Sovereign

“We are planting the seeds for the sins of our sons.”

- Unknown

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State of Lieplatz

Province of Moldheim

City of Rumpaltz (Lockdown)

January 18, 2025

For days the Twin “Academy” Cities of Rumpaltz and Eventia had once again experienced a complete lockdown under the orders of the Junta. The streets of the night were almost silent around downtown, as roving squads of the Junta’s troops patrolled each alley and street. The curfew was tight, and no woman nor man would survive being caught out in the open regardless of any reason at this point.

The State of Lieplatz, by all means, turned into a nightmare for the citizenry of Lieplatz, especially for the progressive “liberalized” cities of Rumpaltz and Eventia. When the orders for a full “lockdown” arrived after the scattered reports of fighting around Moldheim, the citizens already anticipated the worst, but they hadn’t had the chance to change things. Hide and comply, that was the only thing they could do.

“The Junta is becoming ever more controversial, General Richstoff,” The Federal President of Orland, Sullivan Rimpler, remarked as he exited the armored vehicle that carried him to downtown Rumpaltz. General Paul Richstoff merely chuckled as the two walked forward, flanked by the General’s personal guards. “But, I see how you are doing with this one. Everything seems to be going well?”

Faint distant gunshots could be heard, and the two of them barely noticed it. Many more trucks were descending down through the roads, as troops erected roadblocks or machine gun nests. The two of them almost stopped to remark about the citizens of Rumpaltz shutting down their lights whenever a military truck or HMLV passed through, but they carried on.

“It’s just to control the dissidents. Lieplatz is at risk of breaking apart. But I would never allow that to happen.” General Richstoff said, looking at one of the apartments being raided on their side. It was dark, and the two of them passed as nothing but unsuspecting officers walking around, but they watched closely as the Junta’s troops shouted and pulled out dozens after dozens of civilians, mostly women, and ordered them to face down the cold asphalt. “These academics. Sages. Nothing but sorcerers, I say. We’re going to control them. Both here in Rumpaltz and Eventia. They can scream and resist. But they’re not going to survive our bullets.”

“Hmm…” President Rimpler didn’t look back, as scattered gunfire from SMGs rang off behind them. “Perhaps, don’t you think, you’re going too far in this anti-women dissident operations? I mean, I know you were wronged back then, but so are we—”

“Wronged? You call it that way? Mr. President, you and I know what these women did to us. For centuries. In the Great War. We gave them all we had, and they repaid us not even an ounce of empathy. Yet I was merciful. We were merciful. We allowed this city to operate freely, even with some restrictions for a while. Yet they turned it into an organizing hub for their rebellious plotters,” General Richstoff’s eyes were almost shaking, and President Rimpler stared at his nearly bulging eyes with steel attention. “They are getting what they deserve.”

“Is this but revenge then?” President Rimpler asked. “Because if this gets out, the revolution’s honor will take a hit.”

“Honor, honor, honor. Don’t play me an infant, Mr. President. What honor? We have none of that,” he closed toward him, as faint flashes of gunfire illuminated his face and eyes. “Honor, Mr. President. Honor. You overly romantic Orlishmen, even those in Asturia, or those Confederates speak of it sometimes as if it’s gospel. Honor. What honor do tattered dogs have such as us? We are monsters. They see us as monsters. And they will murder us all like monsters. This, Mr. President, is a war of survival. Of survival of men. There will be no honor. Only savage survivalism.”

“You are endangering your chances of being in the Coalition of Free Nations, General Richstoff. I want Lieplatz as our strategic ally, all of us do. But with what you are doing…this is nothing more than a state-sanctioned genocide. You are making a mistake.”

“Genocide? Then by all means, all these Queens and Empresses can accuse my name of genocide against womenkind for murdering a few thousand rebels in my country. I’ll answer them straight in the tribunal. WHAT OF THE TENS OF MILLIONS OF MY DEAD BROTHERS?! This is not even an eye for an eye. They should be thankful I am rational enough to only murder those who turned against my junta.”

President Rimpler internally shook his head. And they call me an insane extremist. A lunatic. But I’m not like whatever this guy is. One wonders what exactly screwed his brains that he’s like this. This is the equivalent of making a deal with the devil. The Federal Republic’s interests naturally aligned with obtaining Lieplatz as a northern ally, which was why they had supported General Richstoff’s coup d’etat. What they didn’t expect was for him to turn out into a murderous lunatic who loved spilling both the blood of Lieplatz’s men (who sided with the original revolutionary government) and women all to keep power in his hands.

So far, out of all the juntas that men formed, most had stayed moderate and refused to directly target civilian women outside of extreme cases. The Asturian Junta democratized quickly, and so did the Hebei Junta, and even the Confederacy was now holding an election in the middle of a civil war. And while President Rimpler would say that his Federal Republic was undeniably a borderline dictatorship, he had already begun organizing his state in the direction of a “future democracy” for Orland (though, Rimpler would never allow it to be anything but a controlled democracy for him to “guide”).

