle. Importantly, it kept them from revolting like the poors in America had. The lesson: have your aristocracy oppress the poors in another region far from the voting booth and center of government power.

Key to the Republic's success was the implementation of the CFA Franc imperial currency that subordinated fourteen countries' economies to the Francois Republic. It had proven way more cost-efficient than colonialism ever was. Basically, instead of using tanks, the Francois used the bank. They accomplished dominating the post-colonial economies by monopolizing all the ports and controlling the prices of exports through the CFA Franc. These Afrikan nations just could not develop an export economy and were completely stuck under the financial thumb of the Republic. It was well known throughout the political class that by forcing these countries to purchase goods at above-market prices and sell goods at below-market prices, the Francois Republic could become one of the wealthiest nations in the world.

In other words, no system had so lucratively impoverished as many undeserving poors as colonialism. Still, nothing had hurt the profits of the superior beings as much as countries gaining independence and pursuing economic policy independently of them. Luckily, capitalism spurs innovation, and new forms of controlling countries through monetary control and regime change have developed that were even more profitable than the old-school colonial strategies.

As impressive as Lollore's option seemed, the group still wasn't sure how safe it would be, so they turned to the Oracle and gave his next prophecy.

"The hands of the world will be tied in the Americas. You shall have a safe harbor, but only for a few winters. The Angels seek to free the over-exploited, and whispers will lead them to you."

"Then what?"

"Some of you will perish."

Going to the Central Afrikan Republic proved the best option available to them at the time, so they left as soon as they could get into the jet.

Diamond had to push Lopez Lega off the stairs to escape before a very unreasonable Andean mage from the local MI team could kill him. Apparently, the League of Nations had given the Mages of Interpol the okay to eliminate them. The worst mistake the superior beings ever made was not having veto power to stop other countries from asking for unprofitable things like justice for the poors. Now, the socialists in the League did something unforgivable, trying to kill or capture Richard Diamond, a practical saint.

The law wasn't supposed to hold rich people accountable. Thankfully, the people of Francois Republic knew that there was nothing more vile than letting the poors revolt against the ruling class. It went against nature and everything the Francois people stood for. That was why they took so much pride in destroying New Luinea's economy after they refused to be economically dominated by the Republic. All it took was forging and dumping countless counterfeit bills into that country, and the poors got what was coming to them. The Francois Republic sure knew how to make an example out of any poors who dared question nature's hierarchy of humanity where the rich were at the top, the sedated welfare serfs were in the middle, and the poors stayed at the bottom they belonged.

As the rest of them flew off, Diamond got a sense his allies were worried that they might be the next to get eliminated. Before it could become like the Commonwealth turning on the Silver Legion, the businessman reassured them that he would never sacrifice them for his own benefit. Lega was an Argentium. His life was just less valuable than theirs, and they accepted that excuse for now.

They didn't know that the Oracle had told him that the only way for him to survive Interpol hunting him down was to sacrifice all his friends resources. A go-between with Interpol named 'Sally W.' would help him escape future capture in exchange for incriminating information as well as leading his allies into traps.

---

The Free Township of Grafton, The Democratic Confederation of Abya Yala - 22nd of May, 1953

Roar!

'I don't like it here,' Sonnetto complained.

'Just give it a little longer,' Tanya placated. 'The town is going through growing pains.'

"Do you think I can scare it off?" Matheus asked me.

"I would rather not have you fight a bear," I replied.

"Sonata, it would be kind of cool. You think?"

A grizzly stood before us. It had started sniffing around our house after gorging on our neighbor's garbage. We didn't really know what to do. There was no one to call to deal with bears in our new hometown of Grafton in the new country the revolutionaries had created.

While Khuyana Gonzalez and the rest of MI54 hunted down Diamond and rounded up the criminal paramilitary group AAA in Argentum, I was getting used to my new normal. Matheus, Calamity Amb, and I had moved to Grafton in the former Unified States after the revolution and settled down into a functional government because Germania had gone a bit too scary politically for a lesbian like me. I also really needed a vacation, and it was much easier to update my documents in a brand-new government. As for Richard Diamond and his buddies, I left that to Interpol and the Angels until they called on me or my multi-year vacation of emotional recovery concluded.

The Unified States had split into two after the revolution. The Unified States of America now consisted only of the states on the East Coast. The revolutionary movement claimed the territory west of the Happalachia mountains and named their country Abya Yala based on the suggestion of the World Indigenous Peoples Council.

It had two governments that overlapped each other. One was a Democratic Federation that resembled closer to what one thought a next-gen socialist state would be, with new bells and whistles that would supposedly correct past issues that plagued the Old Federation. The other government was a Democratic Confederation of allied townships that opted out of the Federation system for the most part. Each township could experiment with its plan within some guardrails to prevent slavery and things like that.

As for my family's new hometown of Grafton, it billed itself as a libertarian paradise with almost no taxes, strict private property protections, practically no regulations, minimum public services, and the bare minimum of government. My Tanya half absolutely had to give it a try.

The houses looked quite lovely when we moved in. Modern, though a bit cookie-cutter.

Then, the neighbors came. Some of them let their lawns go to hell. Some put up a bunch of southern confederate flags and were extremely racist towards me. The same guy also made sure to pee in view of everyone to make a point that no one could do anything about it because if we trespassed into his yard, he would shoot us. He was also the guy who properly disposed of his garbage despite the fact bears were in the area. Some people just wanted to embody a walking middle finger, and this guy had really outdone himself.

Obviously, I could just put up a barrier and do whatever I wanted, but I wasn't that kind of person.

'I don't want to raise a kid where someone is going to shoot them if they walk onto their property,' Sonnetto complained.

'We could make it hard for him and pester him until he leaves,' Tanya suggested, still staunchly committed to the experimental town in the Confederation half of Abya Yala.

The Germania war vet was definitely trying to avoid being in the socialist Federation that most of the country had joined and the Albish-allied traditional liberal democracy on the east coast, which had a few too many 'former' Silver Legionists in it for Tanya's liking.

"We could also shoot the bear," Calamity offered. "Or scare it off with some gunfire."

"Yeah, no," I replied as I rubbed my forehead in frustration at being the responsible one once again. "We are not shooting a gun right now. The McKinsey said if one more person starts shooting in the neighborhood, he is moving out."

"Okay, I am going to wrestle it then!" Matheus shouted.

Yeah, I was going to move. This was not working for me. Hopefully, the township Polyxena and Masquerade had picked proved more inhabitable.

---

Radical Faerie Sanctuary, Democratic Confederation of Abya Yala - 30th of June, 1953

I found a corner of the small home to stare at because things here were not quite what I expected. A jolly Masquerade and a pregnant Polyxena sat in the modest living room with us. Despite being upset that Richard Diamond had slipped from our fingers again, Elya had told me she had a plan to turn the man against his allies, which would pay off in the end, she promised. With that knowledge, I focused on the present.

"Is there something wrong, Sonata?" Masquerade inquired.

"Is everyone here naked?" I pressed.

"Not everyone," Polyxena clarified as she pressed herself upon her partner's back. "We Radical Faeries come in all shapes and sizes. Some of us embrace our clothes, some shed them."

"Plus, I am not naked," Masquerade stated.

"You are wearing a mask and a tie," I countered.

"Business formal for me."

Polyxena was a bad influence on my former vice-captain. The guy had gone native.

"I don't like this place," Matheus whispered to me. The guy was old-fashioned and honorable. He liked more traditional town structures, and the Radical Faerie Sanctuary was as far away from that as you could be.

'I don't want to live in this hippie land, sorry,' Tanya admitted.

'I think it is fine as long as they don't expect us to participate in the nudity.'

I preferred to dress modestly in public. Despite being a bunch of more pacifist and communalist types, I felt quite a bit of peer pressure to fit in more. Someone even called me a square. It was definitely not my cup of coffee being here.

"Hey, Harry Clay is claiming the communal tent all for himself and his partners," someone called out from outside. "This is the last straw!"

I tried to ignore the commotion outside as we continued to discuss their choice of home.

"So, what do y'all do for fun in these here parts?" Calamity wondered, having absolutely no issues with anything naked. The farmer knew how sausages were made. A few hippies were not going to bother her.

"We have an olive grove where we can attune ourselves to nature and do calisthenics," Masquerade started. "There are drag shows and parties. Handcrafts are popular."

"And plenty of adult fun times if you are interested in the free love stuff," Polyxena added. "I'm not. My Laurie here is enough for me."

'That doesn't sound too bad,' Sonnetto commented.

"Okay, I had enough!" that man outside roared. "Down Faerie fascism. Anyone who thinks Harry Clay is a dictator joined me. I am starting the Faerie Fascist Police."

I sighed. "Does this happen often?" I wondered.

"No." "Yes." The couple replied, contradicting each other.

"Yes." "No." They tried to flip their answers to the other's one simultaneously.

"Mr. Drake, would you answer?" I pressed, taking command of the situation.

"Walker and Clay have a long history of fighting each other. Most people who have joined recently don't know about their rivalry. You can ignore it when they aren't shouting like this."

We continued to talk about their baby and their lives. Masquerade was going to get back to crime-fighting once their child was a bit older, or accommodations could be made to make it reasonable. Polyxena was just focused on the present but insistent that they were going to share responsibilities evenly and fairly in child raising and housekeeping.

After dinner, my family and I flew off.

"As nice as this place is, I can't imagine living here," Matheus commented sheepishly. He probably felt guilty for not liking it there.

"What? I think it was all pretty nifty. They didn't take too kindly of my gun, I admit, but they were not bad folk."

Calamity cared more about people being friendly than falling into convention.

There were countless different townships and land reclamation projects throughout Abya Yala that made up its Democratic Confederation side. The Iroquois Confederacy, for example, had been doing very well with building up their communities and healthcare infrastructure, but moving there was understandably limited right now. I needed to consider someplace that would fit with Matheus and my Beruner preferences.

"We will try one more option in this country," I muttered. It was the one I was dreading.

---

Bde Óta Othúŋwe, Democratic Federation of Abya Yala - 12th of July, 1953

If I weren't terrified of being repurposed as a mage-shaped nuke by European countries or the Russy Federation, I wouldn't be in this planned economy of the Democratic Federation. As for our new maybe-hometown of Bde Óta Othúŋwe [Many Lakes Town], it had seen a lot of riots as the revolutionary army set up the new government from those who wanted to keep the Silver Legion rule, but the workers' council went away fast to rebuild roads and infrastructure doing Hoosevelt style projects to keep people employed and the economy humming during the transition.

What surprised me most was how seamless a lot of it seemed. From what I can determine, the big difference between the Old Federation and Zhangzi's rapid transition into very pure socialism was the increased democratic element, allowing for more sophisticated policy-making, as well as the fact that most of the economy was already effectively collectivized under authoritarian, price-controlling monopolies. Replacing the leadership of a monopoly with worker councils with the assistance of technocratic advisors proved…terrifyingly simple.

Setting up farmer co-ops as the market was democratized would take time. The Americans decided not to employ the disastrous Soviet-Union-style shock therapy to go from the authoritarian American model of economics to a democratic one, which resulted in massive amounts of death and oligarchies taking over in my past life. Instead, they employed a planned and steady approach to dismantling the dictatorship of the Silver Legion.

They reformed the economy so that it had social ownership and used what the late Demiguichi had called the dual-track system. It first required key industries to meet quotas sold at a set value to the government. This quota was so the country could still keep its promise to the people to ensure that their basic needs were taken care of from 'the cradle to the grave'. Then, any surplus production could be sold at market value. This system was what had turned China of Tanya's past life from one of the poorest countries into one of the wealthiest countries in that world with a booming commodity market in a few decades.

Still, it gave the federal government a lot of power to control the economy and, by extension, people's lives. You needed a lot of trust in your political apparatus to live in a planned economy. The stronger the state, the more dangerous it can be when corrupted.

'We are not going back to Grafton,' Sonnetto stated, her mental arms akimbo.

'Wasn't planning on it, dear.'

I had to go through a fairly typical bureaucratic process to migrate into the Federation side of the country's political makeup. It wasn't as intensive as Germania, but it definitely created several hoops to jump through to start my new life.

"Name?" the immigration official asked me.

"Sonata Canary von Weiss," Matheus spoke on my behalf.

Matheus acted as my translator. Not everyone could hear my voice. Since it would raise unnecessary questions if I talked to my friends while on mute, I used sign language primarily around strangers.

"Age?"

"...75."

I kind of made it up. It was hard to figure out what would make sense.

The man looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Mage status?"

"Full mage." And then some.

"Great War Longevity, I assume."

"Yeah. I do."

"Are you part of a union already?"

"No, not really."

"Then you will need to join one as part of your citizen responsibilities for now. You have to keep that collective spirit up and educate folks on how things work in a democracy. What is your occupation?"

"Magical International Police Officer."

"You are an MI, then. Awesome. Big fan of Agent Nichts. I hope she catches that Richard Diamond bastard and brings him to justice."

"I am sure she will get to it eventually," I replied with a slight smirk.

'Pzzzt.' a certain homunculus burst into laughter in my soul space.

'Sonnetto, it isn't that funny.'

'I find it hilarious that people do this around us all the time. Oh, don't pout. Let me give you a kiss.'

I did my best to hide my blushing behind my hands. Calamity seemed to have guessed what was happening in my head, but the strangers around us wouldn't understand.

"So here are the few options for your area for your local worker council. Also, here is guidance for participating in general assemblies. This one will tell you where to go to attend classes to learn Dakhóta and the history of the region."

I took the pamphlets and scanned the list of local community centers for one that might interest one or both of my halves.

"Do you want to volunteer for Sortition selection?" the man inquired, continuing down his forms.

"Very much no."

The Federation of Abya Yala used a bicameral legislature, with one half being a senate of technocrats and council representatives and the other half being a people's house composed of a sortition of lottery-selected individuals from across the country. This bicameral setup, notably, segregated powers and duties away from the technocrats, such as the ability to remove corrupt officials from the Senate and prevent the consolidation of power into a dictator. In essence, being part of a sortition amounted to jury duty, but for the People's House.

I didn't want to potentially be tied down doing legislative jury duty for a couple of years, which was why I didn't volunteer for that.

After answering the rest of the questions, we reached the last bit of business at the immigration office.

"Okay, I will need to take a picture to finish your ID, ma'am."

Oh shit. Well, this will be complicated.

My appearance does not appear in mirrors or on film, and everyone sees me as a different stranger these days unless they bypass the Silver Mirror power.

I turned to Matheus and Calamity Amb for advice. My adoptive father simply shrugged.

"I reckon we were going to have to pull a few strings," the Tejan stated.

And a few strings, indeed, did get pulled. It helped to have friends in high places.

Once everything got settled, my family moved into an apartment next to Loring Park in the city of Bde Óta Othúŋwe. Loring Park was apparently dubbed the gayborhood, and Bde Óta Othúŋwe was rumored to be the lesbian capital of the country secretly. I figured it would be relatively safe for me and my family. While the couple in my soul had one another, my body still wanted company. It would be nice to go to some lesbian bars and get reintegrated into the community here.

Depressingly, the Berun GLBT community in my home country had fallen apart, and Bde Óta Othúŋwe had become a haven for those fleeing as Europa became increasingly nationalistic again and their biggest threat became the Russy Federation.

On the bright side, I found a lovely group of artists to help me improve my painting skills. My first piece, as a fusion, depicted how Tanya and Sonnetto fused together and created me.

'I think you are exaggerating my figure a bit, Tanya,' Sonnetto stated.

'Hey, we are both technically making this, and I like to think of it as being stylized. How do you know you aren't the one doing it?'

'Because I know how I paint myself.'

'Well, you definitely went all out on my hair.'

'No, the waves really do look like that.'

'Really?' Tanya wondered, reviewing Sonnetto's memories.

'Yeah, it is gorgeous.' the white-haired interpol officer replied.

'Well, I think you look pretty cool when you have your short hair and those twin pistols out.'

'You always did like tomboys,' Sonnetto replied with a chuckle and a mental hug to her other half.

'Well, I have great taste, is all.'

More soul-space kisses and such ensued.

We deserved this happiness. After so long, we deserved it.

---

Mapudungun International Airport, Andean Confederacy - 2nd of November, 1953

"Welcome!" cheered Doctor Khuyana Gonzalez and members of her ayllu (family clan) as my family and I came out of the plane.

"There are a lot of you," I signed excitedly. It was nice meeting her again after so many years. It felt like a lifetime. I fished some stuff out of my packs. "We brought gifts."

"Oh, we appreciate it."

I let her see the painting I made of her battle form, which I think really captured her fierceness but loving side.

"I forgot to bring sunscreen, and Matheus needs toothpaste," Calamity mentioned. "Where can we buy…I mean, get one."

"I don't think anyone in my ayllu has spare toothbrushes," Khuyana answered in Ispagnia. "But we do have sunscreen we can share. If we don't, I know how to make some."

"I really don't know how we are going to do this whole trip the Inca way," I stated with curiosity.

The Inca had an advanced 'moneyless' society based on family-clans-based mutualism and solidarity; however, that left visitors in a bind to join up with an ayllu or bring a bunch of gifts and things with which to barter.

For this reason, we brought some bags of Gonzalez-approved seeds that the local mages would love to experiment with in their spell gardens. We had to be very careful not to get anything that didn't belong in the local ecology and cause unforeseen consequences. Getting through customs was a pain, but eventually, our seeds got double-checked.

Tanya wasn't an environmentalist, but she knew well enough that to mess with the Amazon too much was to mess with the ability of all humans to live on the planet. She had friends on this planet. Plus, neither Sonnetto nor Tanya wanted to step on any toes while visiting another country or cause havoc through ignorance. That was why you always had to ask local experts for guidance on this stuff; they lived there and just knew better.

"The shops in the cities will take currency," our Andean sponsor clarified for me. Khuyana might have lived in Argentum, but most of her family lived in the Confederacy to the north, which had once been the mighty Inca Empire before colonization and their subsequent war for independence.

I gave her an exasperated look.

"Hey, we Andeans want to buy stuff from Abya Yala, too, and most foreigners want to trade in currency. It is when you get to the countryside that you will need barter goods. Plus, tourist destinations are set up with foreigners in mind."

To each their own, I guessed. A debate over whether to have a moneyless society or not had been raging back in Abya Yala after some millionaires were caught attempting to bribe members of the current sortition. Some thought that having more money equated to having more rights. I thought it was terribly impractical not to have money. Get rid of accumulating cash, and people will just accumulate goods. If you make goods family-owned or communally-owned, then those families and communes will accumulate goods. The same dynamics would remain present.

Markets always find a way to exist. The key was having a system of internal and external controls like any corporation worth its salt would have to prevent fraud, misappropriation of assets, material misstatements of public reports, etc. Really, people just need to get CPAs to design their legislatures and resource management systems to have properly established responsibilities, segregation of duties, and restricted access.

Regardless, it was fun hanging out with Khuyana and her Ayllu. Calamity really loved the nature here. We even went to see the penguins. We took a lot of photos.

Matheus did have to go to the hospital after an accident with some wildlife he really should not have gotten that close to. Really, he has let his being a mage get to his head. We aren't indestructible. A snake bites in the middle of the jungle without Khuyana around, and he would be dead.

While I wouldn't want to live in the Andean Confederacy, like I say — to each their own. That was what freedom meant to me. Find a way you want to live.

On our way back to Abya Yala, Khuyana pulled me aside.

"Sonnetto, Tanya, I wanted to tell you both that everyone in the MI54 is relieved you both are safe," she said with soulful violet eyes.

"It isn't the first time an ego-maniacal asshole has tried to take me out. Although it is the first time I am forced to share a body with another person permanently."

"Still, we were so worried. I might have needed to…."

"It is okay, Doctor Gonzalez." I took her into a hug and rocked her a bit. She had been holding this in during the whole trip, not knowing when to bring it up, I guessed. Now that I was leaving, this was her last chance to get it off her chest. "If Tanya were trapped that way, she would have wanted you to."

"If you ever need us, let us know. We aren't going to let those bastards ruin any more countries or take any more people like they did you."

"Thank you. We will catch him as soon as we can. We just have to wait until we are given the call."

We had not known each other very long, but I could feel that we were kindred spirits in a way. Now my vacation was over, it was time to get back to work. I wish it had lasted longer, but to be honest, the fact I could not find a place I really liked to stay, plus my legal status as "Sonata" would have made a more extended vacation more of a hassle anyway.

---

Interpol Branch Office in Bde Óta Othúŋwe, Democratic Federation of Abya Yala - 30th of January, 1954

Agent Fred Wei-Ho put another recording jewel into the display box. I had decided we needed to desegregate mages and non-mages in our field teams more, and Fred had proven an excellent field operative when it came to gathering information on the ground. There were just too few mages, and it helped keep us grounded in a way that was often lost just being in a mage-only club together, as well as having someone available to intervene in the oft too common instance of non-mages being present who needed apprehending.

I supplied mana for the orb to operate, and a projection of Paul Robeson's hearing at the House Un-American Activities Committee went on display.


View: https://youtu.be/bFLg-LpiEok?si=xeAUbgG8riu1A7uS
(This would have been set before the Silver Legion took power in 1936. Note that the language is from the period, and some historical references will be off.)

Fred and I took notes detailing for the International Criminal Court prosecutors. There was just so much to go through. Some had been destroyed, but we needed to dig not only for signs of what had happened but also for what had led to fascism's rise in the Unified States. The world needed to know what the signs were and how we could make sure to catch them before history repeated itself.

The League of Nations also had to become smarter and have the proper teeth to curb the twin evils of imperialism and fascism. The former was the impulse to take from other regions and genocide them for profit. The latter was when that imperialist tendency turned inwards through the genocidal acquisition of cultural and ethnic 'territory and resources' within a country, in my opinion.

Both, I believed, were an affront to what any principled liberal should believe in. Imperialism amounted to grand theft at the national level, which was why it was necessary to curb the lawlessness between nations through the prudent use of global governance. Fascism or Legionism was a no-brainer, but the tricky thing was knowing how and when to intervene in a country. We didn't want just to turn the League of Nations into an imperialist instrument using the oft-used pretense of 'civilizing savages' that the European officials employed when abusing, enslaving, and genociding people into understanding how to be decent human beings.

When the footage ended, a seemingly random thing caught my attention.

"What did the committee mean by communist name?" I asked my colleague Agent Ho.

"You know how Mae Shpigel goes by Freddie Forest in her writings?"

I nodded.

"That is because it is not safe. Communists get spied upon, arrested, and murdered — revolutionary or not, like with how the AAA in Argentum rounds up politicians, journalists, and activists and kills them. It isn't safe to be critical of fascist regimes."

"Or certain communist ones," I added, remembering Ramona Mercer's picking off her fellow commies who criticized the Old Federation and became 'revisionists'. "For all their talk of solidarity, they sure fought with each other a lot, even to the point of killing each other. Well, to be a revolutionary was to accept that negotiation already was off the table."

"Well, would you be moderate in the name of justice?" Fred countered.

"I would be moderate in the name of losing myself in irrational desire just to hurt people," I retorted back casually. Mary Sue had definitely taught me that the pursuit of 'justice' could go way too far. "Before one criticizes some prudent moderation, one should imagine being on the receiving end of too much revanchist justice."

We kept going through records on this thread of abuses. Paul Robeson died in Moscva after what was believed to been mental destablization due to an injection of MKUltra, which was a brainwashing drug used by the CIA in torture. MKUltra was the successor to Project Artichoke before the refinement of the formula with the help of the most amoral scientists they could find to do human experiments through Operation Paperclip. The head of the CIA destroyed most of the documents before the agency and its allies could be held accountable. Tanya, who had a long and traumatic history of fighting mind control, took the task of holding these people accountable for their crimes. They would have to do a lot of interviews to recover what was lost.

Somewhat similar to the role of the AAA in Argentum now, the CIA had systematically attempted to covertly eliminate, disrupt, and denigrate any anti-fascist, anti-imperialist, and anti-racist organizations in the country. Paul Robeson was hardly the only victim of these purges of political resistance to the rising unique brand of fascism in America called Legionism. The CIA had files on everyone from journalists to politicians to activists of all stripes who held highly critical positions in US domestic and foreign policy. Philosophy professors, in particular, found their ability to publish papers revoked, and they were ushered out of universities en masse.

Then, as I flipped through the more documents with Agent Ho, I got a surprise call.

"Tanya, Sonnetto, you have some time for a meeting," someone messaged me through my Solidarity powers.

"May I ask who is calling?" Tanya replied.

"Oh, sorry, your friend with problems, Elya."

Fred noticed that I had gotten distracted. "You in a call?"

"Yeah, do you mind if I step out to have a meeting with our boss?"

He waved me off. "I will continue where we left off with making our report."

I took our professional duty as law enforcement to provide our contribution to the accounting of history from the point of view of justice and law enforcement very seriously. We weren't perfect and not focused on every aspect of what happened. Still, we had a fiduciary duty to the world public to give a nuanced understanding of the incentives, opportunities, and rationalizations that led to Legionism and its various atrocities.

"Be back soon, Fred."

I headed out to my office in the new Interpol Abya Yala branch headquarters. Calamity Amb and Masquerade wanted in on the 'call', so I pulled them in as well. This was far from the first time they did this, and a lot of information about Tanya's past life had to be shared, given her complex situation. Every time she shared her true self with someone trustworthy, though, it became easier the next time.

---

Sonata's Soul Space

Unlike just talking through Solidarity connections, Tanya and Sonnetto could bring their allies into their Soulspace for more coherent conversations. It was hard to understand each other if you couldn't distinguish their messages from your own thoughts.

Tanya set up an imaginary conference table while Sonnetto made sure the soul-stuff chairs would be comfortable.

Elya's soul came into the conference room and took a chair. She had these cracks along her spirit's porcelain-like surface but eyes that seemed to pierce straight into your soul. In short, her form here made clear what her flesh form obscured.

