The Black Isle

Day 11, Grand Mountain Bridge of Ganjarius

The highway bridge was a smouldering, burning ruin that lay destroyed and burning in the gaping canyon beneath, for what seemed to be a method of warding off rivals. Pathetic. Lara and Ulurq almost died carelessly driving down the eight-lane bridge, listening to their decade-old Top 40 music discs in the radio and taking in the awe-inspiring scenery that the mountain range gave.

Lara jarringly lifted her head off the airbag that it was thrown into as Ulurq forced the car to stop as such speeds in order to save them both from dying in a canyon,

"Fuck- My neck, why didn't you just turn or something." Lara croaked, rubbing the back of her neck,

"Abandoned cars, I know better than to drive into those rotten, leaking pieces of shit rust." He replied, shaking slightly from shock,

"Well... Christ, how didn't you see a half-collapsed bridge you blind prick." Lara complained, trying not to lose the argument about Ulurq being at fault or not,

"You know better than to put my favourite CD on in a mountain range where would could slip and fall at any moment. You know we Tenebrar can get absorbed into music, in a partially literal sense." He replied in a snarky tone,

"Yeah, yeah, your vision gets taken over by weird shapes and shit, it never got proven by those lab rats so quit using that excuse." Lara snapped, before laying her head on his shoulder, expecting Ulurq to turn back and take the route through Karandin. It was much more dangerous, but their only option if they didn't want to take a walk.

---

Day 15, 'Golden City' of the Karandin Ruins

The bar seemed like it was falling apart, there was only two, rather dim, light sources and there was almost no alcohol behind the bar-area. This, however, didn't deter Lara and Ulurq from drinking their troubles away in such crumbling bar, assuming the townspeople would support their flailing, drunken bodies in a few hours.

"Y-You know Lara, you have massive love-handles." Ulurq stuttered out, with a bottle of vodka in his left hand,

"The fuck did you s-say about me you little bitch, I have you kno- know.." Lara shouted at Ulurq, in a broken and slow manner before slamming her bottle onto the table and getting up to grab his collar. Of course, Ulurq drunkenly retaliated and push Lara aside before smashing the side of his bottle onto the table and threatening bystanders. He was promptly thrown out of the door, into the main square of Golden City, onto the cold, drenched stone that was covered in dirt and mud. The same was done with Lara, bet less violently.

They half-heartedly apologised to eachother, and leant on one another's shoulders as they stumbled their way back to the car, singing Firetwerks by Lacy Kerry.

---

Day 21, 'Karandin Outskirts

Lara had heard about this part of Karandin, psychopathic artists had fled here in a large group just after the Crisis. They propped and formed odd scenes and shapes with the dead, the corpses of the damned, they painted disturbed images that only the thoughts of the truly insane and disgusting could even begin to formulate. A detachment had been sent here when Lara still had reign over Cronaal but it went missing when it approached the area, there was no communication and no found signs of any conflict when the government went investigating. But the highway passed through the Eastern outskirts, and there was no other choice.

Ulurq's car rolled into the area, with little speed. As he inched down the street, him and Lara could view dead soldiers from both Nebula and Burning Mountains, propped in crude, sexual positions the insulted them in their dead state. Lara wanted to be sick.

It had been a few monthss since the Ravens had been dispatched to Cronaal, a few of the teams had been out and about and had found disguises but most were laying, waiting for any word. Lieutenant Adams and his team had been dropped in the city, he was certain he had seen somebody matching Kray's picture stealing a car as they snuck out into the countryside, trying to find somewhere to go to ground for the night. They looked around their current location and he shook his head, Sgt Wils, his second in command was investigating the obscene scarecrows "They're Nebs sir... not too sure of the others..." she sighed, holding a nebulan insignia in her left hand. Adams shook his head "May Marwolaeth give them peace..." "Never struck me as the religious type sir?" the young woman tilted her head, Adams shook his head in reply "I've seen a lot of things Sergeant, a lot of atrocities and abominations... but this land... it's sick, perverted, if it weren't for our orders I'd happily see it burned to ash..." he sighed, suddenly they heard the approach of a car, the nearby highway, the squad adopted ambush positions and observed carefully, the sniper, Gerrik, preparing his shot, ready to take out the driver "Killshot sir?" "No, shoulder, we might be able to pick up some intel from them..." Adams sighed, knowing he may well have to torture the passengers.

