I would like that as well. One map that I hope Zen douse when we reach 2100 would be a map of the administrative divisions of the Eimerican Federation even though we can kind of get an idea of that by looking at the 2000 map in "The World from 1946 to 2000" update I feel like some states like Kanata, Fusang, Mayapan, and the Cherokee would be broken up to allow the minority groups living in the area representation.
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Oh, that one. I know that happened but I forgot the name.
I do have an infographic planned for Jerusalem's districts. I'll be posting it around 2038.
An Eimerican administrative map is certainly one of the planned infographics I have, but I'm still planning what the internal borders would look like (and the story to get those borders). Nothing's been set in stone yet.
- 1
Alas, it seems all manner of resistance against the Jerusalem regime is all lost in Europe now. Only other faction that can maybe resist them would be the Eimerican Confederation and the Sri Vijayans, and those two are dealing with their own problems.
I for one welcome our new Ryukyuan overlords.
- 1
The Deal, Part 3
The Chancellery
As Jonas left the building, he found the street outside was packed with protesters, all of them focusing their ire on him. They proudly waved Roman flags and shouted protest slogans and questions in German and Greek.
“Minister Astikas! Why has the Ministry of Immigration refused to declare Jerusalem refugees safe from deportation?”
“The safety of refugees is our greatest concern,” Jonas said, “Russia will not turn away those in need at a time like this.”
“But you agreed to deportations at the talks!”
“Nothing is finalized at this time,” Jonas said, “Rest assured, I will negotiate a compromise that satisfies both sides.”
“How can you even consider negotiating with Jerusalem?”
“Both sides? They’re extremists! That’s exactly their rhetoric! They say both sides are the same, and you're just going to prove it?”
Jonas didn’t answer. He kept walking to his car.
“Answer us!”
“It’s in the best interests of all Russians and Roman refugees that we keep the peace with all of our neighbor,” Jonas said, “And ensure this country avoids economic ruin.”
“There is no peace with Jerusalem!”
Jonas got into his car and drove away.
“Traitor! How can you treat us like bargaining chips?!”
The Winter Palace
Olga paced around the office.
“This is a disaster,” she said, “An utter disaster!”
Tsar Borislav, sitting at his desk, listened intently to Olga’s rambling.
“Later this morning, we’re going to sign that trade deal,” she said, “Something my cabinet, a majority of the Duma, and a lot of the general public has agreed to already. But I just can’t shake the feeling that it’s the wrong choice. Just because a majority agrees to it doesn’t mean it’s right. I mean, this would deal the anti-Jerusalem cause a death blow. The government in exile would be disbanded and deported, along with every single Roman who escaped the regime. Schengen-1 would become Schengen-2, then -3, and so on until everyone is back in Jerusalem’s pocket, like some twisted mirror of the old Central Powers, and the committee imposes its will on the world. And I’m powerless to stop it.”
“I see,” Borislav said.
“Do you remember the war?” Olga said. “When Molotov surrendered, he was signing away the existence of the CSSR. He was left no choice but to sign a treaty to destroy everything he built. Am I doing the same thing? Signing away the sovereignty of Russia? And being given no choice but to do so?”
“Perhaps,” Borislav said.
“You’re not even listening to me,” Olga said.
“No, no, I am,” Borislav said, “I just don’t know what to say.”
“You can still stop this,” Olga said, “Just say you’re against it.”
“You know I can’t,” Borislav said, “I have to follow the Duma’s precedent. Nobody wants another Tsar Vladimir.”
“If you can’t do it, then I’ll do it myself,” Olga said, “I’ll override the Duma.”
“Remember Chernomyrdin?” Borislav said.
“I know full well what Chernomyrdin did,” Olga said, “I was there. The old Tsaritsa died in October 1993. A week later, Chernomyrdin declared himself regent, and in December, he moved to eliminate you and your supporters.”
“And he would’ve thrown me in prison if not for you,” Borislav said.
“It was my first major mission, and return to Russia, since the war,” Olga said, “And out of the blue, Ms. Anne sent me to Russia to protect you. Do you know how hard it was to protect you against Chernomyrdin’s goons while not causing an international incident? And also trying to keep your sister alive but also not give Chernomyrdin leverage?”
“But you did it, no?” Borislav said.
“Well, we all made it out alive, so I’d call that a win,” Olga said, “Point is, I know what Chernomyrdin did because I was right there, fighting against him. I’m not him.”
“Well, you might not be, but another person at your desk might be,” Borislav said, “That’s why the State Articles limit your powers too. To prevent another Chernomyrdin.”
“So I am Molotov after all,” Olga said, “I have no option but to take the path that will lead to our inevitable destruction.”
“Look, I’m sorry I can’t help,” Borislav said, “I wish I could. But in my opinion, as much of a crazy desk-obsessed equalist Molotov was, I don’t think he would want you to just roll over and give up.”
“Right,” Olga said, “He’d want me to go down swinging. But what should I swing at? And how?”
Kleinrom
“Pack everything up,” Izinchi said, “I’m going to call Chancellor Amur and try to reestablish ourselves in Kursk or wherever. Or maybe move to Turkestan, they might be willing. Persia’s too dangerous, Afghanistan is too remote, what am I even thinking if Afghanistan is remote then Turkestan is remote oh my gods we’re screwed we’re all going to die helphelphelp—”
They were barely packing up the hotel suite they had made their temporary headquarters. The news had left them completely dejected. Gebhard was drinking vodka straight from the bottle at 10 in the morning. Izinchi was trying to hold everything together, but it was clear she was only doing it to hide her own anxiety. Kresge had slipped out through the back door of the consulate. Joseph and Franz had taken Friedrich back to Kiev to pack their own things. Sophie, who waited in the hallway, suggested they relocate to Kanata. Wilhelmina sat in the middle of the room, staring off into space as she wondered what would happen next.
