expansion War of the Red Sands (Xio Expansion IC) (Day 6)

[Xio]

The War of the Red Sands

Synopsis
For over a year, Sefesia has been slowly accruing Anglian military technology: artillery, weaponry, ammunitions. Though both nations have not been official allies, the two partners have seen one another as beneficial in achieving their own geopolitical goals. With war between Anatea, Azuria, and Louvier sparking Na Xiohane, the dutiful ally of Anatea, declares war on Azuria.

Several of Xio's armoured divisions are sent around the south tip of Aurelia to assist Anatea on the front lines. The flagship, NVN Bancheng Cruiser, leads Xio's Antargic fleet to war. The only remaining active military divisions left in Xio are along the Hong river at the militarised border with Sefesia outside of their presumed artillery striking distance. According to Xioan knowledge of Sefesia's military capabilities, Great Xio is in no danger of a surprised invasion by Sefesia. But Sefesia's new artillery rocket systems are far more powerful than its in-home built designs, able to extend tens of kilometres further beyond the Hong River.

The Xioan-Sefesian border is ignited all at once as camouflaged and half-buried MLRS fired from Sefesia obliterate Great Xio's armoured divisions and begin a full-scale invasion of the Republic of Nanhong within Great Xio. Further north along the Xioan-Proncawi'chi border, corrupt warlords have been bribed by the Sefesians to allow their military to begin a blitzkrieg invasion of the Kingdom of Leho. Within only a day, half of Nanhong has already succumbed to the Sefesian menace and Xio's military is in chaos. The war over the red sands of Aurelia has begun.


POVs
The three POVs will be the three main 'stories' that will be told throughout the war, as I want to write about the human toll of the war rather than play the DnD equivalent of Hearts of Iron 4.

Task Force 82, 'Cloaked Cover'
A recently formed International Warriors Association high level unit, Task Force 82, have been trapped behind the frontlines in southern Leho. With a loss of communications with both the IWA and the Imperial Government, they're forced to live off the lands as a roaming group of bandits made up of recruits from across the glube. Their leader, who had just been transferred from Task Force 55, originating from Herstfield, Anglia. Suspicion only continues to rise as they come across a man claiming to be a defecting Sefesian general, who wishes to bring justice to his cruel and decaying leader, Abararban.

The Mountain Lord
Forced to return to the battlefield, the Mountain Lord himself must overcome anxieties he had not felt since he was pushed into conflict by his own father. Every day he must watch the ticking clock as the enemy slowly draws closer to his beloved capital, kidnapping his own subjects and subjecting them to unknown cruelty. If Sefesia is to be overcome, he must prove to be more competent than his father, a man that many consider one of Xio's greatest leaders.

Silodhāa Guild
A rural guild along the Karaloi River, known by their neighbours primarily for fishing and selling tools and equipment made from local bamboo and reeds, they live a relatively peaceful life, despite much of their younger members having left to Xiseka and Pashae. Upon the arrival of the Sefesians they're forced eastward into Nanhong where the true horrors of Abararban Roig's plans for Na Xiohane and the continent are revealed.

 

Chapter 1 - The First Week
Sefesia's 5-day blitzkrieg across Nanhong, Leho, and Xio shook the nation to its core.
With its military in ruins and its cities pummelled to rubble the remaining powers of the
nation hold their first - and maybe only - stand along the Xi River.

Chapter 2 - 72 Hours
Fires burn and buildings crumble, Na Xiohane has reached its darkest hour.
Three cities stand defiant again Sefesia's army.
The future of the nation will be decided in the next 72 hours.

Chapter 3 - Punch Back
Coming Soon

Chapter 4 - The Tartessus Takedown
Coming Soon

Chapter 5 - Syrbotium Internecion
Coming Soon

Edited September 22 by Xio (see edit history)

[Xio]

Day 1
Mountain Lord POV

The government was in chaos. With the unknown numbers of Sefesian armies marching on the soil of Na Xiohane there was no time to call for a meet of the Syndic Council. From flickering screens in unseen bunkers and hastily put together office spaces, with little preparation nor pompous displays, just over half of the 353 members of the Imperial Council that could make it in time voted unanimously to instil the Mountain Lord and Grand Syndic with absolute power. Until this war was over democracy was suspended and the hopes of the empire were placed in the hands of the religious and secular leaders.

The 77th Vosō Ne and Pakheō-voke Hisema opposite one another at a round table. To their side were a collection of monitors and television screens, half of them were black with only voice visualisers on screen and the names of generals stuck to the screen with cheap yellow stickynotes. The other screens were showing an array of locations, some in buildings, others in arid fields, and others even in carparks or houses. Behind each screen were individuals in beige or yellow and grey uniforms, usually with a firearm to their side or strapped to their back, all with bags under their eyes.

"The evacuation of Nanhong has been a disaster, sirs, we've only managed to safely transport a quarter of people planned." One of the generals remarked, his voice orange visualiser spiking upon referencing the Sefesians. "Yinzhou's buses barely escaped the town's limits before the Sefesian artillery started flying overhead."

"The same in Meiwanjing, the second evacuation only succeeded because they were too focused on barraging the university." Another general of mixed Hong descent said, behind him were the blown out remains of a living room on the third or fourth floor of an apartment. Shelves and drawers along the back wall had collapsed and had partly burned from whatever struck the building prior. "They did the same at Bancheng, they were only using their artillery on schools and Meiwanjing's branch of the university."

The Mountain Lord frowned deeply with the latter comment, this wasn't the first time he had heard this today. In Hongxa and Nanzhou, reports were stating they were only striking the administrative buildings at the bauxite mines from a distance, and intentionally striking schools in the towns.
"Was it with Anglian rockets or their own?" the Mountain Lord responded, his tone remaining still despite his own creeping fears.

"We believe it was with their own, the damage was nothing like the Hong River, and it was from near the towns" The first general responded. From another monitor was the distance thunder of explosions, muffled by the room's walls, the general behind the screen showed no panic, however.
"I believe they are saving their best equipment for possible future sieges."

"They are sir." The Hong general remarked glancing to his side towards an unseen window, "There's still no signs of advancement since midday, they're holding the line outside of Xiseka's limits, just beyond the river delta. Reconnaissance tells us they're most likely waiting for the Anglian artillery to cross the Hong River putting Xiseka in range."

"F*ckin' Hell." the Grand Syndic muttered, looking down and away from the screens and the Mountain Lord. "How are the defences of the city?"

"Poor, sir. We lost a lot of men on the road from Bancheng to Meiwanjing. Artillary from the north." The second general continued, his eyes no longer staring directly at the screen. "Civilians have already begun evacuation of the city, though it's unlikely we'll be able to transport many out west before fighting restarts."

"Leave elderly and pets behind, children and their Sadhe first." the Mountain Lord ordered, staring directly towards the second general on his screen. The grand Syndic opened his mouth to speak, but slowly pressed his lips back together. "Hold up within factories and warehouses, you have free reign to take whatever you need from them to survive until aid can be sent."

"Yes sir, thank you sir. We have coordinated with Xiseka's metropolitan police and the guilds in Xiseka, we are moving civilian vehicles to block all roads on the north, south, and east perimeters of the city limits." The Hong general responded, craning his head slightly to look over his screen. "...If I may be honest, sir, I do not believe aid is coming nor should it be coming in the first place."
Neither the Grand Syndic nor the Mountain Lord spoke up to the man's comments, only looking at each other knowingly and with guilt written in their eyes. "We will hold the city for as long as possible, divert their resources towards Xiseka. The fallback line needs reinforcements, not us." The general glanced back at the monitor, staring towards the two men on his screen only for a moment before standing up. "Sorry sirs, but my men need me at the front line." As if on cue, a roaring crash of explosions rocked the Hong general's room causing the lighting to flicker.

"You are dismissed, good luck." the Mountain Lord stated, barely holding his voice at a stern tone. The general gave two nods, one to each of his leaders, before turning off his screen. "All of you are dismissed for now, continue to reposition at the fallback line, recruit and provide firearms to whoever you can on your way there. Meeting adjourned."

The two men continued to sit in silence even once the last monitor in front of flicked off. The room was dark with all the screen offline, even with the pale white LEDs above shined down on the black and white modernist empty room. On the opposite wall to the monitors, above the steel door into the room, a clock ticked away. Each second lost, the two became tenser, until eventually Hisema looked up to the Vosō Ne eyes half-squinting not daring to make eye contact.
"Your speech this evening, will it include...?"

"Nanhong has fallen, everyone knows that. Let's not add more salt to the wound, shall we?" The Vosō Ne snarkily remarked before letting out a withheld sigh. "Not even my father could have spun this into something positive, not even you."

"You hold your father to too much high esteem." Hisema joked with a scoff, hoping to lighten the mood. The Vosō Ne merely shook his head.

"Everyone does."