Calamity Amb stood tall when she nonchalantly mosey on inside. She had her Tejas cowgirl outfit, but one of her hands was forever covered in the blood of her self-condemnation, while the other often had a torch of past struggles. Around her neck was a locket with a picture of her family, which her understanding of her father featured prominently despite her not having many memories of him. The man lived on in the stories her mother and sister had told the Tejan.

Masquerade looked a bit like a sunflower with a green suit, a yellow-petal-shaped ascot, and a masked face that somehow always had sunlight upon it. He definitely thrived in the spotlight and sought it out. If his mask fell off, though, his form would fall into darkness.

Once they were all seated, the meeting began.

"Do you want to start with work or politics?" Senior Officer Elena Müller began as Tanya conjured coffee for everyone — their favorite blends, brewed precisely as they liked them.

"Politics first, please," Tanya stated. "I am concerned about you, my former adjutant, and her family, given some of what I heard."

While the two soulmates had kept occasional tabs on the politics of Tanya's home country, their house search and Silver Legion investigation in Abya Yala had kept their focus there. Sonnetto had encouraged Tanya to avoid negative news for a few months for her mental health. However, the situation had gotten to the point where the reincarnated soul's worries about what was happening to the country where many people she cared about lived demanded an update.

As for the others, no one was going to disagree with that. They knew the stakes were high in how Germania's political elections went. With the Russy Federation breathing down their homeland's neck for an excuse to invade and the Francois Republic poking bears that really should not be poked, World War II could still occur. That was before discussing the situation within the Fatherland.

"How did the bid to repeal Paragraph 175?" Sonnetto inquired with apt interest. Decriminalizing male homosexuality, which Paragraph 175 criminalized, would help everyone in the GLBT community in Germania by giving the country a sense of normalcy.

"The Scientific Humanitarians got the libertarians to vote with them on the repeal by convincing them that 175 enabled people blackmailed people with the threat to accusing them of homosexuality," Elya answered with a dutiful report. During these soul conference meetings, she gained this business lady mask over her face. Sonnetto had the feeling it was to appeal to her soulmate. "Everyone remembers the Eulenburg Affair, so we know how much harm accusations, true or not, can be."

Well, some of those present remember that.

The homunculus, who was privy to Tanya's mind, could see some memories flashing by. Her love remembered how, in her past life, President Ronald Reagan had been convinced of the same argument by activists in the gay rights movement with the same argument. It bothered Tanya that 'small-government' types couldn't just decriminalize homosexuality on principle rather than needing to be convinced how it might impact people 'like them'. Sonnetto knew better, being very familiar with these constant contradictions between what people say and what people do, but it was hard for Tanya to be perpetually disappointed in her fellow pragmatic liberals' hypocrisy.

"What is the likelihood of the repeal passing?" Tanya attempted to sound hopeful despite her frustrations and life-long experience of being disappointed.

"Right now, slim," Elya replied. "Not only did we just finish our elections, but the recession here due to the revolution in the Unified States as well as the huge shift of power towards the socialist camp geopolitically has put several other policy matters higher on the agenda."

It was what it was. Tanya knew gay rights in most capitalist countries were going to take a long time to develop.

"Okay, we have a socialist party gaining massive ground with rural, women, and middle-class voters," Elya reported before taking a sip and thanking Tanya with a smile.

"Well, ain't that good news!" Calamity proclaimed, making her political biases clear. "What is their platform? Any nationalization of industries, bolstering unions, equality between the sexes, anti-war, and anti-discrimination?"

"Quite the opposite," the spiritual porcelain former spy replied with a smile. "They plan on privatizing some state industries, banning trade unions and establishing a party-run replacement, restoring traditional family values where 'men are men and women are women', rehashing the Great War to bring back the Empire days, and going after several minorities with a vengeance."

"How in tarnation are those socialists!" the gunslinger grossed. "That's just some jingoist conservatives."

"It is a cynical ploy to get working-class votes by coopting their slogans, language, and labels," Elya explained and then complimented Sonnetto for the pictures and calligraphy she had added to the coffee cups. "You should see how their leader will give speeches to get the religious vote while obviously not liking the Universalist faith. It is all whatever will get them to vote for his party. However, what I am really concerned about is how they are picking up so many women as voters."

Masquerade tapped his soul's shiny chin. "If I had to guess, it is child care."

This got Tanya perked up at a subject very much on her mind often these days.

"Think about it: after the war, all women had to get into the workforce en masse, but then many had kids, of whom they were also expected to take care of all alone," he clarified, flexing his insight as a soon-to-be father who makes frequent joint decisions with his partner.

"Basically, they can't figure out how to balance doing effective two full-time jobs," Tanya stated, deep in thought before imagining her cup full again. "So these traditionalists are offering women a way to go back to something more manageable in the form of family life before the Great War. Speaking of which, we should probably have Interpol start providing professional childcare services and perhaps places for families to stay during prolonged investigations."

It made sense to the Japanese-Germanian woman who had been grappling with how to balance work and the question of how to start a family in a world that still lacked the infrastructure to support two-earner households. In her past life as an HR manager, childcare services were a standard benefit for employees who needed help balancing work-life as work hours increased, commute time increased, and both spouses found themselves needed to work to make ends meet. It was just more profitable for a company to provide childcare if it meant getting more hours out of their employees.

As for her other idea, she had seen American soldiers in her past life be stationed in Japan with their families in the residential areas around military bases. If Interpol could do something similar, she could transition MI15 to a major case team that required a high-powered team.

Then, something triggered in Tanya's memory as she tugged on her past life's memories more. "Would these happen to be national socialists?"

"Yes, and their party leader happens to be Rudolph Himmler right now," Elya answered somewhat passively.

It wasn't like the former spy didn't seem concerned, but bombastic 'good ol' glory days' politicians were a rentenpfennig a dozen.

"I know about that no-good, Phord-ass-kissing, anti-Heartist-conspiracy-spouting son-of-a-gun Himmler!" Calamity shouted with rage billowing in her torch. "Explains why he wants to get rid of unions upon getting into office. They are two peas in one hateful, ignorant pod. You know, Phord once published that he thought the planet couldn't support skyscrapers in his papers. When the Chicago Tribune editorial board criticized him for being an imbecilic blobfish, the millionaire sued to silence them. It backfired royally because he had to admit in court that he didn't really know anything about most things he often wrote about in his papers. Both Phord and Himmler hate how the press keeps telling them that they are full of bull."

Sonnetto could listen to Calamity's stories for hours. The woman always had one ready for any situation.

"That certainly is the case," Elya replied. "Himmler has taken to calling the press 'die Lügenpresse' [lying press] and has vowed to eliminate the freedom of the press."

"You know you are ruled by criminals when revealing their misdeeds and mistakes is criminalized," Masquerade commented with a flourish of wit. "I think—"

"No, this isn't a joking matter!" Tanya interrupted in a way she rarely did. It was obvious now to everyone that she was freaking out again. Most of them didn't know what she knew. "We have to make sure he doesn't take power. What were the election results?"

"They received about 37.3% of the vote," Elya replied. "It isn't clear who will take the ruling coalition."

Calamity looked confused. The pre-Legion Unified States didn't have proportional representation or any of the other 20th-century democratic bells and whistles that the Germania Republic had. One of the benefits of starting a new government was building off of what worked and didn't work in the past to try to make something better…hopefully.

"So no, they will have to make a minority coalition," Masquerade offered. "Who is really going to work with Himmler's party?"

"We have to wait and find out," Elya answered. "By the way, how is 'Jane' doing?"

"Well, actually, we have been going through things one step at a time. We have to go to the doctor—"

Interrupting him and everyone was the soul space filling with a sudden burst of images and screams bouncing around the conference room.

"He will kill them."

"--save Visha."

"I messed up again. I always mess."

"Why didn't I do something…why didn't I stop this!"

Sonnetto quickly went to comfort her love as terrified, paranoid thoughts started flowing out of her head through her hair, which grew to fill the soul space.

Everyone was frozen in surprise. Tanya had had panic attacks before, but never while they were in her soul space. They could only watch as countless glimpses of text, videos, and stray thoughts from Tanya had as her spirit shuddered.

It was complicated to express it. Those who haven't experienced the terror of being surrounded by neighbors who act nice but vote for politicians vowing to eradicate your existence off the face of the earth wouldn't understand. How does one eat dinner with someone who doesn't understand what their beliefs mean? How can one be friends with someone who tries to cheer you up after voting for Himmler, claiming that what you fear won't happen when you know it can? …when you know to take the bombastic promises seriously?

"If it's alright, I think Tanya needs the rest of the day off," Sonnetto added as she squeezed Tanya tighter against her spiritual body, bringing the episode to an end. "Elya, you and I still need to talk sometime, but right now, can you and Brecht do something to make sure that none of this doesn't happen? For us, for Visha's family, for everyone."

They all bowed out with their apologies. Tanya had asked Elya for an update and gotten what she desired in all its terrifying reality. To face reality with knowledge of what is and could be can be the most horrifying experience.

As Sonnetto understood it, there lay inside each person is a constellation of instincts, desires, histories, and limits. Align them in one way, and they can turn out with a Mary Sue. Turn them another way, and you can get a Tanya. Every once in a while, a charismatic leader with a particular vision will hit upon one set of constellations of the human that allow them to get away with the greatest of tragedies. The silver lining was that these individuals of disaster rarely held the majority truly under their sway, in Sonnetto's opinion. The key was fostering moral courage to stand up against the mob and the solidarity that would bring the many to support the resistance.

Sonnetto had lived a life of being unheard, and not only because she was mute. She refused to let her light and the lights of so many people who knew what it was like to be hated, misunderstood, and discriminated against be snuffed out. People needed to learn to listen and to really hear.

The report about the Silver Legion's rise to power would just be the start. As James Baldwin said, 'We will live here together, or we will die here together. It is not I who is telling you. It is time that is telling you. You will listen, or you will perish.' People need to know how serious it is to fight the forces of oppression because if they wait, it will come for them.

---

Bde Óta Othúŋwe & Imnizha ska International Airport - 18th of February, 1954

The sounds of the people in the airport filled the air around me. Away from my friends, I was the absolute stranger. The Silver Mirror curse prevented everyone from seeing the real me unless they tried to see me, and it now prevented them from hearing me unless they knew how to listen to my voice. Not even my alchemical tattoos or a face mask could get past the mirror. Since no one knew Sonata, they had no prejudices to determine what they thought I should look like.

I found that I rediscovered how to show some of my halves former selves with some concentration. As far as the world was concerned, Agent Nichts still flew around, saving the day. I could even shift my mana signature between Tanya's and Sonnetto's. Leaving it in between the two made me seem like a completely different person as far as mages were concerned.

While I fidgeted nervously, people started walking off the plane.

"Visha!" I shouted, waving my hands.

The woman didn't notice me….she didn't even hear me. Her daughter, who was an Interpol agent, tugged on her mother's arm and pointed Visha towards me.

Tanya's former adjutant looked at me like a complete stranger.

'Ugh…this is so familiar.'

Then, Visha focused on me, and her eyes widened.

I could have forced Tanya's appearance, but that would have caused other potential problems I wanted to avoid. The only people who knew who I was were trusted friends and allies in the echelons of Interpol. I used those same connections to get Visha and her family out of Germania before violence against the Russy and Eastern Europeans spiked again. People were dying already again from mob violence.

"Tanya…is that really you."

"Sonnetto is here too. We both are."

Visha tilted her head. I repeated myself while pointing to my ears. It took a moment and help from her daughter, but she got the hang of being in tune with hearing me.

"May I hug you?" I asked.

"I…yes, you can," she replied.

I held her, not caring if people could see me talking. Sometimes, it was worth being afraid of minute risks.

"I was certain you were mad at me still," she stated with a wetness born of nostalgia and suppressed grief.

"And I you."

"We both made mistakes, didn't we?"

"We did…Visha?"

"Yes, Tanya."

"I…just wanted to say I am glad you are safe. We can talk about what went wrong another day, but right now, I just want you to be safe."

I had honestly forgotten everything I had wanted to say to Visha over these years, both Tanya and Sonnetto. Underneath all that hurt still lingered a feeling that would never go away. How does a person ever hate Visha? How does someone forget the person who stayed by your side through thick and thin?

It didn't matter who caused the rift between us or any accounting of grievances. Some things transcended such things. We would talk about things, but without a fire that tore away what good remained between us.

I could feel years of grief in Visha that had trapped her, and my mana helped her pull out of that inner turmoil and reconnect with Tanya again.

We went to my home and had some dinner with my family before they went to the dwelling we had prepared for them. It would be cozy, but they were safe here in Abya Yala. If everything went according to plan, our carefully crafted report on the Silver Legion and Elya's efforts would soon make Germania safe. History did not have to repeat itself this time.

---

Sonata's Soulspace - 10th of March, 1954

It had been a couple of months since our report was released. Coupled with countless journalists and academics scouring the former Unified States for answers for what had happened, the world had come to understand the horror that the Silver Legion embodied. All that remained was hunting down the remainder of their leadership. In the meantime, Tanya and Sonnetto could move on to new jobs.

Elya had called another conference in Sonata's soul space, which not only gave them completely safe communication of case details but allowed them to be together when their physical bodies were oceans apart. This meeting only had Fang, Elya, Calamity, Sonnetto, and Tanya—basically, they are the most senior active members of MI15.

"How is your new arm treating ya, Fang?" Calamity inquired about their martial artist teammate.

"Actually, quite well," he replied.

We couldn't see it, but we assumed he was flexing his magetech arm. It wouldn't be as helpful as his other arm since his flesh was infused with mana to make his abilities work. That being said, some strides were being made for battlemage augmentation for prosthetics. It was unclear if cultivators would be able to use such tech fully, given the incompatibility of their Dao foundations to computation-core-based technology.

"The folks back in Zhangzi treating you well? I know the Old Federation didn't treat their Great War veterans too well."

"The people in Zhangzi aren't treating me differently because of my injury so much as my parentage," he replied, trying his best to navigate a rather sensitive subject for countless reasons emotionally. "My father was a bureaucrat in the clouds, and my mother is part of the Angels, which are seen as aligned with the Russy Federation. Don't worry, though. I will be joining you all in the States soon."

"Well, if anyone gives you any trouble here in the States or anywhere, let me know, and I will be there, my friend."

Fang shrugged.

What went unsaid was the way the Old Federation treated disability. Since the rich were parasites for not working, so were veterans who had suffered severe injuries and couldn't work anymore. In the Old Federation, the idealized worker was the healthy young man or woman who worked with their hands, and the degree to which you differed from that ideal, like someone who had lost their digits in the war, the more marginalized one became. The result of all of this was that many veterans with disabilities were effectively exiled to the outskirts of the Federation, where they were out of sight and out of mind. As Mae Shpigel put it, 'If you were not going to be a productive cog in the machine, you would be tossed aside.'

They went through the rest of the pleasantries, and then Senior Officer Elena 'Elya' Müller started the meeting.

"Operation Diamondbacks continues to be a success," she informed MI15. "Our mole has successfully convinced Richard Diamond that he needs to turn over more and more of his allies to our side in order to 'stay free'. Due to his betrayals, we have secured essential evidence for several ongoing cases as more criminals are apprehended to be tried by the ICC."

We were waiting for the day that Diamond ran out of allies to sacrifice to the altar of justice. He was just too predictable once you got to really know him.

After going through more details on those captures, Elya moved on to the next subject — the next mission for MI15.

"We have several options lined up for you to pick. Your team has first dibs due to seniority, Tanya." It was hard to beat being one of the very first Interpol officers in this world. "Two involve the Francois Republic."

Tanya frowned. She and that country had a history.

"The first case involves the Francois testing of something called an arcanium bomb in Dzayer. Reports indicate 42,000 deaths have occurred, and the region is highly contaminated with a deadly mutation causing mana fluctuations."

Some pictures showed what the bombs were capable of. The tests were a combination of mid-air and subterranean detonations. It was the first many of the MI15 officers present had seen such a weapon, and they exclaimed at what they were seeing. The Republic was the first country known to create such a device.

"What in tarn—"

"Even if they weren't an independent country, this is terrifying!"

"There is no way the Dzayerians approved of that."

A cacophony of voices erupted but went silent quickly as Elya raised her soul's chipped porcelain hand into the air. Tanya was the first to speak.

"The damned frogs just have no respect for national sovereignty," the Germanian war vet simmered. "They initiated a war of aggression against the Fatherland, played the victim, and now they are doing this to the Dzayerians. I lost aunts and uncles to the atomic—"

"Tanya! Stop it right now," Sonnetto interrupted with a glare. "You absolutely have to cease saying things like this. Don't treat countries as monoliths. You know that. Now, what did you learn at the union meeting yesterday."

The reincarnated soul turned away in shame before reciting the key lesson from their officer professional ethics course at the union meeting last night.

"'Collective punishment is a war crime. Don't blame everyone in a country for what their leaders decide. Instead, hold the decision-makers accountable.'"

Tanya knew this already deep down. In her previous life, her corporate training had drilled into the rationale behind the SOX laws, which held management ultimately responsible for controlling fraud and corruption. In her current life, the Great War had emphasized targeting the enemy's leaders. While there was a messy translation between the situations, the throughline focused on those at the top.

But she wasn't the only one who had struggles with revanchist attitudes.

"Sonnetto, what is wrong?" She asked with worry evident on Tanya's face.

"Let's..just keep the meeting going."

Having access to parts of Sonnetto's mind, Tanya could see a simmering rage directed at President Billards of the Republic. Her partner, rather unprofessionally, had a stray thought about the millionaire and his friends dying mysteriously on his fancy yacht for profiteering and terrorism they were doing all across Afrika. Richard Diamond and Emperor Cassander had left an impact on both of their sense of justice, and she started seeing more and more Diamond-like individuals as they received more intel from the duped businessman. One of Sonnetto's thoughts swirled around how blasé people were when the Billards of the world could have leaders assassinated anywhere else in the world other than Europa yet would scream at the injustice if such a thing ever happened to a European leader.

Neither Tanya nor Sonnetto wanted to get involved in extrajudicial justice, but as the ICC and Interpol got more teeth, the institutions could do what the national-level law enforcement systems could not. Hopefully, one day, it wouldn't just be protesting the war crimes of elected leaders but actually holding them accountable for their crimes even during their term in office. Interpol just had to play their cards right to get there.

"May we do a case that does not involve the Francois Republic?" Tanya requested on behalf of her team. She could feel this irked Sonnetto but persisted. "After the Covert Corp case, I think MI15 should stay clear of investigating that country for a while."

"Very well, our next case is also thanks to Diamond giving me intel. The MI15 report, as well as all the journalists reporting on the Silver Legion's activities, has resulted in loud public condemnations of the Legion by several governments throughout the world and followed up by swift and discreet cover-ups of their own crimes to save face. Diamond has informed us of the Albish Colonial Office's massive obstruction of justice scheme called Operation Legacy."

The senior officer conjured an image of a very obvious fire at the Albish Colonial Office in New Delhi, followed by several more discreet operations across the Albish Empire, destroying documents and reports. One such report that was saved indicated a series of excess deaths of 165 million people in Bharat between the years of 1880 and 1920 through targeted famines and suppression activities by the Albish Colonial administrators.

Other documents covered the actions taken to exacerbate the Eirish people's starvation despite the fact they produced more than enough food that was being siphoned off to Albion, as well as countless other suppression activities since then. The result was that the Eirish population was still less today than it had been over a century ago. So thorough was the system of their devastation under Malthusian and landlord rule, whose armed guard took the plentiful food out of the land and who took advantage of the desperation of the Eirish to trade well below market value what little the Eirish had for well above market value what they needed to survive. All of this was justified by letting the invisible hand correct for 'overpopulation'.

"Moving on to the case I can assign to one of my teams is the Colonial Office's suppression of the Mau Mau Uprising in Senya," Elya continued, unphased by the information she already knew.

The retrieved documents Elya displayed of the torture methods, usage of concentration camps, and mass killings made Sonnetto's gut churn. Even Tanya became uncomfortable. There was a reason why she gave the 203rd counterintelligence training besides trying to get them to quit. This time period was rife with similar events, and people needed to be prepared for what lengths the powers at be would take to win in conflicts.

"If we get involved in such a high-profile case, especially after the Museum Heist fiasco, it might go belly up fast," Tanya commented with a bit of exhaustion. "The Commonwealth has already threatened to leave the League of Nations if they are treated 'unfairly'."

"And they plan to make an organization with the other Western European countries called the United Nations, apparently," Elya added neutrally without explaining how she knew that.

"Sounds more like a money-murder-imperialist club to me where they will give themselves veto power so they can never be held accountable again," Sonnetto accidentally let slip out.

Normally, the homunculus didn't have the opportunity to put her blunt outrage on public display like this, and the only way she knew about the veto was because Tanya did.

"As my pa once said," Calamity started as she drew from her family's wisdom. "The people who proudly support the use of the gun when it's pointed at innocent people are also the same people who cry to high heavens in surprise when they find another gun has been pointed back at them."

"I agree with Tanya after considering her words," Elya concluded crisply. "We don't want to agitate a split between the League and Western Europa right now by assigning MI15 to that case. Do you have any ideas about what kind of case you want to focus on?"

Tanya thought about it for a moment, looked at Sonnetto for approval, and then explained her decision.

"Preferably, can I get one involving a socialist country? People think I hate Europa and capitalism due to how my recent cases have been going."

"Very well. I didn't think you would want this case, but it is what we have available right now."

---

Interpol Office in Northern Bharat - 29th of April, 1954

Tanya and her big mouth.

Elya had sent the now much expanded and global in scope MI15 to assist in the investigation of human rights abuses in Northern Bharat, where an absolute powder keg of tensions between various ethnic and religious groups had gone off on a few months prior.

The top brass at the League of Nations wanted MI15 to replicate the reporting techniques we used during the Silver Legion report on Bharat. Our objectives were to bring culprits to justice, provide remedial justice to the victims, identify the root causes of the outbreak of violence, and prescribe effective solutions. Wading through highly partisan reports made creating a coherent narrative that would meet our objectives needed a completely different approach than what we used in the Silver Legion Report. There was not as relatively obvious a delineation between victims, perpetrators, and bystanders as there had been in the Silver Legion. There were several centuries of historical tensions here, and new grievances were piling up unevenly on every side each day. For example, the partisan reporting sometimes depicted the Legalists as the remnants of a previous imperial invasion who needed to be ousted like the Albish or sometimes as the victims of the dominant culture oppressing them.

How far into the past do we litigate? How much should historical rights matter over the material reality of tragedy faced by those being targeted?

I needed to lean on my team a lot for help in this case because these questions were far beyond what my two halves could comprehend without checks on their biases. I turned first to Investigator Fred Wei Ho.

"Okay, I am struggling to follow what is going on in Bharat here," I stated as I parsed through reports on the complex sectarian spiral of violence.

"Well, you know how the preamble of their constitution says that Bharat is a secular socialist democracy?" Fred Wei Ho inquired rhetorically.

I nodded.

"Well, the country is not secular, or socialist, or democratic."

In other words, the current state of affairs was filled with chauvinistic, profit-seeking, and oligarchic currents.

"Okay, Fred, but what are the causes of the problem," I replied as I tried to dig deeper into this complex problem. "I am a woman who wants to go straight to the core of the issue."

"At least in part, Gandhi's legacy."

"Okay, one, you are going to have to explain that to me. Second, we can't blame Gandhi for contributing to this situation in the slightest. The entire world will ridicule us, and we will create the wrong impression about the purpose of Interpol's interventions here."

"That is exactly the problem!" Fred threw his hands in the air, nearly knocking Jing-wei, another new teammate, over in his show of exasperation. "We can't blame his legacy for any unforeseen consequences it caused. He is too sacrosanct."

"Ugh, I think I understand the problem," I groaned. "We had the same problem with Martin Bishop in the States. These charismatic guys, as inspiring as their speeches might be, create a mythology around themselves that basically deifies them as the embodiment of the movement and the good."

"Which makes them above criticism," Masquerade added, adjusting his mask to cover his face better.

"And allows for prejudices to get cemented in that 'good'," Calamity followed up. "Well, I reckon this is going to be pretty bad. Obviously, one person can't take all the blame for anything that happened, but what did Gandhi actually do that contributed to this situation where we got shootouts and police rounding up Legalists for mass killings and all sorts of horrible, no-good things?"

"Well, it mostly has to deal with inserting a massive amount of religion and religious symbology into their nationalist movement for independence," Fred answered after apologizing to Jing-wei.

"Okay…."

"Despite the hero's sincere statements of the equality of all religions, his foregrounding of his faith constantly has indirectly made one religion more symbolic of national identity over others."

"Ahhh."

"And then there is his threat to fast to death if the country gets rid of the caste system or gives the 'untouchables' a separate electorate. He cemented into the post-colonial government that 'the hereditary principle as the eternal principle' and that 'to change it is to create disorder.' As we all know, dividing people between inferior and superior human beings is actually the source of disorder and violence that we are seeing everywhere such rigid hierarchies are implemented."

Fred had made a good point, in my opinion; however, it wasn't just ethnicity, caste, and religion that violently divided society.

Gender violence was also a severe issue that carried a legacy from the founders of Bharat's government. A few times, our team needed to negotiate an escort by an armed contingent of a local Tanechkist women's organization just to feel safe despite that group being labeled terrorists by the state. Again, the double-edged sword of mages not being legally able to defend themselves against non-mages in most cases made navigating the gut-wrenching realities of gender violence incredibly precarious. There were also non-mages on my team now.

Fred could only provide so much insight, so I needed more perspectives. I turned to Fang Shiyu, who often had a more traditional Wheelist perspective.

"Fang, I am having trouble understanding this report involving a few Bharat leaders sleeping naked with various women."

The young man lifted his wooden and metallic magetech prosthetic hand to his chin and tugged on a small beard he had been growing out.

"Well, I think their goal is to say that 'if I can resist temptation, so can you' from what I heard," he replied after looking at the document I passed him.

"And if the woman doesn't want to be part of the man testing his will?" I countered.

Fang didn't have a response to that. It wasn't something he had considered. A lot of his worldview focused on resisting temptations, but in a world in which women were temptations, their suffering was excused as 'understandable failures'.