They had just announced the terms of the final deal. Russia would lift its embargo on Jerusalem. It would repatriate all Roman citizens residing in its borders by the end of the year. The border would be closed to any further refugees. Russia would also withdraw from Schengen and enter into an exclusive economic partnership with Jerusalem, in which it would enjoy free trade and full access to Jerusalem’s markets. It was by all accounts an unequal treaty. The Russian people might enjoy a temporary reprieve from their current economic woes, and the famine might have been averted, but in the long term, they would be under Jerusalem’s thumb. And nobody realized it. Why wasn’t anybody seeing the truth? Did they even care about the truth? Or did they prefer a false sense of security and stability instead? No. She couldn't keep staring like this. Something had to happen. But what?
On a whim, Wilhelmina stood up and walked out the door. “That’s it, frak this.”
The other two were too busy wallowing in despair, Gebhard with his vodka and Izinchi with her Edinburgh Nahua slang, to stop her. Outside, Sophie joined her.
“Huh, I didn’t think you’d have it in you,” she said.
“I can’t just stand by any longer,” Wilhelmina said, “Everybody’s making a mistake.”
“You finally see it, huh?” Sophie said.
“Yes, yes I do,” Wilhelmina said, “If nobody else is going to speak out, I will.”
“You know you can still leave,” Sophie said, “You can fly to Kanata, where you and your family will be completely safe.”
“And what, leave Russia to die, and put Kanata up next on the chopping block?” Wilhelmina said. “I already abandoned my people once. I can’t and won’t abandon them again.”
“Don’t you just want to let someone else do it?” Sophie said. “Like Olga?”
“Olga’s hands are tied,” Wilhelmina said, “And so is the Tsar’s. But mine aren’t, because I’m not a Russian politician. I’m a guest.”
Sophie smiled. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
Wilhelmina stormed out the front door. A crowd of exiles had started gathering, most of them worried and looking to the government in exile for answers. She took a deep breath and continued walking.
“No doubt you’ve heard the news,” she said, “They’re signing the treaty later today.”
The exiles nodded their heads dejectedly.
“Well, I’m not going to give up,” she said, “Even if everybody else already has, not me.”
The exiles looked up. She heard some gasps and murmurs, followed by excited talking.
“Follow me,” she said.
They went to the affordable housing tenements that formed the center of Kleinrom’s community. There, Wilhelmina stopped in front of the Wall of Faces, as they had started calling the bulletin board covered in pictures of the missing. The collage had greatly expanded in both directions, almost making a ring around the meeting area, with pictures stapled to utility poles, pillars, benches, and anything in general. The faces of the lost looked back at Wilhelmina. These pictures had mostly been taken in happier times, at weddings, birthday parties, graduations, vacations, school and work events…the last remaining evidence that there was something better before the committee. The treaty would destroy all that evidence. This wall would come down, and the pictures would be burned and forgotten. Their owners would be deported to certain death. The last memories of the old Reich would be lost again. The faces of the lost would be disappear forever. And this was something she finally would not stand for.
“Take your pictures back,” Wilhelmina said, “If this wall is coming down, it’ll come down on our own terms.”
They set to work. Within minutes, every surface was bare.
“We’re going on a march,” Wilhelmina said.
She was done waiting for people to save her, or to do her work for her.
The Winter Palace
“…we are just moments away from history in the making…”
“…expected to arrive shortly…”
“…destiny of Russia is to be shaped here, at the symbolic center of the tsars’ power…”
Olga and Borislav sat at the table, patiently waiting. Sergey, Yekaterina, and Jonas were chatting near the doorway. The reporters and photographers had slowly begun filing in now, taking pictures even though Olga would rather they not document this drab event. She remembered watching the Belavezha Accords being signed all the way back then. She looked at the stack of papers in front of her. Inside that treaty was the end of Russia as she knew it. It felt like history was repeating that moment. And she hated she couldn’t do anything to avoid this.
Everything seemed to mirror that previous event. Russian soldiers stood guard in the hallway opposite a battalion of Jerusalemite Crusaders, who stood out in their black tactical gear, constantly buzzing walkie-talkies, and their Jerusalem Cross shoulder badges, symbol of the repression and tyranny the committee perpetrated across Europe. Reporters from both nations were harping on about how this would change the course of history, userhing in a new era of friendship and cooperation between Russia and Jerusalem. How the treaty would save Russia from economic collapse and famine. How Jerusalem could be brought back in from the cold and be convinced to peacefully reform into something respectable or at least sane. They were all wrong. As soon as she signed the treaty, it would be another Belavezha. Modern Russia would cease to exist all over again. It would be nothing more than a puppet of Jerusalem, its vessel by which its will could be imposed on the rest of the world. Something had to happen.
She started hearing shouting from outside, as well as a woman’s voice coming through a megaphone or something. The others heard it too. The reporters and photographers and camera people retreated from the signing room. The soldiers of both nations also heard the commotion and turned their heads, though they stayed at their posts. The Crusaders’ walkie-talkies buzzed with much more intensity, their handlers sounding very annoyed if not angry.
“Why don’t you see what’s going on?” Borislav said.
“You should go too,” Olga said, “You’re the tsar, after all.”
“Yeah, sure,” Borislav said, “Not like I have anything better to do.”