Nebulan drones captured footage of the terrible place. Once that footage made it back to the people, outrage spread quickly. The Nebulan military command was ordered to begin surgical strikes on the area to destroy the sickening sculptures. The commanders happily complied.

Each day, Nebulan bombers fitted with warning sirens flew over and launched small missiles at the sculptures. The missiles carried incendiaries and the bodies were burned by the strikes. The people roared their approval of the actions. A larger military presence was called for to stabilize Cronaal.

Adams saw the Nebulan strikes and cursed loudly "F---ing Nebulan idiots! They're going to bring the damn ghouls down on us! Gerrik, take out that car now!" prompting the sniper to switch his aim to lodge the round in the back seat through the windscreen, enough to stop the vehicle but not harm the occupants, the shot didn't require much in the way of calculations but it would be a close miss not to hit the driver but he managed it, the Raven's stood and aimed their p-90's at the car and began to slowly walk onto the highway. It was obvious they weren't local in any sense of the word, their unique masks being the only clue as to their nation of origin.Adams looked to Wils "Sergeant, next time we find a radio remind me to message the Nebulan Supreme Air Commander quote "Stop shooting at us you stupid Bastard..." prompting his second-in-command to nod, laughing slightly.

"Sir?"
"What is it?"
"We've a message from Wolfsea."
"Make it brief."
"Apparently their forces are in the ghoul zones and they want us to stop bombing there for their safety."
An awkward silence followed.
"Lieutenant?"
"Yes, Commander?"
"Not a word of this to anyone."

Day 23, North of Karandin

The car was parked on the side of the road, the rain pattering on the windows whilst Lara and Ulurq lay in the seats, looking out at the mountains around them. All the couple wanted to do was forget everything that'd happened, pretend Cronaal was safe and rich and a power in the world again so that they could rest properly for the first time in two years. But in the back of their minds, they both knew it wasn't going to happen. Cronaal was a wasteland and there was no hope of control, not now and not ever.

"Lara. You still never told me how you lost control..." Ulurq asked, in a tone that showed attempt in trying not to offend her,

"You've asked before and I keep telling you No!" She replied, shoving her face further into his chest,

"Just tell me... We'll end up seeing why anyway, when we go to Ganjarius."

"Yo- You know what, fine!" She moaned as she flipped her arms in the air slightly and sat up, ready to tell a long story.

---

13 Months Earlier, West Kray Tower Office

Lara was leaning on the interior of the glass pyramid that roofed her office, that sat upon the tallest floor of the tower that reached above the tallest clouds and above the mountains of Cronaal to overlook the grandest summit in the North Pacific, her city of Ganjarius. However, she was not proud nor excited, she was deathly afraid and held a handgun in her right hand, that was tensed up on her chest. She was afraid of her own brother, Chester Kray, who'd been giving her demands and threats for the past several months, murdering ambassadors and slaughtering Crol people in an attempt to tear Lara's power from her. He'd gone truly and utterly mad, and Lara was next on his hit list.

Lara's eyes were tearing up as she could hear the footsteps of several men, in heavy clothing. Then they stormed in, she looked at the intruding men whilst backing herself up into a corner and trapping herself.

"What the fuck do you want Chester!" She screamed, crying, and pointing her gun at him,

"Your power, and your country. I want it all." He spoke in a cold, unemotional tone. He'd always been jealous of his sister, always more successful and talented than him in even childhood, so loved by everyone she met and spoke to, the magic mirror would've called her the 'fairest of them all',
"You don't have to make this difficult, you can just say Yes and I'll simply throw you out of here myself with a few cuts and bruises, I wouldn't want to eliminate by 'dearest' sister." He spoke, ending sarcastically, whilst motioning his two bodyguards to point their weapons at her and moving out of her firing range.

She had no choice, to live she had to give up all she cared about,
"Fff- faahh- Fine.." She squealed out whilst crying, and trying to get up of the floor.