On the other hand, the Lieplatz Junta had participated in mass purges of female politicians and noblewomen, raids against magical academies (filled with innocent young women) to shut them down and “imprison dissidents”, all while General Richstoff consolidated power around him as swathes of high ranking officers of the Lieplatzan Armed Forces mysteriously disappeared and died.

Even Rimpler could feel chills from it. While he would not deny that he “dealt” with a lot of his opponents in “less gentle ways”, he never did it at scale. And he would never purge Heindhöff and the Orlish High Command unless they fully turned disloyal.

It seems like you, General Richstoff, want a dictatorship around you and you alone. This is becoming distasteful. I should perhaps reign in the overenthusiastic officers of the Republican Guard to prevent that incident from happening again. I don’t want to look like this guy.

“Look, these rebels. They’ll fail to organize,” President Rimpler said. “You’re suppressing them well precisely because they are weak. Queen Wesley isn’t going to return to Lieplatz. These women nobles, they’re in hiding. They’re afraid. They’re going to stay alone in their estates before confronting you. You are wasting bullets better spent fighting those who can fight.”

“You mean the Orlish Queen? Why yes, I do know why you are deadset on having us, Lieplatz on your side, Mr. President. You want more troops to help the Federal Republic against her. And I agree. We are in the same fight. But my patience is running thin. All these ‘anti-atrocity’ inspection operations you are sending to my country are sending the wrong messages to me. Are we friends or not?”

“We are friends, yes.” President Rimpler quickly answered. “The question is, would you be a worthy friend of Orland? Orland loves its reputation, General Richstoff. And if Lieplatz would drag its reputation down into the mud…even friendship wouldn’t last, don’t you think?”

“You need me, Mr. President. Not the other way around.”

President Rimpler smirked, before looking at one of General Richstoff’s guards, who were silently conversing with the President’s personal guards. “Hey! You.”

The guard stood stiffly in attention, saluting the President of Orland for a split second. “Sir!”

“Tell me, where does your gun come from?”

“This one sir? This was manufactured in Eirhow. I-it’s a good gun, sir. All of Lieplatz thanks our brothers in the south, yes.” The guard tried backing off, as he didn’t understand why General Richstoff turned irate. He was instructed to remain friendly in order to prevent complications. He didn’t want to offend the President, and as instructed, he followed his training. Be friendly as much as possible.

President Rimpler looked back at the now irate General Richstoff. “No, you need me, General Richstoff. What’s your puny country going to do if the Royalists cross the border to put you down? You would be able to do nothing. And then, it would be me, I would have to deal with your blunder. Make no mistake, Lieplatz will be Orland’s good little boy. Just like how Queen Wesley was Queen Areya’s good little doll. You will reign in your bloodthirst. You will.”

“Mr. President, we should not be disputing ourselves over this disagreement. You should be in my camp. This is the only way for us to deal with these people. You have to agree with me. You should be the one following this system I’m creating.”

“You will follow the Orlish System, General Richstoff. You will not turn Lieplatz into your personal fiefdom of death. You think you can kill off your political opponents, your fellow junta members without me knowing. No, I and the OIA placed you there. I can sniff you from the confines of my personal office in Eirhow. And only one word from me and you are dead. You are nothing without me. And thus, you will follow me.”

“Mr. Presi—”

“I am not asking, General Richstoff. I am demanding. I want this nonsense to end quickly. I want this media blackout that’s giving us bad optics to end. I want your troops preparing for a land war rather than shooting unarmed civilians. Young women who are already without their wands. This is a clown show. A bloody clown show that goes against our narrative. A clown show I want to be ended, now. And I want you to stop voting against our terms in the Loviedo Conference. Is that clear?”

General Richstoff didn’t flinch, merely looking at the furious eyes of the Orlish President. He was shorter than President Rimpler, and so he had to look up at his serious eyes. President Rimpler certainly wasn’t going to beat around the bush after seeing what was happening in his potential ally. And as far as President Rimpler was concerned, he wanted a proper ally. Not a liability.

But General Richstoff was dying internally inside. He indeed did think that his position was fully secured…until his main foreign supporter turned out to be hostile to his ideas. General Richstoff almost chuckled at the absurdity of his situation.

“You are holding a pistol against my head, Mr. President.”

“I am, General Richstoff. I am. The question is, do you want to try your chances with it?” General Richstoff stopped laughing to himself, as it all settled down. “Because I’m sure it won’t be very amusing for you either if our working deal goes sideways.”

“Fine, I’d rather not.”

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” President Rimpler smiled, before extending out his gloved hand. “Friends?”

Letting out a bitter laugh, General Richstoff reluctantly shook the hand, his resentment still heavy. “Yes. Exactly. Friends.”