They went out to one of the front balconies. A large crowd had gathered in Palace Square, almost covering the entire square. They had concentrated around the Yeremey Column in the square’s center. The Yeremey Column had been constructed in the 1830s as a monument to Russia’s (relative) successes in the last of the Commonwealth Wars and Tsar Yeremey’s reforms in that decade. The granite column was topped with a statue of Perun holding a golden apple, a symbol of Russia’s military victories in the early 19th century. Olga saw a familiar woman standing in front of the column, holding up a megaphone.
“Listen to our story!” Wilhelmina said. “This may be our last chance!”
Of course she’d lead off with that reference. Ha. Ha. Olga couldn’t resist mentally laughing in an intentionally horrible and forced way.
“Okay, then,” Olga said, looking to the other trade delegates, “We’re listening.”
One by one, people stood next to Wilhelmina, who handed them the megaphone.
“My name is Matilda Corrientes,” a woman said, holding back tears, “I’m from Gaeta, Lazio. They killed my wife and took our son Ernst. He was only five.”
Marie held up a family photo with her son front and center. “This is what he looks like. Has anybody seen him?”
Another woman soon stepped up.
“My name is Erica Jung,” she said, “I’m from Valencia, Aragon. I haven’t seen my parents in two years. This is what they look like.”
She held up her phone, which showed a photo of her parents at her graduation. “Please, has anyone seen them?”
A man in uniform stepped up. “My name is Karl Dietmar. I was in the Kaiserliche Heer for ten years. Logistics and rapid deployment. After Red Christmas, they came to my base. They told me I was a Crusader now. A week later, my unit was hanging bodies on cranes. Gender traitors, they told us. One was my ex-boyfriend. Please, don’t forget the crimes Jerusalem has committed.”
“I’m Torres,” another man said, “I was an accountant in Constantinople. My family and I got out to Fusang while we could, but my friends Adrian, Arnold, and Manfred didn’t. I’m here in Russia because I need to know what happened to them!”
One by one, more exiles received the megaphone from Wilhelmina, introducing themselves and their lost loved ones to the crowd and any who listened. A Russian relative of a woman who had died in the Taurica camps spoke about the harsh conditions there, and her speech overlapped with that of a French woman who spoke of escaping the camps in Gallia by way of Bremerhaven's Unterstrasse. An Arab man who escaped into Persia talked about the forced marches into the Arabian Desert, where Arabs and non-Christians were forced into walled-up ghost towns with no food, water, or electricity, let alone crucial air conditioning. Thousands had already died, and thousands more desperately risked their lives to swim across the Persian Gulf at night. The situation was even worse with the Berbers, who were being forced at gunpoint to march on foot into “Imperial Homeland Africa,” which was better known as the Sahara Desert. Olga looked at her trade delegates. Yekaterina was saying something disapproving in her native Mongol. Jonas seemed to have a renewed vigor in his eyes. Sergey was lost in thought. The testimonies the exiles gave seemed to be resonating. But would it be enough?
---
After the police cleared a path through the unexpectedly large protest, Josiah’s car pulled up to the palace. An attendant opened the door for Josiah, and he walked inside the palace. The Jerusalemite Crusaders saluted for him, while the Russian honor guard opened the door to the conference room. Sergey waited by the table, along with the rest of the Russian trade delegation and Olga.
“Good morning, Sergey,” Josiah said, “I’m ready to sign the treaty.”
“There’s been a change of plans, Mr. Burkard,” Sergey said, “We won’t be signing the treaty.”
“What?” Josiah said.
“We won’t be conducting this morning’s session,” Yekaterina said, “Chancellor Kirova and His Majesty the Tsar have pulled the plug on the talks, on the Duma’s recommendation.”
“This is all so sudden,” Josiah said.
“You can go directly to the airport,” Sergey said, “We’ll have your luggage taken there so you don’t have to go to the hotel.”
Josiah laughed. “I don’t understand.”
“Let me make this clear, then,” Sergey said, “You are no longer welcome in Russia.”
“Forgive me, is there an issue?” Josiah said.
“Did you not see the protest outside?” Olga said. “Lady Wilhelmina encouraged dozens of refugees to testify about what they suffered under Jerusalem’s rule. The public reaction here in Russia has been quick and overwhelming.”
Josiah’s face hardened. “Are you really going to cancel an entire agenda based on some random nobodies’ baseless and unfounded slander started maybe an hour ago?”
“We believe them,” Jonas said.
“These last few days you believed me!” Josiah said. “You believed we wanted to come in from the cold!”
“Well, our former position is no longer sustainable,” Yekaterina said.
“In light of public opinion, we have no choice but to defer to the Duma’s will,” Jonas said.
“I’ve already given my assent,” Olga said, barely concealing her smile.
With Final Fantasy on her mind after Wilhelmina's stunt, the franchise's victory fanfare had been constantly playing in her head for the last hour or so.
Josiah clenched his fists. “Cowards. I don’t know how you live with yourselves!”
“We’re used to living with repression,” Olga said, “We know tyranny when we see it.”
“Are you willing to sacrifice your people’s livelihoods just to stroke your ego?” Josiah said.
“I am very familiar with sacrifices,” Olga said, “I’ve had to make plenty of them. As your people would say, God tests us. I’ve been tested with a heavy hand all my life, whether it’s by the Christian god or my gods. Russia doesn’t need Jerusalem. We’ll forge our own path.”