At this, Chester nodded and kicked her jaw with as much force as he could, knocking her unconscious.
"Get rid of her, and call in the other teams. This shithole is mine now." He spoke to his guard,

"Yes, Master Caledon." The soldier replied.

Adams cursed loudly, the Nebulan airstrikes had brought dozens of Ghouls down on them. They were lucky that the Wolvesh military doctrine had such a heavy focus on close-quarters combat and that the ghouls were close to feral but they hadn't gotten away unscathed, both Fleischer and Robbins, the younger members of the team, had numerous bitemarks on their arms and legs. The injuries had been treated but Adams wanted to get them proper hospital treatment just to be sure. The team had struck lucky however and had found an abandoned farmhouse with a small transistor set, it was old but it didn't take long for Wils to get it working again. The first thing they heard was how a large explosion had been seen in the countryside to the far west, one of the places they had suspected was a bioweapon cache "At least one of our teams is achieving something out here..." he cursed, thinking back on the driver they had nearly shot down, he was certain it had been Lara Kray. It was clear that she was still in full command of her faculties but it had been lucky in a way that he hadn't stopped her. He looked over to Wils as she finally got a location for a Trinnish field hospital. The next morning they would pile into the abandoned pick-up out in the barn and make their way there.

Day 29, The Kray Monument (Between Karandin and Ganjarius)

A large, geometric boulder lay in the centre of an even larger plaza. The site overlooked the Jade River, that passed through the Tyrath-Ganjarius Mountains, and had a view of the colossal, but distant, Lake Pel that could leave even the simplest, mundane in awe and shock. Within the plaza was a small tribal settlement, built up by a group of survivors who wished to live their life within the tall peaks and bitter air, in true spirit of a Crol. However, the supplies were running out and there wasn't many options for collecting from the environment, much of the abandoned traffic had been picked clean and cannibalism was out of the question.

When Lara and Ulurq came in, giving out some of their food, they were praised like gods above who blessed their lands with harmony and all things good.

"Praise, hail, the woman and the Tenebrar! Saving us from destitution, even if for only some weeks, we must appreciate all we are given!" The Chief announced to his people, his eyes lit up and energy at peak,

Lara looked excitedly at Ulurq, some positivity in their lives was well received, nothing but bad news seemed to meet them at their doorstep, and at a monument celebrating her very existence. Such an astounding boost to one's ego. Ulurq, on the other hand, felt quite unchanged by the events at hand, all he and Lara had done was give food to people who would eventually eat each other, no matter what their paths led to. He kissed her on the forehead.

---

Day 37, First Ganjar Checkpoint

Gunpoint. Lara was at gunpoint.
The looter grabs Lara by her scalp and threw her across the paved ground, scraping some of her skin. The car was filled with food and water, a scarcity to have in such bountiful amounts, so appetising and coveted and in a place like Cronaal. Meanwhile, Ulurq was waving a sledgehammer around in the vicinity of fruit, something so utterly valuable that they'd become the staple of several newfound cultures in the nation. Still, they shot Ulurq in both legs, rendering him unable to continue threatening the food.

"What the fuck! Get off-" Lara screeched, before getting a large stone pelted at her.
"Asshole!" She added, after recovering.

The looters were hitting the car with whatever they could, throwing rocks at the windows, damaging the tires and hitting the body of the vehicle, whilst removing its cargo. It seemed all hope was lost, until the looters began to turn away from Ulurq and Lara and turning on each other. Petty, un-unified, only alive because they were liars and cheats.

"Hey! Fuck off that fruit-" One bellowed, before getting a hammer thrown at their jaw from a man being jumped on from behind,

"Little bloody, argh!" Screamed another, being stoned to death near the car,

It was Lara's chance to grab Ulurq and run, and so she did. Grabbing Ulurq by the arm, with such a tight grip it hurt, and dragging him until he got up himself, they rushed through the road-toll gates. Lara's forehead was dripping, Ulurq in agony from a bullet in his right hamstring.