"There has to be a better way than men gritting their teeth and women being modest to deal with the problem of gender violence," I groaned as I flipped through more reports while one of my four arms doodled absent-mindedly to ease my stress. Both Tanya and Sonnetto feared what could happen to them or their teammates anywhere in the world. During the Great War, Visha had more than once intervened to protect Tanya, who could be clueless about her vulnerabilities in various contexts. "Calamity, what's your opinion?"

"Well, you know I come from the American South," she replied. "Fighting for women is as ancient as slavery. The first time men took me seriously was the first time I took up a rifle. Power speaks more loudly than anything, and a gun takes a life as easily when a woman uses it as when a man does."

That was similar to the Tanechkist feminist's thoughts as well. Calamity took a moment to appreciate some silence as her words sunk in with the crowd around her. Despite leaving out the fact she also had innate magic, her words reflected the reality on the ground that they had been seeing.

"However, the frontier was a different time," she continued. "There wasn't a lot of law enforcement out there, and tanks and modern computation orbs hadn't been created. The DeCons [Democratic Confederates] back home can keep up the tradition of women's militias that kind of work when you aren't dealing with large-scale industrial military equipment. In more centralized situations like this, you need the state to be an extension of the will to protect everybody, including women. People need to feel the threat of retribution if they wrongly hurt anybody. The only reason why people take up arms to defend themselves is because they don't trust the gun of the state to be on their side."

Basically, one had to democratize law enforcement in a world where people wanted to live in a functional state that could more efficiently defend against imperial invasions. What that actually meant would be a complex issue to assign to the policy wonks who would synthesize the community voices we funneled into our report.

On the topic of women's militias, the DeFeds [Democratic Federationists] actually had them, too, and I had joined the one in Bde Óta Othúŋwe. It was fun for Tanya to teach people how to operate as an effective unit again. A women's militia wasn't an armed group of only women but rather a woman-inclusive group committed to the idea of a society without gender violence. Tanya remembered how many women in Germania had been forced into sex trafficking by the ring clubs that controlled a black market of food people needed to survive after the Great War. She wasn't about to let that happen again.

The people in Abya Yala also had no illusions that the Commonwealth would sit idly by as a new superpower arose that wasn't loyal to the imperialist powers in Europa. Even without the highly urban and industrialized East Coast that made up the current Unified States, Abya Yala had a lot of industrial power of its own and a massive amount of agriculture. Our West Coast kept us connected with Zhangzi and the Russy Federation, and we had forged tight partnerships with Central and South America, who appreciated having an anti-imperialist powerhouse in the region.

As for Bharat, it had joined the Non-Alignment Movement and did not take kindly to women's militias, which wouldn't have been necessary in a world in which women were safe. The modesty expectations and ascetic approaches weren't working. People needed to feel secure, or a group would come in to serve that unmet need. That was empathy-based market mechanisms at work.

There were a lot more things to think about here, so I called on our second new member of the now-global MI15.

"Jing-wei, what do you think about the situation we are tackling here in Bharat?"

"Well, I don't know how much this translates. As you all know, I left Zhangzi when General Secretary Tao consolidated power there. Just like Bharat nationalism became Gandhi and Gandhi nationalism, communism was Tao, and Tao was communism in my homeland. The General Secretary kicked out, imprisoned, or killed all the Angels, seasoned technocrats, and people who weren't fiercely loyal to his vision like we who were loyal to the Emperor."

"General Secretary Tao sounds awful like a Dzhugashvili 2.0 to me," Masquerade commented. "But Gandhi very much did not take the same path as Dzhugashvili."

"You are right in some respects, but let me finish this detour," Jing-wei replied as she floated around to proudly give the findings of her investigation. "Tao, like Dzhugashvili, was grappling with rampant sectarianism. He wanted to unite our country while it was in crisis, and his cultural revolution is his plan to do that."

"Yeah, but that 'my way or the highway' thinking results in a lot of plum-dumb policy decisions that can kill countless people," Calamity opined as she leaned back into her chair and fought an urge to put her feet on the table. The chairs they had were pretty comfy, and the table was lower to the ground than American ones. "You can't just make everyone think the same way, and I abhor using violence to make that happen."

"You know I am not a fan of Tao, who was ousted from the Emperor's side," Jing-wei said as she pointed at her report. "Okay. How about this issue on page two? As you can see, we have a leadership nepotism problem in Bharat, too. Just like Zhangzi has the Long Marchers loyal to Tao and their 'princeling' children taking a large portion of the leadership cadre, Bharat has a lot of politicians and business people using family names and ties as well as leveraging caste to get into positions of power."

In essence, an aristocracy of revolutionary leadership and those in the preexisting upper castes were formed. It was an issue in almost every post-revolutionary government, including the early Unified States that spurned its more radical Thomas Payne and institutionalized planter aristocracy that subordinated women, excluded the landless from voting, and enslaved a whole class of people. All of that is based on the fiction that some people are superior to other people and, therefore, deserve more political power, autonomy, and rights. Fighting against that fiction had resulted in a bloody civil war, which I ideally did not want to happen in Bharat.

Thinking about the Zhangzi situation specifically, I saw a huge issue in how its new government allowed people to hold multiple positions simultaneously, which one could and inevitably abuse to commit fraud, issue misleading reports, consolidate power, and become a dictator. It was Internal Controls 101 that did not allow that to happen. The lack of effective controls in Old Federation copycats gave the Iron Law of Oligarchy free reign to generate out-of-control, power-tripping dictators. I blame their contrarian governmental structures and their naive trust in their fellow working class for believing they didn't need the innovations of modern governments to prevent corrupt dictatorships. It was like thinking that if a person merely socialized their farm, it would make that leader above the corruption of wealth and a safe person to entrust ruling the entire country, which just so happens to include the now state-owned farm.

That being said, Bharat did not follow the ML model of a socialist state. Hence, hammering the issue of the tone from the top would only be part of the story. Structural differences between their governments had borne themselves out through meaningfully different corruption issues throughout the levels of Bharat's government compared to other socialist countries, as evidenced in our findings.

Still, I would have to tackle the issue of the charismatic leader, as Agent Ho recommended. Situations like these were why living saints and god-like figures were such a problem. No one was perfect, even Gandhi. Just as dehumanizing people as 'Untouchables' causes horrors, so does dehumanizing people as saintly heroes can create horrors too. Living, in reality, depended on grappling with the very human limits of our understanding. The abstraction of Heroes creates this unreality that some people are above such limits, and following them will also bring us out of our human limits. It also excused consolidating power into a superhuman persona who 'had all the answers'.

'Honestly, everyone should be forced to meet their heroes like I have had in this life. It is very eye-opening,' Tanya commented wryly.

Much coffee was had as we planned our arrests of suspected mages under our jurisdiction and wrote our report. In many ways, the report resembled audit opinion but of a country instead of a public corporation. It details organizational best practices, identifies material weaknesses in internal controls, and diving into cases of fraud, governmental malpractice, and crimes against humanity, which I wished countries and corporations would not do. We just had to word our report way more carefully than Fred or Calamity would in order to be heard.

Luckily, my Tanya half had plenty of experience with delicately worded emails in her past life. I needed to do lots of writing and compiling my team's reports as well as those of the local experts that night. I would just have to make sure I didn't bury the message too deep in indirect language.

'Wait, we are not doing it this way,' Sonnetto interrupted, disharmonizing my thoughts. 'We can't just go from championing a thorough and honest investigation of the Silver Legion's crimes to beating around the bush here, honey.'

'That's because it is easy to criticize the Silver Legion,' Tanya claimed from her mental workstation. 'We don't have to convince the Silver Legion that what they did was wrong. Just the public.'

'Obviously, it is easier to tell people that others were the villains in the story. We all know one likes being told they are wrong, but someone has to say it.'

'Sonnetto, are you, perchance, a bit biased here?'

'If standing up for the victims is wrong, then I don't mind being wrong.'

'Sonnetto, I can feel your rage. I literally know how you feel and how it is affecting me, too, but we have to be pragmatic here. We can't just get polemical.'

'We also can't be moderate when it comes to justice,' the white-haired officer challenged with some fire in her crimson eyes.

'And if that justice results in us not only being unheard but diminishing our ability to do justice in the future by creating a rift between Interpol and this massive country, then what? We get the shallow satisfaction of feeling morally superior while accomplishing nothing?'

'Tanya, do you have a solution that will allow our report to be taken seriously, elevate the unheard to the heard so the harm is front and center, and not cause tensions to rise to impossible-to-manage levels? Because right now, I think you are the biased one. Biased by your fear of the rejection and condemnation of others, which prevents you from taking the actions you should.'

I could feel a headache coming as my two halves had one of their rare fights. Each had some firmly held opinions about religion, confrontation, and politics. They didn't hate each other for their differences. In fact, they had a long history of challenging each other, hence how Tanya would write her responses to Sonnetto copious journals when they were still two individuals.

In the end, they decided on a compromise of having a thorough, more direct account that made clear what the injustice was, like what Sonnetto preferred. Still, they thoroughly checked for biases from their various sources to avoid having glaring ignorance there that would be immediately dismissed, which soothed Tanya's ever-present fears of causing retaliation if her very human limits and flaws became visible. The result was a 'truth to power' synthesis.

One did not need to lean on polemics when the facts spoke for themselves. Political posturing can hide reality, but putting that reality in people's faces tore through the rhetoric and got things moving in a direction that stopped the violence. That was why the reporting on the Blacks and Tans' gross abuses of power in Eirland had shamed the Albish government into disbanding the RIC. Tanya wanted reality-based solutions that did not lean on unreliable emotions, and Sonnetto wanted justice-based solutions that did not understate the harm done to the marginalized. They both believed their new approach reasonably might accomplish that.

With the report disagreement settled, they got back to work.

'You know what I like most about our new body?' Tanya commented.

'Other than how cool we look?' Sonnetto replied with a smirk while cuddling with her love in soul space.

'Well, yes, and then some, but I am being more practical.'

'Okay, what is so nice about how we look?'

'We have these four arms. It is just like having multiple monitors again. Two hands can type while two hands can hold up reports or get coffee without interrupting our flow.'

'That takes a lot of focus and multitasking,' Sonnetto pointed out, rubbing her chin on Tanya's head.

'Well, we can do it together, obviously. We have both been working on these cases.'

'Can we get two paychecks then?'

"Not doing that because it causes too many legal headaches. Been there, done that."

'Putting that aside, why don't we celebrate tonight?' the white-haired officer made of soul-stuff suggested while flitting her hand through Tanya's hair. 'We are both stressed and should take some leisure time.'

Well, I knew I wasn't going to get much sleep tonight. However, there was only so much a person who was also two could do, which brought back another issue to my mind.

'Should we try dating someone else?' Tanya asked. She had brought it up before when they were checking out the local GLBT scene in Bde Óta Othúŋwe.

'I… I still need more time to think about it,' Sonneto replied. While they both shared in each other's feelings, the woman who liked to paint cared about the emotional side of relationships. She didn't want to rush into relationships, especially with Tanya being still on the mend from what the Silver Legion had done to her.

Myself, Sonata... I… I would have to wait until my mind was in agreement.

Meanwhile, we all tried to relax and have a good night. I played around with my Mandate powers to change my form a little bit. Like putting on make-up without a mirror, it was easy to mess it up. My Tanya half kept getting worried that people would notice a change and then judge me for what I did with my form.

---

Bde Óta Othúŋwe, Democratic Federation of Abya Yala - 15th of May, 1954

Our friends' children gathered around the television as a Charlie Laplin movie played in the background.


View: https://youtu.be/J7GY1Xg6X20?si=RrLfMtBT1xOAd4el

"Dinner will be made shortly," Visha called out as I started placing plates and dishes on the table.

Two kids running through me were playing around the house. By through me, I meant literally through me. Having limited no collision on command had its benefits, especially when you didn't want to drop the pot of ghormeh sabzi all over the floor, which those kids just tracked mud through.

"I got it," Matheus stated as he got a towel and got to cleaning up the mess. The neighbor apologized and got the children to put their shoes outside.

One thing led to another that evening. Dinner was had. We celebrated a birthday, singing Tavalod. Through this all, I felt happy. Paradise was other people, I thought as I glanced around the table.

There was still much to do. There was an empty chair next to Calamity where Mary Canary should be sitting. We still needed to find a way to bring her home without disrupting the delicate power balance between Europa and the Russy Federation.

As I sat there, passing the time away, telling stories to all those who could listen, I felt a familiar tug from my connection with Elya.

According to her, the situation with Himmler was still in the air depending on who the President of Germania awarded the chancellorship. Our Silver Legion report had damaged the credibility of fascist movements, including the national socialists in Germania. Elya liberally leaned on my White Silver identity behind closed doors with my permission to help lobby things away from disaster.

The worst-case scenario was I had to go into Europa and repeat what I had done with the Silver Legion. With Europa more united than ever, that could not only result in WWII breaking out between Western Europa and their many enemies but also in the first time arcanium bombs were used for war, which would likely be at the start of the conflict. What does one do to stop Himmler if he gets his hands on functional arcanium bombs? How does Interpol hold any leader accountable if they have weapons of mass destruction?

I absolutely wanted to avoid getting into the habit of tapping into the full potential of my powers to do regime changes. The reason was not so much the temptation of power, but the fact that it would both make the world fear me too much, put me in a position where my peaceful life was gone once again, and cede more of my individuality to the will of the masses. I also had no desire to be emperor of the world.

After dinner, we went to the park. It was still light out and the children wanted to play some more.

Nearby, I laid down on a folding chair, slightly away from the rest of the group. There, I found my balance between my need for space to think as myself and my need to be with others in their lives. A stand had some water for me to drink and James Baldwin's new book Giovanni's Room. Calamity Amb hummed the iconic melody of All Men Are Brothers, occasionally singing the lyrics in either Albish or Germanian as her long strides carried her quickly from task to task around the picnic area.

Before me was a scene of peace with my coworkers, family, and neighbors, which was my kind of paradise. This was only possible with other people, and you couldn't be with others if you stood above them. A dog came up to play with me that reminded me of Rudersdorf's massive St. Benard, and as I ruffled its ears, Elya sent me another message from across the globe.

'Sonata, I just got word. It's finally time. No one is left but him.'

Well, my long-time friend and current superior delivered once again.

---

A Warehouse in Western Persia - 22nd of May, 1954

Ding. Scratch. Scratch. Ding.

Richard Diamond frowned. His last can of fruit did not have a bit of sweet sustenance left. Without his allies, who had all been turned into the mysterious Sally W., he was flummoxed. How does a rich person get food without buying it?

Looking around his warehouse of computations orbs, he had a fortune of weapons but a lack of food. Perhaps he could negotiate for some more grub from that Saddam-Something that Diamond was giving arms to in exchange for ousting the communist puppet from Western Persia. He wasn't exactly sure how the poors got food, given how they couldn't function without geniuses like him to organize them. Sometimes, Diamond wondered how they even breathed without a rich person reminding them to.

The businessman had been in Western Persia for quite a while. He was working with some goons he hired to assist with the CIA's mission to destroy independent democracy wherever it dared to sprout in the Middle East. Kermit Hoosevelt's strategy of arming the much preferable theocratic fascists had worked in East Persia, and the CIA had decided to continue such projects in Western Persia on behalf of the Silver Legion's government-in-exile.

Diamond had even lost twenty pounds, roughing it out in what he believed was called the Bactria region. Now that superabundance had made the poors fat, thin was back in for the rich. The man was sure that he would get applauded for losing weight by his friends if he had any.

His unpaid intern for life [the Oracle] in the corner sat there smiling like he had seen something wonderful.

"Oracle, what is my future?" Diamond inquired. "And stop smiling like that. It creeps me out."

The Divinity of Time just smiled on. "The Diamond shall get what he most deserves, and one you have oft-praised and royalty shall deliver it to you."

That sounded good.

Suddenly, one of his hired goons came in, tugging on the arm of some woman in his arms.

"Hey, Boss," the thug shouted. "I found this little koni snooping around. What do you want me to do with her?"

Diamond turned away from one of the crates containing a tri-core computation orb and went up to see the woman. She was a mutt.

He towered over the woman. His thin shoulders and lithe build made Diamond not much of a brawler. That was what he had thugs for.

"So what is an alloyed poor like you doing here?" Diamond questioned snidely.

The thug grabbed her chin and directed her attention to him. With a better look at her, the tall entrepreneur could not see anything remarkable about her. She was neither someone he knew nor some blue-blooded royal. He would know. He had met most of them at some point.

The woman did not respond to their provocations.

"What? Are you deaf and dumb?"

Again, she did respond. Her expression seemed almost bored, as if she felt absolutely no danger in the situation. Instead, her unremarkable brown eyes took in the room. Her mouth moved as if she were talking, but no sound came out. Then, Diamond could barely feel a faint mana pulse as she locked on the crate with the tri-core. Her mouth turned ever so slightly into a smile.

"That isn't—"

Before Diamond could finish, Persian, Zhangzi, and Federation MI officers burst into the warehouse.

The man toppled backward and sprained his wrist as he hit the ground hard. It was like the whole world had crashed down upon him. Without a weapon and his thugs being quickly apprehended, Diamond felt the measly power of being just one man.

The Oracle got up and left with the agents that had come to his rescue. The South Afrikan knew all of this was coming. Sally W., Ramona Mercer, and the Oracle had set him up, leading him with carrot and stick into a trap. But how? This was not how the world worked. This was not how this story was supposed to happen.

The mysterious woman, who could have been anyone, stood at his side. She was speaking to him, but her words were still completely inaudible. Her words could have been anything.

What the tycoon did know was that this was the end.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

Book One Timeline of Relevant Events:

• 1930s
  • Europa:
    • The Great War ended with the Germanian Empire receiving a conditional surrender, which included the Kaiser stepping down.
    • Visha rejects Tanya's confession of love, and Matheus adopts the young former commander into his family, who teaches her how to program computation orbs.
    • Tanya, Visha, and Elya form a Freikorp (mercenary group) to keep the 'peace' as Germania creates its new government. Agent Nichts is Tanya's way of pretending to be the perfect law enforcement mercenary. Together, they stop the January Uprising and the putsch of the Kaiser's Men.
    • Tanya accidentally kills a brainwashed Warren Grantz, with whom Visha was engaged. Visha and Tanya go their separate ways. Matheus gets brainwashed but is trapped in that state as the hypnotist responsible, Figmund Sreud, goes into hiding.
    • Shortly after Germania reformed its government, Hans von Zettour, Elya, and Tanya worked together to create Interpol to go after rogue mages, organized crime, and terrorist groups.
  • Middle East
    • The Mandate of Power, Alexander Magnus, goes on a war of conquest, claiming most of Arabia and Persia for Magna Rumeli.
    • Alexander takes the Bactria Princess Roxanne for his first wife and bears with her a child, which he names after himself.
  • Americas
    • The Silver Legion takes power in the Unified States and quickly restructures the country into a fascist plutocracy.
    • The prison population in the Unified States balloons, and the country starts systematically targeting socialists, communists, and other anti-plutocrat radical groups.
    • The other countries in the Americas started having to aggressively resist the oligarch-controlled CIA and monopolists, which have begun instigating profit-driven regime changes.
    • American weapon manufacturer Richard Diamond kidnaps the family of the Mandate of Beginnings, Mary Canary.
• 1940s
  • Middle East
    • Richard Diamond uses Mary Canary's family as leverage to get her to kill Emperor Alexander when he is in one of his regular cursed moments of weakness.
    • The Rumelian Cassander assassinates Empress Roxanne, her mother-in-law, and her son during the chaos in order to seize power in Magna Rumeli.
    • The US and Europa balkanizes the Middle East. Laurence "Masquerade" Drake assists the nationalists in their struggle for independence, but only for that movement to be betrayed by the Albish and Francois leaders.
    • Cassander issues a red notice to get the Mages of Interpol to stop human experiments being conducted by one of his political rivals. There, the Interpol officer Tanya unwittingly finds the reanimated corpse of Empress Roxanne, who gains consciousness due to Tanya's still unknown Mandate of the Self. Tanya dubs this new person Sonnetto and invites her to live with her in Germania, where they live together.
  • Afrika
    • Francois Dzayer revolts against the Francois Republic, leading to a brutal and bloody conflict.
  • Asia
    • Zhangzi makes headway in expelling the foreign Uruan Dynasty and Akinese invaders with help from the Russy Federation and Tanechka's Angels. The three major Zhangzi liberation factions are the imperialists, nationalists, and communists. The Red Turban faction under Zhu Chongba is victorious but his hold over Zhangzi is very weak.
    • Fang Shiyu escapes Zhangzi because a martial artist and his followers are out to kill him. He eventually joins the Mages of Interpol in order to improve his martial arts ability.
• The Main part of the Story (1950s onward with chapter titles)
  • The Germanian Candidate - Amber "Calamity" Canary joins the Mages of Interpol to flee the Silver Legion and not be forced to assist in fascist violence. The Mages of Interpol 15 (MI15) defeat Figmund Sreud and free Matheus from his hypnotic trance.
  • Tanechka's Angels - Masquerade flubs a mission involving stopping communist propagandists known as Angels who are trying to expose the Albish Empire by targeting the Albish Royal Museum. The Commonwealth suspects MI15 are not loyal to Europa.
  • Woman on Fire - Liliya Ivanova Tanechka uses the release negotiations of her Angels to force Interpol to investigate Francois Republic's war crimes in Dzayer, particularly involving a Covert Corp paramilitary group. One thing leads to another, and Tanya's Mandate powers start to manifest more visibly.
  • Silver is Forever, so Die Another Day - Richard Diamond and Mary Canary kidnap Tanya, who escapes but without her Type-95 (good riddance).
  • Doctor Jones and the Search for La Destripadora - After pissing off the Francois Republic, MI15 decides it's best to go on a workcation around the world. Their first stop is Argentum, where they meet a Mandate named Khuyana Gonzalez, who becomes their friend by the end of the trip. Tanya, however, fully transforms into her soul form, which reflects a mix of Japanese and Germanian origins.
  • The Hustle at the Zhangzi Showdown - Richard Diamond orchestrates a situation in order to isolate Emperor Zhu and Empress Ma from outside help and to get the US a foothold in the country.
  • Gone with the Snow (it gets far more complicated from here on)
    • Richard Diamond has the Red Guard and Zhangzi Nationalists attempt to assassinate Emperor Zhu. His real goal is to get Empress Ma to hand over Zhangzi to a US puppet.
    • The Angel Demiguichi Akira stops Empress Ma before that can happen, instead transferring power to the Popular Front faction.
    • Mary Canary kills Avgust Zimin, the Mandate of Change. Now she is burdened by not only the memories of Avgust and Alexander, but the influence of their souls and the curses of their mandates.
    • Tanya and Sonnetto fuse into Sonata for the first time.
  • Kaines' Second Chance
    • Evan Jude Kaines learns from American socialists that the Unified States plans on eventually invading Europa. He uses this information to get the Commonwealth to start working against the Unified States.
  • In a Legion of All Her Own
    • Calamity flees to Zhangzi to escape being deported to the Unified States and receive treatment to make her ageless body mature into an adult.
    • Fang goes to Zhangzi to support MI12 and protect his friend, Emperor Zhu.
    • Masquerade goes into hiding because the Allied Kingdom knows he and his girlfriend have become compromised.
    • Cassander takes Sonnetto and uses her to become Emperor of Western Persia with the Unified States.
    • Tanya gets arrested by Mary Sue, and Tanya gets given to the Unified States, which brainwashes her into being their weapon of mass destruction and goddess to keep the populists in check.
    • Mary Canary and her family are handed over to the Commonwealth.
  • When Power Comes at the End of a Gun
    • The Unified States had a socialist revolution overthrowing the Silver Legion.
    • President Yockey escapes before the Silver Legion's government collapses.
    • Sonnetto almost dies, so Tanya permanently fuses with her to save her soul. Their fusion form, Sonata, wields the Mandates of Purpose and Self. She assists with the revolution in so far as she is acting as an Interpol officer with a grudge.
  • It Ends with the Truth
    • Sonata, Matheus, and Calamity move to the Democratic Federation of Abya Yala (formerly the western portion of the Unified States) because Germania is becoming increasingly fascist.
    • MI15 wrote a report on the Silver Legion emphasizing what fascism is in order to influence the world to steer away from it.
    • MI15 has become a globally focused team and has expanded its membership to include non-mage field agents.
    • Though Dzayer has gotten its independence, the leaders of the Francois Republic have decided to test its new superweapon - the arcanium bomb - in southern Dzayer. The Francois Republic has become the first country to develop weapons of mass destruction. Note that Mandates are functionally superweapons as well.
    • Germania's election leaves no clear party in charge. President Ropen of Germania has to decide who the next chancellor will be, and his decision could affect the entire world.
    • Sonata and Interpol finally bring Richard Diamond and his allies to justice.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

The Democratic Federation of Abya Yala (and the World Federation movement)

Military:

• Centralized military following siege socialist pragmatism in regards to preparing for armed conflict with Europa.
• Citizen Militias are encouraged while Europa-funded rebel groups try to get a foothold in the country.