“Then tell me this,” Josiah said, “Your economy is going to go off a cliff in months, and your people are going to starve in the worst famine since Soviet times. And you have done nothing to reduce your emissions. Where else on Earth are carbon emissions falling? Nowhere. Certainly not here in Russia. It’s only happening in Jerusalem because it works. We chose God’s path and have been rewarded for our suffering. We offered to help you do the same, out of God’s infinite mercy, but you stubbornly refuse. Why?”
“We refuse because it’s the right thing to do,” Olga said
“It’s sad to see what effeminate fascist equalist liberal political correctness has done to Russia,” Josiah said, “You can’t even control your own people. Whatever. Go in grace.”
He turned and walked back out. The Crusaders left their posts and formed a protective detail around him. After getting in his car, he called Elias.
“I assume you’re calling me early because they signed it faster than expected,” Elias said.
“No, we ran into some unexpected resistance, and the talks fell apart,” Josiah said, “I’m afraid we won’t be getting a deal anytime soon.”
There was a pause on the other end. Josiah then heard what was either a sigh or a curse.
“A shame,” Elias said, “You did promise you could seal the deal.”
“I know, but I wasn’t counting Russia’s resident ex-princess to actually interfere in our matters for once,” Josiah said.
“Wilhelmina,” Elias spat out, “I didn’t expect her to actually stand up for something. Thought she would run away again, like she always does. Idealists never have a spine.”
“Guess we can’t expect that anymore,” Josiah said.
“Alright, come back to Berlin,” Elias said, “We need you more at home than in Russia.”
“But the ex-princess has to be dealt with,” Josiah said.
“No,” Elias said, “Do you want to make a scene?”
“We need to show them the consequences of continued non-cooperation,” Josiah said.
“Since when did the Josiah Burkard I know rush into a confrontation like that?” Elias said. “You’ll only make future talks impossible. And if we ever go down that route, I would want to do it myself.”
“But they must be sent a message!” Josiah said.
“I know this trade deal meant a lot to you, but we lost today,” Elias said, “We won’t lose again in the future, and we will punish Russia for its insolence, but not today. I will deal with the ex-princess myself.”
“Okay, I get it,” Josiah said.
“Call me again when you’re in the air,” Elias said, hanging up.
Josiah tapped his driver. “Take us to the airport.”
His car drove off.
---
“The motherfrakker is officially gone!”
“We did it!”
“Jerusalem’s gone home!”
“Do you hear the people sing?”
The protesters watched Josiah’s car drive away. The instant it left the square, everybody began laughing and cheering. The exiles hugged and shook hands, crying tears of joy. Slowly, they broke out into happy singing.
“O beautiful for spacious skies
For amber waves of grain
For purple cathedral majesties
Above the peopled plains!
Rhomania! Rhomania!
The angels shed their grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From Eire to Jazeera too!”
Wilhelmina smiled. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I…I did it,” she said.
“Congratulations,” Sophie said, “You did it.”
“Thanks, Sophie,” Wilhelmina said.
“O beautiful for Friedrich’s feet
Whose stern, impassioned stress
A thoroughfare for fairness beat
Across all Europe fair!
Rhomania! Rhomania!
The saints mend thine every flaw
Confirm thy soul in self-control
Thy liberty in law!”
“Why are you thanking me?” Sophie said. “I was literally suggesting you leave the country while you still could.”
“Because you reminded me what was at stake,” Wilhelmina said, “That I couldn’t keep running from these problems. They’re as much my problem as everyone else’s.”
“So…are you going to take the mantle now?” Sophie said.
“I will reconsider,” Wilhelmina said.
“O beautiful for heroes proved
In forging lasting peace
Who more than self their empire loved
And mercy more than life!
Rhomania! Rhomania!
The angels thy gold refine
Till all success be fair and just
And every gain our own!”
“Long live the Reich,” Wilhelmina said, “As long as we are still around, the dream of a free Rome will not die.”
“That’s the spirit,” Sophie said.
“O beautiful for Friedrich’s dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
Rhomania! Rhomania!
The angels shed their grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From Eire to Jazeera—”
Suddenly, a shot rang out, and Wilhelmina fell.
- 1
Both those interactions with the protesters are interesting both with Jonas and with Wilhelmina and Olga.
I guess we now know for sure what the Imperial Homelands are.
I do find it funny how in these dark times Molotov is being quoted about a lot.
YESSSS. THANK YOU WILHELMINA.
FUGE!!!!!!!
Strangely enough I agree with Elias in that it would have been stupid to do something drastic so soon because the Russians and the rest of the "Free World" would immediately connect it back to Jerusalem and the Committee. So that begs the question did Elias call in that assassination or was it a lone wolf by one of those pro-Committee Russian supporters?
Why do I have the feeling that when Josiah calls from the plane it will suddenly explode into a million peace's?
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Damnit. I should’ve known overturring the treaty wouldnt be without consequences. I assume the person that shot Wilhelmina was one of the Russians who were grateful for economic aid from Jerusalem and thus became pissed at Wilhelmina and the exiles. Russia’s avoided the fate of becoming a vassal of Jerusalem and ending the hopes of an international resistance for now, but things will get tricky real quickly if Wilhelmina dies. At least it was fun to see Josiah get humiliated by Olga and Wilhelmina so hard.
On a brighter note, the rally itself was quite nice. It good that Wilhelmina inspired those exiles to speak out against the Committee’s crimes committed against their loved ones, making sure their voices and memories won‘t go away. I’m glad to see Torres again in that rally too, although it still makes me sad that Manfred got himself, Adrian and Arnold killed cause of his stubbornness.
Also, if you don’t mind me asking, but what is that song at the end based off of?