Both men returned to silence looking down at their own hands on the table. Behind them, the clock struck 5. The room was quiet enough to even hear the muted voices outside the room.
"Hisema, why did you vote for my ascension to becoming Mountain Lord? You despise me." The Vosō Ne asked, keeping his head down. Hisema smiled at his question, barely able to hold back a chuckle, instead letting out a small puff of air from his nose.

"Like I was going to vote for your drug addicted brother, may he be one with our Lord, he would've sold the country to Sefesia for a single line of coke." Hisema jested.

"Would've been less blood spilt than this." Was the Vosō Ne's response, still staring down at his own hands, his voice having gone flat and monotonous. "I had my sisters as well, they had ambition."

"Less honourable." Hisema responded not clarifying what his statement was in response to despite the Vosō Ne's confused expression. Slowly the older man stood up from the table, hobbling slightly before picking up his pace towards the metal door. "Now is not the time to have a crisis of character, Mountain Lord. You have an empire to save."

The Vosō Ne said nothing as Hisema left through the door, leaving him isolated in the dark room, the artificial light barely illuminating its walls. Eventually he moved his hand to an unseen button on the side of the table near his legs, clicking it revealed a crimson map on the central screen of the room.
"An empire."

(OOC note: this map isn't diegetic to the wurld)

Edited October 20, 2022 by Xio (see edit history)

[Ionio]

TO:  Kophīne Linosos, Foreign Minister of the Empire of Great @Xio

FROM: President John Colucci. Head of state of Ionio

I personally write this letter to express our support for Xio's military operations in this mad war unleashed by Anglia and Sefesia.  I am writing to inform you that we are ready to send military equipment and aid if you now request it.

While in Aurelia there are external forces that are undermining our stability we hope that in this moment of crisis our nations become closer and we help each other only so we can defeat the enemies that are disrupting the long peace we have had. 

Sincerely

John Colucci

President of Ionio

[Fulgistan]

Day One: Bug Out

Another transport helicopter took off into the sunset, the beauty of the Xioan sky spoiled by the pillars of angry black smoke on the horizon. Corporal Sang Min watched it from the back of the jeep as the helo sped westward, rifle at his side as his squad bumped along back to base. At the gate, they passed a tanker full of gas, the second one to come and go today, its precious cargo headed for the capital along with most of the rest of 2nd Battalion, Pengxia Rangers. It was one of two Fulgistani units training here at the Nanhong base, along with a unit of engies from the hated Other Army. At present, those engineers were going to work accounting for everything of importance on the base, packing up whatever they could, and destroying or demolishing whatever they couldn't. The driver of the jeep deftly steered a corner around an excavator ripping up long strips of runway, and came to a halt in front of the commander's office. Silently, the troop dismounted and filed inside, shaking the fine red dust from their boots and clothing at the door.

The lieutenant colonel was at her desk, poring over her maps. A woman of sixty, her face was growing pudgy with age, but Sang was under no illusions about her physical health; Pang Qiangguo was an old-school revolutionary peasant woman, and nothing to mess with. Black hair buzzed so short it was blue-grey against her scalp, and the kind of smile that suggested not so much a lack of teeth as the idea that the gods had been frugal when handing them out to her at birth. She was not smiling now. Sang stepped forward and saluted.

"Sir, we talked to Gang Niu but he said he won't consider evacuation unless he's guaranteed a place for his family. We couldn't even find the other interpreters; hardly recognized anybody in town. Everyone's fleeing west."

The colonel let out a sigh through her nose.

"It's just as well he won't come, Corporal. While you were out I got a call from Loyaxane. We're not permitted to evacuate any civilians. Personnel only."

"Sir, these people are firmly convinced they're going to be killed or enslaved the moment the Sefesians get here, we can't just leave them to their fate."

"Sang, you know as well as I do that I can't disobey a direct order from Major General Dong."

The even, icy tone of her voice belied her true hatred for the man; he was a notorious bungler sent to manage the training operations in Xio after his failure to defeat Rusheau in the West Ceris campaign. And now he was going to f*ck up the handling of another crisis, with even greater loss of life.

Lili... Sang saw her face as the ramifications of this order set in. Not one single Hong. The soldiers run and the common people stay and die. The wurld turned upside down, he thought. He decided to change the subject.

"Who's still here?"

The lieutenant colonel leaned back in her chair.

"From our outfit; Sergeant Fu and her squad, Lieutenant Ming and a third of the signals platoon, all of supply, the mortarmen, a couple of the nurses, and Doc Ngoc."

"What about Cookie?"

"He was on that last chopper with the others. He was sad he didn't get to say goodbye to you."

Sang scoffed. "Let him poison some poor Imperials today, good riddance."

"In the meantime, Corporal, I want you and your detail to lend a hand wherever you're needed. We're departing at 0900 tomorrow."

"Understood, sir."

"Dismissed."

Sang walked out of the office with a face like stone. His normally cheerful demeanor was tempered by the overwhelming, looming dread that oozed from every dark corner, every crack in the concrete, every towering cloud of carbon rising from the east. It was a grim day for the Rangers, but an even worse one for Xio. Just a few days before, the Rangers had considered themselves (privately, of course) to be among the best-trained and most formidable soldiers in the country. Now, facing the tide of Sefesian-Anglian onslaught, they felt like the rest of the Nanhong residents; unprepared, running scared for the capital.

Sang directed his men over to a stack of pallets, where they set themselves to stacking and strapping down cases of ammunition. The work was meticulous enough to serve as distraction, but in his heart, the corporal knew they were in for the first of many long, watchful nights.

[Kirvina]

Day 1
Case Kástra

The military port in Taurapetra had been abuzz for weeks, long before Aurelia had lit itself ablaze. Since the closure of the Zaxari Flaxzar War at the turn of the century and the strengthening of the Aurelian League, Kirvinian military command had put in place a series of cases to deal with the eventuality that a member nation would be invaded. Each case differed per the one under attack and the one presumed to be attacking them. While some had faded away over the years as the feasibility of various conflicts disappeared, a key few did not, concentrated around Aurelia's most bitter conflict zones. Diligent and careful choices now paid off, as Case Kástra—Case Castles—came into effect. It was so named because across Na Xiohane, there were few urban redoubts at which Kirvinian command estimated genuine resistance could be mounted against an enemy with operational parity and air superiority. These, therefore, became the namesake 'castles.'

Even though it was an obligation, logistics staff proved none too pleased at the idea of diverting what was, on paper, such a significant amount of resources to an ally that would not have the training in place to make proper use of them. The consequences well understood, it was quickly decided in addendum that along with the equipment, a detachment of 'volunteers' would be sent forward to aid in the rapid preparation of the Xi army. Na Xiohane's utterly dismal performance surprised even the most pessimistic on the General Staff, but information on the extent to which Anglian equipment and training had permeated the Sefesian military rapidly set the situation in order. Within 10 minutes of Sefesian units crossing the border, Kirvina knew. Within 12 hours from that moment, the ships were being loaded, and the altered course around Sefesian positions to the Khao Kingdom was charted.

The city of disembarkation was Qobhais, where much of the harbor was ready to commit to unloading duty. It was late by then, the pale moon climbing overhead, streetlights casting the dock in yellow. Over the din of shouts and ramps, the clatter of wheeled vehicles rolling onto the dock, and the tell-tale rumble of ignitions, one officer clambered from the boat to salute another.

"Lieutenant-Colonel." Alaniadis, the Kirvinian, snapped a salute. His tongue had to adjust to the longer vowels of Laimiaic.
"Likewise. They left me here, to oversee all... this." Before continuing, the Xi officer returned the gesture.

"We've cleared the trains. The way to Pashae should be clear for everything, unless the disposition changes more rapidly than my channels of information are telling me. Not much time to talk. No fanfare. Did you /really/ get clearance to carry on with us?"

"We did, Xalo. A little gung-ho, I think. But given everything, I'm not too surprised. It's all just to buy time, after all. The outcome is already certain, so why be shallow with our provocations, when our provocations are .. well, you've received the circular, you'll understand what I mean."

A small smile broke the man's face. In spite of everything his country had endured in the past day, it was difficult to not be somewhat reassured by the materiel wheeling out of the harbor. "I have, I do. I understand the reasoning, but why. What's the reason for you going forward."

Alaniadis shook his head. "You'll need someone to train whatever dipshit conscripts you're stuffing into this advanced equipment."

"You know. Can't argue with that. Now let's hurry up."

The sharp blare of a departure horn pierced the air. Both officers turned, replacing the hats which they had removed to greet each other, and made to board a car near the front, settling into red-upholstered couches which stood to either side of a low table. This officers' table, normally filled by at least six occupants on either side, had to settle for a measly two on that day. Short-staffed and overwhelmed, the entire Xi army was committed to salvaging the situation at the front; bar this one officer, who had been trusted with the task of safely conveying this vital equipment to the fallback lines at Pashae and readying it for use. There was something quite informal about their trip, given the situation.

Much to think about, but little to say. Some Ilene music played from the old radio, volume low. They would be there soon.

