Struggling to survive.
Why, oh why, are we always just struggling to survive? Is there no hope for us beyond this useless struggle we call war? Are we as a peoples doomed to continue repeating the same mistakes of our fathers? Or will we finally break the cycle? Will we finally take meaningful action and change the course of things to come?
He hated them.
He was born in total hell. Literally. His name? Fiske Tyris. His mother, bless her soul, was Cara, and she'd wanted the best for Fiske. She'd given up everything to get him into that tournament. It had changed him – and he'd given her a new life for it, a home in the palace. A chance to finally live in peace. But it wasn't enough.
K2323 had abandoned them. All those years ago, K2323 had abandoned Cara, and Fiske had grown up without a father figure. And then, years later, he'd expected it to be as simple as reuniting with Cara. And honestly, Fiske had wanted it to be that simple. He genuinely had wanted to forgive his father. But. He. Couldn't.
And so, he'd kept the hate lingering within him. He'd smiled when they told him to smile, and he had been a good ruler and become a member of the family. But... He'd kept something hidden. Many things, in fact, hidden. And today, all the secrets were going to be revealed.
Today was the day that the master had promised.
They'd found Fiske shortly after the Battle of Plex. Those people. Zarethians with a plan to take back their government from those who had ruled it for years. A plan to infiltrate it and launch a war between the Relorians, Archive, and the Zarethians. And it had almost worked. But one critical thing had gone wrong. Their pawn that they used to try and launch this war – Green Zero – felt guilty and tried to speak up and reveal this master plan.
They'd approached Fiske and asked him to help. He took in Green Zero, and convinced his father that the boy had changed, and that he could work with the K Empire. He'd been Green Zero's handle. And when Green Zero tried to speak up, Fiske had almost been discovered. Almost.
But his Zarethian friends in The Organization that had recruited him took action. They'd used their pawns – the Zarethian Hand – to assassinate – or at least to attempt an assassination – on Green Zero before he could reveal the secrets he had. That was the biggest mistake The Organization made. After that, it was only a matter of time before Eric Mann, another key pawn, was discovered. The plan to take the Zarethian government by storm had failed.
Why, you might ask, would Fiske concern himself with a Zarethian coup? The Organization wasn't that simple. They were part of something so much bigger. They followed The Master and did what he told them to do. And he had a plan. Fiske remembered it all. All so clearly.
Meeting The Master had been inspiring. Those eyes. Those rainbow eyes. And Fiske felt... Entranced by The Master. That's when The Master said all those beautiful things. He didn't say those things, though, so much as he... Well, he touched Fiske. He touched Fiske's memories, his minds, and brought him into that place. Into that world. That beautiful world.
Fiske knew that he had to listen to The Master. The Organization was a Zarethian one, but it would be of great benefit to the K Empire. It would be able to prosper financially from a Zarethian coup. And even when the coup had failed, the K Empire had still benefited. Fiske made sure of it. And in return, the K Empire helped lay the organization for the coup – sabotage, gaining intel, funding. And much more.
Fiske had done these things in secret. His brother, the Emperor, knew not of these things. Nor did his father or anyone else in the Royal Family. He'd worked secretly and carefully. He'd been the mastermind behind it all, with the only exception of The Master. He'd taken over The Organization's leadership. Planned every little detail of Eric Mann's attempted coup.
And now it was time for a coup of a different sort.
At long last, Fiske had done it. The Master had given him the tools as a reward for his loyalty to The Organization. He'd received everything he needed to gain power in the K Empire, to rule the kingdom his father had created. It was his. Rightfully his. He deserved it after everything his father had done. He was going to take it at long last.
It was finally time to become the new king of the K Empire.
Today was the day. Fiske walked through the palace halls, listening to the deafening silence filled only my the sound of boots. He was surrounded by his personal guard, about five other men. Everyone else was outside the palace right now. As Fiske walked through the halls, he felt the strange feeling of finality. He didn't know why, but for some reason, he thought that today may very well be the last day he ever stepped foot in these halls.
He hoped he was wrong.
He and his men turned down a new corridor and entered the luxurious foyer of the palace. He stopped. Holding out his hand, he materialized Corege. His faithful sword. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he turned to one of his guards.
“Is everything set?”
“Yes, sir. The Anrufe's AMR should kick in any minute now. The city's defenses are rigged, ready to blow on your command.”
“Right,” Fiske replied. He paused. Walking over to the large statues that decorated the foyer, several stories high, he admired it. A statue of his father. Founder of the K Empire. No matter what happened today, this man was still Fiske's father. Maybe Fiske couldn't forgive his father, but it still hurt to know that what Fiske was about to do would hurt his father. But it was something that had to be done. Things had to be made right.
With one last glimpse at the great statue, he turned, facing his guards, nodding. “Let's go.”
“Right!” they replied in union.
They piled out of the palace doors, and Fiske followed slowly behind. Looking over his shoulder, he got one last glimpse at the palace he loved so much. If something went wrong, this would be it. If something went wrong, he would never be able to call this place home again. It felt sad in a way, and he almost wanted to cry, but decided that tears were best left for after the battle had been fought.
Turning, he held his head high and walked out the palace doors, ready to begin his new journey.
Stepping out into the bright sunlight, Fiske heard music. No, not real music. It was music in his head, but it was beautiful, that sound. The notes stringing together, the harmony of the instruments, the orchestra's majestic sound. He made a mental note. If he won here, he would transcribe these notes. It would be an anthem. An anthem to his new kingdom. An anthem to the K Empire.
Motioning for his guard to go ahead, he listened to this beautiful concert in his brain as the explosives went off. All over the city. He could see it from here in the Palace Courtyards. Smoke, all over the city. He could hear distant screaming. He could feel the entire platform that the city was built upon shake as the defenses crumbled beneath them, falling into the void of the pocket dimension, far below the ground they were standing on now.
He walked forward, calmed by this music. He and his guards walked for miles, among the screaming, among the destruction, far from the palace into the city. He could see the tears. He could see the death. He was not moved. He was calm and his face showed no emotion.
Buildings all over the city were in ruin. The streets were falling apart. Eight years ago, that would have been a problem. The people would fight back. But Fiske had set out to make sure that couldn't happen. Over the years, he'd convinced his brother to impose strict regulation. The K Empire was very authoritative. Weapons were few for the civilian populace. Even magical training was insufficient to hold off an army.
Especially if it was the K Empire's own army they were fending off against.
In the center of the city, they were waiting. Hundreds of troops, lined up in perfect formation, waiting. Fiske finally reached them, standing before them. Salute. In perfect union, they gave him that salute. They were his. His to command. His to control.
“Gentlemen!” he announced, magic carrying his voice through the crowd. “This is it. This is the moment we have all waited for! Today we march through these streets. Today we destroy the old empire and begin anew. Today we crush the opposition! TODAY WE END THIS TYRANNY! IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE MASTER!”
“In accordance with the master!” came the replies, in union still, harsh, loud.
“MARCH!”
It. Had. Begun.
