Sovereign

"Combatting magic is one of the greatest challenges we face. It requires the most devious tactics, tons upon tons of destroyed military equipment, and mountains of dead men."

- General Oswald Kluge

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City of Eirhow

Free State of Wuringen

Executor Building

The smell of industrial smog dominated the bustling city of Eirhow. The streets were busy all day, as men of all kinds, workers, soldiers, and specialists worked to keep up the massive industries that blotted the city.

And on its political center, the Executor Building, now the Headquarters of the so-called “Eirhow Directorate” stood as a center of the Provisional Government. Flags of the NRF bristled through the almost soulless, neon-lit corporate buildings surrounding the Executor Building. And in the street directly below it, the Executor Building itself looked down on those who passed the now-called “Avenue of Revolution” like a towering, imposing colossus that demanded all those below to follow the new state.

The “New Republic”.

Defense Minister Geoffrey Heindhöff walked out of his armored vehicle as his security convoy stopped in front of the Executor Building. Armed republican soldiers, those who had sided with the Putsch, lined the checkpoints. Upon seeing Heindhöff however, he and his men were allowed immediately to go inside, without further inspection.

Inside, the hallways were stocked full of armed guards, armies of bureaucrats and arguing politicians, clerks, and the varieties of corporate leaders and envoys that awaited to meet the Provisional President - Sullivan Rimpler.

At least they’re on my side.

He didn’t mind the massive influence and presence of the megacorporations in Eirhow and the center of the New Republic’s administrative building. In fact, he wanted this. After all, the NRF was split between two factions, that while united at the moment, would no doubt eat each other once the war against women was over.

His faction was made up of the Militarists and the Military-Industrial Complex, alongside the legions of tech corporations that were in the Free State. They represented the current faction that was in charge of most matters at the moment. The interests of the elite CEOs, the Generals, and the High Command.

On the other hand, was Sullivan Rimpler’s more popular “People’s Democracy” faction. Workers, regular soldiers, and the vast majority of men who were in the NRF were with him. It was why Sullivan Rimpler held the position of Provisional President. They were the soul of the NRF. Ideological, truly oppressed, and with a burning resentment against the matriarchy.

Sullivan Rimpler’s faction espoused “Democracy”, and that the working class men should rule the state and control the economy. More importantly, they were more extreme, believing that magic, in all of its forms, should be utterly crushed. By any means necessary, should it be required.

Not that Heindhöff wasn’t the same in that belief, as magic indeed had to be wiped out in his mind, and he didn’t agree with his faction’s opportunist mindset in dealing with magic, as many wanted to acquire women as a new “workforce” for their industries, which he believed could threaten any post-revolutionary state, but he still would not agree to Rimpler’s “People’s Democracy”. Especially when it wouldn’t even be a democracy.

Heindhöff believed in extreme means, yes. But he did not envision a state ruled by one man. A strong liberal democracy, where the market reigned supreme, without intervention from the state or a monarch, where all people would find opportunities to rise to the top was his goal. To create the envisioned republic that liberal republicans dreamt of for centuries.

Not its bastardized form that Rimpler was creating.

It’s nothing but a farce. Rule of the mob. An angry, violent mob. All to serve one man, a new dictator. A new tyrant.

Sullivan’s power grab was nothing to scoff at. While he and his faction were focused on the ongoing civil war, slowly, the charismatic and popular Sullivan Rimpler began exerting massive influence in the nascent civilian apparatus of the New Republic. Somehow, his lies to the masses of men, nothing but ideological nonsense to mask his consolidation of power, sold well.

He even found out that Alfonso, the Director of the Orlish Intelligence Agency, once his main ally, and his secondary conspirator, was now a stooge of the man. It seemed as if the tentacle of the Provisional President would soon overwhelm the influence of the megacorporations and the military.

Soon, they would all be under him. And he imagined, that once the Civil War was over, that High Command would be purged. All while the corporations would be “seized” and “nationalized”.

As he and his security guards climbed up through the elevators, his frown hardened.

Truthfully, there was nothing he could do yet. Sullivan Rimpler was too powerful. He was in charge of the military, yes, but the military wasn’t here. They were at the front, battling the enemy. All while the new “Republican Guard” grew and grew in the interior of the Provisional Government.

A security force my ass. He’s just building a parallel military to keep us in check.

First, the internal security apparatus. Then, a new internal army. After that, no one would be able to challenge him. His consolidation of power would be complete, and the Provisional Government would not even live to see the day of trying out democracy.

When he arrived at Sullivan Rimpler’s office, the Provisional President did not look back at him. Heindhöff eyed the back of his chair, and his black hair, as the Provisional President calmly watched the towering skyscrapers of the Eirhow skyline. It was dark at night, yet the city was busy as ever.

Heindhöff wondered what elusive thoughts were occurring in the Provisional President’s mind, but he kept his tongue in check.

“It’s disgusting,” Rimpler said, almost ominously, as he refused to turn his chair around to face Heindhöff. “The corporate degenerates have been exploiting the masses of this city. Their fellow men. All as they sit in their shiny towers. Complaining that women ‘have more’. Traitors…aren’t they?”

