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 Mayan 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 Mayans.
  • 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

---

Munich, 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 Munich 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 Munich.

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.