Caledon was standing at his desk, in the office at the peak of the West Kray Tower. He had a small recording device near his mouth, whilst looking over the skyline of the city he ruined and left in ruins, left to burn whilst he sat in his leather chair and ate his fruit.

"My name is Ches-" He coughed,
"My name is Caledon, I reign over the city of Ganjarius, capital of the former nation of Cronaal. I've been forced to kill, forced to murder so many people, hundreds, maybe thousands, just to keep my own place in this shithole. I have not one regret." He paused for a moment, observing the sunset and hoping his sister was dead,

"I believe, I believe that I am invincible. Miles of this city burned and destroyed, torn to pieces by me, every person who has crossed me has been slaughtered. I love it. I could destroy any city in this wasteland with the click of my fingers, who thought it was a good idea to build a nuclear silo in Ganjarius." Caledon laughed slightly, a large grin on his face,

"All things must end though. Not me though, Lara. However much I wish her dead, maybe thrown into a mud ditch in some backwater of Larineth - the flooded province in the South - it won't be so. I will have to eliminate her myself, soon enough. She is a fucking thorn, a bloody fucking virus that wont piss off! I despise her, I would kill myself to make her simply die!"

He stopped recording, and threw the device off the Kray Tower through a broken area of the pyramid. He was furious.

Day 37, Side of Highway 8 into Ganjarius

Lara, Ulurq with his arm round her neck because he only had one unharmed leg, collapsed onto the concrete road, scraping some of her skin and putting Ulurq in agony. She could not go on. Her body felt weak, and she was already so tired but where they were was so dangerous, it was open and they could be seen from all around. To make matters worse, the sun was going down and the ability to see was getting more difficult by the moment.

"We're so fucked." Lara murmured, whilst shaking and panicking,

She pushed her hands into the front of her hair, pushing it back, and leant back away from Ulurq, who was wailing obscene profanities into the night, and breathed. She grabbed a large chunk of his torn plaid shirt and ripped it off, to then fold and tie around his leg wound, entirely forgetting the process of removing the bullets. His piercing screams got louder. She looked over him, letting her tears fall onto him, and gave up, moving up to sit on the side of a nearby vehicle and aimlessly cry. She didn't know medical skills, she didn't know how they'd survive without the resources that'd been stolen, she didn't know anything.

"I can't do this.." She whispered to herself,

"I can't do this!" She repeated, louder,

"I can't." She repeated for the third time.

---

Larineth Exodus, 3 Months After Signal

On the Southern coast of Cronaal, thousands of makeshift boats and sea vessels were crowding the ocean as a mass exodus of people attempted to leave Cronaal. The boats and people covered miles of ocean, so much that you could barely see the ocean in between the crowds of metal and wood. The utter chaos of refugees was terrifying, mothers clung onto their children and fathers held their families down, keeping them away from the hostile looters and cannibals that had decided to take advantage of this situation.

Of the hostiles involved with the Exodus, were Caledon's men who wished to turn this last hope for thousands of Crol into a chaotic inferno that encompassed the entire South Coast. They planned a mass-shooting and bombing of the thousands of refugees, the dense plateau of boats. The idea seemed simple, give the big men guns and the weak men grenades and hope for that lots of people die.
The man who organised the whole plan, Alexander, was holed up in a damaged, rotting fishing boat that stood tall over the smaller kayaks, gondolas and dinghys that seemed to be the majority of the boats. He was a Tenebrar with thick, black hair and light facial hair whose skin seemed to be covered in tattoos and scars, they were also despised and hated by all who were remotely goodhearted and not wholly evil in the Larineth region.

"Are the men positioned?" Alexander inquired, whilst leaning on the railing of the boat deck, overlooking the dense sea of boats,

"Not yet, within the next 15 I'd guess though." Answered Freeman, one of Alexander's own lackeys, assigned to him by Caledon,

"Good news, but I'm getting impatient." Alexander replied. He was much more tempered than his liege, but it didn't bring pause to his intentions and malice,
"Y'know what happened to that Lara bitch when Caled-" Alexander began to add, before being interrupted by a large, but distant, booming noise,

He smiled, knowing the carnage was just around the corner.