“Sir, I would like to ask. Why did you recall me from my post? The Halian Campaign isn’t going to win itself. I want to know what is so important…for you to call me here.”

Sullivan turned around to face Heindhöff. His left eye was closed, permanently closed by an old injury during the Great War. It was the face of a man who had seen war closely. A mere Lieutenant when he returned to Orland, his rise was nothing but meteoric. For someone of such low rank. A mere nobody, to rise to such heights. To become the face of the Revolution.

He was somewhat terrifying.

His smile was cruel.

“Tell me, Minister Heindhöff. Will we win this war?”

“Absolutely. They are cowering under our might. And with my ongoing mobilization of all of our industrial might, soon, they shall be overwhelmed by our sheer numbers.”

“Our manpower isn’t unlimited.”

He was right. While there were significantly fewer women on the frontlines, as was the nature of the Royal Guard, being an all-volunteer force, men were on all metrics, outnumbered by women. Many had already died long before. Even with their sheer industrial strength, and with the mass participation of men in the military, if women decided to join the war en masse.

They would lose the numbers game.

“That is why we intend to finish them off before that. We can mobilize our industry and armies faster than they can mobilize their softened and pampered hearts to have the courage to face us in battle. They may have the magic to kill ten men for one woman, but they do not have the guts to do so. We shall exploit that absolutely.”

Heindhöff needed a constant stream of military victories to keep his faction’s influence high. And to ensure that Rimpler would not supplant them. But, if they ran out of time, and the masses of men demanding absolute victory turned sour at their promises, he would be ousted from his de-facto leadership.

As it stood, Heindhöff was the one in charge. He had the military and the corporations with him. But his influence was on the nosedive, while Rimpler’s was on a rocket booster that was en route to the stars. He needed to reverse that somehow.

And I will.

But Rimpler’s smile remained cruel.

“I shall entrust you on that then, Minister Heindhöff.”

“You want me to fail.”

His smile grew.

“We men have no need to beat around the bush, no? No, I do not want you to fail. Even if I stand to benefit from it. But if you do, we have a contingency for that anyway. And then, I would be fully in charge. But, it would not be the best scenario.”

Heindhöff’s eyes narrowed. He had already warned Rimpler of this, yet he would not listen. Experimental technology of that level was beyond dangerous. It was why he absolutely could not lose this campaign too. If he did, the New Republic would turn to its worst options. One that he feared, would spell doom to all of humanity.

Project Icarus - a top-secret project of the OAF and a dozen other Orlish megacorporations to create an autonomous army might be activated. A swarm of self-replicating, self-maintaining, mechs, based around the LSS Mechs that the Army used. It was meant to be a way to truly counter women’s magic.

It would be the pinnacle of men’s technological creations. An army, no, a horde of soulless drones that could grow at will, and fight at will. Those who funded it swore on its potential. Those who created it warned that they might have created a monster, and Heindhöff was on their side.

Who knew what “Tau Core” would do once activated? He doubted anyone did, as the thing’s intelligence had long been self-evolving on its own. The only thing that prevented Project Icarus from becoming a reality was the Contingency Protocol. Tau Core would not be placed on the “Hive Center” unless approved by the men who created the project. And they would only do so if the Revolution failed.

Tau Core and Project Icarus would however be women’s, the Goddess’, and magic’s greatest mortal enemy. A legion of soulless machines of technology prepared to dismantle everything on its path. Unleashing it would be one of men’s greatest desperate measures, only second to the “Salvation Protocol” that called for nuclear armageddon should the Goddess interfere.

“I advise against that. There’s no situation that would ever call for the potential annihilation of humanity.”

“But if they annihilate us men…shouldn’t we bite back? That’s your line yourself, Minister Heindhöff, wasn’t it?”

“You would not have absolute control if all was ashes.”

“I do not aspire for absolute control for the sake of absolute control, Minister Heindhöff. I aspire for it to steer this corrupted society to the right path.”

“Mob rule.”

“The Revolution would be a utopia once it is all over. But it needs a vanguard, a guiding hand until its completion. But if such a future is impossible, then it would be better to reduce this world to ashes.”

“You’re a fanatic.”

“The path to Revolution’s success requires fanatics who would not stray from its path, Minister. Greedy opportunists like you and your faction, however, would be an eventual detriment. And so what? In the eyes of all women, we are both fanatics.”

At the end of the day, they were both in the same boat. To women, they were both one and the same. Leaders of a movement that sowed chaos and destruction. Extremists. But Heindhöff scoffed at those ideas. He may be against magic, and he may be against the matriarchy, but he wasn’t a megalomaniac like the man before him.

The same man who would unleash hell on Pollos should he fail.

The NRF wasn’t a monolith, and Heindhöff found it distasteful that he was lumped with this ideological madman before him. But the Provisional Government could not split yet. For now, they were in one fight.

He would have to figure out the most optimal way to beat magic should it arrive on the field then. Win victory, and sideline Rimpler’s influence.

“That’s why we shall beat them first.”

Then I’ll beat you second.