On a brighter note, the rally itself was quite nice. It good that Wilhelmina inspired those exiles to speak out against the Committee’s crimes committed against their loved ones, making sure their voices and memories won‘t go away. I’m glad to see Torres again in that rally too, although it still makes me sad that Manfred got himself, Adrian and Arnold killed cause of his stubbornness.
I think I have an idea of what you’re referencing here, even if Olga is laughing mentally and not out load like… whatever this is.
Also, if you don’t mind me asking, but what is that song at the end based off of?
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Yes.
Even if the majority is in favor of the deal, the majority does not mean everyone.
Was it ever really in doubt?
Did you really think I was going to forget the desk meme
About time.
...yeah.FUGE!!!!!!!
You'll see.
Because...reasons.
Guess it's time for little Friedrich to become the new face of the resistance...at the age of 5...
Sucks that Torres might never know what happened to Manfred, Adrian, and Arnold.
Yes, that was the reference.I think I have an idea of what you’re referencing here, even if Olga is laughing mentally and not out load like… whatever this is.
America the Beautiful.
Such a strong moment for Wilhelmina. I hope it isn't her last, and (assuming my hunch on what happened is accurate) that Wilhelm gets a chance to express exactly how he feels about this to Elias.
Regardless of what happens, Wilhelm Karl will not like this. At least in private.
The Deal, Part 4
The protesters screamed and scattered across the square. Wilhelmina blinked, realizing she had fallen off the podium. She was actually on the ground, having been pushed by…she looked up at Sophie, who had pushed her out of the way and taken the bullet meant for her. Blood seeped from her stomach.
“Sophie?” Wilhelmina said.
“My life…for the true Kaiser,” Sophie said, through gritted teeth.
She fell over. Wilhelmina got up and rushed to her side.
“Sophie!” she said.
Sophie looked at her wound. “I’ve been through worse. I’ll live.”
She patted Wilhelmina on the shoulder.
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Wilhelmina said.
“Don’t bother, it’s not a bad wound,” Sophie said, “I’ll handle it.”
“Don’t say that,” Wilhelmina said, taking out her phone.
Sophie got to her feet and looked around.
“I’m pretty sure you were the target,” she said, “Which means you should—duck!”
She grabbed Wilhelmina’s shoulders and pushed her down again just as another bullet whizzed through the air where her head was.
“Stay down!” Sophie said. “Basic logic when you’re the main target!”
“Okay, okay!” Wilhelmina said.
Gebhard, Izinchi, and Kresge had just arrived in the square. While Izinchi stayed at the wheel, Gebhard and Kresge got out, drawing their weapons.
“I see him!” Gebhard said. “Guy in black, over by that fountain!”
Kresge fired off two shots, but he missed the shooter. The shooter fired back, forcing Kresge to take cover behind a car.
“I can’t get a clear shot!” he said.
“Give me the gun, kid!” Gebhard said.
“You’re one to talk, I’m much older than you!” Kresge said.
“Just give me the damn gun!” Gebhard said.
Kresge tossed the gun to Gebhard, who spun around and fired three more shots. All missed.
“You didn’t do much better!” Kresge said.
“Patience,” Gebhard said.
As a result of the gunfire, the shooter emerged from his hiding place and started running. Seconds later, he ran right into the path of Izinchi’s car and was sent flying over the windshield.
“Gotcha,” Gebhard said.
Police officers quickly caught up and subdued him. Wilhelmina got back on her feet and approached the shooter.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sophie said.
“Ma’am, he’s dangerous,” Gebhard said.
“I have to see who would try to kill me,” Wilhelmina said.
Getting closer, she saw the shooter was a young man wearing standard Crusader tactical gear, most likely one of Josiah Burkard’s guards. The most damning pieces of evidence were his Jerusalem Cross badge and that always buzzing walkie-talkie on his kevlar vest.
“What is your name?” Wilhelmina said.
“Why should I tell you, false pretender?” the Crusader said.
“Why did you try to kill me?” Wilhelmina said.
“You are a false ruler, a heretic who seeks to lead the faithful astray,” the Crusader said, “It is my divinely ordained duty to send you to eternal punishment.”
So this was the power of the committee’s propaganda. This boy looked barely twenty. He would have been a child during Baudet’s kingmaker years and a teenager after Bloody Tuesday—the prime target of the 1105 Commission’s “patriotic education.” She was lucky Friedrich got out while he still could. She shuddered to imagine what a brainwashed prince or even Kaiser would be like.
“Did Josiah Burkard and the committee send you to kill me?” Wilhelmina said. “In response for derailing the trade talks?”
“What I did needed no orders from mortal men!” the Crusader said. “As a Holy Crusader, I answer only to the Lord Almighty. Where He commands, I follow!”
“So he didn’t order you,” Wilhelmina said.
“I am but a humble servant of Christ the Savior,” the Crusader said.
She was getting nowhere with her questions.
“You are a traitor!” the Crusader said. “To God and His Kingdom on Earth! Even if I fail today, justice will prevail in the end! His judgment shall be delivered! Deus vult! May His will be done, under His eye!”
“Take him away,” Wilhelmina said.
The police put him into a waiting car. Wilhelmina watched the car drive away, sirens blaring.
“They’re going to attack me no matter what I do,” she realized.
Over Europe
“For the last time, Elias, I didn’t order that hit!” Josiah said.
“He was literally in your protective detail!” Elias said. “And you wanted to send someone after her minutes before it happened!”
“The kid said he was acting on his own!” Josiah said. “I didn’t know he was gone until he was already shooting!”