Economy:

• Dual-Track Pricing
  • Federal and state governments set quotas for essential goods but allow socially owned firms to sell goods at international market prices.
• Farming Co-ops
  • Individual families are trained to maintain and use heavy farm machinery for their communities.
  • Families work together on each of their assigned lots throughout the year.
  • The federal government sends experts out to communities to provide advice on best agricultural practices and to hear from the community about their innovations so that other communities may learn, too.
  • The federal government advises on what crops are most advantageous to produce under current market conditions, but farmers can pick their crops for themselves.
• State-Owned Enterprises
  • Mostly in the military, natural resources, housing, healthcare, and agriculture
  • It was relatively easy to transition to the socialist model because these industries were already market-controlling monopolies under the Silver Legion's plutocratic economy.
• Worker councils for most firms and small businesses. Individual ownership of small shops is allowed if there are no employees.
• Major Economic Struggles
  • Commodity Obsession - with people's needs met, people's wants have become their needs. Even though mass transportation is more ecological and cost-effective, everyone wants cars.
  • Essential Good Ratcheting - the price of power, healthcare, and high-quality housing cannot be increased without popular protest, even if the federal government's budget struggles to maintain them at historical prices.
  • Rural-Urban Divide - Attracted by lifestyles afforded to urban professionals, there is a demographic shift towards big cities. This leaves regions left aside for farming co-opts with insufficient population. Reforms to stop this migration are highly contentious, as locking people down in farming communities would create a class division between farmers and urbanites.
  • Managing Incentives and Worker Discipline - with people more free to pursue their own projects and unmotivated to work longer hours without greater incentives, people slack off, and the worker councils are rife with time sheet fraud and conspiracy. Reforms to address these problems have leaned more toward promoting commodity markets and adding more performance-driven incentives and hierarchical structures to worker councils.
  • Sanctions and adverse economic actions from imperialist countries (discussed more in the international relations section).

Government Structure:

• Governing Ideology - World Federadationism
  • It seeks to put the entire world in a single international socialist framework.
  • This ideology attempts to solve nation-state wars by eventually unifying the entire world, and it is contrasted with democratic confederalism, which sees breaking down nation-states into autonomous townships as the superior solution.
  • It sees its government as modular, where new member states can join it freely without coercion.
• Bicameral Central Legislature
  • Resides over the whole Democratic Federation
  • The People's House is a citizen's assembly (sortition) that advises and votes on policy as well as holds the Senate and administrative agencies accountable. Stakeholders for region-specific policies can be added to subcommittees to assist with deliberations.
  • The Senate is composed of the Founders' Party members, technocrats, and representatives of the regional workers' council. The Senate also contains the heads of central administrative agencies.
• Regional Governments
  • They must abide by the Central Legislature and World Federationist governing philosophy but otherwise have discretion for their regions.
  • The Democratic Federation of Abya Yala will become a regional government when another region joins.
• Democratic Confederation
  • These are autonomous townships that freely associate with one another.
  • They mostly consist of minor nationalities and adherents to non-statist ideologies like libertarianism, primitivism, and anarchism.
  • They have robust community militias and have protections from the overreach of the Democratic Federation.
  • The Democratic Federation committed to investing in autonomous zones related to historically marginalized and wronged populations, providing material support in building up infrastructure and industry while letting the community lead in how that support is utilized. The goal is to reach parity.
  • The Federation includes those in the Confederation in decision-making even though the federation is mostly uninvolved in the confederation.
  • Tensions exist over when and how the Federation can get involved if a Confederation township commits crimes against humanity and other gross moral ills.

International Relations (includes movements, not just nation-states):

• The Pan-Afrikan Movement
  • This is most closely aligned with the Abya Yala model of World Federationism. There is a belief that joining forces with Abya Yala will create a major counterweight to imperialism.
  • The Francois Republic gaining arcanium bomb capabilities has made major changes in the world balance perilous as the Francois Republic has invested interest in keeping its CFA-Franc zone under its thumb.
  • The Francois Republic has artificially balkanized its Afrikan holdings and required them to negotiate individually instead of collectively in order to maintain dominance in the region, but this also means that there aren't many organic cultural-linguistic nation-states in the continent, further supporting the Pan-Afrikan Movement.
• The Aztec Republic and Maya Democratic Confederation
  • Unlike the Democratic Federation of Abya Yala, the Aztec Republic (formerly the Empire) has a hostile relationship with its own Democratic Confederation faction.
  • The Aztec Republic has traumas related to the Silver Legion's genocides in their region and fears joining the World Federation will force them to grant greater autonomy and return more land to the Maya.
  • The country works as the middleman for most trade between Abya Yala and the socialist side of the world, and it leverages that role to reap enormous benefits through massive tariffs and negotiation power.
  • They received large reparations from the Unified States and some from Abya Yala, which sees itself as needing to share the burden of the guilt of what happened to the Aztecs.
• Anti-Revisionist Marksist-Levinists (MLs) and Marksist-Levinist-Taoists (MLTs)
  • MLs and MLTs are most prevalent in most of the world outside of Europa and Afrika.
  • They have too many differences with World Federationists to get along unless they have a common enemy. They both see the other as the lesser evil to capitalism, imperialism, and fascism.
  • These groups are typically more culturally conservative than World Federationists, particularly on women's rights and GLBT issues. They see the urban cosmopolitan progressivism of World Federationists as bourgeois. These ideologies focused primarily on economic rights and national independence rather than social realities.
  • MLs and MLTs lean stronger towards nationalism not only as a praxis of revolution but also as a way of measuring escaping imperialism and establishing self-sufficiency. In contrast, internationalism is seen as too prone to liberal betrayal and movement disintegration as revolutionary energies go in too many directions.
  • MLs and MLTs tend towards monoculturalism, which can cause what started as a national independence movement to turn into suppressing ethnic minorities within their new nation-states.
• Tanechkists (including Demiguichists and the Angels as a whole)
  • Their organizations exist as the feminist alternative to the masculine-dominated ML and MLT organizations.
  • Yalans tend to find working with Tanechkists much more palatable to their ML and MLT cousins.
  • Tanechkists have effective strategies to access hard-to-reach communities due to splitting the social front from the armed insurgency, which gives communities a face not associated with the violent aspects of the revolution.
  • They are much better at humanizing socialist causes to liberal audiences who lack a lot of the historical and social contexts behind why these movements have such momentum. In other words, they emphasize winning the narrative war with imperialist media, which strives to sanitize and justify its terrorizing of communities across the world. Tanechkists strive to get not only domestic populations but also the imperialist military to turn against imperial projections of oppression.
  • Imperialist countries have become extremely hostile to the Angels' propaganda and have implemented practices to keep their soldiers focused on completing the missions assigned to them without becoming disenchanted or persuaded.
• Francois Republic and Commonwealth
  • They barely recognize Abya Yala, encouraging both armed insurrection against the World Federation government as well as the reunification with the Eastern Unified States.
  • These two countries imposed illegal sanctions on the fledgling country, and the Albish Empire used the Royal Navy to blockade some of its major ports. Much of the Silver Legion's navy was seized by the Albish Empire along with the Pacific bases without Abya Yala's ability even to negotiate that point.
  • There is a brewing proxy conflict over Kuba, where the Francois Republic and Albish Empire intend to put a military base. The Tanechkist Angels have discovered plans that Francois Republic wants to develop an arcanium missile and silo it on Kuba as a way to encourage Abya Yala to become an exploitable private equity market again.
  • Abya Yala has reasonably large strategic oil reserves and produces most of the commodities and cash crops that Europa wants. The loss of these has created shock waves in Europa, which has to balance between public outcry to regain access to preferred American goods and a strategic desire to crush a potential socialist superpower that could not only pull Afrika out from under them but suffocate capitalism out of existence by preventing imperial trade relations.
• Zhangzi and the Russy Federation
  • Neither had a navy to challenge the Albish Empire, which had become incredibly powerful after seizing most of the US naval assets, including bases. This greatly reduces the amount of support they can give their ally through the Aztec Republic.
  • Zhangzi is focused on recovering from the massive death toll from the second Zhangzi-Akinese War. The Albish Empire began expanding military bases on the Akitsuhima Dominion and Formosa, boxing in Zhangzi, forcing the country to be isolated as famines started to take place.
  • The Russy Federation is spread thin from supporting Brotskyists in Argentum and Ispagnia to feeding the starving people in Zhangzi to its own domestic struggles. The decentralization programs under Ivan Smirnov's predecessor, Brotsky, made the Federation less organized at dealing with emerging threats but more efficient locally.
  • The Russy Federation and Zhangzi have growing tensions as the former to weigh its commitment to Zhangzi, and the latter obviously will take it very personally if their Russy allies leave them in the lurch; however, Abya Yala's massive agricultural output allows it to send large amounts of food supplies to Zhangzi, preventing a permanent split occurring.
  • There is a strong desire to get Zhangzi's industrial base off the ground as fast as possible to help shove the Albish Empire back for all of them.
• Arabia, Persia, and Magna Rumeli
  • Since Europa is also stretched thin and doesn't have the military-industrial base to hold back the Red Wave everywhere, the communist movement in Magna Rumeli and the nationalist movements across Arabia and Persia have been widely successful.
  • While they cannot help Abya Yala directly, they definitely do not want the old Unified States coming back…ever.
  • The independent countries are de-balkanizing and forming tighter-knit collective bargaining over internationally strategic oil reserves. Not only is this putting huge pressure on the Albish Empire, which simply could not afford its navy without cheap oil, but it also directed the strategic oil reserves to anti-imperialists.
  • Arabia and Persia are also developing their navies, which, if allowed to happen, will turn them into one of the leading naval superpowers. Because of this, it is in their interest that Magnua Rumeli's communist revolution be successful, but it acts as an additional barrier to Western aggression in the region.
  • They have effectively forced Western Europa to the negotiating table with favorable terms for the growing anti-imperialist bloc.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

Previous Chapter Recap: It Ends with the Truth

• Sonata, Matheus, and Calamity move to the Democratic Federation of Abya Yala (formerly the western portion of the Unified States) because Germania is becoming increasingly fascist.
• MI15 wrote a report on the Silver Legion emphasizing what fascism is in order to influence the world to steer away from it.
• MI15 has become a globally focused team and has expanded its membership to include non-mage field agents.
• Though Dzayer has gotten its independence, the leaders of the Francois Republic have decided to test its new superweapon - the arcanium bomb - in southern Dzayer. The Francois Republic has become the first country to develop weapons of mass destruction. Note that Mandates are functionally superweapons as well.
• Germania's election leaves no clear party in charge. President Ropen of Germania has to decide who the next chancellor will be, and his decision could affect the entire world.
• Sonata and Interpol finally bring Richard Diamond and his allies to justice.

---

Cloak Town, South Afrika, July 1954

"Mpho, turn that off," Thabisa called out as she carved into the wood with the in. "I cannot focus."

"No, I want to listen. The ABC is about to talk about Abya Yala. This story is really important."

Thabisa placed called by her mana back into her body and placed down the small mythril knife. There was no point arguing with Mpho.

Everyone in the world who had time to think was talking about Abya Yala. Like the Russy Federation, Bharat, and Zhangzi before it, the story of how the oppressed peoples in the Unified States rose up, defeated the Silver Legion, and created their own governments inspired people around the world to try to recreate that success story.

"We next turn to the Unified States," the Albish broadcaster began in a flat, professional tone with perfect pronunciation. "Leaders across Europa, including the Albish PM Catcherlain and Francois President Billiards, have just come out of a meeting and have issued statements condemning the Silver Legion for its unique, unprecedented crimes against humanity. Billiards has stated that nowhere in the world has such atrocities ever been seen or enacted and that the Silver Legion represents something wholly unhuman that everyone in the Republic should react towards with revulsion. Both leaders emphasized the need to work with the Unified States and to encourage the revolutionary forces who have seized most of the country to reintegrate into the legitimate and democratic successor government that continues on the East Coast.

"For this, we at the ABC checked in with our experts for their analysis of the situation. Our chief ABC economist, Robin Lions, predicts that the economic growth in the communist-occupied territory west of the Happalachia is not sustainable without capitalist reforms and that businesses should look for opportunities within Europa in its colonies instead. Our foreign correspondent Robert Yelsin told us this morning that he believes the presence of the White League, Swordist Front, and Germanian American Bund resistance groups in the region proves that Yalan's rule is illegitimate and that Europa would be wise to send as many arms as possible to support these groups before we have another violent warmongering rogue state on the world stage like the Russy Federation under General Secretary Ivan Smirnov's administration.

"Prime Minister Catcherlain also voiced support for forming a united Europa against the red wave taking over their former colonies and causing the Albish and the Francois Republic to fall into global irrelevance. He stressed the importance of maintaining proper trade relations with former colonies through the principle of comparative advantage, which is why Europa stays the global center of industrial might and, by extension, the leader of the world. If resource-rich countries industrialize as the communists are trying to make them do, Catcherlain claimed, these former colonies will not need Europa's industrial sector anymore, devastating the global economy. Comparative advantage was why the Albish Colonial Office helped Bharat dismantle their inefficient manufacturing sector and steer them completely towards agriculture, given the former colony's advantage of having a year-round growing season. Chief economist Robins Lions tells the ABC that if countries want to grow their economy, they would be wise to avoid industrializing and focus entirely on improving their mining and agricultural sectors because free trade and comparative advantage will lift them out of poverty.

"Another big topic in all world leaders' minds is President Ropen's choice for the country's next chancellor, which is still in the air. Former Albish PM Winston Churbull has come out of retirement to write two letters praising Himmler's rise to national prominence. Churbull urges Ropen to quickly select Himmler because 'Europa needs to be more united than ever against the International Heartists and their communist plot before it is too late and these conviving monsters finally destroy Western Civilization.' Himmler and Churbull have both notably publicly encouraged more countries to start using poison gas as a high-tech and more humane alternative to shelling uncivilized tribes and the Bolsheviks to get the world back to civilized order. Churbull has proven the effectiveness of poison gas against rebellious Arabs, Persians, and Russy during his political career.

"However, after MI15's League of Nations report on the Silver Legion, there has been a growing public backlash to fascist parties in Europa. Catcherlain and Billards have urged Ropen to pick anyone other than Rudolph Himmler, claiming that another fascist leader will undermine European unity and might provoke the Russy Federation into invading. Churbull responded to Catcherlain's policy earlier today at a press conference, claiming that those at number 10 should know better than trust anything coming from the LoN, which Churbull characterized as being little more than a front organization for the communists in Moscva and General Secretary Ivan Smirnov. Our foreign policy expert Robert Yelsin has a similar view, telling us that the idea that Himmler becoming Chancellor will cause another world war is simply propaganda straight from the Politburo in Moscva. Yelsin went on to tell us that, just as Bussolini brought harmony back to an Ildoa on the verge of anarchy and vanquished the Reds, Himmler will be what Democracy in Europa needs to protect us all from communist totalitarianism — that people, including the Prime Minister, just need to give Himmler a chance and not pressure President Ropen.

"While President Ropen's decision on the next chancellor remains uncertain, what isn't uncertain is the League of Nations' decision to finally hold the MI15 agent Amber Canary accountable for the murder of a non-mage in America. Agent Canary will be facing a hearing next week in Germania—"

"Okay, I think that is enough news for us," Thabisa stated as she turned off the radio. That was enough news for both of them. Listening to it too long would make any person who knew reality get sick.

Mpho grumbled in understandable frustration with ABC's coverage.

With ABC, one had to listen very carefully between the lines to determine what wasn't really happening since it rapidly became extraordinarily biased when Albish imperial interests were concerned. Every accusation was a confession from an imperialist. If they accused a group of being violent extremists, it was imperialists who were ramping up to do something both violent and extreme to that group. They first dehumanize and demonize so they can give themselves unlimited licenses for whatever means they deem necessary to achieve their national interests. There was a joke going around the pan-Afrikanists in Cloak Town that if an Afrikan even sneezed in the direction of imperialist power, the Francois or Albish would invade your country, replace your leader with their pick, and call it all an act of self-defense and noble-minded liberation. Oh, and they will expect you to thank them after they make off with all your diamonds.

"Are you really sure going to Germania is the best idea right now?" he muttered. "Can't we just go to Abya Yala or another place?"

"It is where Rex can get us," Thabisa countered. "There, you can get your operation, and then we will figure things out."

"Maybe we can to Abya Yala."

"Maybe. Stay tight, Mpho. I am going to finish this job for Rex, and we should have enough money not only for the trip but also to cover all our expenses for next year, including the surgery you need. I heard from Tobi that Berun has the best doctors. Good doctors who understand what you are going through."

That calmed Mpho a bit.

"Okay, I am headed out," she stated before kissing her former partner on the head, gathering her completed totems, gun, and mask, and moving to the door. They still loved each other, but it wasn't going to work out. They just weren't compatible romantically. "Don't remember to take the binding off. I don't want you hurting your ribs again. Tobi said if you can break them if you are not careful."

"I will be careful," the man replied. "Why can't I go with you? I can go in cat form. No one will even know."

"People will get suspicious if a cat goes into the bank."

"I will be sneaky. You know I can."

"And do what? Meow at the guards, scratch at the ankles of bankers."

"Thabisa, I can be helpful."

"Mpho, please, just let's do it my way this time. I know you don't like me doing things for you—"

"It is my life. I should be the one risking it for my sake, not you. You are a totem mage. You have a responsibility to keep your family line alive and safe."

Thabisa sighed. "I also have a say for what and for whom I fight. You cannot impose upon me tradition, but I hope you will listen to the wisdom I have. If not for your safety, for mine, please do not follow me to the heist. If you are around, I will be distracted and worried about your safety."

With that, the mage headed out, taking the train into the white side of Cloak Town. The train passed by playgrounds she had once played with the other kids before things started changing for the worse. Back then, all the kids were everyone's kids in Thabisa's old neighborhood. There wasn't as much of a legally constructed black-white divide in Cloak Town as there was now under the all-white National Party, who, shortly after the overthrow of the Unified States and gaining independence from the Albish Empire, rapidly started transforming South Afrika into something far, far more sinister. Now, bulldozers smashed the houses where indigenous populations had once lived to pave the way for new all-European communities. The National Party leadership sent the displaced non-white folks like her family far outside of the city to racially designated areas where they had to take three-hour or more train rides to get to the city to work. Spending time with one's family and children became hard for those who worked long hours in the city and had such taxing commutes.

Thabisa had been a good little girl once. She followed all the rules. The rules protected her and made sense. Now, the rules didn't protect her, and they didn't make sense. She didn't follow the rules anymore. Who would when they were designed to bind you and keep you in your place?

As she slipped into the bank, Thabisa activated her totems to grant her cheetah-like speed and reflexes and another totem that gave her voice the projection of an elephant. Before people could react, she had already pulled out the machine gun that Rex had given her. She wasn't there to kill anyone, but she would do anything to help Mpho. No matter how much Mpho changed, Thabisa would fight to protect him. That was their bond.

"This is a heist, everyone's hands in the air. Teller, get moving to the vault. Now!"

She zoomed around the room, making sure no one did any funny business. The teller took a bag and started doing what he was told.

Once enough money was had, Thabisa booked it. The South Afrikan MI team was closing in. She could feel it. An alleyway presented a chance to break the line of sight from her pursuers. Jumping into it suddenly, the bank robber pressed herself against the wall and activated her chameleon totem. It was the one she had been working on before the ABC broadcast. A swear almost escaped her lips as she realized it might not work properly due to how much she rushed it. Her skin shimmered as her body went completely still. If she didn't move, the inactive camouflage granted by the chameleon totem would be stronger.

Totems were far more versatile than computation magic but obviously couldn't blow up entire buildings like industrial-grade magic could. Obviously, you didn't need that kind of firepower unless you actually wanted to kill lots of people or other mages using computation orbs. Traditional magical knowledge like the alchemy practiced in Persia, the plant stuff in the Andes, or her totem magic, Thabisa believed, had the potential to surpass computation magic if mages like her just had the chance to develop it more instead of being pressured and sometimes forced into abandoning their knowledge and practices.

The MIs landed. These mages didn't serve the National Party but the League of Nations. In practice, this was a good thing for most non-mages, and a bad thing for most mages. It made the MIs a force of mages to keep the other mages in line with the powers at be. MIs didn't usually care if you were fighting for imperialists or fighting against them. They just cared if you had committed LoN-defined crimes and were a mage. Obviously, robbing a bank came with risks, but it was what Rex said would be the easiest way to get the cash they needed.

"Where did he go?" one of the MIs stated in an Eirish accent. She sounded nice but professional.

"According to an update I just got from dispatch, the perp is a woman in her 20s."

"Regardless, she couldn't be far. Bob, do you pick up anything?"

A man lifted a device from Zhangzi. His horns sparked with power. "I am not picking up anything."

Of course, he wasn't picking up anything. It wouldn't be the chameleon spell if it didn't obscure her mana completely. All mages but totem-users like Thabisa could not cast spells and hide from other mages. Good luck avoiding Zhangzi detecto-boxes (or whatever they actually were called) even if you were not casting spells.

Their leader, the Eirish-sounding woman, turned to look straight at where Thabisa hid. Had her totem failed? Was she visible in some way?

Thabisa could even feel the MI's breath on her skin; they were close to each other in the alleyway. One wrong move and the jig was up.

Klank

A bucket of water fell from a building and upon the MI, drenching her and causing her to swear up a storm. The other mages jumped up and started looking for the culprit but found nothing.

Once they were gone, Thabisa finally took in a deep breath.

"Meow."

Looking down, the bank robber saw Mpho in his cat form.

"You know assaulting an MI is a severe crime."

"Meow."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You saved my butt and were not in the way."

Now, it was time to get to Rex before they got caught by those MIs scouring the city for her.

---

Light Rail to the Airport in Bde Óta Othúŋwe - July 1954

"It is going to be alright," Matheus told the woman at his side. "You will figure out a plan like you always do, and we will get to the other side of this again."

Tanya and Sonnetto, which is to say Sonata, gazed out the window. Out in the streets of our new home, the people of Abya Yala busily scraped off "Whites Only" and other signs of segregation from the entrances of stores and public facilities. The world outside the light rail cabin seemed to be blooming with hope. Yes, plenty of people put signs with revolutionary slogans on their yards to prove they were not evil Legionists as they hid in their houses and shut their blinds. Still, Matheus cannot remember the last time he saw so much raw positive energy.

Inside the train, however, all things were nerves.

"It is okay," Calamity Amb lied as if she could banish what was plainly obvious — that Calamity was in handcuffs, being taken by force to Germania for killing a non-mage. "I reckon it was about time I paid the piper for what happened, and I don't think there is a court in the world that would blame me for what we did."

Sonata glanced back at her chosen sister but remained quiet in her thoughts. It was something she had been doing more and more these days. Tanya, for her countless talents, had never been a good judge of character or mood, but having fused with Sonnetto and gained the Mandate of Purpose, this new person was not as easily fooled. That was to say, Sonata knew Calamity was lying. Things would not be easy for Calamity Amb even if the courts exonerated her. It wasn't even clear if she would be tried in Germania or Francois Republic as there was a bit of a diplomatic spat about that, and the League of Nations was getting pressured to let the national governments handle Calamity's case.

Everyone continued sitting on the train, headed to the airport for a while in the cordoned-off cart, in frustrated silence until Matheus broke it.

"Tanya, I mean Son—"

"It is okay," Sonata finally broke her noncommunication.

Matheus grimaced at flubbing her name. It was hard. The Silver Mirror often showed him the person he wanted to see there instead of the new person who was actually there. How the mirror worked boggled his mind along with all this Mandate-Duality business.

"I cannot fail to notice it was you and not me who got arrested," Sonata continued. "I cannot not be worried, Amb."

During the Second American Revolution, Tanya and Amber had temporarily fused together and killed a non-mage despite not having the authority to do so. It got reported to the higher-ups, but no one was going to prosecute her. Only when Rudolf Himmler and his Legion-sympathetic allies challenged the League of Nations for their hypocrisy, threatening to have his party pull Germania out of the League of Nations if justice was not brought against Amber Canary.

No one could fail to see the double standard. Amber was a socialist-sympathetic Heartist. Tanya was a card-carrying capitalist with a kill count of communists that would make any fascist jealous. Himmler and his European allies definitely had a bias.

"Are we going to meet up with our family?" Sonata signed in an effort to get everyone's mind off the gloom.

"I…don't think that will be wise. Sara is, you know," — a proud member of Himmler's party. "She doesn't want you near the kids."

"Why?"

"She thinks you will make them…you know."

"I don't. Tell me."

Sonata was more angry than unaware. She wanted him to say it out loud. This fire was her inheritance from Sonnetto, who refused to let the truth die unspoken or unseen. As the white-haired officer had once told Matheus: 'To express is to reveal, and evil, once revealed, withers under scrutiny, which bores down on it with all the contempt it deserves.'

Honestly, Sonnetto had gotten progressively blunt and enraged in her outbursts whenever Matheus joined in on their soul conferences. It brought back memories of the period right after the Great War when Tanya had so much unexplored emotional baggage that had caught the entire 203rd off guard. Still, the man had sworn he would not abandon his commander or her family.

"Tell me, Matheus."

"She thinks you will contaminate her kids."

"Contaminate them how?"

"Make them like you."

Rage coiled Sonata's features before getting repressed. The man found himself stuck between loyalties. He loved his sister as a brother should, but Matheus kept Sara and Tanya/Sonata away from each other.

He tried to salvage the situation. "She said you are allowed to come to the get-together with me only if you don't talk to any of the children."

"Why does she get to tell me what to do?"

"They are her kids."

"And everyone else's. Does Fred agree with her? What about Clara, Bodo, and Georg?"

"They think that it would be best if you don't come over during our stay, and my brother Bodo wouldn't like that you are… you know."

"I don't. Enlighten me."

He hated that Sonata acted like this when she was angry. It made every conversation unpleasant. Matheus missed when he could just play cornhole or something with the neighbors and not have to navigate his family's prejudices, which remained invisible so long as nothing triggered them…or rather could be ignored so long as they were not directed towards anyone one cared about.

"If you don't come as Tanya…the old Tanya…he will be very nasty to you. I am sorry. He has always been like this."

"I liked Bodo. We went fishing together several times. The thing he cares about is this?" She lifted one of her extra arms. "I haven't ceased to be family just because I am a fusion now or look different."

How do I say my brother is racist without saying he is racist?

Matheus did not know the answer to that question.

The Old Tanya would have probably just pretended to be the Old Tanya without complaint, that is to say, becoming the embodiment of the idealized imperial female mage. Even with the Silver Mirror curse that obscured her appearance to those who did not slip past it during a moment of cognitive dissonance, the current Sonata would struggle to stomach going back to Tanya's former self for long.