A Nebulan tank brigade moved south through enemy territory when it came under fire from a maze of nearby bunkers. The attackers were armed with RPGs and bazookas and several tanks were critically damaged.
"Light tanks to the front!" the commander screamed. "I want machine gun fire in those bunkers!"
A dozen recon tanks rolled forward and sprayed bullets into the nearest bunkers. Enemy gunfire subsided.
"Blow up those bunkers," ordered the commander.
Explosions rocked the bunkers as the tank force began to advance on them.
"Something's up, sir," said a lieutenant. "Look, some of the bunkers are facing away."
"Are they all connected?" asked the commander.
"It doesn't look like it, sir," the lieutenant responded.
The commander shrugged. "Oh, well. Take them out too."
The bunkers facing away were hit with artillery. The heavy concrete withstood the blows for a short time before crumbling under the shUnion
The tanks rolled forward. "There's a cliff edge here, commander," the lieutenant noted.
The commander carefully exited his tank to have a look. The lieutenant joined him.
"Steep," remarked the lieutenant. "There's no way we're getting down that."
The commander looked through his binoculars. "Maybe we won't have to."
"What is it?"
"If my vexillology serves me correctly, that's the flag of the Rose Union flying over that building down there."

Day 40, Castel de Powys

Castel de Powys was an impenetrable fortress. It sat eight-hundred metres high above the frozen countryside of Tyrath, surrounded by a dense forest of pine and steep cliffs of rock whilst towering above all. It could be seen from far and wide, presiding dominance over miles of the Northern countryside that'd been lost to the hands of renegades and fools, who cared for nothing more than their immediate needs and lust for power. Despite this, the castle was home to one of the most powerful people in Cronaal, from both before and after Lara's attempt at rebuilding the nation, Alfred Richard de Powys, the Province-Lord of Tyrath.

Alfred walked with haste through the halls of his home, they were long and sectioned by arches with wall alcoves between with large and decorated lamps hanging above. He burst into the War Room. The floor was a polished pine-wood with a diamond pattern, the walls of the room were adorned with multiple artistic depictions of events in the Tenebrar Bible and natural patterns. A circular table that mapped Tyrath and the surrounding provincial borders dominated the center of the room, with a green, circular rug beneath that bore the Powys Armorial in the centre. The table itself was littered with small figures of soldiers and flags in various formations.

"Christ, they at the gates." Alfred bellowed, hitting his wrinkled fist onto the edge of the table. He rubbed his left hand over his forehead,

"You there, get 6th and 9th Squad to support the gate team." He ordered a young soldier, who'd been standing in the corner,

"And you, other one, get my son." He also ordered of another soldier in the room,

(Lara) Day 145, Ganjarius

Lara sat on horseback, she wore rugged jeans and a thick, beige jumper that appeared to be too tight for her, despite her body being frail and small. On top of her jumper, she wore a winter coat which was maroon coloured. Aside her clothing, Lara also wore a backpack, two sports bags on one side and a single sports back on her other side, as well as a tool belt with some makeshift pouches that were riddled with holes and filth. Her horse was grey, and had some old sacks tied to the leather saddle, which appeared to be very thin and worn from use.

The landscape around her was dilapidated and crumbling, the street was covered in plans that managed to grow through the numerous cracks and ridges or roots that poked through the weak concrete. To her sides were beaten up and looted buildings, some having partially collapsed from layers of rain, snow and erosion. The sky above her was grey and cloudy, the shades of grey differed but it was clear that it would rain soon, meaning Lara would have to find shelter whilst riding her way to Odaelon.

Odaelon was a settlement in the very heart of the Ganjarius Slums, only a small part of the chaos that infested that part of the city and also where Lara ran to when Ulurq died, who'd bled out excessively from bullet-wounds. She'd lied to those people about her identity, wishing to forget what she was.

---

(Alfred) Day 132, Tyrath Communications

Alike Lara, Alfred de Powys sat in front of a large, complex console of buttons, readying themself to speak to those beyond Cronaal. He was tired of having to fight and murder to simply survive day-to-day life, he was tired of hoping people would finally start caring about the hundreds of thousands of people still in the Auburn Isles, those who wanted sanctuary. In the two years of anarchy in Cronaal, millions had been slaughtered by those who only cared for themselves. Cronaal was once a flourishing nation, home to bustling cities and over two-hundred million people, brought to its knees by petty rulers. This is why Alfred sat at the console, ready to beg and plead to the outside world.