“That’s not what everybody will see!” Elias said. “You said it yourself! Nobody cares for the truth anymore! Only the appearance! And the appearance is that WE ordered a hit on the ex-princess in retaliation for the talks failing! What message do you think that’s going to send the rest of the world?!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Josiah said.
“We are going to have a long talk when you return to Berlin,” Elias said, “And I told you, I want to do it myself!”
He hung up.
“Well, this day just keeps getting worse,” Josiah said.
Brandenburg Palace
A courier entered Wilhelm Karl’s office.
“Sir, I have news from Tsarberg, regarding your niece,” the courier said.
Finally, some news.
“What about her?” Wilhelm Karl said.
“Regrettably, she seems to have survived,” the courier said, “You will still have to contend with her claim to your rightful throne for the foreseeable future.”
Internally, Wilhelm Karl was relieved to hear that. But he couldn’t show any visible trace of that relief. To the committee and the world at large, he was supposed to be glad the only other claimant to the throne would have been dead and dismayed the plot didn’t go through. That was his script.
“I…I see,” Wilhelm Karl said, “May I ask who organized this scheme?”
He had to know who exactly ordered the hit so he could prevent future attempts on her life. If she died, it would be all over.
“Nobody knows,” the courier said, “Currently, it seems like one of our Crusaders took the initiative.”
A lone wolf, then. That made things more difficult.
“Then I…I…commend that pious Crusader’s…initiative,” Wilhelm Karl said, “Thank you for this news.”
He would have to withdraw Crusaders and as many other Jerusalem nationals from Russia as possible.
“Uh…dismissed,” Wilhelm Karl said.
The courier saluted. “God bless you! May He watch over you forever more and guard against the usurper Wilhelmina!”
The Winter Palace, Tsarberg
“Well, I didn’t expect everything to go in our favor,” Borislav said, “And here I thought we would be doing Berlin’s bidding by now.”
“Same with me,” Olga said.
“It was a miracle,” Borislav said, “That Wilhelmina really pulled it off.”
“I was surprised too,” Olga said, “I didn’t think she would step up.”
“But she did,” Borislav said.
“And I am forever in her debt for doing so,” Olga said, “Thanks to her, we have a chance of getting through this crisis.”
“What will you do now?” Borislav said.
“We’ll have to tighten sanctions on the Jerusalem regime,” Olga said, “Hopefully this incident has taught a lesson to the other Schengen members. We need to band together against our common enemy and not let ourselves be divided again. Containment of the Jerusalem regime and the restoration of the old Reich should be our greatest priority.”
“That sounds good and all, but I have a question,” Borislav said.
“Go ahead, shoot,” Olga said.
“This whole matter was because the Jerusalem regime proposed a trade deal that would effectively bind Russia to Jerusalem, economically and later diplomatically,” Borislav said, “I can’t help but wonder, isn’t this arrangement effectively similar to the old Schengen pact? Wasn’t Russia bound to the old Reich in the same way?”
“That was different,” Olga said, “At least the old Reich allowed us economic and diplomatic freedom as part of Schengen.”
“Need I remind you of the multiple bankruptcies your predecessors filed for?” Borislav said. “And the Roman bailouts every single time? We were economically dependent on the Reich for over forty years after the war.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Olga said, “Our standard of living increased, and we gradually recovered from the devastation of the Soviet regime and Varennikov’s war.”
“Didn’t our economists calculate our standard of living would increase from this deal too?” Borislav said. “And we would avert the famine that you’ve put Russia back on course to?”
“We’ll find another way,” Olga said, “We can pull Russia through this crisis. But we’ll do it without selling our souls to Jerusalem.”
“And then what?” Borislav said. “What happens after Jerusalem falls? What happens after the Reich is restored?”
“We’ll restore Schengen to what it once was,” Olga said, “To what it was supposed to be like. All members working together for a better future.”
“The old Schengen was effectively just Russia and the other members relying on free and open access to the Roman market,” Borislav said, “In exchange for accepting meritocratic reforms and Roman cultural exports. In a way, we became dependent on the Reich. We were basically their puppet for the last fifty years. We barely had a functioning economy independent of theirs!”
“The new Schengen…” Olga began.
But she didn’t know how to respond.
“A new Schengen under a restored Reich is pretty much what we were trying so desperately to avoid today,” Borislav said, “Isn’t it? So why did we put up so much effort to avoid Jerusalem but run back into the arms of the Reich?”
“Because Jerusalem isn’t the Reich!” Olga said. “The Reich would never do anything reprehensible like Jerusalem has!”
“On the contrary, they already have,” Borislav said, “Many times over, in many centuries. The deportations of the French and Poles and Arabs during the Crusades and Restoration. The persecution of pagans and heretics from the twelfth to seventeenth centuries. The Anarchy, which gave way to the Fifty Years’ War and the Commonwealth Wars. The Sunrise Invasion. The Maximist Wars and repression by both sides. The Angeloi. The suppression of equalism and moderate left-wing and civil rights movements as such during the Cold War. The machinations of the Sentinel cabal which killed or ruined the lives of innocent people, including that of the princess’ mother...and that of the woman you consider your own mother. The Reich always had a Jerusalem waiting in the wings. They’re two sides of the same coin. Jerusalem is the shadow, the true self.”
“That’s…not true,” Olga said.