The excerpt from Plato's Republic reading came to mind. Professor Angela Davis had assigned Matheus the text as the course he was taking at Twin Cities University. In the section known as the 'Allegory of the Cave', leaving that cave and all the lies were depicted as painful for a person at first due to the brightness of the sun. Still, once one adjusts, can one even fathom going back into it once one has finally escaped the shadows and deceit? If one returned to the cave and tried to free others from the madness, Plato said the other people in the cave would attack them. Matheus thought Sonata's situation was like that, too. Now that she was open about her authentic self, there was no going back to living that safe fiction, and the people with their heads so filled with shadows would tear her to pieces for living her truth.

"Why don't you go to Golden City Bar and spend some time with your friends while I am at the family get-together?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Himmler's thugs shut it down. The SA asshole Dorm, who went to the Golden City bar frequently, got kicked out of Himmler's party after the newspapers made from of Dorm and his gay friends one too many times. I told that asshole Dorm the last time we visited that Himmler wasn't actually interested in a Bolshevik Revolution, but that is what I get for sitting on my hands and not intervening in this earlier."

The man didn't know what to say to that.

"Don't worry. Senior Officer Armstrong asked me to do some patrol work as a favor before I do my part in Elya's plot, whatever it is. You go to our family get-together, and…I will work."

Sonata and Matheus said goodbye to Calamity Amb once they split off for their respective planes. There were no more arguments between the veteran and the fusion of his former commander and Sonnetto. Sonata wrote copiously into her journal, and Matheus tried to grapple with his assigned reading from Professor Angel Davis at Twin Cities University.

As they got off the plane and on the train, Matheus and Tanya could not help but see people painting "No Heartists Allowed" and other symbols on their businesses. Some people walked through the street with Himmler's manifesto conspicuously in their hands to ward off suspicion that they might be one of the 'evil progressives or Heartists'. The last time Matheus had seen his hometown in such an anxious state was right after the Great War when not one but two near revolutions occurred — one from the Marksists and another from the Kaiser's Men.

Seeing how much Berun has transformed will be rough. At least Himmler was not in power yet. That was another reason to be going to Germania, in addition to supporting Calamity during her hearing. Sonata would shift herself into the Old Tanya if it meant saving their homeland from a Bussolini wannabe.

If Sonata was barely keeping her freak out under control seeing all the changes, Matheus did not want to think about how Calamity was reacting.

---

Harbor in Cloak Town - July 1954

Thabisa, with cat Mpho on her back, got on Rex's ship. The immortals, human-shaped homunculi who were said to be unkillable like the legendary Sonnetto, stood guard as sailors got to work.

"Hiss!"

Mpho definitely shared Thabisa's discomfort with the strange artificial beings. Unlike Sonnetto, these immortals had no personality and wore outfits of pure black with terrifying metal masks. They were also supposed to be the royal guard for the late Persian Emperor Cassander, which begged the question of how Rex had them.

Before the two South Afrikans could get to the cabin's room, a man with milky white irises stopped Thabisa.

"Miss and Good Sir, if I may have your ear," he whispered.

Thabisa glanced at Mpho on her shoulder.

"Meow."

She didn't know what her housemate had said, but the totem user could guess what he meant. Thabisa nodded to the man to say his piece.

Silence filled the gap before them for a few moments.

"You have—"

"Sorry, you have to excuse me," he interjected. "Timing is hard for me."

"You don't have to apologize. It was my fault."

"Then we are both at fault, then perhaps neither of us are."

"...Please, I really need to speak to—"

"Rex, I know. Don't worry, you will. I just wanted to tell you that soon, you four will go on a journey. It will be very frightening, but do not lose hope."

"Us four?" Thabisa asked, deeply perplexed. The man was not making any sense.

"Oh, sorry. Soon, you will know. Remember, the goddess understands how you feel more than you can imagine."

He stepped back after that. Thabisa did not know what to make of the strange fellow.

"Meow."

"Yes, yes, I am going, Mpho."

The immortals opened the cabin's door, revealing a young Greco-Persian man who couldn't be more than nineteen pouring reagents over a pita dish. A foul smell emanated from the meal that made it clear it was no longer suitable for human consumption. That did not stop Rex, though. He wasn't human but a homunculus — a homunculus with a personality.

Behind him was a seasoned soldier-like revolutionary who apparently came from Abya Yala. She had a rifle slung on her shoulder, and in her ammo pack on her belt were clearly enchanted bullets, clearly reflective of the traditional magic knowledge of North America. Her hawk-like gaze made it clear that she would not hesitate to kill you if she deemed it necessary. Unlike the young man, who was a bit goofy, whatever had happened to this woman had robbed her of mirth or kindness.

As Thesbia dumped her bag of cash, they got to discussing what was going to happen next. The strange man outside wasn't wrong. Four people would go on a journey to Germania if you excluded that man by the door who tagged along but didn't quite act like he was fully present in the moment. The question was what business Rex and his two friends could possibly have in Germania.

---

The Streets of Berun July 1954

I took a deep breath as I walked along a familiar waterway. Matheus was at the family gathering without me. He missed his family, and as much as I also kind of did, I would not tolerate anything less the same baseline respect that every person deserved.

It felt like ages since I had been in Berun. How many times have I walked these very streets? Despite being mages, Tanya and Sonnetto had never felt safe on them, and neither did I. My Silver Mirror and MI uniform would have to suffice as I patrolled the streets on foot.

My mind couldn't decide how to feel about what I was seeing around me. The strangeness of the whole situation with the rise of this world's Nazism made it feel unreal. It was one thing to read a history textbook. It was a very different thing to live that history.

"Sonata, everyone lives history. It doesn't just exist in the past….Nothing is just in the past."

Roxanne's memories of the Albish troops starving twelve million Persians to death during the Great War by stealing all their grain came to mind. The consequences affect people today, both in terms of the loss of so many loved ones and the lack of acknowledgment by the Albish leadership. The genocides were yesterday, they were today, and they will be tomorrow until we do something about them. Unfortunately, due to all the cover-ups going on, people abroad will not know about them without Interpol acting fast.

Sonetto was right, but that didn't change the surrealness of the whole situation. What was I supposed to be doing? Around me was this bizarre hyper-awareness of what was going on in Germania but also a massive disparity of sensitivity. It was like a huge chunk of the country simply did not understand what was going on.

Calamity had blown a gasket, according to Senior Officer Armstrong, when she had seen the 'No Heartists' on various store windows. She had her father's heart, and that meant some things were too awful in her opinion to tolerate and demanded action. Even though Himmler wasn't chancellor, his party had been enacting policies at the state level across the country by the dozens, targeting the weakest and most hated minorities.

The strategy was terrifyingly simple. Go after a group most of society has negative or apathetic feelings towards and doesn't know much about, like trans people or Heartists. Then, force the other political parties to take a side. If they oppose the discriminatory legislation, then hurl a thought-ending accusation at them of being something unforgivable like being a communist, authoritarian, child murderer, pedophile, or traitor. Basically, harvest that hatred you planted on the fertile ground of a poorly understood minority and displace it on your opposition. You marginalize your opposition along with the target group. If a politician supports your legislation, then they have effectively become complicit in your atrocities and added their power to yours. If the politician abstains, then you just ignore them because they are basically letting you know they aren't going to stop you. It is arguably even better for them to be neutral because you get the credit for actually doing something. In contrast, the neutral party gets lampooned for being a do-nothing party.

The strategy only worked when society lacked the perspective to see what was happening. Fascists defend oppression by pointing at others for what ails them. "It isn't me who has caused this mess you are in, but those people who can't do anything. Those pathetic idiots are the all-powerful masterminds behind the scam you had." The fascists cloak who they are by rebranding themselves endlessly. They aren't a specific set of policies. They don't target any one specific group or have a particular ideology. Instead, they are like an immune response to the discontent with plutocracy.

People realize things aren't fair. The rules are not being abided by. At least they are not being abided by equally. The politicians don't reflect their will anymore, and they all feel it.

Fascism comes in as the solution to steer people away from overthrowing increasing inequality by saying the real problem is too much equality. The fascists offer oppressive contracts to people that get people out of being at the very bottom of the totem pole in exchange for joining their paramilitary and other instruments of oppression. Under 'work or die' plutocracy, being on the bottom meant death. It was a strategic move for these people to assist in shoving down another group if it helped them resist oppression. When a recession occurs, recruitment to fascist ideologies and their terroristic paramilitaries and parties skyrocket, often with the support of powerful individuals, including out-of-touch millionaires like Richard Diamond and Henry Phord.

Business tycoons played a huge role in getting Rudolf Himmler to power. When push comes to shove, plutocrats pick autocrats. I could actually see a large gathering of people in the distance attending a Nazi rally. Large loudspeakers saturated the city block with their rhetoric while their brown shirts drove through the streets in their fleet of motor cars. After buying a newspaper, I found articles celebrating how Himmler flew to fifty different cities near the end of the election. According to the information I received from Elya, privately owned newspapers in Germania and around the world received 'incentives' to publish articles praising Himmler and his party.

In fact, according to Elya, all of this was only affordable due to the plutocrats pumping copious amounts of funds into a power-hungry fringe personality to inflate their national importance to the terror of socialists and economically disenfranchised. It was no wonder why Himmler, like Bussolini, planned to end all inheritance taxes and raid the public treasury to subsidize heavy industry for the plutocrats. Himmler was already using the immense coffers of his party to enrich himself and buy lavish collections of paintings, and the planned rounding up minorities left a bunch of real estate and wealth to pocket for oneself and one's allies. It also became abundantly clear who was really giving the orders as Brown Shirts (as well as the Black Shirts in Ildoa and the Silver Shirts in America) when these uniformed terrorists broke strikes and crushed labor organizations and farm co-ops.

These terrorist organizations reinforce the domination of nationally oppressed groups who are understandably vulnerable to anti-plutocratic ideologies like socialism. The law-enforcement-judicial-penal system goes into hyperdrive, creating a rapidly growing out-of-sight incarcerated population of potential anti-plutocrats to which the colonialized mind attributes crime on behalf of the business tycoons, who use them for slave labor or outright kill them. Simultaneously, the paramilitary goons rampage across the country penalty-free despite acting extrajudicially because the law under the fascist face of plutocracy drops any pretense of fairness, turning into an explicit tool for going after the enemies of the plutocracy.

I work in international law enforcement. I have seen the prisons, concentration camps, and all the horrors therein. It was, in part, why I was terrified of what might happen to my sister Calamity in Germania. From the v-coding in the former Unified States to the biologistic practices of the Germanian Republic, my paranoid mind had plenty of fodder to create countless horrific outcomes for Calamity's fate if she got thrown into a potentially imperialist or fascist prison.

I took a moment to look at some of the people walking by the Nazi rally. They looked like normal people. I think some even thought they were liberals, I assumed.

You determine if a self-described liberal is a real egalitarian or potentially fascist by which side they take when plutocrats are threatened. In other words, do they value hierarchical order or equality more? I fell on the latter…Tanya, however, was clearly the former for many reasons, including the pseudoscientific and prejudicial colonial logic hidden within her New Atheist Enlightenment ideology.

In short, Tanya had a lot of baggage she needed to unpack, which is why I spent the rest of my patrol route going down familiar spots from Tanya's second life.

Arguably, Tanya was one of the most exploited magical officers in the Great War. All Tanya wanted was a comfortable, peaceful job, yet due to her anachronistic plutocratic capitalist ideology instilled in her from a black company from 21st century Japan, the more she leaned into her self-sacrificing overexploitation and dogmatically overperformed in a way that no early 20th-century person could understand, the further from that dream of comfort and peace she became. In other words, it was not that Tanya was uniquely foolish — though she was that, too (Hey now!), but rather that she came from an era more foolish than the current time period in many ways. It was like the plutocratic mindset comes with the moral hazard of causing wars to escalate or something.

As I walked past the memorial to General Erich von Rudersdorf, I couldn't help but remember how Tanya had killed the man on a plane flight because he had planned to overthrow the government. Not too far past that, there was a new monument dedicated to Rosa Lindenburg. The community had created a steel sculpture of her name sticking out of the canal where Elya and Tanya had tossed her corpse after the latter murdered her.

"Tanya, you two were a menace," Sonnetto muttered, understating Tanya's crime by quite a lot.

"As you said before," Tanya replied.

"Do you feel any guilt?"

"I operated under the intel we received. Elya had bugged their apartment, and we struck when we were sure it was them and no one else."

"You also snapped at Lindenburg in a rage before you killed her and Landskneckt! Do you really think that you were completely rational at that moment? You were just supposed to arrest her. Not kill her. That is why you covered it up."

The voices in my heart returned to white noise.

Was Tanya as rational as she thought she was? Was Tanya a hypocrite, condemning other people for their cover-ups? Was Tanya no better than those fascists who barged into people's homes and killed dissidents? Did Tanya, at some point, sign this proverbial oppressive contract? Her murder of Rosa Lindenburg woke Tanya up to something she had not addressed herself. While Tanya tried not to address it consciously, that was when she started tempering her blind hate of communists. Not because she sympathized with them but because her secularist anti-irrationalism rejected letting emotional impulses undermine her and her professional duties.

Countless negative consequences occurred as a result of that murder. For starters, the SDP lost all credibility with Rosa Lindenburg's faction and other egalitarians for their implicit support of my actions. It is, in part, why we were still fighting to amend Paragraph 175, which explicitly criminalized male homosexuality. That part of me may have supported the libertarians in their philosophy. Still, even a self-interest analysis made it clear that the parties advocating for women's rights and lesbian rights served my interests. It doesn't matter if the markets are free and competitive if the people are not free. No rational individual can support a party that demonizes and marginalizes them.

That is unless they think doing so will get them a perk like those implicit oppressive contracts. Edmund Burke, the father of conservatism who declared plutocratic aristocracy as the goal of capitalism, was Eirish, after all. It isn't uncommon for oppressed groups to become spokesmen for plutocracy. They give plutocracy its veneer of credibility. It allows them to say they are fair when they aren't.

Did they use me? Tanya wondered inside me, referring to the libertarian party who had once invited her to give a few speeches in 1935.

They had even paid Tanya to be a speaker, and she was dirt poor at the time before Interpol was founded. She didn't even have to fake passion for their free market ideology. How could she have said no? There was a beer hall not too far away where Tanya had been asked to wear her old uniform and include how economic freedom helped her as a veteran and a woman. She even got two hundred Marks for that speech.

How the past comes to haunt you…

Suddenly, a hand waved at me, breaking me from my dour analysis.

The hand was connected to a well-dressed young man who I felt a solidarity connection with for some reason despite never having met him before…no, some part of me remembered him. Part of my Sonnetto half. It was deep, far too deep to be a casual acquaintance.

"I finally found you, mādar," the man signed towards me, using some Persian sign language that I didn't fully understand.

He was Alexander Magnus the Second—Roxanne's only child who was supposed to be dead.

---

The Streets of Berun

Alexander "Rex" Magnus II couldn't believe his eyes. His mother looked just like how he imagined her. It was odd seeing her in an Interpol outfit, but that was definitely hers. Rex had not been conscious for too long. His connection with his mother had steadily fed him mana, waking him from 'storage' in Cassander's lab. With all the chaos happening in Western Persia after it came out that both had died to Marksist revolutionaries in America, it had been actually quite easy to slip out and take command of some of the immortals to help him.

Her mouth moved, but Rex couldn't hear her.

"I know you can't talk either."

She signed back, but he didn't get it.

This was a problem, but then she lifted a finger and pulled out a notepad. He followed her, excitement in his step. They went to a cafe where she ordered some drinks for both of us. Rex couldn't read the menu, and he trusted that she knew what I could safely drink, too. Her brown eyes kept glancing at me as my sudden appearance dumbfounded her.

"Are you really my son?" she wrote down.

"That I am, and I have done all my duties as a good son must. I have been praying, too, just as you taught me when I was a small human child. Don't worry. I have friends and guards with me, so I am safe. We can protect you, too, mādar."

She looked at Ramona Mercer, who was guarding my six nearby.

"Let's just say I don't feel particularly safe with your choice of guards," she replied. "Who are your friends?"

"Thabisa, Mpho, and Mr. Whispers. You have met Mr. Whispers, I think, but he kind of goes where he pleases."

Did my mother and Ramona have a history? He wondered. Roxanne then gave Romana the 'I am watching you', and the sniper just tipped her hat and shrugged. They definitely had a history.

Before Rex could continue, the drinks arrived — coffee. He knew this much was safe for his alchemical metabolism. Tasting it, he found the blend was quite agreeable.

He took a moment just to let the flavor sit on his altered taste buds. 3% Caffeine, 4% tannins, 13% proteins, and 11% fixed oils. Oh, some delicious chlorogenic acid.

Roxanne watched him closely and then wrote. "Okay, now I believe you are my son."

"What gave it away? Was it my joyful attitude!" He threw up his arms like a cheerleader.

"...no. Sonnetto always made that exact expression when she had Mikhail's morning brew. It was the CGA, right? It is my favorite part, too. Did you like the guaiacol? I don't know how Mikhail does it, but there is something about that guaiacol that is unique from other coffees."

"That is because the stable isotope dilution assays are different from most commercial coffees. It is what gives it that different potent fragrant profile as well."

Mother looked at Rex as if he had written something odd. Had she not learned this when training as an alchemist? As a homunculus, she had all the same chemical sensors on her tongue to assist with the identification of proper reagents for her unique physiology.

He decided to ask a question that was eating at the back of his mind.

"What are we going to do now?" He wrote with a bright grin.

Roxanne went stock, still reading that question.

"Is something wrong?" he followed up.

"No. Yes. This is a lot to process, sorry."

"Didn't you think I was alive?" Rex's smile started to falter.

"No…."

"Didn't you look for me?"

"No…."

"Why?" he wrote, and for some reason the page tore.

His mother flinched.

"Why?" he underlined.

"I was running away from that life. That is why. I didn't want anything to do with that life."

"You didn't want anything to do with me?"

"I…no…Part of me thought you were dead."

"But you didn't check."

"I was afraid if I did, I would lose this." She gestured to Berun.

"You mean a city filled with imperialists and fascists?"

"No, not those people. This place was much more than that. People like Sonnetto and Tanya could be themselves here….more themselves."

"It sounds like you were trying to run from yourself," Rex accused her.

His smile had turned upside down. It took some will to keep his emotions in check. He was still very much a young soul. It was a lot catching up as his immortal body reached full maturity. That did not excuse being too rude to his mother.

Roxanne fidgeted a moment and took a deep breath.

"I was not running away from myself — Sonnetto was not running away from herself. She was running away from losing herself."

"Who is Sonnetto?"

"A soul inside of me."

That took him for a loop.

"Who is Tanya?"

"Her partner and also a soul inside of me." Roxanne used the romantic form for 'partner'.

"Who are you?"

"Sonata."

"Where is Roxanne?"

"She is dead."

That threw Rex for a complete loop, but it also was deeply saddening. There was a connection between them, yes; however, it was hard to learn that he was effectively an orphan now, emperor by right or no.

Sonata gestured for permission to hug him, and he nodded. Rex definitely needed one.

Still, why had Mr. Whispers told him that his mother wished she had a child if she was dead and this person, or at least a part of this person, had not cared about him?

---

The Institute for Sexuality and Gender Studies

Elena "Elya" Müller leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. The Institute for Sexuality and Gender Studies served a lot of purposes, from family planning, fertility treatments, SID treatment, advocacy and research for GLBT folks, and gender-affirming surgeries. A vast library of research resided here not only for scientific use but also for public education and policy advocacy. Elya had been there a few times, helping friends who had a wish that could only be granted by the medical professionals here in Berun. That was what Elya was best at: wish granting and dream realizing. It was what she had a passion for, and it was what made her forgive herself for who she was.

The reason Elya had come to the Institute at all during this time of crisis was a favor for a co-conspirator of sorts. That person went by the codename Mr. Whispers. He also happened to be the Mandate from South Afrika who had assisted her and the MIs in taking down Richard Diamond and his buddies. Mr. Whispers was…eccentric and a bit of a bumbler. He hardly knew when and which world he was in at times, but when he did and you could keep his attention, that man could give you just the right bit of information to get a plan into motion. That being said, there had been several close calls when orchestrating the arrests and, when that wasn't possible, letting Borislava Krans and Ramona Mercer do what they do best. Officially, MIs did not condone extrajudicial murders, and also, officially, MIs regularly worked with the governments in joint ventures. The Russy Federation happened to take a very different approach to justice when fascists were involved (or, in the case of hardliners, revisionists were involved).

It was understandable, too. Since fascism was the naked face of finance capital, communists were number one on the fascist hit list for their ideal plutocrat paradise. The more pragmatic socialists, who didn't suffer from an 'infantile disorder' that the socialist purists had understood that when dealing with fascists, you had to collaborate across class and ideological lines to win.

The favor Mr. Whispers asked of Elya involved the two sitting next to her — Thabisa and Mpho. It wasn't easy getting around a strange town. The two knew Legodonian and Albish but couldn't understand Germanian. It also didn't help that the National Socialists, with all their millionaire-funded paramilitary troops and motor cars, made South Afrikans like them prime targets for a not-so-pleasant encounter with the side of the law, which binds but doesn't protect.

"Mr. Mpho, the doctor will see you now," the receptionist announced from the little window at the other end of the waiting room.

Thabisa and the oddly cat-like man looked up from some of the literature they had been given.

Elya did not need to translate. The receptionist knew a little bit of Albish, which, in Germanian, meant he knew more Albish than native speakers.

"Do you want me to go with you?" the 'former' spy inquired, taking a break from a survey she had volunteered to fill out for Doctor Nighswander. Heteroflexible people like Elya weren't well understood, and both the gay and straight communities benefited from unlearning outdated science.

The two shook their heads, but Mpho did take his friend with him, leaving Elya all alone in the waiting room. It was just Mpho's initial visit. Getting top surgery and other treatments would take months and require a meeting with a few doctors. There were waiting lists and such. One didn't just pop in at the doctor's office and get surgery.

Still, there was a bit of a question in the air about where the two South Afrikans had gotten their money. Elya, of course, already figured it out, but when you worked with Mr. Whispers, you learned to be pragmatic, especially when the stakes are this high. Besides, it is not like Elya, of all people, could complain about stuff like that. If even a third of the things she had done became known, she would be one of the most wanted criminals in the world.

There was then a sound of someone sitting down.

"Surprised you are showing up here of all places," Elya stated, not taking her eyes off her survey. She knew who had shown up without needing to look. One person had long red hair that was satisfied like that. Calling a person snake-like would come across as insulting in most circumstances, but this person embodied those qualities in a kind of enticing way.

"I heard from a little bird that I should come visit," Borislava Kransi answered. "I missed out on a lot of action in America running around the world with you."

"But you had fun. Got rid of a few capitalists you didn't like."

"I don't do this because I hate capitalists. I do this for justice and to save people. Capitalists just happen to be the ones going around terrorizing people. If it were a feudal warlord or a corrupt central committee, I would have and have done the same."

By capitalists, they just meant people who own and control capital property like factories.

Elya combed her hands through her red-dyed hair. The former spy didn't think like the Angels, but she could adjust. Liberals like her will work with Marksist-Levinists when fascists are about, even if they often disagree about GLBT rights and democratic norms. The social dimension mattered more to liberals like Elya. Not everything was economics — people wanted their bread and their flowers. Social liberals wanted to think, express, and challenge. Liberalism was a culture born from revolution, too, but that argumentativeness caused problems for revolutions as it dispersed the energies in desperate directions.

Obviously, the liberals weren't perfect. In the Russy Federation, they caused problems because too many of them wanted to be artists or do unproductive projects. There was also this obsession with getting Western commodities like cars rather than building mass transportation. As Parenti would say, 'Once your needs are met, your wants become your needs,' and a good society does not always make good people'.

"So what is the plan?" Borislava inquired, switching to Russy for a bit of privacy.

"It starts with the Munich authorities having finally pressed charges for Himmler's rampant tax evasion."

"Tax evasion?"

"These fascist party leaders are almost always tax-evading grifters and fraudsters who epitomize being on the side of the law that protects but not binds. You live in the Federation, but here, tax evasion is almost never enforced unless there is some will behind it. Regardless, he owes a massive fine, which Himmler now knows about."

"Obviously, he won't actually get punished with just that, especially if he takes power. What is your real aim?

"Well, Sonata knows part of the plan, but I just need to find a way to convince her that the end goal is necessary even if it will mean that—"

Before she could continue, a loud ruckus interrupted their conversation. Not just any kind of loud ruckus — the Brown Shirt kind. Elya had a sinking feeling that Mr. Whispers knew this was going to happen. She had to hope the future he saw was actually of this world and not one where they got lucky. She didn't want to be another one of his 'ops, she wasn't supposed to die' victims. Endangering all of them by putting them here on the day this was going to happen probably made sense to Mr. Whispers, assuming he knew this would happen, but that didn't make it any more fun to be in the middle of a life or death historical moment.

She activated her computation orb and dialed into Sonata.

---

Within view of the Reichstag

With the loudspeakers set up and the Brown Shirts keeping the protestors at bay, Rudolph Himmler walked up the podium while his brother Heinrich stayed in the motor car. Someone had to take over if Rudolph died, which hopefully didn't happen, but the Brown Shirts and his rhetoric had definitely agitated the communists and their friends. An assassin could be anywhere.

He gazed upon his audience of supporters. Many of them were middle class and frustrated with the feeling of slipping behind. They were above poverty, and he offered a way to get out of it — at least, that is what he told the rubes. What he was after was power and wealth, the same as everyone else. Whatever got him, it didn't matter. Yes, Rudolph believed a lot of what he said, but one needed a pragmatic and ideologically flexible mind to navigate harnessing the masses.

Every day, President Ropen refused to appoint him as chancellor, and Rudolph's situation became more urgent. Namely, a letter from the Munich Tax Authority earlier this week had let him know that he owed a 405,494 R.M. fine for tax evasion. He absolutely had no plan to pay it, but in order to get the law off his back, Rudolph needed power. The first thing on his agenda was not only getting the state secretary of the ministry of finance to intervene to make him tax-exempt.

A thought lingered on the back of Rudolph's mind that he might as well make himself President as well and take on two hefty salaries.