Edited October 20, 2022 by Kirvina (see edit history)

[Mito]

[Xio]

Day 2
Cloaked Cover

 Emergency Symvologram. Private Connection. Connect Urgently. Date 20-08-20-22. [Stop]

 Connection Made. Situation Dire. Assistance Required. Located at 17.420°S 92.385°W. [Stop] 

 Assistance Unavailable. Evacuate. 2 Taskforces at [Symbol Error]. Meet. [Stop]

 Repeat 3rd Line. [Stop] 

 2 Taskforces at [Symbol Error]. [Stop]

 Symbol Error at 4th symbol. [Stop] 

 2 Taskforces at city. Near 18.75°S 94.80°W. Meet 2 Taskforces. Update Symvologram at location. Do not evacuate civilians. Leave upon arrival. [Stop]

Understood. Leaving to destination. [Stop] 

 Taskforce commander is to remain in control. Keep Symvologram on. Orders come at any time. [Final Stop]

 

The land was flat, dusty, and scorched of any water. The only vegetation on the red oxide sands of eastern Leho were the clumps of freshly blooming green and blue shrubs spreading out as far as the eye could see. In the lowlands between sand dunes and craggy bedrock were seas of thorny and thistle waves. The only structures sat in the deepest basins, lonely goat herding clans who had lived on the lands for thousands of years, living in sandstone and clay structures. Parents milled about the tiny villages with children waddling behind them, and goats were led about by men in leashes. The only signs of modernity were imported jeans, solar panels, and the recently arrived Sefesian trucks and soldiers. Only hours prior had the Sefesians blown through, mostly made up of new recruits, they hung around in tents near the perimeter of the village with hastily erected metal fences surrounding their encampment. Limited contact had been made between the Sefesians and the natives, mostly to demarcate where the recruits were going to set up camp for the night.

On the other side of the village, another group of recruits had been staying the week, living within the community inside their own sand and thatch hut, were 15 men and women from across the wurld. One, a paler man with what could only be described as a brown 'hipster' beard and stuck-up hair only an inch tall, held a small flip phone device.

"Orders come at any time" the man remarked with a stern voice, his Herstfield Anglian accent bleeding into his Ilene. The others in front of him, huddling with their knees up to their chests with firearms strapped to their sides, gave a mixture of nods, subtle head shakes, and eye rolls. The hut, despite being one the larger ones in the village, was still cramped with only three rooms attached to one another and the dugout basement bedroom only able to fit half of them shoulder-to-shoulder. Even now, as they were all crowded into the largest and centre room to the hut, they were forced to all sit along the circular walls.

"Sefesians are still outside, Alston, sir." One of the older recruits to the man's right, a Lehoan lady by the epithet of Raro-wo Kama, said with a bitter tone. "I saw some of their teenage recruits getting drunk at the fermenter's home when I went to the market to collect tonight's supplies. Buggers think they own the place. Once even tried to ask me to come to their camp tonight, savages."

"Not all of us are savages" One of the men in the back scoffed, his own Sefesian-Narvic accent kicking into his words, with charcoal black hair and a very tanned face. "I helped convince them to leave you alone."

"I didn't say that, Balkar." Kama shot back in response. "Don't get offended."

"Stop this, both of you!" Alston, the man with the device, ordered with a sharp rise in his voice. Immediately Balkar and Kama stopped their bickering, turning to Alston. He released a long-drawn-out sigh before continuing, "Tonight you two, Xae, Harue, and myself will leave to speak with the Syndic of the village. We are going to organise a safe passage for us to leave in the next couple days."
Two other individuals to Alston's left nodded in response.

Slowly, the midday blue sky gave way to oranges and pinks as the sun dipped down towards the horizon. Though the shimmering of heat still waved along the landscape, Alston and his four troops exited the hut. Alston and Balkar dressed in Sefesian recruitment gear, with Kama and the other two troops dressed in traditional garments of cloaks and dresses, with a hood and mask over their faces to protect them from the evening sun, and to hide their identity. Alston and Balkar unsheathed their two-handed guns from the straps on their backs, holding them pointed down. Slowly the party walked down the path from their 'home', Balkar and Alston at the front heads up straight with tinted sunglasses on. The path below their combat boots was nothing more than compacted orange-red dirt mixed with clay. The further they treaded down towards the centre of the village, the huts made way to larger rectangular homes made of sandstone and clay. In the distance, herders stepped over the dunes, returning their small herds of partially malnourished goats to the village for the night. Almost on every street was a Sefesian recruit, though most seemed content to sit under larger trimmed shrubs drinking goats' milk and well water bought from the locals. Alston took a glimpse at one of the recruit's faces, a boy no older than 18, with heavy bags under his eyes and an overall uncomfortable look. Cardboard trays were stacked near many of the homes, filled with different nuts, dried goats' jerky, and chicken eggs. He could hear the faint bleating of goats, and the occasionally rumble of an engine.

"They don't seem all that bothered to do anything." Balkar grunted to Alston, leaning it partly to keep his voice low. "Nothing like what's going on in Nanhong."

"I don't think these boys even know what's happening in Nanhong. They look more like Rhodellian war tourists than trained soldiers." Alston sneered under his breath. "They're even bartering with the locals for drinks." Alston subtly turned his head to the other side of the path, as they passed one recruit collapsed on the floor staring up into the sky. "...And other substances."

"So, they have men fighting on the front, and children left to occupy?" Balkar chuckled lightly "I'm sure that won't lead to insurrections behind the frontlines."
Alston couldn't help but smile, but quickly wiped the grin off his face as they finally arrived at the centre of the village, where tens of stalls had been set up for their market, now all empty.
"I thought they didn't close for another..."

"Curfew, don't want the locals chitter chatting for too long." Alston answered Balkar's question, before he could even finish. Alston turned to the three behind them, who had remained silent the entire time, his eyes carefully looked behind them - despite wearing tinted sunglasses - noticing a recruit staring at them from the corner of the market.
"Let's go."

Eventually the party arrived at the only two-story building in the entire village, and at least twice as large. Outside of the building a single Sefesian stood - or more aptly sat - outside the door.
"Identity." The young recruit mumbled, a young twenty-something with a clay cup of an alcoholic drink of some kind.

"Alston and Balkar, cousins of the town's Syndic are behind us. Escorting them inside." Alston stated, copying the man's reluctant tone.

"Alright, get in." The recruit continued to mumble, not even writing their names down anywhere. Without another word the three in traditional clothing entered the house, with Balkar leading them from the front, all with heads and eyes forward. Alston remained at the side, near the recruit. Although he kept his head staring towards a random house, his eyes turned towards the same man at the edge of the market from before, still staring at them intensly. The man gripped his gun tightly, eyes squinted, though remained stationary.

"Thanks." Alston muttered, finally following the others inside, with one final glance at the man. Once Alston had entered the building, the man pulled out a device identical to Alston's, staring down at the last message sent as he stepped towards the building:

 

 Eliminate Taskforce 82 Commander. Threat to security. [Final stop]

 

Map at the end of Day 2.

 

Edited October 23, 2022 by Xio (see edit history)

[Tagmatium Rules]

 

To: The Secretariat of External Relations of the Autokrateia tes Megas Shioeias, Empire of Great @Xio

From: the Agios Basilikon Kounsistorion of the Megas Agios Basileia Arhomaion

 

Your Excellency,

 

The news of the invasion of the Great Xioan Empire by the Demokrateia tes Sefesias, Democratic Republic of Sefesia, comes at a great shock to the Arhomaioi and the Agios Basilikon Kounsistorion. The plight of your people is one that grieves our hearts. Unfortunately, it is mirrored across Eurth and it seems that the situation is only getting worse. However, Events are in motion that will, through the grace of God, soon begin to turn the tide and return peace to Eurth.

It is clear that the tendrils of the Regaseion tes Megas Angleias,, the Kingdom of @Great Anglia, spread far and wide and that the very heart and soul of Aurelia is under attack. Your continent is besieged by the pernicious forces of Megas Angleia, whipped onwards by the mastermind, Regas Kreitonos III. The threat that that nation represents is clear to all of Eurth and all those that are not under its sway. They have already struck across Europa, Argis and Aurelia and it seems that there is no end to the conflict and misery that they are intent on making.

At this point, with tensions hitting breaking point across Eurth, Arhomaneia can do little to help your nation, despite our recent cooperation. The Agios Basilikon Kounsistorion will send as monetary aid A$250 million, to be spent however your government sees fit in order to defend itself against the attack of the minion-nations of Megas Angleias. My government would also be willing to send aid in the form of military equipment, as well as humanitarian aid, in order for your people stop and then turn back the dastardly attack against them, if Megas Shioeia would be willing to supply a list of its equipment needs. My government will also add Sefeseia to the list of nations that Arhomaneia has levied sanctions against. It is hoped that this will prevent them from continuing their aggressive war against your great people and nation.