A technician toyed with the console for several moments before turning the microphone towards Alfred's wrinkled, aging mouth.
"My name is Alfred de Powys, under Queen Diana's rule I had control over the Tyrath province of Cronaal." He announced,

"I do not know if others have spoken to the outside world, beyond Cronaal, but us here, we are scared."

"I beg you, I beg all who hear this, please help us." He bellowed, in a loud voice.

He opened his mouth to speak another sentence but only ushered out a quick gasp, holding his mouth open for a moment before crashing into the metal flooring. He'd been shot. Behind him, gunfire continued as the traitor terminated the other witnesses.

All that had just happened could be heard from the microphone.

"Another call for help from Cronaal, sir," reported the communications officer.
They were in Balle. The flood of refugees had slowed to a trickle, mostly those who had been unable to cross the front line and move safely into Nebulan territory until the battle had pushed beyond their homes. Nebulan forces had secured the island.
"There's nothing we can do about it now," said the general. "We need to begin our invasion as soon as possible. This hasn't changed that at all."

Recon drones flew almost hourly missions over Cronaal, gathering up-to-date data on the areas that were optimal for an amphibious landing. Plans were drawn up and refined with each new piece of drone footage. Nebula's fleet left port at Balle and moved into a staging area off the coast. The attack would come soon.

(Lara) Day 147, Ganjarius

Lara sat contently outside the 'gate' into Odaelon on the concrete paving that was riddled with weeds and cracks. To her side was a small rucksack with her bare essentials in it, and in her hands were steaming microwave ramen noodles mixed with some spices which she had been digging into with a plastic fork. The smells wafted into her nose whilst she savoured each bite she took, having not had such a 'delicacy' for months. She'd given up a whole watermelon for it. To her other side was a two litre bottle of water which was strawberry flavoured as well as clean, clean water had become somewhat of a rarity in Cronaal once the power facilities began to fail from lack of maintenance, resulting in nationwide blackouts, sewer failures and pump failures that were left unresolved. Even basics were hard to come day in these times.

The sun had gone down several hours ago, though Lara barely knew the time given she hadn't come across a working clock in months. The guise of darkness was a blessing for those who wished to stay hidden, be it malevolent or not, and Lara knew many who'd use this to their advantage. Including her brother. As Lara began to finish her ramen she pulled herself up from the ground and one-strapped her rucksack, a man dressed in black winter-clothing stepped out of the shadows behind Lara, then promptly bashed the top of her skull with a police baton. She fell to the ground.

---

(Lara+Chester) Day 151, West Kray Tower

Lara groggily opened her eyes, before she could survey her surroundings the coarse rope around her wrists and ankles rubbed on her skin and brought to her attention what kind of situation she was in. Lara had been kidnapped. After a few moments, she was able to feel an expensive carpet beneath her, and around her 4 solid glass walls that formed a pyramid and gave a spectacular view of Ganjarius. To her surprise, what she could see was her office that sat in the highest floor of the West Kray Tower.

Bing! The elevator adjacent to the desk opened, revealing the menacing character if Chester Kray, or Caledon as he preferred. Lara shuffled and moved in fear, attempting to free herself whilst only making her situation worse, bringing Caledon's attention to his now-conscious captive. Without a second thought, he grabbed Lara by the collar threw her into elevator door with as much force as he could muster. Lara squealed in pain, whilst attempting to bring herself up despite the rope ties and violent coughing. Her efforts were fruitless. Her brother dragged her across the floor further, holding her by the back of the thick coat she wore and carpet burning her legs.

Chester stamped on Lara's lower spine with as much force as he could, she wailed and cried, begging him to stop but with no avail. Streams of tears poured out of Lara's eyes. The next object Lara collided with was the desk, entirely made of glass. With no mercy, Chester violently bashed Lara's face into her glass table.

