The Empire was rotting from the inside.
Not from weakness.
From fear.
Inside the capital—
Paranoia had taken root.
Spies questioned spies.
Reports contradicted each other.
Trusted names disappeared overnight.
And at the center of it all—
Sat the throne.
The Queen stood beside it.
Unmoving.
Watching.
General Lysandra stood just behind her—silent, composed, eyes scanning every shadow in the room.
She did not leave the Queen's side anymore.
Not after what happened to General Veynor.
"He was ambitious, yes," the Queen said calmly.
Her voice carried across the war chamber like a blade.
"…but he did not deserve to die like that."
The King sat forward in his chair.
Listening.
Absorbing.
"Assassinated," she continued softly, "by the hands of the so-called Rebel Nations."
A term she had created.
A narrative she had seeded.
And now—
It was law.
The King nodded slowly.
His expression twisted somewhere between anger and self-importance.
"But he was right about one thing," the Queen continued.
"We must reclaim what was lost."
Her tone shifted.
Warmer.
Guiding.
"Dissent breeds disorder."
"Disorder breeds chaos."
"And chaos…"
She let the word hang.
"…invites the return of the Chaos God."
That landed exactly how she intended.
The King leaned forward.
Hooked.
"Yes…"
"…yes, of course."
He ran a hand through his thinning hair, completely unaware of how ridiculous he looked.
"We must act."
The generals remained silent.
Watching.
Waiting.
Because this wasn't a meeting.
It was a performance.
And the Queen—
Was the director.
"They mock you," she said softly.
"They defy your rule."
"They refuse your taxes."
"They build alliances with monsters."
Each sentence sharper than the last.
"They believe you are weak."
The King's grip tightened.
"…I am not weak."
"No," she agreed immediately.
"You are not."
A beat.
"So what do you suggest, my King?"
He hesitated.
Just long enough.
That's when she turned slightly.
A subtle nod.
Permission.
General Korvin stepped forward.
Calm.
Precise.
Deadly.
"Our intelligence suggests this rebellion centers around a handful of key regions."
He gestured to a map.
"If we strike multiple locations simultaneously…"
"…we can break their coordination."
The King nodded.
"Yes… yes."
"Do we take the cities back?"
Korvin didn't answer.
The Queen did.
"We do not take them."
Silence.
"We erase them."
Every general in the room went still.
"No survivors."
"No escape."
"No hope."
Her eyes gleamed faintly.
"We do not reclaim land."
"We remove the idea of rebellion."
The King blinked.
Then—
Slowly—
He began to understand.
"They think I won't do it…"
The Queen smiled.
"And that is why you must."
The King stood suddenly.
Chair scraping loudly behind him.
His chest puffed out.
Confidence swelling.
Delusion rising.
"Then we do more."
The room stilled again.
"Not three cities."
He raised a hand dramatically.
"Five."
That surprised even the generals.
But no one argued.
"We will wipe them out."
"Every last one."
His voice grew louder.
More erratic.
"They will beg for mercy."
"They will thank me for sparing them."
"They will worship me."
The Queen watched.
Satisfied.
The generals?
They watched something else.
Opportunity.
"Operation: Rebel Annihilation will begin immediately," Korvin stated.
The King grinned.
"Yes."
"Good."
He turned toward the door.
Already imagining victory.
"I want results within one month."
A general spoke carefully.
"…My King, coordinating five simultaneous attacks—"
"Thirty days."
The King didn't even turn around.
"Make it happen."
The doors closed behind him.
Silence followed.
Then—
Exhaustion.
The generals sat.
"…Can we even do that?" one asked.
Korvin leaned back slightly.
Thinking.
Calculating.
"We can."
That got their attention.
"If we choose the right targets."
He tapped the map.
"Five strongholds would stretch us too thin."
Another general frowned.
"…Then what?"
Korvin's voice didn't change.
"We don't hit strongholds."
A pause.
"We hit the weak."
Understanding spread quickly.
Villages.
Outposts.
Small settlements.
Easy victories.
"Victory is victory to the King," Korvin continued.
"He doesn't care what burns."
The Queen stepped forward.
"The King needs a win."
Her voice was colder now.
More honest.
"Give him one."
Even if it meant nothing strategically.
Even if it changed nothing.
Because perception—
Was power.
Plans began forming.
Targets selected.
Timelines adjusted.
War—
Was no longer coming.
It had already begun.
Somewhere Else…
Far from the capital.
Far from the throne.
A shadow shifted.
Small.
Silent.
Watching.
Yurina crouched in the rafters, her fox-like eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
The device pulsed softly beside her.
A creation of Jax…
Enhanced by his secret Scientist partner.
Every word.
Every plan.
Every target—
Recorded.
Her lips curled slightly.
"…Well."
This just got interesting.
She vanished into the shadows.
Already planning her next move.
Because the United Kingdoms—
Needed to know.
And fast.