I appreciate that this is not the direct help that your people and your government need to survive this coming attack. The Arhomaioi know that your nation needs much more in order to weather the storm that is being unleashed upon it and this is being strived towards. At the moment, the future of Eurth hangs in the balance. If it were to tip in one direction, then Megas Angleia will be defeated and all of the peoples of our wurld will be free from this grave threat, one that seeks to enslave all of us for its own enrichment. If it were to tip the other, then our Eurth would fall into a new dark age, the likes of which it has not seen before. The cooperation and history of equality between the continents – which has been patchy at times, admittedly – would be destroyed and replaced by a servile one, with Megas Angleia and its chosen lackeys.

Be assured, my nation is doing all that it can to make sure that this balance is in favour of freedom and equality, although that may seem to be not enough for your people at this time. If your excellency can ask your government if there is any other way that the Arhomaioi can help, then the Agios Basilikon Kounsistorion will be grateful. Undoubtedly, the tide will soon turn against Megas Angleias and its bootlickers. Aurelia will be free of its influence, soon followed by the rest of Eurth.

God will bring peace back to Eurth.

Eugenios Goulielmos,

Megas Logothetes

of the

Logothesion ton Barbaron

of the

Megas Agios Basileia ton Arhomaion

[Xio]

Day 3
Sounding the Alarm

Quote

To: Chairman Waki Ichise
Of: Aurelia Affairs Committee of the Five Provinces of @Mito
--- Є ---

Hello Waki Ichise,
I must express my dearest thank you for your nation's willingness to support us in our time of need. The Xiohane is in dire need for civilian aid, as much of eastern Hoq'nuka has become inundated with refugees from southern Xio and Nanhong. Local enforcement has already been stretched thin as much of the Hoq'nuka armed forces have been transferred elsewhere for the immediate protection of the empire. We are unsure if the kingdom of Hoq'nuka alone has the logistical support to maintain humane standards of living once refugee camps begin setting up at Qobhais and Gijnigalo.

We have sent a copy of your pledge to the Hoq'nuka national government, and we strongly urge the Five Provinces to directly contact them yourselves to coordinate routes for aid.

Regarding military aid, we have established a port in ██████, Qobhais, Hoq'nuka. All armaments and volunteer forces are being directed towards the Fallback line to ensure the last large population centres of the empire do not fall. Our analysists, at current rates of movement by both the Xioan and Sefesian armed forces, have determined that contact between the fallback line divisions and the main Sefesian armies will come on Day 5 in the south, and full contact across the eastern line on Day 7 on the 25th October.

We require full assistance by our Aurelian partners and allies abroad if we are to successfully resist the fall of Kororama and central Xio. The most important thing your nation can do for ours is to encourage other members of the League to supply us with either logistic support or direct volunteers until the frontline is stabilised or until our navy has returned from Anatea.

We have faith in your people and your government to do the right thing.

Thank you,
Kophīne Linosos

 

Quote

To: Megas Logothetes Eugenios Goulielmos
Of: Logothesion ton Barbaron of Arhoimaion ( @Tagmatium Rules )
--- Є ---

Hello Eugenious Goulielmos,
Thank you for your kind words and your willingness to aid Na Xiohane. It is clear to everyone within the Xioan governments that Sefesia could not have acted alone, as footage and live accounts of their military armaments and vehicles have proven that Sefesia has access to an abundance of Anglian and South-East Azanian equipment. If Na Xiohane was to push back against Sefesia it will need to fight on their level, thus your willingness to supply military equipment is greatly appreciated. Attached to the form, produced by the Secretariat of War, is a complete and detailed list of required equipment. We do not require much equipment, as our military supplies regarding simple firearms and ammunitions remain protected from Sefesian rocket artillary.

We understand that this may be overstepping your generosity, but equipment is not our current concern, instead we require heavy armoured vehicles and modern artillery systems to penetrate modern tanks which have been the spear head of current Sefesian offensive tactics. According to the Secretariat of War if we were to eliminate Sefesia's imported frontline heavy armoured vehicles, their current offensive assault would come crashing down as they would be forced to play once more on an even playing field against Xioan divisions. Their achilleas heel is known, we just need the support of other governments and militaries to capitalise on such.

We have faith in your people and your government to do the right thing. May your god bless victory against the imperialists, as ours does for you.

Thank you,
Kophīne Linosos

Imperial Decree to the Kingdom of Hoq'nuka and the junior Kingdom of Khao
Dictated by the Mountain Lord, 77th Vosō Ne, under the protection of the 16 Imperial Dynasties
--- I ---

With the North Adlantic Union's most recent requests having reached the Imperial Government for their regime to "offer to guarantee the security of the Khao Kingdom"(1) the 3 Hoq'nukan imperial dynasties and the Hoq'nukan head of government Q'an Giqaukuma alongside the Khao imperial dynasty have been ordered to attend a virtual meeting hosted by the Mountain Lord and the Elected Grand Syndic at ██AM tomorrow (21/10/2022).

We will be discussing the true intent of this @Seylosian request, be it genuine or opportunistic in nature, and if the Khao imperial dynasty will be willing to work alongside the NAU and Kaseka.

We have no reason to suspect the NAU of imperialist ambitions, however reports by insiders within Sefesia may implicate Seylos as the fourth yet unknown benefactor of the Tripartite Border Agreements between Sefesia, Noble Nykia, and Norrium. As per the last decree, all knowledge on the Tripartite Border Agreements found by foreign intelligence is to remain hidden from the public. We cannot afford further panic across the empire than what the war has already begun. This would also implicate the whole of the empire by not acting sooner to raise defences.

This war still remains necessary for the health of the empire, and the health of the 16 dynasties, despite our shortcomings in the last 72 hours. The fires of warfare will cleanse the empire of the Hong slave holders, and of the final holdouts of my father's regime.

Remain strong, remain vigilant, the battle continues and so shall we,
77th Vosō Ne, Rahāde saDeyakho-Xae, of the Red Painted Dynasty.

 

[Xio]

Day 4
Movement

Two silhouettes danced across the riverbank; their bodies obscured by the warm glow of the morning sun. One bounced ahead of the other, leaping over tall grasses and swinging around old tree trunks.

"Rōpherapīka! Wait!" The silhouette in the back called out, waving both hands manically as they attempted their best to tip-toe around the large tufts of grass and shrubs. Rōpherapīka, a young boy no more than twelve, laughed as he continued to jump and tango with the flora that lined the river. Both wore huipils and muddied up jeans, Rophe's though were covered in rips and tears.

Rophe finally turned back towards the one who called himself, twisting himself around a tree trunk obscuring most of his body. A child even younger than him stumbled behind, almost tripping, over the rough ground keeping their limbs closed in together as their eyes remained locked to the ground just in front of them. On their back was a large woven grass bowl with a lid poking out. Rophe couldn't help but smile at his cousin's fumbling each time almost dropping their large straw hat into the river below.

"Lahulimi! Quickly!" Rophe hastily shouted, staring towards the sun with squinted eyes. It was only 6am yet the sun was quickly climbing up the cloudless sky. He tentatively reached a hand out from the shade of the old tree into the light, feeling the prickling of the new spring heat. Gently Rophe pulled back his hand, placing it softly onto the gnarled and twisted trunk of the tree.
"We only have a couple more hours!" He continued, peeling himself off the tree though kept safely within its shade. His hands remained planted on the tree, his left hand moved up the trunk, feeling the dried flaky bark. His thin fingers traced the groves in the wood, slowly stretching his arm out as he reached as high as the tips of his fingers could reach. His hand, stretched high and on tip toes, could just reach the lowest branch of the tree.

"I'm here!" Lahulimi declared, hopping from one foot to the next. Rophe yelped, spinning around almost smacking into Lahulimi, just managing to catch himself before he fell into them.

"Lahu! Don't sneak up on me like that!" Rophe said with an exasperated tone.

"I did not!" Lahu complained, hiking past him and beyond the shade of the old tree, immediately tripping and falling into the tall grass. Rophe smirked and a short puff of laughter escaped the cracks between his lips. "Don't laugh!" Lahu whined, pulling themself up from the grass. Before they could tumble and fall again, Rophe walked over to Lahu and grabbed their hand.

"I didn't laugh, come on." Rophe remarked, still smirking, as the two walk down the riverbank. "I'll tell the family you caught the biggest fish we find up ahead."

...

The two kids sat beneath a large pophoati tree at the edge of the river, on the dry gravel of exposed riverbed. The steel-blue water gently flowed past them, curving around their little piece of shade from the rising sun. Between them was the grass bowl, now with its lid strapped down with string. Inside were grey fish that occasionally flopped about. Propped up against the bowl, partly sunken into the gravel, was a trident carved out of bone and tied together with string and melted plastic, shards of obsidian were embedded into cuts at the end of each of the trident's arms. In Lahu's hand was an old makeshift fishing rod, its end gently bopping in the river. Both sat quiet for a while, with Rophe only occasionally helping Lahu keep the fishing rod steady.

"Rophe. Why does the river shrink?" Lahu asked, his eyes firmly locked to the end of the fishing rod, his hands as still as he could keep them. Rophe thought for a while, staring away and down the river.