It did not shatter.

Before either of the two knew it, Lara had be thrown into one of the glass walls by Chester and the repercussions of which extended further than Chester had even hoped.

It did shatter.

Lara flailed her arms around in the air as she begun a fall of fourteen-hundred feet, there was no time for thought, she was in total shock at what had just occurred. She was thrown from the peak of the Kray Towers by her own brother. However, she stalled for too long.

Lara Kray was dead.

A Open Statement to The "Warlord" "Caldeon" From The Triple Federation:

After a few months of precise target acquisition and data gathering, we now have your location. You have been identified as one of the largest problems to a peaceful and repaired Cronaal, as such, you have been marked for termination. Good day.

-TNSW SPECOPSCOM

"Emperator Antlerio!"
"What is it?"
"Sir, Lara Kray's dead!"
Antlerio stopped typing and stared up at the Intelligence Officer who had delivered the news.
"We have it on a reliable source, planted there just after North Cronaal fell and Malachit resigned. There are photographs, video footage, everything is there!"
"You are dismissed," said Antlerio, a little shaky. The repercussions of this...
He reached over to the intercom. "Please have the Foreign Policy Bloc convened at the soonest opportunity."
"Yes, Emperator," said the AI secretary smoothly.

The next day, the Bloc convened in a conference room just off the parliamentary chambers.
"We have a situation," Antlerio announced. "Lara Kray, of Cronaal, is dead. Footage indicates that she was thrown, or jumped from, the Kray Towers. Either way, the situation there has changed greatly."
A stunned silence pervaded the room for a few seconds.
"We must redouble our military efforts," said MP Gipsan Kvarus. "Cronaal will fracture even further with the death of Kray. Even if a successor of sorts existed, he or she would have absolutely no means of taking power without the aid of a sizable military force. It is our duty as a member of the international community to keep the people of Cronaal safe from the brutality of the warlords that now rule."
"We need more troops, all right," snarled Chrysoparo Topari. "This is our best opportunity to take the rest of Cronaal, or at least rebuild our stronghold in the North. The time has come for us to regain our strength as a global power."
"No action to rebuild the Nebulan hegemony will take place under my administration," snapped Antlerio. "Do I make myself clear?"
"The Nebulan army is not capable of securing the entirety of Cronaal without either local or international support," said General Arcturus. "The reports I've seen indicate that the Syrixian military would retaliate immediately if it became clear that we were attempting conquest. Bustos and the Imperium would strike swiftly as well. Our only possible friends in this affair are Xentherida, Sadakoyama, Wolfsea, and the Rose Union."
"Wolfsea is unpredictable at the best of times," said Antlerio bluntly. "The old Faibuaizu fractured long ago under the strain of the Great War. Guslantis is in its usual state of roiling turmoil- they couldn't help even if they had the troops there, and they wouldn't if they could. Xentherida... our friendship with them goes back a long way, but they're still closer to Syrixia. Remember the Shei Ren crisis? That leaves Sadakoyama and the Rose Union, and the day that they deploy troops for offensive action on anyone's behalf is the day Kannex throws up the red flag and declares a communist state."
"So does that mean that you'd be willing to do it if the forces were there?" said Azurus Malachit curiously from the end of the table.
"Of course not!" Antlerio said angrily.
"Hm. For a moment there I thought I was going to get to applaud you for your undying cynicism," Malachit replied, deadpan.
Kvarus interrupted furiously, "Keep your forked tongue where it belongs, Malachit. You don't run this country anymore."
Silence fell once again. The admiral seated next to General Arcturus whispered, "Shit just got political," just loudly enough for everyone to hear it in the tense quiet. Finally, Head of Foreign Affairs Johan Stoln spoke up. "Kid, your ideological fervor is an asset to your Emperator's party. It's a wonderful thing for campaign speeches. It looks good in Parliament. Guess what? This isn't parliament. Let's all try to be civil here so we can make a decision."
"Thank you, Head Stoln," said Antlerio. "Can we agree, for the moment, to continue with the invasion of Cronaal?"
"Yes," said Kvarus firmly.
"Yes," said Topari.
"Yes," said Stoln.
"Yes," said Arcturus.
"Yes," said the other MPs and military officials.
"Yes," yawned Malachit, picking something out of his teeth.
"Then that settles it," said Antlerio. "I hereby charge the Parliamentary Representatives present here to collaborate on a bill approving the invasion of mainland Cronaal, the Nebulan military officials present to proceed with said invasion, and the diplomats present to inform our allies and foes around the region of our intent to proceed."
"Aye," said everyone else solemnly.
"This meeting is adjourned."