Regardless, it was time to put some pressure on President Ropen. His voice started very softly despite the loudspeakers projecting it to his audience. The crowd of supporters and admirers got quiet quickly and instinctively strained their ears so as not to miss a word. Understanding mass psychology was essential to running an effective campaign.

"Today, right now, as President Ropen decides who the next chancellor should be, it is also Flower Day," the politician opened with a humble and soft tone. "It is the day most countries remember their fallen during the Great War. As you know, we Germanians do not get to have a flower because we lost as part of our humiliation. I must ask why we lost, though. I ask myself this question every night, like many of us do.

"While I ask this question, I can't help but flip through my memories of the Great War. As you know, I was conscripted like many of us and our brothers, fathers, and husbands were. Back then, I didn't want war. None of us did. I kind of lived for myself. A pure individual. I naively trusted Germania to steer us away from conflict with the rose-tinted picture Prince Philip's Weltpolitik painted. Before the war, I believed in a world where we all could just get along. How naive I was."

He gave some air for that to sink in.

"The war demonstrated that the peace-loving rationality of us Germanians was not a trait saved by our neighbors of different stock. Closer to animals, their base desires and emotions drove them to attack us even. As they attacked us, we had to put peace aside and engage in the madness those of lesser stock reveled in. We had no choice. We aren't violent animals. They are. They even thought they could win, and they shouldn't have. We had superior technology, science, and strategy due to our natural advantages.

"As I said, before the war, my mind was poisoned by this naive notion of that pervert's Weltpolitik, but the war helped cure me of that lie, as it did us all." Rudolph's voice started to increase in volume as he put more emotion and pride into his words. "It turned us from mere individuals into Germanians, and it turned Germanians into a nation. Francois Republic and all the countries piled onto us as we became more and more fearsome in our unity. Despite that, we proved time and time again that Germania could not be bested. In that war, the Empire became the greatest country in the world."

Pride then turned to contempt.

"The question remains, though, why did we lose?" Himmler continued. "If the Francois Republic, Russy Federation, and practically all the other countries in Europa and the Unified States could not beat us, why did we lose? We of the national socialist party think the reason is obvious. Yet, so many of our fellow Germanians cannot fathom why."

There was a silence to let it sink in.

"The reason what should be obvious isn't is because we have been lied to so thoroughly by the International Heartists and the communists and all their perverted allies in Schoenenburg who spread their filth through the streets that our minds have become conquered by their lies. The Heartists have made us forget who really stabbed us in the back — who stole victory from our very hands time and time again.

"But the actions of President Ropen, who denies our victory now by not putting your leader in power, has finally reminded us who the real traitor is — the politicians. They were the ones who refused to take victory during the war every time they had it. They were the ones who wanted us to lose, just like how they still deny our victory — Germania's victory — in the election at this very moment. They deny us victory because they have never been on our side."

He paused again. His voice had a fire in it. Hate was a powerful and persuasive emotion, and these people had a lot of it.

"Whose side are they on? Obviously, on the Internationalist Heartists' side. Just look how they cozied up to the Heartist communist Leon Plum when he was in office or how they act so outraged at the sentencing of that treasonous Heartist bastard Dreyfus. The International Heartists who run the banks and their slavish puppet politicians have duped us into abandoning our pride as Germanias, stolen our Emperor, and made us act like docile sheep to control us. They are the ones who dip into your paychecks and pensions to hand them over to the Francois.

"How must Francois be laughing at us? Their people would never let their leader do to them what Ropen is doing to us today. Of course, the Francois wouldn't. They still have their pride, and we will demonstrate that we have completely lost ours if we roll over and expose our bellies to President Ropen and his Heartist masters while our hard-earned victory slips from our freedom. But they underestimate us. We don't let the lying press and their religion of enslavement make us weak anymore. Our pride still burns in our hearts. We remember what should have been. We know that we are not going to let the politicians steal our victory again. We are Germanians, and we are not going to be humiliated and bullied anymore. We will be victorious."

He let them cheer and cheer in approval. That gave him time to breathe.

The camera and radio crew recorded everything, which could be rebroadcasted across the country to his base, who found his rhetoric entertaining and engaging. All of this was possible thanks to the generous financial support of Fritz Dyssen, Edwin Lechstein, Henry Phord, and Gustav Crupp.

He resumed once they quieted down. Like a rollercoaster that had reached one peak and rode itself down, it was time to build the emotion in his audience all over again for the next peak.

"Since it is Flower Day, we should remember our fallen," Rudolph resumed, taking on a quieter tone once again. "I ask us to remember General Rudersdorf. I remember him addressing me right before he took his last flight — the flight in which we now know he was murdered by a traitor. He and I were close friends, so he let it slip to us in a beer hall in Munich a few days before his death to be ready. We all knew what he meant. At the time, the good General was planning on storming the Senate and seizing power before those politicians finished their plot to destroy everything that made us the most feared nation on the entire planet. Then, they killed him, and we let his death be the end of our putsch. We shamefully let his death cause victory slip from our hands.

"But today, we are not going to let a murderous traitor stop us. We have learned our lesson, and on behalf of our fallen General who tried to save us, we will— no, we must prevail. We must demand our due from President Ropen. His delay has already led to consequences. His lawlessness in keeping the chancellorship in the air has forced our wonderful Brown Shirts to take charge and weed out the filth from the streets. Right now, they are doing the justice Ropen refuses to do. Like surgeons, our protectors are tearing the infestation from our culture and burning the liberal excesses from this city. Today, our brave brothers are finally going to that Heartist-run clinic for sick perverts of the Scientific Humanitarians. Tomorrow, they will strike at the mosques, temples, and friendship associations. They will keep going until burning it all away with the Fatherland's wrath until all their lies that are poisoning our sons and daughters and making us forget our pride and family values are finally gone. Then, we can stand tall as a proud Germanian people once again."

There were more raucous cheers, but he let them run their course before concluding.

"We have already given the President just enough rope to get out of this situation before the inevitable happens when you deny the people what is their due. If he is a true Germanian, he will take that rope we have given him and let us rule, or the people will hang him with it."

Rudolph gestured towards the Reichstag building. Hopefully, that would put fire below Ropen's feet and finally get him to concede Rudolph's victory.

The potential bloody dictator walked down to a station set aside for party merchandise. Proceeds from sales of his book, which he wrote during his prison sentence for high treason for his part in Rudersdorf's putsch plot, had finally started to pour into his personal bank account. While people were definitely buying copies of his books from the tables set aside, Rudolph preferred just to sign postcards and the like.

Heinrich came up to Rudolph suddenly. The party leader raised an eyebrow.

"Ropen wants to talk to us and our donors."

"To hand me my chancellorship, right?" Rudolph asked.

"He didn't say."

Rudolph was open to compromising with Ropen behind closed doors but would like more assurances that this wasn't just another stalling tactic.

"But more importantly, he said White Silver would be there."

How could you say no to a war hero? Rudolph didn't know how she escaped the socialists and the superweapon they used on Chicago, but he was glad the mysterious woman had finally returned to the Fatherland.

---

Near the Institute, July 1954

I received the call from Elya, had to leave Rex behind to do my job, and made my way to where a mob of Brown Shirts had gathered outside the Institute for Gender and Sexuality Studies with torches in hand. The assholes planned to burn away what was the greatest and most dedicated concentration of scientific knowledge on gender, sexuality, and non-prejudicial GLBT healthcare in the world. In fact, due to how widespread prejudice was towards trans people, it unfortunately was probably the only place much of this knowledge could be found. Its destruction would set healthcare, science, and advocacy for trans people back an entire century, if not more. Trans people could even get passes that protected them from laws criminalizing cross-dressing through the advocacy that originated here. I definitely benefited from being able to wear what I wanted as well, being more of a fan of cargo pants.

It wasn't like the rest of the powers at be would even care if this place was destroyed either. The entire section I had written about the ways conversion therapy, pseudoscientific experimentation, and often mass incarceration of GLBT people under the Silver Legion went undiscussed by the European media, and scholars usually irregularly included 'homosexuals' or 'sexual perverts' among their discussions of the victims of the Silver Legion's atrocities.

I shouldn't be surprised either. There was a clear bias in which minorities were deemed worth remembering as the empire-serving biases of the journalists, politicians, and historians played themselves out in print and in broadcasts. The plight of GLBT people was ignored because these thought-makers condoned the eradication of those minorities. One only needs to remember the fate of Alan Turing, but remembering is what Europa desperately did not want to do. Remembering was a punishment for the losers, and forgetting was the privilege of the victors. How wonderful the world would be if we were all forced to remember?

The biggest part of the forgetting was the role of plutocrats in the Silver Legion. All the critiques of monied interests disappeared from the European thought-makers' version of events. Instead, it was merely out-of-control racism and loss of democracy that had caused the Silver Legion to control everything. The blame got placed wholly on people in general rather than why those prejudices served those who often held very different beliefs than their base. Yockey and Himmler despised the Old Faith but used religious language to justify their warring by dividing the world between "Absolute Good and Absolute Evil". Both profiteered off not only in the use of a manufactured threat, but should Himmler take power, he will use that manufactured sense of threat to expand his executive powers and undermine democracy, just like Yockey. Both fascist leaders' biggest financial backers were weapon manufacturers, and nothing was quite as profitable as just taking land and real estate from people through Destiny Manifest, Lebensraum, and Terra Nullius — basically, might-makes-right expansionism.

However, acknowledging any of this would be to expose the same forces at work with the governments of the Commonwealth and Francois Republic, which manufacture consent for war profiteering and colonialism by obfuscating, liberal-sounding language. Traditional racism based on biology and skin tone became replaced with liberal racism, which found ways to pit liberal rights against each other always to produce illiberal results that perpetuated the same hierarchy as under traditional racism. The religious freedom of Universalists versus GLBT rights would result in justifying more discrimination for gay people. In contrast, the religious freedom of Legalists versus those same GLBT would be used to discriminate against Legalists. A good liberal knows how to see through the cynical use of liberalism to reproduce inequality. Likewise, socialists knew Himmler's use of socialist slogans and names was disingenuous. It was the classic example of a grifter who was bought and paid for to make sure socialism did not happen in Germania when people were desperate for a new, anti-plutocratic government.

In the Allied Kingdom and the Francois Republic, it has become increasingly apparent to people that every time their workers' parties got into power, they pivoted towards neoliberal policies. The more society wanted to reform capitalism or move past capitalism, the more these so-called workers' parties would suddenly just fracture, kicking out their more radical members. The communists increasingly gave up on electorialism due to the feeling of how rigged the system was, and so did liberals like me, who also could see the constant betrayals of politicians using reform co-opting strategies similar to Himmler to make sure nothing too unprofitable for plutocrats ever occurred.

As I approached my destination, I activated my spell suite granted me by Tanya's innate magic (barrier, acceleration, pain numbing, duplicate illusions) and summoned my weapons contained in Sonnetto's alchemy and my mandates. The hands of my upper arms had Sonnetto's favorite dual pistols, while my lower pair held the pair of spousal blades gifted to me by Emperor Zhu and Empress Ma. (How I was supposed to return swords now tied to my soul was beyond me.)

Time moved slowly for me in my accelerated state. I could see the faces of the Brown Shirts. Far from alien and monstrous, these were my fellow countrymen. They were neighbors and perhaps even family members. These were primarily young men who had been radicalized in the well-funded youth groups, and they received a wage for the terrorism they exacted now. Paramilitary groups don't simply recruit bigots. They recruit those among us who don't have many options.

It was like this for the AAA in Argentum in many respects.

It was like this for the impoverished and racially marginalized Eirish and Ildoans whom the Silver Legion recruited to be their Enforcers and union busters.

It was like this for Tanya, whose life of violence was involved in at least her perceived lack of control and desperation. Enlisting and becoming a magical officer was her bid to avoid a worse fate.

Does irrationality embedded in the desire to control one's life push us towards these evil organizations and deeper into the carnage they bring? Tanya went from being an aerial spotter to being an aerial mage, even though being an aerial spotter was statistically safer because having a gun in her hands made her feel safer even though Calamity invested a lot of her safety and control over her life in the gun, that also led her to naively participate in the slaughter and suppression of the Dakota people. To have control and to control how the plutocrat grants your wish at a terrible price.

I think that in dehumanizing the Nazi grunts, we eliminate the very human reasons they became Nazi grunts in the first place -- that is to say, the thing in them that is also in us.

Pulling from Sonnetto's experience, I could see how the leaders in the Legalist nationalism movement promised people motorbikes, work, and a wife. For young men, it isn't religion that makes them join; it is the desire to have a life. The motorbike was a huge increase in what a person can do. It was freedom itself, much like the computation orb was to the aerial mage. The work fed and housed them and gave them reasons to be optimistic again. When the plutocrats scooped up all the real estate and facilities, pricing so many people out of life, there were always plenty of homeless, starving people who would turn to the Legalist nationalists for an escape. As for the wives, I think many people are victims of having an abstraction of the spouse we want to have at some point — the immature fantasy. The women join because they are starving and homeless, too. It's better to be some guy's wife than dead...sometimes…

Obviously, this wasn't to excuse sexism and gender violence such arrangements cause, but in refusing to empathize, we cannot actually address the underlying needs. Moralizing will always fall on deaf ears when a person's basic needs are not being met, just as a person who lives in comfort cannot begin to be ethical or even pragmatic if they cannot understand the material and historical contexts of those suffering.

That was, in part, why Tanya had crafted the Mages of Interpol the way she did. It gave destitute mage veterans a better option than joining organized crime. While the MIs policed mages, it also created precedence within the collective consciousness of holding power accountable. The non-mages understood that mages had this immense capacity to wreak havoc if not held accountable for the usage of their power. While non-mages definitely went overboard due to their ignorance of magic and the marginalizing nature overwhelming majorities in democratic governments, it did not take much effort to simply replace the mage in this equation with any institution or group of people with oversized power.

That left me as I watched these people in slow-mo react to my Agent Nichts disguise to wonder what steps we might take to steer people away from working for fascist and mafia-like organizations. As the leading authority on magical crime and magical law enforcement in this world, I felt obligated to think about this. Having seen mage prisons and having a personal connection with Calamity, I had plenty of reason to believe that just locking up every mage who looked at a non-mage funny and pressing them into military service was unideal. This also applies to people who were desperate for all sorts of reasons other than being a veteran mage and having all the life-long struggles that came with that.

"I am Agent Nichts. I have been alerted there of violence directed towards mages here."

It took a few seconds to realize they couldn't possibly understand me at my overclocked speed and forgot to activate my onerous thought-to-speech spell, so I dropped the acceleration part of my spell suite when I was sure they couldn't immediately threaten me. It was always difficult to remember to do that sometimes because it did not feel like you were thinking a hundred kilometers a minute until you got out of the acceleration and realized you could have written a book with the amount of thoughts running through your head. I didn't like using the thought-to-speech spell, even with the improvements, because it was an absolute pain to apply compared to Sonnetto's other alchemy. Kakania Ugar, for all her talents, had not made the spell all that user friendly yet.

I repeated my statement.

Several of them stepped forward, their leader and his fellow mage supremacist buddies. The leader had a nasty scar on his face where a mage blade must have hit him. With an injury like that, he carried the memory of the war with him, and it was not uncommon for people with such injuries to have very few options. Still, I'm not excusing what he is doing, but I knew providing some disincentives for fascistic violence would go a long way. I just needed to go through the process.

"Step out of the way, Agent Nichts, and let us eliminate the vermin behind you."

"I have the right to stand here as much as you. Also, that is criminal intent, sir. That is enough for me to arrest you on the spot, but I am feeling generous. If you and your buddies stand down, disarm, and go home, I won't have to remind you why I have the highest takedown record among the MIs."

He paused and then gestured for some non-mages to surround him. I hated when these bastards used non-mages as human shields.

I could maybe nonlethally take them down as I did with the Silver Legion's forces, but to repeat that, I would have to use my Solidarity powers again. There was no telling how I would react to blending my will with those of this community, given how close I was to this neighborhood. I could already tell how joining my will to that of the socialist revolution in America has distorted my thinking, and I had multiple degrees of separation there. Here, I didn't. Just testing one of those solidarity threads sent a bout of rage into me that would be hard for me to manage. I was already running hot. The formulae Tanya used regularly to stay 'logical' in combat may be the only thing keeping me from going on a violent rampage.

"Agent Nichts, glad you were nearby," came a voice suddenly to my right.

I turned to see Elya, who had spoken, and the ace of the Angels, Borislava Kransi. In the distance, I saw Rex and Ramona Mercer.

Even though I knew Borislava could probably handle all of these people on her own. She was admittedly a more powerful mage than Tanya had been and probably the most skilled mage I knew from the communist bloc after the late Avgust Zimin. However, she was not legally allowed to be in Germania and was not likely to hold back against fascist grunts.

"What are your orders, Senior Officer?" I inquired, deflecting responsibility for managing this situation onto my superior.

When in doubt, toss it to your boss.

"I am off duty, Sonata, and don't have a permit for military-grade orbs like you," Elya replied. "You will have to handle this yourself. However, I came out to tell you that there are civilians trapped inside, and they won't be able to flee with Brown Shirts terrorizing the area."

Welp, there comes the manager's uno reverse card: when in doubt, delegate.

Elya probably only came out because she had Borislava there as protection.

Borislava leaned closer to me and spoke softly. "You keep them back, and I won't intervene, but I won't let them past me. I don't care about your laws when they fail to protect innocent lives and refuse to stop fascists."

Way to put me on the spot, guys.

Call me biased, but I think a Clearance B works here. No one walks in my neighborhood and messes with my friends and community.

I popped my neck and then spread out my mana.

"Unlawful destruction of hospitals, medical facilities, and cultural centers like this institute is considered an international crime under the jurisdiction of Interpol."

I flicked both of my swords, coating them in mana, and carved a molten line in the cobblestone.

"Anyone who passes this line shall be subject to reasonable force to prevent damage to this structure as well in their apprehension."

There were hundreds of them, so they could reasonably believe that they could match me. Like always, the problem wasn't having too little power to handle the situation but too much. I really wished I had Fang Shiyu here. He made all of these situations a million times easier.

A brave non-mage tried to pass by my line, which admittedly was only two meters long, by going on my far side.

"No, don't!" the leader, who could feel the wave of mana swirl out of me and bash into the man.

I had to be careful. Sonnetto had told me that too much pressure from the mana could suffocate people, and so, like the Silver Legion, I had to err on holding back.

The man fell unconscious.

I quickly took my mana back. There might have been too much mana in that. It was still better than cutting the Brown Shirt in half, which would see my career over, no matter how justifiable it might seem. The world didn't work the way people might have liked. The rules that prevented me from just killing him also prevented MIs from just killing all other criminals. Rule of law and due process included limitations on law enforcement. At least, they should when acting professionally.

Regardless, this created a bit of a standoff situation. I wasn't getting back up. The MIs in this region were only available for a few reasons. I just had to continue the pressure.

"Okay, we will leave the institute alone," the leader declared. "Everyone, let's head out to our next target."

As they started to file out, our standoff continued. I walked with them. One of the Brown Shirts picked up the unconscious body of their buddy. Borislava Kransi stayed at the institute to protect it…which was better than not having anyone. Part of me found myself lingering on her emerald eyes a bit longer than I wanted.

"Get your head in the game, Sonata," Sonnetto reminded me playfully as she occupied Tanya's attention.

Easy for her to say. She had someone and didn't have to deal with having an embodied existence. I was becoming more and more than just the sum of Tanya and Sonnetto as I made my own decisions and had my own experiences. How bizarre that the Mandate of the Unknown Self would create yet another person. My relationship with Tanya and Sonnetto was closer than Sonnetto's to Roxanne, but like gradient, there was not a definable point in which this person ceased to be them and became me.

Still, I was also responsible for not just my life but theirs since we shared a fate.

The Brown Shirts nervously watched me. They knew what the old Agent Nichts was capable of, and my mana signature read just like hers. Even the wings were familiar, as the Type-95 would create them when Tanya used it back before it fused with her. However, the extra arms, swords, and ability to conjure invisible waves that knocked people unconscious caught them off guard. Nothing was scarier than the unknown.

We walked to a Legalist place of worship, and I reminded them that those are also under international protection from paramilitary thugs like them. Then we came to a store that just so happened to have a Heartist owner.

"You're going to tell me that destroying this is a crime against humanity, too," the leader spat with all the contempt he could muster.

"A mage ordering non-mages to do violence to non-mages or their property also falls under my jurisdiction," I replied with some smugness. "Because such use of mundane force comes with the implicit threat of magic being used."

"And if Lukas here gave the order?" He raged back at me.

"I already know you are in charge. It is too late to delegate authority or have the mages retreat. You all have given me more than enough reason to start applying force, which I will use at my discretion if any of you do anything I don't like."

"Then what was the point in having us walk all around Berun denying us over and over?"

I looked at the Brown Shirts behind him. Most of the non-mages lacked the magically assisted vitality to keep going. The sun was already setting. People were hungry, frustrated, and tired. Being angry is exhausting, and I prevent them from deriving perverse pleasure from being cruel and watching those who are suffering cry. They had lost a lot of their enthusiasm.


"Everyone," the leader shouted. "We are splitting up. You—"

Well, he was getting smart—sorry, man, whose name I never got. I flicked the blood off one of my swords and picked up his computation orb, which was still hot.

It took moments to realize what had just happened. The man had gotten far too comfortable with me and foolishly decided to turn his back on me. When he had distracted his cadre of Brown Shirts, I accelerated into him and took him out. It was a decapitation strike in multiple ways. My attack went beyond reasonable force, which is why you shouldn't combine anger with lethal force.

I flew up above the crowd, letting my six wings fully extend. It was like being a cat who puffed up its fur to seem more significant than it was.

"I am on patrol in this area, and don't you dare try me. I have fought for multiple days back-to-back without rest or little food. You will not catch me unaware. You will not escape. Put out your torches and go home because if I see any of you so much as light one or scratch a building or person, you will wish you were in hell."

I may have gone overboard with my language and decapitation, but it seemed effective. Splitting up doesn't work if I can fly at 100 kmph and put out threats quickly.

They put out their torches and started dispersing. Being fascist assholes doesn't happen all that much when there are actual and swift consequences.

Still, I had to keep my promise of vigilance. If someone tested my threat and I failed to stop them, it might encourage others.

I groaned. They were the only ones exhausted from anger.

"Senior Officer Müller, can I borrow some of your mana?" I asked, using the standard communication spell through one of the tattoos I had applied.

"Don't take too much, please. I don't want to fall unconscious suddenly."

"You know you can give me the mana yourself instead of me taking it. I try not to do that since it is, you know…can cause problems."

It was Elya's first time, but she got the hang of doing it. With the mana transfusion, I was in better shape. It was going to be a long night.

"Sonata, do you have time to discuss the plan to prevent the national socialist rise to power?"

What she told me was…going to have consequences — lots of consequences. Honestly, I probably would have refused her before tonight, but given how close my old neighborhood had come to being put to the torch, it made it really clear that I couldn't just sit on my hands here.

Speaking of sitting on my hand….

"Elya…would you please clock back in."

"Sorry, legally, I can't. Plus, be careful asking me to work. You can get in trouble."

That was another big difference between Tanya's past life and this world's Germania. In Japan, if your boss needs you to work, you better work. That is what it means to be a team player, and if you didn't respond right away, that would adversely impact your evaluation. At the beginning of Tanya's career, it wasn't unusual to be in crunch time for months on end. Because they had constant labor shortages, it wasn't uncommon for her to guzzle coffee and work past midnight for the company. For her hard work and proving how useful she could be, she got a middle manager position. She even finally started having her ideas listened to at the company before her death.

"Sonata, do not act like I haven't been working hard," Elya messaged me. "I have to use almost all my free time to get this pulled off. I am tired as hell, and right now, despite that exhaustion and donating mana to you, I am still helping some people from South Afrika who need someone to guide and protect them through Berun."

She must have overheard my thoughts, which I directed at her. The solidarity bond between Tanya and Elya was understandably strong, given what they had done together. Well, Neither Tanya nor I were in Japan anymore, and both of us knew that such ways of thinking had only made her life worse.

I technically was breaking some rules myself by working way past my designated clock-out time, but I think history will exonerate my labor violation right now…. Ugh, the union back in Abya Yala better be understanding.

---

Author Notes:
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. The title is a reference to Dog Day Afternoon, which has an interesting story behind it.

Major Sources:

1. Parenti, Michael. Blackshirts and Reds. 1997
2. Toscano, Alberto. Late Fascism. Verso. 2023

Video I liked:
https://youtu.be/npkeecCErQc?si=1ObidWI7Gzk--Toq

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

Last time on MI15:

• Calamity was taken to Germania to stand trial for killing a Silver Shirt who was about to murder an unarmed mage.
• Roxanne's only child, Alexander "Rex" Magnus II, meets Sonata.
• Sonata stopped Brown Shirts from burning down the Institute of Gender and Sexuality in her old neighborhood.
• Elya is planning something, and Sonata has her role to play.

---

The Eagle's Nest - July 1954

I had not gotten enough sleep between holding back Himmler's terrorists and making arrests while short-staffed in Berun. I was also a pretty anxious mess this week, understandably. Most people would be in my situation.

The national news, with all its expensive printing presses and valuable relationships with government insiders, characterized my actions as unwanted interference by Interpol, suggesting that local law enforcement could have handled the situation. I had the sensation of intense mental whiplash from this compared to coverage of Tanya's actions in 1950. The local law enforcement almost never gets sufficiently involved in these things in part because the local police's leadership supported the Brown Shirt's actions, as evidenced by the number of times police and thugs have attacked Tanya and her friends as they left a lgbt hangouts at night.

The only good coverage I got was from the expected ones. The Friendship Associations and the Lesbian papers depicted me as their ally in law enforcement. They advocated for Interpol to be more proactive in protecting minorities from the violence of the state and government. The Moscva-funded press rained praise upon me while encouraging its readership to see Interpol as the only legitimate law enforcement body in the imperialist West. Then, there were the other socialist, feminist, and demographic-oriented newspapers, each of which said some combination of the above. The overall idea I got was a lot of people did not think their government represented their interests anymore, and there was a rage at the government's blatant inaction from stopping what has been years of unchecked brutality and the police's complicity.