"Uh. Oldest mama said it's because Kopodha-kaho is thirsty in winter, and she drinks allllll the fresh water in the wurld." Rophe explained, now facing Lahu.

"Thats what Rapīsishī-rama said. But why do I see rain in Hanesore on your phone?" Lahu commented, keeping their eyes on the bobble. "Does Kopodha-kaho not like Hanesore water? Why doesn't Dhiive stop Kopodha-kaho from drinking all the water?"

Rophe stifled a giggle at Lahu's confusion. "No but Hanesore water is very stinky. I'll tell you why when you're in school. And stop saying her name so much, I don't want us catching a poisoned fish."

"Tell me now!" Lahu yelled, yanking the fishing rod out of the water as a small grey fish went flying out onto the gravel beside them. Rophe quickly ripped the poor fish's mouth off the hook, with Lahu undoing the bows on the string holding the lid down. He dropped the fish into the container before helping Lahu tie the string back on. "Kopodha-kaho! Kopodha-kaho! Kopodha-kaho!" Lahu chanted, standing up and jumping in place.

"Fine, fine, I'll tell you! Just give me the fishing rod first." Rophe sneered, swiping the fishing rod from his cousin as he attached new bait to the hook. "So, the air is like this river." Rophe began, moving his hand towards the river. "In the sky there are invisible rivers of air, they bring water and heat and cold around the entire wurld."

"The whole wurld?" Lahu repeated, in awe, slowly sitting back down cross-legged.

"Yes. The whole wurld. And from November to April, they bring lots of water to the mountains, where Dhiive sleeps. The water fills up all the rivers and sometimes even rains down here like it did two years ago." Rophe continued to explain, casting the fishing rod out. Seconds later the bobble made a tiny splash in the river. "But once the rain stops, the mountains slowly run out of water and the rivers shrink, like now!"

"Woah." Lahu involuntarily remarked. Raphe smiled as he pulled Lahu closer to him. Lahu crawled across the gravel and gently placed their head on Rophe's shoulder, both of them looking to the bobble calmly moving up and down in the slow river. "So Ko-- she doesn't drink the water? Did Rapīsishī-rama lie?"

"She does drink the water, the gravel here was wet, but now its dry. All the water goes deep, deep, underground where she can drink it." Rophe concluded.

"If she's unkillable, why does she need to drink water? And what does she eat?" Lahu continued to pester Raphe, who let out a slow, drawn-out sigh.

"That's why we bury the dead and dig up our ascended one's skulls after a couple years." Rophe reluctantly continued, focusing more on feel of the fishing line in his hands for any tugs and pulls. "She noms on your bones."

"Eww."

"Don't judge. We eat goats, and bugs, and any pork and beef jerky the caravans bring. When we die, we don't need our bodies anymore. Now, no more questions I need to focus." Rophe finally concluded, his grip on the rod tightening. Something was tugging at its end. "Move your head.". Lahu reluctantly shuffled a bit out of Rophe's way, and suddenly yanked the fishing rod backwards, pulling up a massive green-grey fish unlike the others. Rophe squinted at the monstrous fish as Lahu scampered up towards the tree trunk.
"(Kertosonan Perch... Invasive fish... Stupid farmers...)" Rophe muttered to himself, carefully pulling out the trident before diving onto the creature and swiftly impaling it down between the gills of the flopping perch.

"What is that!" Lahu screamed out in fear, hugging the tree. "Did I curse us?!"

"No, it's okay!" Rophe yelled back, stumbling back upright "it's a fish oldest mama told me about!"
Lahu carefully walked back down to the gravel patch, looming over the dead fish, staring into its freakish yellow eye. "Help me put it in the bag, I'll carry it back."
Lahu sheepishly agreed, and before long the two kids began to climb up from the gravel patch, with Rophe holstering the grass bowl on his back.

"You can tell your oldest papa that you caught the evil fish. I don't want it." Lahu mumbled, kicking a pebble near their foot. Rophe could only laugh at his cousin's serious remark, patting them on the shoulder.

"Okay. I'll tell oldest papa that I caught it. I'll tell him you caught the little smelly fishes." Rophe remarked, causing Lahu to pout and jab him in the shoulder. The children continued to jab and laugh at one another as they began their long hike back home, the sun almost reaching its midday peak.

...

The movement of the train carriage jostled Rōpherapīka awake, his eyes darted from wall to wall of the large dark container he found himself in. Before a sound could come out of his mouth a wave of nausea and dizziness overwhelmed him, causing him to instinctively reach out to the floor. An intense wave of pain and coldness rushed across his body, its epicentre coming from just to the left of his forehead.
"Rophe! Oh, thank Dhiive you're okay!" A woman beside Rhope cried out, hugging him tightly. The voice, and faint smell of vanilla told Rhope it was oldest mama. "I-I... I thought I might've-"

"Where are we?" Rhope mumbled, his hand clasping the left side of his forehead, where he could feel a welt. "Did I... Hurt myself? Where's Lahulimi?"

"Those bastards... The Sefesians they took everyone from Silodhāa. Rapīsishī-ram, she kept Lahu and her others, they saw on the television, the warnings. She- the warnings said it was better than being taken."
Oldest mama hugged Rhope harder, her silent tears running down onto Rhope's arm. He could only put his own arm around her, holding his own mother tightly. His eyes looked out towards the opposite side of the carriage, as the orange haze of sunset slipped through the gaps in the locked doors, others from Silodhāa huddled together in the corners and back walls of the carriage.

Where are they being taken?
 

Edited November 19, 2022 by Xio (see edit history)

[Rhodellia]

Day 1
Brand new day

Ramhart gripped the door’s handle, glanced over his shoulder, and took a deep breath. The hallway beyond the door seemed silent, but one could never be too sure. He counted up to three before slowly pressing down on the handle, tugging the door backwards, and letting it swing slowly backwards into the room.

The gap between the door and doorframe revealed nobody to the immediate right of the door. He sidestepped in an arc around the doorframe’s left-hand corner axis and scanned the area beyond the door in small segments. Nobody seemed to be standing immediately outside or to the immediate left of the door either. The coast seemed clear, but he needed to be completely sure.

He then leaned his upper body slightly through the doorway. The hallway outside was a residential one much like any other you’d find in any apartment complex, with two opposing rows of doors. It seemed empty on the left side. He glanced over his right shoulder. Nobody down the hall on the right side either. He stood alone in the doorway.

He then crept into the hallway, gently closed the door behind himself, and swivelled his head around. The place seemed eerily quiet. None of the neighbouring rooms seemed to be emitting any discernible noise. The only things louder than the fluorescent ceiling lamps overhead were his heartbeat, the fine motors in his prosthetic leg, and the usual ringing in his ears. Absolutely nothing in the vicinity seemed to change or react in response to his presence.

Ramhart sighed and loosened his shoulders.
“The f*ck am I even doing…” He muttered beneath his breath.

He locked his dormitory room door behind him and, from his Wüstentarn (desert camouflage) assault pack, drew a plastic packet marked ‘CHILLI AND MACARONI MEAL, READY-TO-EAT, INDIVIDUAL’ in Dolch. He pulled open the packet and started feasting on its contents as he headed out for the next Aurelian History seminar of the week.

The walk from his dormitory room on the fourth floor of his mid-rise student hall of residence to his course’s usual lecture hall on the other side of the University of Xiseka campus usually took him about half an hour. But it could be somewhat shorter and more convenient.

He cleared a corner before coming face-to-face once again with the hall’s elevators. And, of course, both of them still had the same signs taped to their metal hoistway doors, telling him in three different languages — Ilene Laimiaic, Xi-Le, and Dolch — to go f*ck himself and that his thoroughly withered knee joints would have to suffer the stairs yet again.
“For f*ck’s sake…” He cursed beneath his breath and dropped his head. “Of course they’re all still out of f*cking service.”
 
One year into his studies abroad and he could never recall a time when these elevators actually worked. He wanted to send whatever guild the university contracted to fix the elevators a strongly worded letter in the mail… along with a pipe bomb for good measure. But then he remembered that wasn’t appropriate conduct in Xieikan society.
“f*cking pieces of shit!” He cursed again as he booted the hoistway door with the full force of his prosthetic leg. A loud clang echoed down the halls. “Go to hell!”

He took a deep breath before pressing on towards the access door to the hall’s main stairwell, where he would repeat the whole process of slicing the pie all over again. Despite months of physical therapy and his prosthesis being programmed with special settings for ascending and descending staircases, taking long staircases still felt somewhat unnatural and inconvenient. But at least this staircase in particular had one saving grace to it.

The fourth floor of the stairwell offered a decent view of the university campus and Xiseka’s metropolitan skyline. Were the stairwell not so exposed from multiple angles and not his primary route for vacating the building in an emergency, its small windows to the outside would make for decent overwatch positions. He peered through one of the windows and watched university staff, students, and other pedestrians milling around outside. He eyed one jogger moving down an avenue some several-hundred metres away.
“Yo, I could totally snipe that guy from here.” He mused.