It was silent on the road into Ganjarus, save for the rumbling of the transport vehicle's motors. Khiara leaned back against her seat, sighing. This was it. The final push. Cronaal would be free, and this blight would be over forever. For such a ruined country, the sunrise was beautiful, shades of crimson and gold overtaking the deep blues and blacks of the night sky. The mountains of this province only framed the sunrise, rugged peaks reaching up into the chilled morning air. She could see the shine of the glass on the Kray Towers in the distance, as they passed more and more signs of civilization, ruined as it was. The towers stood proud, even through the collapse of Cronaal, but they stood proud as a bastion protecting a plague far worse than any disease or blight. The convoy passed into the outskirts of the city, the ruins of the houses and businesses lined up along the pot-holed streets, their dilapidated fronts exposing stained and abandoned interiors, lending a sense of loneliness to what must have been the once thriving city. Wanting to keep an air of stealth to the operation, the convoy pulled into a space hidden from the towers, leaving the trucks and proceeding through the backstreets on foot. The city held a different kind of beauty, the rubble and decay slowly being overtaken by green, graffiti being hidden by vines and weathered by the elements. The Kray towers were much closer now, the glass shining even brighter in the rising sun.

The assault team reached the plaza that surrounded the Kray towers, and looked up, gazing at the looming twin spires. The moment was brief, before the team returned to what they had to do. Two of the squads in the team split off, heading in the buildings surrounding the towers. They were part of the Marksmen Corps, there to provide support and a safe entry to the towers from the backlines. It took only five minutes for the Marksmen to reach their posts, and less than a minute after that for the first muted cracks from their silenced rifles to echo out, signalling the elimination of an enemy. The firing continued on as Khiara signalled for the rest of the team to move to the base of the Western tower. Finally, the shots abated, and the plaza was completely silent once again. Khiara gave the signal, and the rest of the team quickly filed into the tower, quickly eliminating any resistance that presented itself on the ground floor. Two more teams split off, heading below ground, planting explosive charges to detonate after the conclusion of the assault that would bring the towers down.

Then the assault began. Yeraenn forces pushed up into the tower, Yeraenn operatives ramming heads with the thugs and murderers recruited by Caledon. The fight was nearly one-sided, Caledon's forces being slaughtered by the determined soldiers, twenty or even thirty falling for a single Yeraenn life. The skirmishes were visceral, bullets ripping through flesh and spraying the walls, a grotesque mural to the horrors of war. Khiara stood just as firm as any of her soldiers, calling out orders as she returned deadly fire on the Crol. Five Yeraenn Soldiers fell in all, but they would be among the last victims of the graveyard this nation had become. Occasional shots rained in from the windows, Marksmen providing what support they could to the main force assaulting the tower.

And then, it was over. Caledon's forces, in the Western Tower at least, were dead. All that remained was the final door before them. The door to Kray's office, where this all began. Khiara had heard about Caledon, she knew he would put up a resistance. This was it. The doors slammed open, and Khiara's personal guards surged through, guns aimed at Caledon in anticipation. Two stepped up to either side of the man and pulled him to the center of the room. Khiara stepped into the office, her right arm hastily bandaged from a stray bullet. Chester was forced to his knees by the guards.

Khiara spoke, voice hard, "Chester 'Caledon' Kray, I am Khiara Algen, High Warden of the Stanh Yerä, Commander in Chief of the combined Yeraenn military. You are before me today to account for your sins against these once free people of Cronaal. Their bodies are your jury and I am your judge. Do not waste breath on words. May you find tranquility in death."

Two bullets were enough for any man.

Cronaal was free.