But it was like every single boss fight in Persona 4. For example, Yukiko’s Shadow would always bring up Yukiko’s negative qualities and her innermost feelings and share them with the rest of the team. Yukiko would instinctively reject that as not her, not realizing that to deny her shadow was to give it strength. The Shadow would then attack, and Olga would destroy it. Most of the time, though, Olga was just waiting for Yukiko or the other victims to stop stalling and just reject the Shadow so the boss fight could begin and she could get her money and experience. Maybe she should replay it again.
“Because you grew up believing in the Reich that could be,” Borislav said, “You came of age during the war. You saw the terrors of the Soviet regime firsthand, and you latched on to the Reich as a symbol of fairness and tolerance. Would make sense you’d overlook its flaws. The Reich’s original sin was that it never truly was tolerant. It always prided itself on just LOOKING tolerant. Romans pat themselves on the back for Romanitas, without bothering to wonder just who was included in Romanitas. So intolerance and hatred of the excluded other never truly died out. Makes sense, given all of the cultural groups that went into the Reich, many of whom absolutely hated each other. Jerusalem simply took off the mask of Romanitas and revealed what truly lay underneath. This was always the Reich.”
“No, that can’t be true!” Olga said. “The Reich may have had its problems, but it would never turn to something like this! Not in this day and age! Not the regime that took down Markos Angelos and Valentin Varennikov! It couldn’t have happened! This isn’t the Reich! This isn’t what it is!”
She was still denying it, like Yukiko. As much as she knew it was true…she couldn’t accept it. Just like in the game. It was always hard to accept the truth. That was why the Shadow existed. Because Yukiko and the other victims kept screaming, "You're not me!"
“You’re ignoring the truth in front of you,” Borislav said, “The Reich turned into Jerusalem. That’s what it is now. The fact is, Jerusalem couldn’t have happened anywhere else.”
“What do you mean, it could definitely happen elsewhere!” Olga said. “Zhao and Han obviously are trying. And we’re lucky Chernomyrdin fell in the end.”
“Sure, a totalitarian regime could’ve arisen elsewhere,” Borislav said, “Maybe Han declares himself the second coming of Wang Jingwei. Maybe Viktor Petrov didn’t channel Cincinnatus and step down, instead becoming a horrible autocrat and war criminal. Maybe the Ragnarokers kept their old apocalyptic worldview and remilitarized Scandinavia. Maybe Modi rose to power in India and built a Hindu ethnostate. They would all be horrible regimes, but they would not be Jerusalem. The specific circumstances that led to Jerusalem, and the specific policies and worldview it has, can only come from the Reich. Not elsewhere. Only the Reich. The Romans made their bed, and now they have to lie in it. In denying that side of themselves, they only gave Jerusalem more power, until it finally emerged and took them over. Even if the Reich returns, it will still happen again if the Romans refuse to acknowledge their darkness. Jerusalem will simply return to the shadows, biding its time until it emerges again decades or centuries later.”
“So what are you trying to tell me?” Olga said. “Don’t restore the Reich? Don’t restore Schengen to what it was? Backstab the Reich after restoring it?”
“No,” Borislav said, “I am only asking you to be consistent. If you were to reject Jerusalem’s trade deal but embrace the old Schengen arrangement, I would call you a hypocrite. You made such a big deal of protecting Russia’s sovereignty today, but you’d just as gladly sign it away if the regime in Berlin isn’t as bloodthirsty anymore. And I said isn’t AS bloodthirsty, not NOT bloodthirsty at all.”
“I’ve always put the interests of the Russian people first,” Olga said, “That’s why I broke Petrov’s precedent and ran for a second term, because this crisis demanded it. I feel the next few years are going to shape Russia’s future, just like the 1980s did. And I’ll be damned if I’m not going to get us a good future.”
“At least be consistent about that,” Borislav said, “You need to walk the walk. When the time comes that you will negotiate a new arrangement within Schengen, you will have to put the interests of Russia first, as you claim to do. Will you embrace that which we desperately tried to avoid today, or will you find a way to keep the hard-won freedom we protected today?”
“I’ll find a way,” Olga said, “Like I always do.”
Suddenly, they heard a scream outside. Olga rushed to the window and saw a man’s body lying on the sidewalk. They ran outside and approached the body. A crowd had already gathered, speaking in hushed tones. Olga knelt before the body and observed it. She recognized his face. It was Shu Yangxi, who had run for chancellor in the last election. From the color of his skin and the lack of any visible stab or gunshot wounds, it looked like he had been poisoned.
“No way are we using the Tianyan system now,” Olga said, “And Aleta was just saying Han wasn’t blatantly murderous…”
UN Provisional Meeting Forum, Gunnolfsfell - May 16
The open-air forum was quiet. Dignitaries from all over the world were still filing in. Tsai fidgeted in her seat, casually scrolling through her news feed for updates from China. Everyone was talking about Shu. She had known Shu since their Tangwai days, and she still couldn’t believe he was dead. Fifty years later, it seemed the Tangwai generation which fought for democracy was now being hunted down by the same system they built. Han Xianyu was born after 1989. He never knew the horrors of the Guominjun, nor the struggle the Tangwai suffered through to bring them down. He was a man of privilege, not the common people as he claimed. He had the luxury of believing the pre-1989 years were a golden age, and he now had the means of remaking that era all over again…and silencing those who had lived through that era.
Suddenly, all of the idle chatter ceased. Tsai looked up from her phone. The other dignitaries had frozen in place, their faces full of shock and surprise. All were looking at the entrance to their forum. Tsai followed their gaze and saw a familiar woman had just walked in. Wilhelmina’s eyes lit up when she saw Tsai, and she immediately sat next to her.
“Long time no see,” she said.