Even if the stairwell was far from ideal as an overwatch position, he figured he and a battle buddy could definitely cause a lot of mayhem; all they needed was a machine gun, several belts of ammunition, spare machine gun barrels, a block of C4, and a handful of directional anti-personnel mines. But two years of basically doing f*ck-all in the Rhodellian Armed Forces convinced him that was a level of fun he could only hope to get in Battlespace.

And then the jogger, along with nearly every other pedestrian in sight, stopped in their tracks, looked up at the sky, and took out their phones. They were filming something Ramhart couldn’t see from the stairwell. He leaned closer to the window and looked up at the sky.

A pair of AuroFighters entered his field of view, speeding eastward with a full payload of missiles under their wings, followed shortly after by the sounds of their sonic booms and engines. The AuroFighter was a Kirvinan-designed multirole fighter in use with multiple Aurelian League militaries (including the Rhodellian Armed Forces). From his angle and distance, he couldn’t tell if they were Rhodellian Air Force or Kirvinan Air Force birds from Qobhais Air Base or from the Xioan military. Either way the pilots were likely doing some exercise or intercepting the Sefesians’ next attempt to intrude on Xioan airspace. It wasn’t every day he had the pleasure of seeing military aircraft flying overhead so each time was always an awesome experience. He watched the jets vanish over the Xisekan skyline before continuing down the stairs towards the student hall’s foyer.

Some time later, he would reach the ground-floor door to the foyer, behind which chattering voices were audible. Ramhart lunged for the wall beside the door and listened in. The thickness of the access door (which doubled as a fire door) rendered all the voices incomprehensible. However, these voices barely changed in volume even after a minute, suggesting these people were staying inside the foyer for whatever reason rather than going straight outside.

In the mornings, the people living in this student hall normally tend to go straight outside to eat breakfast at the university’s refectory, visit their coffee shop of choice, or beeline for their lectures. He sliced the pie again before gently pushing the door open and poking his head slightly into the foyer. There were three students in the foyer, all speaking into their smartphones with rather concerned-sounding tones and worried-looking facial expressions. To see multiple other students walking around the foyer like this was an odd occurrence (a bit of a shame considering how much the university likes touting how its student halls are newly refurbished). He took another deep breath before exiting the stairwell and carrying on towards the front door.

He would pass by the only one of these students he was at least acquainted with, an Archaeology BA (Hons) student he knew only as ‘Erika’. In the university’s welcoming ceremony for the Autumn 2022 intake of Rhodellian international students, he happened to sit next to and talk to her for a bit before basically never interacting with her again for the rest of the year. Erika paced back and forth across the foyer while wearing a pair of wireless earbuds.
“Yes, I’m fine… I’ve got my 72-hour bug-out bag ready, yeah, but I don’t have much stockpiled beyond that. No more than a week's worth.” She assured whoever was on the other side of the call. She then shook her head. “No, they aren’t here yet. I think the uni will be sending emails about what to do in a bit.”

Clearly, something seemed wrong. Ramhart would ask what was the matter, but Erika’s phone call seemed rather important and he did need to show up to class on time; he opted to not to disturb her and instead quietly pressed onwards towards the front door. They exchanged brief eye contact and silent nods as they passed each other. He was almost at the front door when he noticed the student hall’s common room was a lot more crowded than usual. That was when he knew something was really, really wrong.
 
Nobody actually used this common room unless it was to do predrinks before a night out, but today was clearly a special day. He counted about twenty other students, all Rhodellian international students like himself, crowding around the chairs and sofas, staring up at a wall-mounted flatscreen TV.

The screen showed an RNN (Rhodellian News Network) Aurelia news broadcast on the wall-mounted TV, showing videos of what he recognised to be convoys of Sefesian military trucks, utility vehicles, and armoured fighting vehicles moving down some desert roads. A few girls in the crowd were covering their mouths. A few guys leaned forward with clenched fists and broad grins. Everyone else simply took the news with totally blank expressions in complete unnerving silence.

“...Sefesian forces rapidly overran parts of Leho Kingdom and most of the Nanhong Republic in what appears to be a textbook ‘deep battle’ operation.”, spoke the news anchor in Ilene Laimiaic. “Most, if not all, Xioan forces currently stationed along the eastern border with Sefesia have reportedly been either encircled or outright destroyed.”

“Holy shit.” Ramhart whispered. The cogs in his brain whirred at breakneck speeds as the anchors’ voices faded into static. He scanned around the room and spotted another person he knew, a Security and Intelligence BA (Hons) student called Kristoff, lying back on a couch staring intently at his phone screen. Ramhart jogged over, unstrapped his assault pack, and sat next to him. “Yo, Kris!”

Kristoff looked up from his phone and nodded up at Ramhart. “Sup, Ramhart.”
“The f*ck’s going on?”
Kristoff pointed up at the TV screen. “The Seffies are invading and we ain’t got shit to fight ‘em with, so uh… we might be kinda screwed, my dude.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it. How come we didn’t get an emergency alert text about a f*cking invasion? They do have those in this country, right?”
“Yeah, for people who aren’t deathly afraid of roaming charges.”
“That explains it. So how’s the situation looking?”
“All-in-all, shit’s FUBAR.”
“How bad are we talking?”

Kristoff held up his phone screen to Ramhart. Kristoff was in the middle of browsing a website called Live Situational Awareness Map (or ‘livesamap’ for short). It maintained an interactive geographic map showing live updates of ongoing armed conflicts around the Wurld. It linked verified news articles and social media posts to specific locations. It also coloured regions to denote which military controlled which area.

The website had long maintained an interactive map of Xio to keep track of the occasional border skirmishes and other incidents with its neighbours. Now, it was a lot more lively; much of the eastern half of the Nanhong Republic and parts of eastern Leho Kingdom were already painted in red. Kristoff tapped various little circular pop-ups, which highlighted the last seen locations of Sefesian units photographed or videotaped by local civilians and news crews, the sites of artillery or missile strikes, and areas with on-going skirmishes.

After a while, Kristoff retracted his phone and continued scrolling through the website’s news feed. “LiveMap can’t even keep up with how much ground we’re losing. People on Wittier are filming Seffie APCs as far as Meiwanjing. f*cking. Meiwanjing!”
“What?” Ramhart leaned over to look at Kristoff’s screen..
Kristoff tapped on one pop-up with a Wittier post embedded showing a column of Sefesian armoured personnel carriers driving down a desert highway. “Look at the road signs. They’re in Xi-Le, Ilene, and Huang. That sign there says ‘Meiwanjing 5 miles’.”
“Well, shit.” Ramhart sank back into the sofa. “That’s like 20 miles away from us. The Seffies could get here in less than an hour if the f*ckers wanted.”
“Yep.” Kristoff nodded. “It’s not even teatime and their forwardmost units have already penetrated about 80 miles into Xioan territory.”
“That’s f*ckin’ wild man.”
“I know this is a shit situation for us to be in, but you honestly gotta give the bastards props for executing deep battle operations this well in an actual shooting war.”
“I guess so.” Ramhart shrugged. ”Not gonna lie, man, who f*cking knew the Seffies had it in them?”
“Yeah, for real.” Kristoff nodded. “When RNN ran its threat assessment of Sefesia a while back, they had me totally convinced any attempt at an invasion of Xio would be a complete clusterf*ck.”
“In what way?”
“Tanks breaking down in quicksand and getting abandoned. Convoys running out of gas and getting stranded on the side of the road under the baking sun. Officers taking wrong turns and getting entire units lost in the middle of the desert. That kind of shit.”
“The invasion’s only just getting started and it’ll be a while until we can see the full picture. We’re probably only noticing the stuff going going right for this invasion thanks to the fog of war.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Kristoff shrugged. “Oh right, and speaking of that stuff… You said you were a logistics specialist back in the Army, right?”
Ramhart nodded. “Yeah. 2nd Logistics Regiment represent.”
“In your expert opinion, do you think our country could pull off this shit if it wanted to?”
Ramhart smiled and shook his head, “Oh, hell no, dude! God f*cking no.”
“On God?”
“Memoryholed your Motorpool Mondays already?” Ramhart smirked. “Bruh. I can guarantee you half our aviation assets ain’t getting off the ground. Half our vehicles won’t start. And half our tanks will run out of biogas. And that’s on Day 1. We f*cking WISH we could blitzkrieg, say, the NAFS like the Seffies are doing to Xio right now.”
“Ain’t our military budget, like, five times’ higher than the Seffies? How come all their shit works and ours don’t?”
“Something something, purchasing power parity. Something something, Anglian industry, weapons shipments, and financial aid. Something something, the Seffies actually spent months if not years seriously preparing for an invasion rather than f*cking around drone striking Indigenous kids in the woods. Complicated shit.” Ramhart shrugged. “But yeah, again, we don’t know the full picture of how the Seffies are doing. This rapid rate of advance they’re pulling off can’t be sustainable. They gotta be outpacing their logistics or some shit.”