"Sonata, were you ego-searching?" Tanya inquired, amused and perplexed.

"What is…oh, this is too funny," Sonnetto said as she accessed the appropriate knowledge from her partner and broke out in a chuckle.

I could not help but blush. Unlike Tanya, I wanted to know what people were saying about me. Everything I seemed to do caused these vast shockwaves through the world, and I didn't want to be caught off guard.

"Keep telling yourself that," Sonnetto countered, continuing to break the tension before our big mission started with some much-needed humor.

"No, I think Sonata has a point," Tanya stated, rubbing her chin in thoughtful obliviousness. "We should be trying to detect trends so we can better plan. We can't just keep reacting to world events."

We kept talking as I flew. When I arrived at the meeting place with Himmler and his donors, I admit I was taken aback by what I saw, though I had to stifle a yawn.

I admit this was beautiful on top of a mountain where Rudolph Himmler put one of his illicitly funded holiday homes known as the Kehlsteinhaus.

The man did not come from money, so he had this excited energy of actually having it. The desire common among the nouveau riche to resemble aristocrats and classy people also animated him. He wanted to prove himself to me and his old money donors, who had also shown up. It kind of reminded me of my friend in college who would also look at those penthouse suites in Tokyo and say how he would do anything to be rich like that. Well, Rudolph definitely put extra emphasis on 'anything'.

He had even driven up to this holiday home in a 20,000 R.M. luxury Merkedes-Benz he bought with embezzled party funds. This was well-known even within his party, which had criticized him for malfeasance and outside Interpol's jurisdiction. The man was a shameless fraudster in every way.

"Isn't it just beautiful?" Rudolph Himmler asked me in this proud, folksy way.

I covered my mouth with my hand in a rather nostalgically Japanese way when I 'talked'. I had to obscure my use of the thought-to-speech spell somehow.

"As beautiful as it is, it is lonely at the top," I replied after taking it all end.

"What do you mean?" Rudolph responded with arched eyebrows.

"You don't have any neighbors up here. You can't have a block party or anything like that."

"Well, it is a holiday home, Mrs Degurechaff. I also have a small chalet that is more down to earth, which I purchased with the proceeds from my book."

"Well, every politician has to have a book," I commented with forced neutrality.

Honestly, I didn't know which name they would use for me, given that Victoria Truman was my Silver Legion alias. Apparently, Rudolph knew Tanya from General Erich von Rudersdorf. It was good that Victoria was similar enough to Tanya that people who knew both wouldn't be thrown off.

"You should write a sequel to The White Silver Manifesto," he recommended enthusiastically. "I am sure it would sell very well, and I would be happy to promote it if you put your backing behind my bid for the chancellorship."

I forced a smile but did not respond.

"I am serious. People really need to know your thoughts and the story of your struggle. Everything people write about you is completely wrong, but they don't listen to us Germanians."

"There is a lot I want to say, and I might publish something eventually. Son— I mean, I have quite the passion for journalizing my thoughts and experiences."

"I would love to read them if you let me," he offered with genuine enthusiasm that made it clear why people liked him. The man was a monster, but he was the monster who could tap into the desires of those he spoke to. "My cruel imprisonment for being a Germanian with a conscience definitely gave me a lot of time to think and write, but my current volume I dictated for our party's campaign this year. All those plane flights and campaign stops are a real marathon, but we Great War veterans can handle anything the world throws at us."

If only he had been executed for being a traitor. While his continued living baffled Tanya, given her regular paranoia about firing squads, Sonnetto and I had a far more cynical outlook.

"So how was being treated like a goddess?" the politician inquired when I didn't respond. "It must have been quite nice having all those adoring worshippers who did whatever you told you."

"It was misery and pain. I wanted to die. Anything I could do to escape it." My confession threw him for a loop, so I continued. "Power controls you, not you it. It fills you with paranoia. It demands your constant vigilance. It hurts and hurts and hurts. If heavy is the crown for empresses, then the goddess' crown will break a person's neck with its weight."

"I am not following."

"All-powerful leaders find themselves constantly watching out for assassins and backstabbers. Their food might be poisoned," I answered, drawing on Sonnetto's experiences as Roxanne. "The more powerful, the more enviable your power becomes to those near you. Then, you have your zealots, Silver Shirts, in my case. They expect a goddess to be perfect. They will constantly speak for you to justify their selfish desires, taking advantage of your authority. However, if you use your authority to say something they disagree with, they will ignore you, misinterpret you, or even believe you aren't the actual goddess. You end up having to speak this language of nonsense with your zealots just to get them to do what you want them to do."

I let that sink in momentarily before concluding: "So no, I did not like being treated as an empress, goddess, or whatever. I don't want that, and people would be wise to heed my warning not to take that path."

My words put him off balance, so he awkwardly gestured to the fancy house. I got a feeling that he had adjusted his opinion of me considerably after my words. It was that look when a person decided you didn't know what you were talking about and should listen to them instead. My job here wasn't to save Rudolph from himself.

"Why don't we go inside?" He suggested. "I will introduce you to Henry and the others if you haven't met. When I get into the office, I really plan on amassing a painting collection. Oh, and we are thinking about doing an expedition to find Thor's Hammer."

These guys and their vanity projects annoy me sometimes, mainly because they remind me too much of Yockey and Diamond. Does it matter if you own the painting if you can just see it in a museum or get a copy of it? Tanya wanted peaceful work and love, and Sonnetto was seeking connection and meaning. An expensive painting didn't have much value to either of them.

"I think one really should not measure one's wealth in terms of hollow status symbols but in relationships and happiness," I opined honestly. "The more unequal a society becomes through the accumulation of status, the less happy everyone becomes — both those with much status and those with little. Such disparity causes tension, erodes relationships, and, at the end of that path, one will find the afflictions of loneliness and lovelessness."

My mouth became a bit wet from the emotion, and the thought-to-speech spell translated the sadness I had not intended to leak out.

"I don't know what research you read, but my lived experience and the lived experience of the Germanians I have spoken to tell a very different story," Rudolph retorted as he opened the door for me. "Men are languishing in unemployment as Dacians take all their jobs. Loose city women smoke cigarettes and experiment with all sorts of perversion. In contrast, women in the countryside, plagued with so-called equality, can't balance their work responsibilities and taking care of the kids. We of the NSP know that we have to start putting our people first again, reclaim our lost territories, return to natural family values, and, most importantly, we have to punish those who backstabbed us."

What was scary was that his rhetoric was oddly reminiscent of what I heard around the world countless times before Interpol had another crime against humanity on its hands.

Having to listen to Rudolph talk about his painting hobby did not do my gut any favors. I kind of had to lean into the surrealness of my situation as I gathered evidence for arresting all these people. Interpol was on standby as I discreetly transmitted what I was hearing. I was invited inside.

I had transformed into Tanya before she mutated. I could control my Silver Mirror as long as people had seen that person before, and everyone in Germania knew what Agent Nichts looked like from Interpol's work and what Tanya looked like from her infamous arrest by Mary Sue. The only big difference between Tanya von Weiss and Victoria Truman was that Victoria had professionally styled hair and a dress that made her look like an I Love Lucy character. Honestly, transforming my body was like wearing old clothes that didn't fit anymore. I couldn't be that Tanya anymore without feeling uncomfortable and my authentic self leaking out like a muffin top.

As for my default form, I may have tweaked my body some. Anyone would…I think. I didn't want it to be noticeable because I was shy about it. So far, it has been just a few things. I gave myself a boost up top and got myself over 150cm tall again/finally. Not too much yet, but I wanted to be at least able to drive a car in places without mass transit without too much difficulty. We had to abide by no-fly zones in some cities, even as Interpol. Being able to drive once more / for the first time would be freeing in a way.

I don't think Matheus has picked up on it yet.

"He has," Sonnetto commented. "He is just being polite. He is the kind of person who doesn't comment on things he doesn't understand, and the topic is a minefield for him."

Well, that made sense, but it made me wonder how she knew that and I didn't.

"It is because she is guessing," Tanya commented before redirecting my attention.

Rudolph showed me around his paint studio. I commented a bit on his supplies, trying my best not to look at his face with its Charlie Laplin mustache. The more I pretended like he was just a guy, the easier it was not to freak out. I needed to justify my actions to the world and let him demonstrate to me why he was a threat.

"Do you like painting?" he inquired as I thumbed through his sketchbook.

"I do."

Many of the pictures in the sketchbook were of streets and buildings, using more classical, renaissance, and neoclassical styles—basically, the styles associated with the high points in Western imperial culture. Rudolph had copied some artists.

"You know, I plan on getting quite the painting collection," he commented. "One of my goals when I get into the chancellorship is to revitalize Germanian culture."

I hummed neutrally. He was a moderately ambitious amateur.

"One of my goals has been to reverse the degeneration of our culture," he continued while passing me works from his collection to 'appreciate.' "The experimental and modernist styles of the Heartists and Bolsheviks are complete madness. Where is the beauty? Where is the vitality of the people? We are at a turning point in history, and we need to remember that people like you are, by virtue of your natural beauty and strength, the ruling race. It is in your nature to rule over the world. It is through reclaiming our culture, like through art, that we will also save our people."

By Tanya being the ruling race, he meant that she was a blonde, blue-eyed mage, not this world's version of a goddess with a mandate to rule from Being X. It didn't make a difference if one called it the master race, mandate, goddess, ruling class, royalty, or whatever — Tanya, Sonnetto, and I were not interested in such things.

"Do you agree?"

"Huh," I blinked.

"Do you agree that we need to revitalize our culture?" the would-be dictator repeated.

"Art is not about looking beautiful or strong, but it is about culture," I commented softly with my spell. I had the painting discreetly covering my mouth. "I think it is about helping us hear what we can't hear and see what we cannot see."

"What do you mean?"

"You are touching onto something real and taking it in the wrong direction. I think there is a lot of misinformation in our culture. People are spreading messages — propaganda. That distorts our sense of reality. Couple that with our desire to hear what we want to hear and see what we want to see, and we can't see what is actually going on. Good art should shatter that illusion."

I stared in the corner of the room as the man chewed on my words.

"But you agree with me, though?" he asked as if that mattered most.

"Yes," I lied while my mouth actually said no. My curses allowed me to say anything I wanted under my breath without being heard by those who didn't get me.

Then, I yawn despite myself.

"Sleepy, huh?" someone asked me from my right.

"Yeah, I haven't gotten much sleep this last week."

"Well, if you need to rest after dinner, we have a guest room."

"Thanks," I replied before realizing I was talking to Eva Himmler. "No! I mean, I have some work to do when dinner is over."

"Really? What do you do for work?"

I blinked at Eva's question. How was I supposed to answer this?

"It's complicated," I answered, pinching myself to stay away. "I can't really talk about it."

"You really should find yourself a good husband like my Rudolph. It must be tough taking care of yourself all on your own."

I dumbly nodded, trying to wait for people to give me an out to get the crime stuff discussed discreetly. Elya and Masquerade were way better at this than me. Just tell me where to point my gun instead of having to navigate entrapment.

"Do you have any family? I believe I heard you were an orphan." The woman definitely did not know much about Tanya.

"I have a father and a sister," I stated, wondering what they were up to.

"You know you could have invited them if you liked."

"My father had another dinner with our family, my aunts and uncles and their kids."

"Oh, I hope we were not keeping you from a family gathering."

"No, I wasn't invited."

"Oh my, why?"

I stuttered as I tried to formulate a response. Around me were countless people who were far more extreme than any of my family was. It hit me that I was here pretending to be the Old Tanya and failing that hard.

"You know you could just ask me to help you?" the woman in my soul commented. "No better expert on Tanya than—"

"Me," Sonnetto interjected. "Sorry, dear, but you have to grant me this."

"Political differences," I answered Eva while ignoring the couple being silly inside me.

"Are they…extremists?" the woman pressed with pity in her eyes.

My left eye twitched. "Not the worst kind."

"Well, if you ever need people with a sound head on their heads, you can always talk to us," she said with a warm smile. "You are a hero, Mrs. Degurechaff, and I think my Rudolph would love to have you over anytime."

How do I describe my feelings right now? I can't begin to find words. I think I have even gotten past the point where screams would prove adequate.

"What about your sister?" Eva asked, misreading my inner turmoil. "You mentioned her earlier."

"We actually live together, but she is indisposed right now." In prison because of your husband's insistence.

We chatted about a few more things before the topic inevitably turned to what people like Eva always liked to ask me and my two halves.

"Have you thought about getting married and having children?" Eva inquired, trying to keep my eye contact as I kept glancing at her husband and other guys in the room for evidence.

"I have," I stated while covering my mouth with a napkin. "But I want to find that special someone, if that makes sense, before I think about taking care of another person."

"What do you mean?"

"After the invasion, I mean the war, I had a, I mean, there was a child."

I furrowed my brow. Kakania and Rex blended in my fused mind. Both were here in Germania right now. While Kakania was like my adopted niece, Rex was Roxanne's child. Language did not exist for people in situations like mine.

I took a deep breath as I eavesdropped and just let myself go on autopilot while President Ropen and Rudolph Himmler made a deal over getting the chancellorship.

"Someone who was my son showed up recently, and I don't really know what to think," I stated after the words formed in my mouth correctly.

"You had a child?! I am so sorry."

"Don't be. I was a different person back then. I didn't have a lot of choices. The war cost us so much, and it would ensure the safety of my family and countless others to give him what he wanted. My family prepared me for my purpose, wrapped me up in pretty cloth, and delivered me to him like a Goddess Day gift."

Eva took my hand, causing me to refocus on her. "That must have been really hard for you. I know a lot of women were taken after the war, but you escaped to America, didn't you."

She could see I didn't have a wedding band.

"Uhhh, not immediately, but I ended up there against my will where they tried to…." I couldn't finish my sentence.

"Do you want to stop talking?" She pressed, forgetting about her meal.

I nodded and took my hands back. I realized my hands had started shaking again, so I put them in my lap, which meant no covering my mouth for now.

"I understand if you need some time. My husband and many of his friends have the Rhine Dreams, too."

Despite how surreal this conversation ended up being, I kind of needed it. People kind of didn't talk to me about what happened to Tanya or Sonnetto, who really only had each other and me. Being a fusion, however, prevented our comforting of each other from having the same profound effect of an external source of comfort and support. Matheus, in particular, was not great at asking me questions because he found unfamiliar topics intimidating, and I was like the epitome of unfamiliar topics.

President Ropen noticed our conversation at this point. He knew Tanya von Degurechaff was Agent Nichts because those were state secrets, but he was not privy to my arrest plans. He got me integrated into the conversation with the guys. I decided to use this opportunity to steer things so I could end this dinner before I fell asleep or snapped.

"What is your relationship with the Brown Shirts?" I inquired at the table as I lowered my napkin and pretended to eat.

I couldn't stomach any food right now, even if I would need the calories for my own mana generation. I owed Masquerade and Elya many thanks for doing things like this regularly as part of their work.

"Edwin, Helene, Fritz, and I have been big supporters of that initiative," Gustav answered. "Though I hope you don't mind me saying, we need to do something about Agent Nichts. Her arrests really demoralized them. We expected more from them given how much funding we are giving them."

"Yeah," Fritz Dyssen, a steel manufacturer, popped in with a bit of aggravation. "Rudolph, get the act of the Brown Shirts together. I need them to strike fear in anyone daring to organize at my factories, and this so-called 'Hero of Democracy' is making them look like a joke. We need to take power before we have a communist revolution on our hands. People are getting organized, and without law to push out Interpol and their internationalist Heartist masters, the Brown Shirts can't help us crush the revolution before it happens. It is either us or the Heartists, and I think I speak for everyone here that I will not go down without a fight."

The President coughs into his hand to get everyone's attention.

"Getting that all figured out is part of the deal Rudolph and I have been working on over the last couple of days," the man explained, glancing at me. "But why don't we change subjects."

Well, that explained the negative press I got from the major newspapers who valued their relationship with designated 'leakers' in Ropen's cabinet. 'Leaks' of tolerably embarrassing information had a lot of immediate credibility and could be used to direct policy objectives with plausible deniability. Apparently, my reputation was not as valuable as a cozy relationship with the President's staff and their pre-packaged stories granted to the press, who didn't fact-check them beyond tolerable partisanship slants. Even the national newspapers knew Rudolph was bad news for them, so the dictator-wannabe and them butted heads constantly. The man copied Yockey with the constant Lügenpresse accusations and redirected the source of truth to his own publications. There was no court dragging Rudolph's ignorance through the mud, though.

"No, I am curious," I continued with a crooked smile working itself on my face. "Do you all regularly give orders to the Brown Shirts?"

President Ropen went pale.

"Are you okay?" Eva wondered, looking worried too.

"Just a bit exhausted, so pardon me," I replied, schooling my features with professional ease. "I am just curious how all you got involved with that organization. I have friends in high places who are curious."

That put some of the others in the room who had probably noticed my subconscious enraged glaring that slipped out upon occasion.

What followed was a steady stream of who was involved and how they got involved, as well as how my 'powerful friends' and I could help pool money.

"I need to excuse myself," the President quickly stated as he realized my own bit of underhanded tactics.

"I recommend the porch," I commented with a small grin. "You look like you could use some fresh air."

Once the patio door shut down behind President Ropen, a SWAT team of Interpol agents crashed the dinner at Elya's signal. We could arrest non-mages for magical crimes if they ordered mages to commit crimes. The League of Nations in this world had no issue with arresting rich assholes, as the crackdowns on the Silver Legion's plutocrats and their diaspora demonstrated.

The screams, how familiar — how much did Visha and her family cry to their attacks on Russy? How much did Kakania shut herself in her house because her anxiety went out of control? How many of my friends in the Schönenberg district get brutalized by your thugs when I did nothing? We worked for years to get Schönenberg to become an island of freedom in a world that did not have a place for people like Tanya, Sonnetto, and me. They were about to wipe away all of that.

Despite how well this had paid off, I feared what would have happened had it not. I would have to kill him and his buddies, which might have caused WWII due to how massive a public incident that would have been. A more discreet assassination would have been pinned on the communists. A more overt attack where a Geramania picked up on one of the blendings of Tanya and Sonnetto's mana signatures might figure it out it was me. Then, it would be pinned on the League of Nations.

Now, hopefully, Rudolph Himmler, his brother, and their backers would be headed off to their prison. With any luck, they will spend the rest of their lives in some prison in Tejas with the other war criminals, and Rudolph can write and paint to his heart's content without hurting another person again. I am sure the commies would have liked me to have killed him, but again, pragmaticism required a scapple, not a hammer. Fantasizing about the maximizing suffering of one's enemies was what fascists did, and I would not be like them.

"Good job doing your part, Tanya," Elya messaged me. "Now get some sleep, Sonata. It is my shift, and you have been working way too long."

---

Hotel in Berun - July, 1954

Matheus got back to the hotel after dinner with his family. When the aerial mage opened the door, he noticed a stranger with a rifle over her shoulder and two pistols. He got ready to defend himself only to find that he didn't have his computation orb in the spot it should be.

"Stand down, Matheus," Sonata stated. "Everything is safe."

He came into the room to find the table with five people around it. Two people he didn't know — a middle-aged-seeming native Abya Yalan woman and a young Eastern Mediterranean man. Then there were Sonata, Tanya, and Sonnetto. The fusion was projecting them with optical illusion magic, which was a handy trick. Those three were constantly innovating with their powers to compensate for their unique situation.

Around the room were four Persian Immortals — theoretically unkillable homunculi royal guards that had once served Emperor Cassander.

Matheus slid into a chair at the table. Where to begin…

"Your aunts and uncles were sorry you couldn't come," he stated, deciding to just go with his mental script. "But Kevin said he can visit us tomorrow with his kids. Are you okay with that?"

The three-in-one women had a private conversation before Sonata spoke on their behalf. "That would be fine with us."

"We had a wonderful spaghetti dinner. I brought some back in case you haven't had anything. Did you go out to dinner yet?"

It was late, but Tanya always tended to stay up late when she was working a lot. From Sonata's appearance, they must have been absolutely exhausted.

"We had dinner with another family, but I should still use some food," the fusion replied.

"Oh, that was nice. Did you have fun?"

"No," Tanya signed. From the looks of it, Sonata's thought-to-speech spell had completely depleted itself.

"What did the other family do?" Now, he was worried something really bad had happened.

"It wasn't what they did, but they were going to do," Tanya answered with a rare bout of rage billowing in her wave-like hair.

"What they already did was pretty bad," Sonata added.

"I think Eva was nice," Sonnetto finished, earning judging glances from the other two. "I mean, she meant well even if she was confused."

Matheus didn't know any 'Eva'. Maybe Sonata had finally started dating again.

"That aside," Sonata continued, directing her attention at the unknown young man. "Rex, we have to talk about your choice of friends."

She gestured to the woman next to him, and he wrote something on a piece of paper in Persian as a reply.

"'What is wrong with her?' You ask. Ramona almost killed Sonnetto, Rex." Sonata and Tanya were understandably upset.

Matheus was reeling from that revelation as the young man wrote his response.

"It was only an accident because she was trying to kill Tanya, and Sonnetto got in the way!" Sonata replied. Tanya and she threw their hands in the air. Sonnetto tried to calm them down.

"Excuse me," Matheus interjected. "May someone explain what is going on here?"

Sonata got up and walked up to him. The woman was angry, exhausted, and hungry — the most dangerous combo.

"May I?" she grumbled, gesturing at the leftovers. "I am going to bed soon. Matheus, we will have to have some family conversations, especially after Amber's trial ends, but long story short—" Sonata took some much-needed bites, making it very clear she was tapped out in multiple ways. A mage has to eat. Then, she cleared her throat and finished her thought. "--you might become a grandfather."

He glanced at the young man with a headscarf. The teenager waved at him optimistically.

What in the world happened while I was gone?

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

Cell Block D - La Santé Prison, Francois Republic

Amber "Calamity" Canary lay in a lice-infested cot in La Santé prison that the powers at be had sent her. Because the Republic was a colonial country, the prison leaders divided it by ethnicity and origin. Cell Block A was for Western Europeans, Block B for Black Africans, Block C for North Africans, and Block D for the rest of the world, which included Americans and Abya Yalans like Calamity. A rat squeezed through her threadbare blanket, and she kicked at it weakly.

Her cellmate, a member of the American diaspora, stood next to the wall with her head against the cell wall.

"Stop, Ranty," Calamity wheezed. "Please don't."

Calamity's lungs had filled with flem. With the mana limiters on her arms, her body was becoming increasingly weak. She had a mana body. That meant all of her was magical, so limiting her magic like this weakened not only her immune system but left her in a constant lethargy.

Still, despite that, Calamity got up and went to Ranty. The Francois inmate could understand Albish, so understand her. Ranty had fallen to self-harm and other diseases of despair in one of the centers where inmates waited for their trials. The Tejan held Ranty and soothed the woman until she backed off from the wall once again.

They sat together in their cell. Around them, other inmates attempted to get to sleep. The sound of people groaning from the bruises from beatings the guards had given them.

"What is wrong, Ranty," the Tejan asked, soothing her cellmate, who had become dangerously thin during her hunger strike.

"I am thinking about Henri."

"What about Henri."

"He disappeared before I looked for him."

"He could still be okay," Calamity commented optimistically.

"No, we saw them take him."

"Them who."

"The police and he isn't in the prisons here."

The Interpol officer frowned. "Where do you think they took him?"

"Wherever the ACPO takes those who lift the curtains," Ranty explained cryptically. "The army is colonizing our minds. They use the schools and the press to make us go along with becoming monsters."

The ACPO was the inter-army 'action politique' tasked with preventing 'subversion' in the Francois Republic. They had sued any major publication for defamation that criticized the Republic's foreign policy, particularly around the unconscionable repression activity the Francois army employed to keep their colonies and client-states under their control.

"Let's not think about that," Amber calmly said as she continued to hold the other war mage gently. "What is something you like, Ranty?"

"Music."

"I like myself some Johnny Nash myself. Who is your favorite musician?"

"Frank Sappa and the Machines."

Calamity hadn't heard of this band. The younger folks had different tastes than her. Punk music and all that didn't sound like much to her, but the other woman liked how it challenged the 'system'. Talking about Ranty's favorite singers got her to calm down.

"You know, back in America — I guess Abya Yala now — I often thought that it would be nice to be in prison," Ranty confessed while brushing her short, curly black hair out of her eyes. "I was kind of dumb that way."

"You aren't dumb."

The woman looked up at the prison window and looked at a street in Parii. "I thought it would be nice because, at least in prison, I would know that I would have a place inside to sleep, a bed, and food."

It was a gut punch every time people said these kinds of things. The American Penal Planation system, which took a revolution to abolish, was far worse. Nothing was off the table back then, from convict leasing to extracting and selling a prisoner's very blood. However, the Francois had their own way of making things extra miserable for their prisoners. Ranty had gone on a hunger strike for a reason — many reasons.

While waiting for a trial date, the prison required her to make fancy upholstery as one of the few activities available aside from books exclusively in Francois she couldn't read. There was some training for it, but it was factory work. Her flagging strength and health made doing the work harder than it should have been due to her mana being cut off.

At the end of the first month, the prison warden allowed people to see how much money they earned.

"This seems awfully low," Calamity commented, scratching where the bugs had bitten her.

"It is normal."

"Don't you have a minimum wage here?"

"Labor laws don't apply here, Tej," Ranty muttered, using Calamity's nickname. "You can trade some of your wages with the guards for drugs and such. Two or three joints a day is considered pretty standard here."

The Tejan glanced at her fellow inmates, all in sorry states from beatings, poor hygiene, and other violence met upon their bodies. It wasn't just hash and tobacco but also cocaine. Hash was just cheaper.

"I guess the guards are making some good money," Calamity Amb noted as her heart found a way to sink further.