“Wilhelmina,” Tsai said, “What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Wilhelmina said.
“Not really,” Tsai said, “You literally just walked in here. And you’re the last person I expected to see here.”
“To be fair, I also didn’t expect to come here until very recently,” Wilhelmina said, “And now I feel like I should have done this much sooner. Maybe if I didn’t back down thirty years ago, none of this would have happened.”
“I believe we can begin now,” Kahenta announced.
Everybody took their seats.
“Before we begin with the customary giving of thanks and today’s order of business, I’m sure you’ve all noticed our new arrival,” Kahenta said, “Lady Wilhelmina, would you like to introduce yourself?’
“Of course,” Wilhelmina said, “I, Princess Wilhelmina von Hohenzollern, am honored to serve my people as the Permanent Representative of the Roman Reich to the United Nations.”
---
That article is a real one about Putin talking about Sergei Skripal or another Russian dissident who left for overseas. The line at the end where Han said gender equality promotes homosexuality at a women’s rights conference was said by Erdogan at such a conference too, I think.
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On one hand I am very grateful that Wilhelmina was not shot but I still feel bad for Sophie. Hopefully the wound is not that bad like she clams it is.
This goes to show the power of propaganda. If people keep pedaling a certain narrative over time for political expediency more and more people will believe it and even when those same people try to change course those that they brainwashed will turn on them and clime that the brainwashers are no longer on their side. This has happened both in OTL and in TTL with predictable results.
I can imagine Wilhelm was talking to the courier through gritted teeth because on one hand he wants to be happy that Wilhelmina survived but has to play along like he douse not or else him and his family will be killed.
That was an interesting conversation between Olga and Borislav. On one hand I can agree with what he is saying in that throughout the Reich's history you had events that many Romans in the early 2000's might look at and think of them as isolated incidents by bad/corrupt people and that not only were the rest of the Romans good but that they at the time felt like they had transcended that type of attitude. But when you look at the big picture it has always been there hiding under the surface until the mask was able to come off again for potentially (depending on weather the Committee collapses or not) the last and final time.
I was going to say that this sounds like an event in OTL but I was not sure until I saw the Spoiler.
I do find it interesting that all of these so called "populist" leaders like Wilhelm and Han were born after the collapse of authoritarian regimes or conservative eras in power such as the "Red Scare" for Wilhelm and the Guominjun for Han and view them as a type of "Golden Age" although with Wilhelm I know he simply wanted to have absolute power and was not fascist like the Committee I still find it fascinating.
Thankfully this attack did not cause her to want to go back into hiding like I feared but has caused her to realize that as she said.
I’m glad that Wilhelmina and Sophie survived that assassination tempt and that Wilhelmina will continue stepping up as a leader, In addition to how Jerusalem will be further isolated thanks to that lone wolf’s actions. That said, I’m worried that this might give Jerusalem free reign to do even more terrible things without fear of scrutiny from the rest of the world. Futher than that, I fear Jerusalem being an obvious pariah will distract people from equally heinous atrocities from other menaces like Han and Zhao. On the bright side.
By the way Zen, since you bought up Persona 4 and Jungian shadows in the context of Jerusalem being the Reich’s shadow, I ended up remembering this video I watched awhile about the character Adachi even tho I didn’t play Persona 4 when I saw it. I’m curious to see what you think you’d think of this, seeing how it brings up Jungian shadows towards the end to make a comparison. I’ll put in a spoiler just in case.
On that note, since we mentioned before how Elias and Wilhelmina were born in the same generation, I wonder if there‘s an argument to be said that Elias is Wilhelmina’s shadow, something that Wilhelmina could’ve become had her life gone a different way. They both did lose people they loved thanks to Sentinel’s machinations after all. That might actual be another reason why Elias is so determined to kill Wilhelmina himself besides his grudge against the Reich and the Hohenzollerns, he sees where a better path he could‘ve ended up with if he wasn’t powerless and is bitter about it.
Like we discussed before, this will only get worse the longer Jerusalem lasts, to the point that the Reich may never truly recover from the Committee.
Yeah, looking at the Angeloi, Maximists and Inquisition as individual bad actors without looking at the circumstances that lead to them was probably what made the Committee’s takeover possible to begin with. As Boris said, while authoritarianism is possible anywhere, Jerusalem itself could only happen in the Reich. I know there is an epilogue in the Handmaid’s Tale where historians hold a convention discussing Gilead’s reign, but this reminds me of a video that Hello Future Me did for ATLA, where a hypothetical in universe history class talked about the circumstances that eventually lead to Fire Nation Imperialism, I could see post Jerusalem histrionias talking about Roman history in a manner simlar to this.
You could also apply that to Elias and the rest of the Commitee as well, who don’t remember the Angeloi and barely remember the Soviets’ oppression of the Occupied Territories, so they do smilar things to what to what those regimes did to the Reich. On the flip side, you have Zhao who does remember the crimes of the Junta, but was still bought into a nationalistic lie of the Junta’s rule being a golden age for China. In some ways he’s worse than the other dictators today who didn’t‘t live through authoritarian terror.
By the way Zen, since you bought up Persona 4 and Jungian shadows in the context of Jerusalem being the Reich’s shadow, I ended up remembering this video I watched awhile about the character Adachi even tho I didn’t play Persona 4 when I saw it. I’m curious to see what you think you’d think of this, seeing how it brings up Jungian shadows towards the end to make a comparison. I’ll put in a spoiler just in case.
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Quite relieved it was Sophie, and all the better that she's okay. Wilhelmina sounding truly ready at the end is just hype.