“Fair enough.” Kristoff shrugged. “So anyway, what’s your plan now that we’ve all been caught up in an honest-to-God invasion?”
Ramhart paused in thought. “I’ll wait until we can evacuate the city by bus or train. I can finish the rest of my course back home since this ‘study abroad’ programme was optional anyway. If not and classes here aren't cancelled, then I guess I’ll keep calm, carry on… and hope the new Seffie administration leaves me the f*ck alone instead of bombing my lecture hall or some shit while I’m trying to get my degree. And you?”
“I’ve signed up for the border patrol programme, so I might be getting a call-out notice today. Like, for active military service.”
“By the Xieikan government?” Ramhart raised an eyebrow. “Wait, is that shit even legal?”
“Yeah, of course.” Kristoff nodded. “It was a clause in my contract that I read and voluntarily signed off on. The Rhodellian government is perfectly fine with it so long as it’s on a voluntary basis. It’s no different than, say, flying abroad to Baltica as a war tourist and enlisting in the Seylosian Foreign Humanitarian Corps or the Old Guard of Govir.”
“That’s pretty cool.” Ramhart gave a thumbs up. “When’d you join up?”
“I began working part-time as a border ranger since I started my ‘study abroad’ programme here last year. You get pretty decent pay just for walking around the desert with a gun doing f*ck-all.”
“Huh. If you’re a border ranger, then what the f*ck are you doing lounging here in this common room instead of bleeding out in the middle of the Aurelian Waste?”
“I got classes too, bruh.” Kristoff laughed. “But yeah, it’s funny how all the fun shit always just happens to go down when I’m off-duty. If the Seffies had just invaded a day earlier, I’d be f*ckin’ dead already. Crazy shit, right?”

“Yeah.” Ramhart chuckled. “Have fun when you get to the frontlines…  wherever the f*ck they’ll be in a few days.” He then paused for a while. “I’m kinda jealous of you, not gonna lie.”
“That I might actually get to shoot at stuff while you’re going home?”
“Yeah.” Ramhart nodded. “Back in Nordwalde, an EFP hit my truck and my FOB got mortared a couple of times. But I’ve never actually shot at anyone or gotten shot at in return.”
“Yeah, me neither, bro.” Kristoff chuckled. “So I guess this’ll be where I’ll be popping my own cherry.”
“On God? You’ve been patrolling the border this long and you ain’t ever been in a skirmish or had pot-shots taken at you?”
“Yeah. The border ain’t that hot. And back in the Army I was in Intel and, whenever I did leave the wire, I only ever got to do basic HUMINT shit. Anyway, if you wanted to smoke people so badly, why didn’t you pick Rifleman for your MOS?”
“Oh, believe me I did!" Ramhart chuckled. "The recruiter called back before I shipped out and said all the grunt options I ticked off were full. All that were left was Logistical Specialist and Unit Supply Specialist, and I ended up picking the former via coin toss.”
“Oh. That sucks. Sorry to hear that. At least logistics and sustainment is still a very respectable field.”
“Yeah…”
“You know, you should consider joining up with the border force. It ain't the high-speed low-drag tactical operator experience by a longshot, but at least it's still taking on volunteers. Especially Rhodellian ones.”
Ramhart tapped his prosthetic leg. “Uh... Will they even let me in?”
Kristoff shrugged. “In the Rhodellian Army, there’s a spec ops dude who lost his leg and is still active-duty and doing operator shit. Over here, I don't think it matters if your leg is made of 3D-printed plastic, metal, or flesh, so long as you can prove that you're still physically and mentally capable for the job, you can get in.”
Ramhart paused in thought. “Hm… I still gotta finish my degree, though.”
Kristoff patted him on the shoulder. “Not that I'm out to f*ck with your education and career prospects, but... Think about it, man, when you go home, you ain’t getting drafted to fight Anglia because you’re a full-time student. And, if we’re unlucky, this whole war might be over by the time you finish your degree in two years. This could very well be your last chance at ending a motherf*cker’s life in cold blood. Legally, that is.”
“Well, shit.” Ramhart stroked his chin. “Aight. So where do I sign up? I'm perfectly okay with repeating a year. Worst-case scenario, I can just drop-out and re-apply for the course or a different uni's Aurelian History programme. It's not that deep. And in any case, fighting Seffies sounds a hell of a lot more appealing than exam revision.”
“If you're completely sure you're willing to go that far just to get started on your scalp collection, then sure. There’s a recruiting office on the other side of campus near the Student Union building. I can show you it when you’re done with lectures.”
“Yeah, I’ll take you up on that.” Ramhart smiled and nodded.
“What lecture theatre is your seminar in and when does it finish?”
“Room A10, Vosō Ne Building. Eleven-hundred hours.”
“Cool. Guess I’ll be seeing you later then.”
“Yeah.” Ramhart stood up and began strapping his assault pack back on. “Speaking of, I really gotta start moving my ass. Catch you in a bit, man.”
“Yeah, fairs. I ain’t gonna hold you here.” Kristoff chuckled and raised his fist up to Ramhart. “Take care, brother!”
“Yeah, you too!” Ramhart exchanged fistbumps with Kristoff and began walking off. “Peace!”

Edited February 21 by Rhodellia (see edit history)

[Xio]

Day 5
Horizon

The steel wheels rumbled down the desert train tracks, rails so recently well-worn there wasn’t a sand grain on the metal. Sunlight from the cloudless midday sky shining off the reinforced hull of the armoured train. The train’s three engines pushed and pulled, straining at their maximum capacity, causing the entire convoy of armoured and transport carts to shudder and groan, as if any minute they’d fall apart. In the far distant horizon, the hasty preparation of war scarred the landscape with deep trenches and makeshift fortifications all along the Xi river.

Karla sat on her bed’s grim-yellow mattress, hunched over with her face illuminated by her phone’s screen only a couple inches from her eyes. Karlia swiped through her phone, circling between Wittier, the RNN app, FIYD, anything to keep her mind off what was coming, who was coming. She was one of the lucky ones that got to sit in a commandeered passenger carriage and not packed in like sardines at the front in the armoured carriages, or the real poor sods forced to sit inside the tanks and trucks in the back, dragged in or purchased from all across the glube. Before they had set off Karla had managed to snatch a glimpse at the arsenal packed into the back of the train, looked like the backdrop to an international firearms convention more than equipment for the field. Fulgistani, Kirvinian, Mitonese, Rhodellian, Tagmatine, hell even a little bit of Seylosian. At first it was like entering a candy shop, until she had overheard two Xioans chatting in their native tongue within the train station they had all be shephard outside of. After three years of being stationed in rural northern Xio, she had become quite well-versed in the local language.

She had hidden behind a crate of ammunition, one of thousands donated by the Mitonese, just around the corner of the room the two men spoke in. With slow and deliberate deep breaths she maintained utmost silence, not daring to put any of her weight on the crate in case it creaked or its contents shifted inside.
“Rhodellia will be furious. They’d have never agreed to this if they knew it was eighty percent-”

One general was cut off by the other, who’s raspier yet sterner voice told Karla he was clearly the one in charge.
“Rhodellians have fought in Baltica and against their own neighbours. They’re hardened by war.”

“They’re just children-- twenty one at most! Half of them are missing an arm or a leg- we know this won’t be--”
The pleading subordinate was once again cut off by his superior.

“All of our ports but Qobhais are overrun with refugees. Spineless allies, only Mito agreed to take any, what do you want me to do? Dump our potential fodder at ports already overcrowded? Turn these trains around with all our ammunition and vehicles?”
The subordinated tried to speak up again, but was quickly halted. Karla heard the wooden boards beneath their feet creak and groan. For a second she almost fled in case they were walking towards her, but instead their footsteps became fainter. The superior general continues to speak, the venom in his mouth frothing in anger.
“The Fulgistani abandoned us at the first moment of conflict, the Barbaros colonists down south give us pittance when we sent our navy to assist them. These are the only foreigners willing to help us because they signed some bloody contract and you want to send them home? Send them back to their mummy and daddy, whilst our own children die in sand pits and their blood spilt on rocks?”

Karla felt the rage deep within the superior’s voice within her own stomach which twisted into knots in response.

“We’re not the only ones at war sir- we can’t expect them to drop everything for us.” Once again the subordinate tried to reason with his higher-up. Instead the superior’s voice only raised higher, threatening to be heard by the students in the other rooms of the train station.

“Zaxar? They invaded first, they’re the ones who brought us into this bloody war in the first place! Azuria is already falling to the damned Louvians! And what is Kirvina doing? The ‘almighty stabiliser’ of the continent?”
Karla felt the boards creak again, slowly. The superior’s voice dropped down into a deep guttural snarl, hidden behind clenched teeth.
“F*cking. Nothing. I don’t care what the Mountain Lord is saying about an eighty percent death rate, get these kids on those trains now, or I will personally see to you being placed at the first line of the fallback.”