"Yeah…I am so sorry, Tej, that you are here."

"It is not me that I am worried about, Ranty."

Eventually, Calamity was taken to the first day of her trial. She had a lawyer given to her for much of the hearing. The Tejan had only learned what was going on when her lawyer deigned to tell her. Her jury did not have a single mage on it. Anti-mage sentiment was high, given how much they were depicted as violence-addicted belligerents by the media. The Republic had a bail system, but it was rarely offered to people in her position. Even if it was, Calamity did not have enough money for bail.

The trial proceeded in Francois. From what she could get from her lawyer, the prosecutors were trying to make a case that she was deserved to incarcerated for the murder of a non-mage under international law. Normally, she would be tried in the country in which the murder happened. Since that murder happened in the Silver Legion's Unified States, which didn't really exist anymore and didn't comply with those international laws, the next determination would be her MI team's base location. That would be Germania, which just had a coup and might be on the verge of a civil war, so it ended up being the Francois Republic.

Due to lack of sleep and time to make herself presentable, Calamity Amb had unseemly bags under her eyes, and her hair had gotten so tousled that it looked like a mad woman's. Mana no longer kept her hair vibrant and quite alive. She couldn't even move it with her will anymore. Her lawyer had tried to fix it, but there was only so much they could do at the courthouse. Getting a comb was difficult since there was this fear that she or Ranty would hurt themselves with it if they had it.

Calamity Amb had to wear her magic-sealing shackles and institutional clothes, and the judge explained to her before the jury that it was because the Tejas gunner was a 'high risk' for numerous reasons, like her innate magic. She had not felt like herself since they had taken her clothes, which made her feel like a proper Tejan. Clothes were what connected a person to traditions and history, and losing that history went against Calamity Amb's whole ethos.

"May I have my prayer shawl at least?" she asked her lawyer. "I haven't gotten to pray with it since they confiscated my clothes and things."

"Religious clothes are forbidden in public institutions, but we can see about getting you it for use in the worship room at the prison."

She was agnostic, but she still participated in services and prayers. Part of her wanted in all her pain to ground herself. The traditions of her family would help her focus and pass the time.

"Can I have some Heartist books or really any books in Albish?"

"We can see," he answered while cleaning his glasses. "We can probably get you a Heartist holy books."

Her religion had texts, but they were not like the Swordists, Legalists, or Universalists who put their books as central to their faiths. Still, it would give her something to read. Religion was her path to have something, anything to read.

"Freedom Week is coming soon when we celebrate our ancestors' emancipation from slavery. May I attend a service or allow my family to visit me?"

She was told that the Francois authorities would allow a Heartist teacher to attend her for Freedom Week. I was a bit awkward celebrating that while in magic-sealing shackles and doing penal labor. Unfortunately, her family was inaccessible. Sonata and Matheus could not enter the Francois Republic as M15 and their immediate families were banned from the country. Mary Canary was locked up somewhere in Albion with her descendants. Also, they didn't want her to have any unvetted visitors who might try to break her out.

Calamity understood it was a secularist monocultural thing why she had all these limitations on her in this country. Every country has its customs. In Francois, one had liberty, equality, and fraternity through their cultural lens. Her old-fashioned cultural dress from her homeland and ancient religion did not fit in well with the local secularist and modernist customs regarding how a 'civilized' person should dress or base their morality.

Back in the prison, one of the guards tossed Calamity Amb her shawl like it was just a piece of cloth. It landed on the grimy floor. No place was clean. Dead skin and feces left by the mice and rats now coated the shawl.

Ranty obsessively wrote lyrics in the filth on the ground nearby. People often played games like tic-tac-toe, using the floor as a substitute for pen and paper, which they lacked.

"What's that?" Ranty inquired while hyperfocusing on getting each letter of the song in her head just right.

"It is a prayer shawl I made about thirty years ago with my sister's help. It is my second one. I made my first with my mother, but it became unrepairable after some time. My sister's had a lot of the same patterns so that I could use hers as a reference."

Calamity offered a look at the clean side to Ranty. "The patterns here go back over a thousand years. Each mother teaches her daughters so that they can remember the lessons and stories of their maternal line. Each pattern represents both one mother and one lesson or two. When teaching our kids or telling them bedtime stories, a shawl like this one here comes in handy. It is like a textbook of family knowledge."

"How do you remember what all of it means?"

"Well, how many songs do you know by heart, Ranty?"

"Touche, but singing makes it easier to remember."

"We sing our stories and lessons, too," Calamity added. It was true. Music was deeply ingrained in every culture, even counter-culture. Songs flowed through a people as much as any other part of a people or tradition.

"I am sorry about how he treated your shawl," Ranty said a bit demurely.

The Tejan grimaced. "To be fair, I feel like I am ruining it by just holding it."

One's hands never stayed clean here. There was a way to wash things, but it felt like a futile endeavor when the floors rarely, if ever, were cleaned.

The Francois definitely had a different culture. America had a secular, pluralist tradition built around holding a bunch of different cultures and religions who hated each other together. The Republic took the monocultural route that many other nations had. Secularism didn't bother Calamity too much unless they decided to pull out the ye ol Enlightenment-era catalog of oh-so 'rational', 'bias-free', and 'science-based' justifications for why X group of people were a threat to civilization or the 'white race' or whatever made-up bullpucky the planter aristocracy was peddling to keep the slavery and colonialism going. Anyone who believed that anti-irrational ideology alone would spare them from very human and emotional decision-making was delusional. Such an anti-introspective mindset would likely lead to one giving their irrational behavior a veneer of reason. The more rational one professed to be, the more they can dupe themselves into doing very dumb and very horrible things.

Tanya came to mind for some reason. Speaking of whom, Calamity's association with Tanya von Degurechaff came up a lot at the trial. Calamity was not going to let the prosecutors sully Tanya as some mass murdering Devil of the Rhine of Francois and Aztecs or as the epitome of Silver Legion ideology. The Tejan went to bat to defend Tanya to the jury and prosecutors.

After grilling her on her knowledge of the Aztec genocide, the prosecutor moved to something closer to home for the Francois Republic.

"What are your thoughts on the Arene massacre?"

"It was a tragedy. Everyone in America saw it on every news broadcast over and over while we were getting ready for war. We knew Germania needed to be stopped back then."

"Is that so?" the prosecutor pressed smugly. "Then why did you join MI15 under Tanya von Degurechaff?"

"To escape the Silver Legion. I have said this."

"To work for White Silver?"

"Yes, but I didn't know Tanya von Weiss was White Silver when I transferred," Calamity replied in exhausted, somewhat sickly exasperation.

"But you did see the portrait of White Silver?"

"Yes, but that was a portrait," she stated, desperately trying to offer valuable context. "I didn't want to press the issue."

"Did you know that Tanya von Degurechaff not only oversaw, ordered, and orchestrated the Arene Massacre but wrote the justification for it?"

The Tejan had to think about that. Did she know that? Mary Sue claimed a lot of things about the Devil of the Rhine, but the Mandate of Endings claimed a lot of stuff about her hated foe.

"I didn't believe she did it." Then, she went through her memories, and then something from when the sniper had fused with Tanya snagged. "It was more complicated than that."

"You said that you fled to Zhangzi when Germania refused your asylum request to go back to the Silver Legion, correct?"

She wanted to go back to the previous subject but answered the question before she got in trouble.

"That is so," she said.

"And yet you suddenly show up for duty again in America two years later. Why was that?"

"It was not sudden. There was a plan."

"A plan to save White Silver?" the Francois man pressed. He had a look like he smelled blood.

"Yes, that was part of it."

Her lawyer looked at her like she was insane, but she needed to explain this.

"Did you see the murders of Empress Roxanne and Emperor Cassander of Western Persia during your rescue that happened the same day you killed that non-mage?"

"Yes, I did. Ramona and Sonnetto had complicated reasons for what they did."

"You know this Ramona person?"

"Yes, I took her in as a teenager when she had no one else, and we fought together during the Great War. She is like family."

"You also know that she is wanted in the Francois Republic and Commonwealth for being an anarchist extremist with a history of using explosives?"

"I know she has done…things." Calamity Amb deflated. She suspected Ramona had used explosives to try to kill Arthur Pelley, a man who would lead the Silver Legion into power and the Unified States into a fascist dictatorship. Did she do more than that?

The mention of explosives caused a visible chill among the Parisians in the courtroom.

"Did Ramona Mercer kill Empress Roxanne?" The prosecutor seemed to loom over her at this point despite not moving too close.

How was she supposed to answer this truthfully? Empress Roxanne was already dead, but explaining that would reveal the truth behind Sonnetto's identity and compromise her sister Sonata's future.

"Please answer the question," the judge instructed her when she stalled.

"Yes, but she was trying to kill Agent Weiss."

"Even if that was the case, Mrs. Canary, you stopped her. Mercer listened to your order to stop shooting, according to your report. Why did you stop the sniper from killing Degurechaff if not because you are all allies?"

It was confusing having to deal with the prosecutor insisting on using Tanya's old name even if it was her legal one due to all this crazy stuff that happened in Germania around Mary Sue, the tax office, and her technically unlawful adoption.

"Because Tanya didn't deserve to die!" the Tejan answered, raising her voice noticeably and getting reproachful glances. "She is innocent. I swear. My report also laid out how she was brainwashed."

"You will find that we find a lot of Interpol's reporting highly suspect after the revelations of cover ups to protect Degurechaff's identity. Canary, did you know your sister Mary killed Alexander Magnus when she was working for one of the world's most notorious Silver Legionists, Richard Diamond, as his hired killer?"

"Yes, I did, but she was doing that to protect our familyl."

"You have told us time and time again that you chose your family, and you also acknowledge that your family has been part of mass killings of civilians and the assassinations of world leaders. As I see it, these three people have one thing that links them together, and that is you, Mrs. Canary. The question is not why you defend such people but why you are chose to call them family?"

"Because we are family and we love each other!" She replied weakly despite her desire to raise her voice. "A lot happened that you don't know about and that I don't know about. Degurechaff and the rest of my family are not bad people, I swear."

"I have no more questions for the witness at this point, Your Honor."

Soon after that, recess was called.

Her lawyer got mad at her for not denouncing Tanya. She wasn't trying to say that killing Aztecs was right but that there was more going on than that, like Tanya was under mind control and traumatized, which was hard for her to prove or provide a non-Interpol or communist reference.

Calamity decided to rest her head on the table. It was probably gross to others for her to do that, but she was just so exhausted all the time.

Her lawyer went through his files with her. He didn't want to cross-examine her relationship with Tanya. Basically, the more Calamity Amb defended 'the indefensible', even to provide more context, the worse she looked to the jury. It was better, according to the lawyer, to focus on topics that put the centennial innate mage in a good light. The issue wasn't so much that she had killed a non-mage but what her motivations were. Interpol officers killed people on occasion, and there was understandable suspicion of MIs like Calamity abusing their power. MIs didn't want murder happening in their ranks. Accountability to the people was key to justifying their existence and work.

As her mind began to wander, Calamity stared at the opulent courthouse architecture. Buildings like this were always so fancy, in her opinion. Often the pride of the town back home.

"What are your thoughts on the whole colonialism thing?" Calamity muttered to her lawyer. Lately, it has been a subject on her mind because it is constantly impacting her work. Now, the League of Nations has been cracking down on the practice.

To his benefit, the man entertained the subject with her. He probably understood that she needed a break from the case.

"Well, the way I see it, my country came upon our empire in a fit of absent-mindedness," he claimed with an air of comfortable certainty that came with sitting in well-cushioned chairs most of one's life. "We, as one of the most advanced civilizations in the world, reluctantly found the responsibility of tending an empire thrust upon us. We are doing our best to uplift these people out of their backwardness."

Calamity didn't have the strength to debate with the public defender the Francois had given her. It did strike her as insane to believe that a country stumbled into having an empire. There had to be a lot of intentionality behind that. As an American, her national ethos was deeply anti-colonial, even if its foreign policy had often failed those values. Everything the Albish Empire had done before and during the American Revolution was very much intended to keep them in their place. Calamity guessed the loci of Francois culture did not understand what it was like being under a colonial government.

Still, something about the whole conversation amused her. Trust a public defender to defend the indefensible, the Tejan thought.

After the recess ended, the prosecutors brought out several blown-up pictures of her holding her sniper rifle, and it was pretty cool how big and powerful she seemed in those pictures. They had her talk about how she owned lots of weapons and struggled with war mage issues, which was one reason why she joined Interpol. The war didn't leave everyone, and Calamity had been in several. A lot of non-mage vets joined law enforcement. Mages just had to deal with an extra layer of struggle due to the way magic interacts with the mind. If the prosecutors wanted to paint her as a proud gun aficionado, she was guilty as charged. Few could match her in knowledge of firearms and how to wield them as safely as she could.

It was a bit difficult to know what to do during the trial. The judge had not allowed her to have legal material given to her in prison, and her lawyer had to read her case documents aloud to her at the courthouse. It was a bit weird, but maybe it was just another cultural thing.

As for communicating across the language boundary, some of the juries could understand her accented Albish. Occasionally, the judge would ask her to repeat something because her manner of speaking confused the translator. Still, otherwise, things were going smoothly — not that she could tell how her words were being translated. The prosecutors liked emphasizing her Tejan background and getting her to talk about her home state and the Wild West days. What was wrong with being Tejan or a country gal? Why did the jury look at her funny when she discussed her culture like fried butter at county fairs?

She wasn't dumb or less sophisticated just because she wrangled pigs instead of debating philosophy at some cafe. The cowpokes of the olden days had plenty of thoughts. It was in the doing of things that philosophy was born, after all. In fact, a philosophy that ties your hands behind your back was but hot air and noise. Words get their meaning in action, just as an understanding of liberty and equality was born in resisting oppression. When words got severed from action, concepts like liberty and equality lost their meaning, and one can be convinced that oppressing others was freedom.

The prosecutor brought up her years at Fort Snelling with Colonel Duster. That was rough. It felt really odd having to talk about stuff from eighty years ago. She had changed a lot as a person since then and would accept any punishment deemed necessary for those crimes (which she neither hid nor shied away from), but the Francois prosecutors were not prosecuting her for that genocide. Why couldn't they focus more on her protecting a family from Silver Shirts out to kill them? Her lawyer had to do most of the work bringing that up, but the prosecutors kept going at all these other things.

On the way back to the prison, Calamity saw protestors at her trial near the courthouse. There was a sign in both Francois and Albish that made it clear to the protestors they thought something was unfair about her trial. As for the unfair things, Calamity didn't really know much of what was going on. The trial was so painful in Francois that it bordered, and focusing proved incredibly difficult. She couldn't get anyone from her Interpol team to stand witness to anything since they were all banned from the country due to what they were suspected of having done in Germania.

A healthy culture of protest and radicalism thrived in the Republic. It would be nigh impossible for the APCO to snuff out something that sang throughout the national ethos.

After her armed mage escort deposited her inside La Santé prison, an inmate offered her some cocaine as a friendly gesture. Calamity's health had continued to deteriorate due to the shackles and the poor sanitary conditions of the prison, and some of the kinder inmates had taken notice and, out of kindness and solidarity, tried to help her.

Calamity didn't know what to do with the drug. The racist 'I like seeing Arabs behind bars' guard had been peddling it. His wanton use of beatings and embarrassments of the inmates definitely boosted the sales of such means to temporary escape, Calamity assumed. Sometimes, she saw people boiling things in water to make strange concoctions if they couldn't afford the actual drugs. From the looks of it, a third of all inmates had to become addicted to one thing or another in the overstuffed prison.

Calamity kept her mind away from it. She didn't want to get another addiction on top of her withdrawal symptoms from not getting enough flight hours in. Magic wants to be used, and war mages could never completely escape their need to use it. After mages got convicted, they would typically be sent to the Leech Den, where one received the shackles that drained one's mana steadily into crystals, which would be sold to arms manufacturers for developing new uses for the mana in tanks and other weapons. That drain was vital because it kept the mage mentally healthy. The magic sealing shackles used in La Santé prison did not do that and were really unhealthy for innate mages. It was a cookie-cutter solution that somewhat worked for European mages. Still, it was deadly for followers of the mana body traditions of Asia or people with extremely rare conditions like Calamity's.

When she got returned to her cell, the Interpol officer saw that she wasn't the only one who got some drugs out of kindness.

"Ranty, what did you do?" Calamity asked with her weak voice heavy in worry.

Her emaciated cellmate had gotten on her tiptoes in order to stare out the window at Parii.

"Look at the house slaves." Ranty was high as a kite, demonstrating how she got her nickname.

"There is no slavery in the Republic, Ranty. Come down, please."

But the half-starved woman with her short-cropped black hair, which she regularly cut, just kept going on. "They don't even know they are slaves. Oh, how the house slaves, with their good diction, fancier food, and nicer clothes, love their master more than they love themselves. When the masters are sick, they go take care of those aristocrats with subsidies. They will even agree to sacrifice their privileges as house slaves with some austerity. When their masters' houses catch fire, they will do everything to protect them, even going to war. Anything for their masters."

Calamity didn't have the strength to fight Ranty, so she simply leaned against the other woman, sharing some warmth. The people outside the prison went about their day to their jobs and took care of their families. No one forced them to make chairs or cultivate cabbage. An economy of sex, addictive drugs, and violence did not dominate their lives as it did inside the prison.

The Parisians could fill all their free time with movies and saucy romance novels. They had therapy and proper anti-depressants to help them through tough times. The only violence they had to worry about was curtailing riots and paying taxes to support the Republic's foreign policy.

Calamity saw a young man even pee on a corner of a building, much to the chagrin of a police officer and the other Parisians. As a critic once said of Gerschwin's Parii in Blue, it was all very 'pedestrian', which was meant as an insult, but to Calamity, captured the music of human life. From inside the prison cell, the Tejan could not help but be incredibly envious. Unlike Ranty, who worried about where her next meal would come from out there, Calamity had security in her life activities. She would watch movies, get much-needed therapy, and return to her Interpol job.

"You need to return to wake up, poor child," Ranty whispered as she buried her face into Calamity's long, limp hair.

"But I want to sleep, Ranty," the Tejan muttered in a daze. "I want to see a movie. There was one where I helped on."

"You're already in a movie. The movie will keep going as long as the producers see profit in it. When the producers find the film too expensive to keep going, they will order their crews to pack up the scenery and props. The fancy costumes and the gourmet Hors d'oeuvre table will go away. With the scenery gone, the actors will finally notice the curtain. They will lift it and find a prison wall. The question is not if they will escape, but if they even can by that point."

Calamity was sure that Ranty was paraphrasing something Frank Sappa said. "That's nice," the tall Tejan whispered before falling asleep.

In her dream, Calamity Amb was an actor and a movie star. Everyone loved her. In her big role, she was to play Major Canary, the Tejan Ranger, who fought cartels, chewed bubblegum, and saved dudesels in distress.

In her first big movie in her dream, aliens from outer space land in the Francois Republic. They had gigantic spaceships. The rest of MI15 had joined the cast, and they fought with the people of the Republic against the aliens who had laser weapons, but all seemed futile. Even General Tanya did not know what could be done to win. The futuristic weapons were just too powerful, and several of their fellow humans made deals with extraterrestrials in exchange for putting down the resistance.

The dream shifted as the alien invasion stopped being a movie but became a real invasion in the dream world.

That was when the dream became much more complicated due to these human collaborators working with the genocidal alien colonizers. The collaborators ruled over all the other Francois citizens on behalf of their alien overlords. The collaborators were humans, so they could hide among the resistance movement, where they would sow discord and supply information to the aliens. General Tanya had to crack down on dissent in the resistance just to keep the collaborators from succeeding in their malicious activities.

Most of the collaborators, however, were not sneaking inside the resistance. Instead, they wore alien clothes and acted more like middlemen, governing their fellow Francois people, who were indentured on a massive scale to work picking alien crops and sweatshops. Schools existed for some of the Francois, but only alien languages, customs, and clothes were allowed in a policy of uplifting them into a spacefaring people. Yet, spacefaring never seemed to come. The education seemed awful, like obedience and work education. In fact, alien schools forbade their students from learning the concepts of liberty, equality, fraternity, or anything involving revolution. Francois' history wasn't even taught at all, and those who tried to keep it alive were considered subversive and uncivilized by the alien government. Jokes were often made, suggesting that the Francois didn't have

The dream morphed more wildly at that point, losing all semblance of logic as Calamity tossed and turned. Her body ached. Her heart felt weak, and her stomach roared for food. Tanya's memories of being a starving orphan overlapped with her own in some parts.

At one point, the fever dream became about her ordering soup, but the chef decided to throw her into the soup instead. There, she kept swimming in the cooking pot, trying to get out. Other people inside the pot told her to stop making waves. 'Trying to save herself was futile, and that happiness came from relaxing in the water.'

Still, the Tejan tried to escape. Calamity Amb didn't want to be soup. Climbing out of it alone didn't work. After some salt and vegetables were dumped on the people in the pot, some started helping her. Still, the naysayers kept telling Calamity's group to stop because if they tried too much, the pot might topple over, taking the people who were happy being in the pot with it. The naysayers picked off more of Calamity's group of anti-soupers.

Then, the water started to get hotter. The naysayers kept denying that things were getting worse, saying it was all the anti-soupers' imagination and lies. Yet, the movement built up. Fewer and fewer people were enjoying being in the pot. That was when the chef came back to push Calamity back into the soup. They were so close to toppling the pot, too, and getting out alive.

The dream fell into a raw emotion of hopelessness. Calamity could barely see in this emotional void the former anti-soupers giving up. Each surrender to soupdom further crushed the hearts of her movement until it was all just a large, inescapable silver pot.

Calamity's eyes snapped open as the sun hit her face. She was awake again but in a hospital. Her shackles had been removed, but by the looks of it, very recently.

The doctors and nurses around her had astonished looks on their factions as they chatted in their language, which she still didn't understand.

"What day is it?" The tall Interpol officer wondered. She was supposed to have her next trial tomorrow…from the day she fell asleep.

One of the nurses came up to the Interpol officer and addressed Calamity in Albish.

"It is Thursday, Miss," he answered, making the x as a sign of devotion.

"Well, don't that just add insult to injury? While I reckon that means I got a longer remand in prison until they reschedule my hearing then, huh?"

The nurse grabbed Calamity's hand as a comforting gesture.

"Miss, by some miracle, you survived. We couldn't get calories in you fast enough to get your mama levels up. The Goddess must surely love you and grant you a miracle."

Calamity noted the glowing silver sigil on her hand. Everyone took notice of it.

"Well, she definitely loves me, even if she would never admit it, that proud ol' gal; however, my friend doesn't take kindly to being called goddess."

It was the honest truth, but the nurse seemed offended by it. Well, it is what it is. Calamity has been putting her foot in her mouth this whole damn time in the Republic, making enemies of everyone despite not meaning harm with her words. Like Sonnetto, she liked to tell it as it was and give some old-fashioned wisdom to boot.

Then, her chosen sisters, using the Solidarity link, messaged her mind.

"This is Sonnetto. Calamity, thank goodness. I thought the Francois killed you at first before news came of your trial and delay over your health condition. Over."

"This is Tanya. We are glad you are doing well. When we noticed your connection to us was restored, we expedited some mana to you. Over."

"This is Sonata. What they mean is that we are glad you are alive and well. Do you know when your trial will be over? Over."

"Calamity here. I was supposed to get my verdict about two days ago. Still in legal purgatory as they decide if I should be punished or not yet. Over."

"Tanya here. We have an urgent situation in Germania right now where there could be a civil war that leads to a world war. We need your help. Over."

Tanya provided the rundown of the situation. First, a majority Southern Germanian faction had rallied against the majority Northern Germanian faction's attempts to create a post-plutocratic government. The revelations of the conservative President Ropen's collusion with Rudolph Himmler to stomp out trade unions and socialists from the country had an incendiary effect on those who already believed something was seriously wrong with the country.

The Imperial countries spun this turn of events as 'Federation Imperialism and meddling'. The Francois, Albish, and Americans had sent weapons, funding, and advisors to the Southern Germania 'capitalist' faction, attempting to 'de-escalate' the situation by putting out the fires of revolution. Their intervention forced the Russy Federation and its allies to support the multi-tendency Northern 'socialist' faction. The imperialists spun the speed at which the Russys deployed as a sign that they had been fulminating revolution and had planned all of this. Apparently, the Russys were mostly worried about Himmler because the man advocated replicating America's Destiny Manifest upon Eastern Europa and throughout Federation territory as part of what he called 'Lebensraum'.

Of course, the Federation communists, who hate fascists already, were on edge. Germania was a superpower for a reason, and it could go toe-to-toe with most of the world. The idea of Germania being under the control of Himmler was an existential crisis for them. That was why the Federatopm had put Ramona Mercer, Borislava Kransi, and many other mages in Germania as a backup plan. Unfortunately, Tanya may have done too good of a job uncovering Himmler's plans and explaining them to the public due to her future knowledge, causing countless Germanians to lose confidence in their government and creating this civil war fiasco.

The Western European leaders were confident they could cow the Russy Federation because the Francois Republic and the Commonwealth both had superweapons. The Russy Federation had to rush to catch up with the Republic's arcanium bombs. Creating city-destroying weapons was not something sane people did. Destroying cities alone was a war crime because civilians lived there.

The Francois got pissed about Arene?

"Calamity here. What do you need me to do, Captain von Weiss? Over"

"Tanya here. We need you to assist us in depriving the Commonwealth of your sister in order to bring them to the bargaining table and avert war. Over."

"Calamity here. It is about damn time. Over."

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

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/>

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

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>

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

(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

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

I kind of miss having feedback, but I hope those who are sticking with me despite not really having editors are still enjoying the story a little bit.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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>

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

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.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

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.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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>

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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."

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/>

 

[Louker]

Make sure you thread mark
I will let you know I have been greatly enjoying these recent chapters

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

Make sure you threadmark

Click to shrink...

Thank you. I did an edit and also added the threadmark. I am glad you are still reading the story.

 

[LoreleiFlowers]

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.