Karla took this as her moment to leave, gently slipping away with her heart beating so hard and fast against her chest it felt as if it was about to burst out from within her ribcage. She threw herself behind another crate of ammunition just as the two generals walked past who stopped in the entrance room of the station. The superior still talking, though his voice now calmer and quieter still out of earshot of the students outside, barely audible to Karla as she gently leaned onto the crate to just get a little bit closer.

“Death is preferable than being taken. The Rhodellian government doesn’t need to know we’ve already calculated how many will die at the fall-back line.”
A cold chuckle escaped the superior’s mouth, sending a shiver down Karla’s back. The last words the superior said searing into her mind:
“And if we position this fodder correctly, there’ll probably be none left to tell their government anyway. Get rid of these land-stealing barbaros from our empire.”

“You’re sick.” The subordinated muttered in disgust, the superior walking out, as he began to yell for the students to get ready to board. Just as the subordinated was about to follow his superior, Karla pressed to much of her weight onto the crate, causing its insides to jostle and the whole crate to shift slightly. Karla’s heart froze in terror as the subordinate turned his attention to the noise of trickling bullets.

“Who’s there?” The subordinate commanded, his voice suddenly raising to carry the authority one would expect from a general. Karla awkwardly rose up from behind the crates. The two stared at each other, both knowing the other knew that she had heard the whole thing. The subordinate was the first to break the silence, his words making Karla’s eyebrows raise in surprise.
“I need you to help me.” His tone was a mix of commanding and pleading, without her mind even coming to a conclusion, before she had even weighed the consequences of what she had heard, her mouth blurted out with confidence she hadn’t felt in years:
“I will.”

 

The jostling of the train dragged Karla back to the present, followed by a sudden silhouette in the carriageway. Her new ‘comrade’, as he put it. Some logistics nerd who’d been staying at Xiseka. Her only night of sleep on the train continuously disrupted by him going on and on about how he could ‘totally snipe some Seffies from our train window’.
“Hey Karla, almost at the front line! This is gonna be so f*cking cool!” He cheered, clambering past her and onto her mattress to look out of the window.

“Get off my bed Ram.” She sighed, shuffling to the edge of the mattress, still staring at her phone. Ramhart just shrugged in response, his face plastered up against the smudged plastic window.
“With a couple barrels of ammo I bet-”

“You could kill a trillion Sefesians?” She groaned, completely apathetic to his excitement. Ramhart chuckled at her absolute ‘doneness’ with him, finally moving himself off her mattress and onto his, on the other side of their room, only at arms-length away from her.

The entire floor was just three separate mattresses.

Ramhart remained silent for a couple minutes, taking out his own phone. His eyebrows furrowed as a look of confusion took over his face.
“How the f*ck is there 4G out here? Talk about mismanaged priorities. No wonder the Seffies blitzkrieg them, all their money is in cell towers.”

Karla just rolled her eyes, though as soon as the peace and quiet returned, another uni student popped his head out from outside the room, their other ‘comrade’.
“Get your asses out here. We’re almost at Hanedii... Hanodhii.. Hana… F*ck it we’re almost at Hannah Soupdiri.”

Karla reluctantly got up from her mattress, slipping past their ‘comrade’ into the carriage hallway, where Rhodellian students and Mitonese volunteers were already queueing, taking her place in the line just behind their ‘comrade’. Ramhart just barely squeezed in behind Karla.

“Welcome volunteers, recruits, heroes of Xio!” A cheerful voice yelled out from the front, one that immediately caused Karla’s hands to go cold. The superior. “-To Hanēdhi Soōdiri. The Sefesians have already made contact with the fall-back line in the south, we have forty eight hours to prepare!”

A long thin smile stretched across the superior’s face, a sinister betrayal of his happy-go-lucky tone.
“Good luck!”

Edited February 12 by Xio (see edit history)

[Advocatius]

DAY 1

To: Kophīne Linosos, Secretary of External Relations for the Empire of Great @Xio
From: Zachary Monroe, Minister Of Foreign Affairs for the Socialist Federal Republic of Advocatius

Greetings and Salutations,

I write this on behalf of Premier of the Advocatius, Louis Monet, to address the most recent circumstances with war betwixt Great Xio and Sefesia.
Advocatius wishes full support to Great Xio and it's people during these troubled times, the actions of Sefesia are based upon cruel imperialism and oppression of the native peoples of Aurelia, because of this Advocatius, as a member of the Aurelian League, will take actions against Sefesia as listed below.

• Advocatius will impose heavy sanctions upon the Democratic Republic of Sefesia in response to the invasion
• A Volunteer program will be set up in the Advocatian Armed Forces for servicemen who wish to fight alongside the forces of Great Xio
• Advocatian manufactured weapons shall be sold to the Xioan Military

We wish for the sake of Great Xio the best in such troubled times, and that the actions taken by Advocatius can do their most in aiding Great Xio, and to hope for sake of Aurelia that peace can one day return to the continent, cheers.

Sincerely,

Ministry of Foreign Affairs

Edited April 22 by Advocatius
armed forces not defence forces (see edit history)

[Ateenia]

Day 5

 

[Xio]

MORNING OF DAY 6
“TRANSFER”

 

MEIWANJING – OCCUPIED

The train carriage rumbled, jolting upwards, the rails beneath them crooked and worn down. Rōpherapīka slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurred. The only light that shone inside were from the cracks in the carriage ceiling and locked doors, occasionally a stray ray of sunlight struck Rhope’s face, forcing him to squint even in the dark. His backside hurt, constantly pressed against the corrugated iron walls of the featureless carriage.
 

Despite having been packed to capacity with people, the carriage had remained deathly silent for the past couple days. The only noise came from the outside wurld and the occasional crying or shouting. Rhope had kept to himself, his knees tight up against his chest with his chin resting atop them. Like all rural Xioans he had been taught basic maths and literature at his local temple, the government’s way of propping up its literacy ratings. Each time the train shuddered or went over a bump, he counted every thump. He estimated that the train was only four or five carriages long, just enough to fit half of the Silodhāa Guild.
 

He didn’t linger on that thought for too long.
 

Suddenly, the train jolted backwards, Rhope’s body sliding against the wall to the side. Several unsuspecting standing adults almost toppled over, yelps and panicked chattering filled the carriage for the first time since they had been shovelled inside. Rhope managed to avoid toppling over, his hand pressing against the corrugated wall behind him. The train hadn’t stopped, but it was slowing down. Through the slivers of holes and gashes at the door, Rhope saw the brief flashes of buildings and skylines – they were in a city. But before Rhope could stand up to get a better look, others pushed and shoved at one another to peek through the doors, blocking Rhope’s view.
 

The train let out a horrific, high pitch screech. Anyone who had stood up was thrown to the ground, the train coming to a complete stand-still. Amongst the yelling and groans and cursing, no one had noticed the click of the locks outside. The carriage doors slid open to the sides with a great big thud. The morning light of dawn streamed into the carriage. Rhope, like many others, shielding his eyes from the bright light. In the light-induced haze, a figure snatched him by the arm and yanked him forward. He tilted his head up, squinting. Holding him by the arm was a man in yellow and grey camo gear. His face was covered by goggles and a bandanna, his head protected by a simple round soldier's helmet. In the man’s other hand held close to his body was a rifle of sorts, Rhope wasn’t entirely sure.
 

They had stopped just outside a cargo terminal, rows of soldiers stood off in the distance as men and women were shoved and yanked out of the carriages. Surrounding them was the city of Meiwanjing, almost all of its lights had been shut off and the streets deserted. All around the terminal, buildings had been burnt down and demolished until only heaps of soot-covered rubble remained. The further out from the terminal, the fewer buildings had been reduced to smouldering ash and concrete, but even in the distance Rhope saw plumes of black smoke rising. They were intentionally burning down parts of the city. Kids, like himself, were individually dragged away by soldiers. Rhope heard their cries and screaming, children ripped away from their parents. Rhope remained silent the entire time, knowing better than to intentionally or accidentally piss off an enemy soldier. He tried to keep in step with the soldier, forced to make quick, wide strides to keep up. Twice he tripped, but the man kept going, dragging Rhope along until he could get his footing again. On his second fall, Rhope finally saw where he was being taken to – a lone lorry sat off the side of the terminal. The lorry’s trailer had square holes cut into it, just big enough to stick one’s hand through. The back of the trailer slide upwards, revealing chairs bolted to the floor.
 

Rhope’s eyes grew wide with fear, almost instinctively he grabbed at his kidnapper’s gloved hands, yanking and punching, trying anything to loosen his grip. But he didn’t, the soldier remained stern, and dragged Rhope all the way into the trailer, pulling out a pair of handcuffs.
 

Within less than five minutes, Rhope, along with five other young teens, had been separated from their guild and cuffed to their seats. The last thing he saw before the trailer’s back was slammed shut was the city’s skyline against the rising dawn, smoke choking out its air, the sun a bloodied splotch against the horizon.