East Thervingia
East Thervingia is a small land-locked country that shares borders with Ukraine and Moldova.
Inhabited by the Thervingians, a proud warlike people, East Thervingia has resisted many invasions; including by the Macedonians, Romans, Goths, Huns, Avars, Bulgarians, Magyars, Pechenegs, Cumans, Mongols, Ottomans, Tatars, and Russians.
The label, "Thervingian", is actually a misnomer dating from the days of the ancient Roman Empire. The Thervingians are actually related to the Carpians, Costoboci, Dacians, Sarmatians, Slavs, and Thracians- and not the later Gothic peoples that came from the plains north of the Lower Danube.
Inside an old tattered tent, Blegi Dicomes (better known as Berig) is sitting cross-legged on the floor, patiently listening to his officers' briefing.
Speaking East Thervingian, one of his officers, Duras Komozoi, is saying, "... The Regime's forces fortified in Zisnudeva will be a tough nut to crack."
Berig asks, "Why? How many strategic weapons do they have? How many superbeings?"
Superheroes, like other superbeings, are considered strategic resources. This being said, the most powerful superheroes are a greater deterrence than even nuclear weapons. While a nuclear weapon can do more collateral damage than most heroes, it is almost impossible to target and hit the most powerful heroes with a nuclear missile. This is not even considering that nuclear weapons are completely ineffective against certain heroes, such as Solar Flare and Golden Star- who are rumored to bathe in the heart of the Sun.
The US government makes full use of their superheroes. To avoid any outcry of public opinion (and potential loss of superpowers), these superheroes often go incognito with different outfits, masks, and voice synthesizers.
The US government has to pay handsomely, but it's worth it. Masked superheroes have a long tradition of enforcing American imperialism... err exceptionalism in the Americas, Oceania, and parts of Europe.
As for other parts of the world...
Other parts of Europe are occupied by wizards, werewolves, vampires, and all sorts of fantastical or mystical beings. Any uppity superhero, misbehaving alone, would have a really bad time there.
Asia is zealously protected by cultivators and mystic traditions that revere Arhats, Bodhisattvas, and Devas. While these schools of thought and traditions usually ignore both the mundane world and the mortals who inhabit it, for some reason they aggressively respond to any superhero incursion into their "lands". Some scholars theorized their hyper-aggressive response is due, in part, to superbeings being a corruption of the natural order.
The Arctic and Antarctica have logistic issues and minimal resources for nations to contest. That said, battles between superbeings there are not completely unknown there.
Africa, however, is considered a frontier for exploitation... umm trade deals.
Conflict has arisen there as incognito superheroes battle supernatural and mystically empowered individuals at the behest of their corporate or government sponsors/overlords. Even individuals from "detached traditions", such as rogue "qi-refining" and "foundation establishment" cultivators, would occasionally get in on the act.
Duras replies to Berig's question, "Not only do they have artillery, heavy cavalry, and massed infantry, they also have a mage."
"A mage?!?" Berig asks with a hint of panic in his voice, "How strong? What circle?"
"I don't know." Duras honestly answers as he shrugs his shoulders, "Our scouts didn't probe."
Berig begins cracking his knuckles.
One of the other men in the tent, Aizus Vezina, mutters, "Why are you so concerned about a single mage? You massacred a squad of them months ago."
Berig stares at Aizus before slowly replying, "You are all trusted men. So I will tell you... Americans are fickle. Because of that... I am not as strong as I was months ago."
There was tumult in the tent as the officers began clamoring and talking over each other. Words such as, "maybe we can buy more TV ads" mix with, "we're doomed!", and "I knew this was a bad idea."
"Enough!" Berig shouts, "Enough! I will *never* give up! Not so long as a single breath remains in my body."
An old man, Cothelas Moskon, says, "My lord. May I make a suggestion?"
Berig waves his hands and gives his assent, "Go ahead."
Cothelas says, "Your weakening is related to your popularity in the US, yes? We can take *actions* to increase the popularity of our cause, and your popularity in particular."
-----
Bridgewater, New Amsterdam.
"Oh! Mrs. Fluffy. Where are you?!? It's dinner time. Oh! Where have you gone?!? Oh! Mrs. Fluffy." a 70 year-old lady, Ann Meyers, distraughtly walks the streets calling out to her missing cat.
Within hearing distance, Redd is hiding as he holds a knocked out Maine Coon- Mrs. Fluffy.
"Ring." Redd hisses, "Is this really necessary?"
The Ring of Murkem replies, "I don't make the rules. Time is like a river. It takes energy to go against the flow. The farther upstream you wish to travel, the more energy you'll need."
"Yes. But." Redd struggles to find his words, "That lady looks devastated."
The Ring of Murkem says, "You wanted to find the closest sacrifice, the closest *non-human* sacrifice, that would yield the most energy. That is the cat you hold."
Redd mutters to himself, "I didn't think animals had souls."
The Ring of Murkem responds, "Sacrifices, Master. Sacrifices."
-----
In the Dark Triumvirate's castle on the Unreal World of Orgrift, Evilgore brags, "As expected, I have succeeded! Now no one can stop us from ushering in a new dark age! The Age of the Dark Triumvirate!"
"Congratulations." Night Invader says, "This will accelerate the next phase of our plan."
Evilgore quizzily raises an eyebrow, "Next phase?"
Darkhold clears his throat and explains, "We have to strengthen our tenuous connections to "Earth". This means securing a reliable source of pods and seizing control of the Unicorn corporation. After all, we can't expect the Quantum-Shifter to miraculously fall into our hands. And the last thing we want is for that world's authorities to…"
"Enough!" Evilgore interrupts, "I get it! Just tell me who or what to kill."
Darkhold chafes at the interruption, "Listen you dullard…"
Playing peacemaker, Night Invader changes the subject, "One of my cults, the 'Embrace of the Night' has served its purpose. Those that did not willingly go into the Night's Embrace need to be sent there. Do you understand?"
"Speak clearly!" Evilgore commands.
Night Invaders sighs and says with finality, "It's time to tie up some loose ends."
-----
Boston, Massachusetts.
Kyle Rolouzis is a radicalized Thervingian.
Radicalization (or radicalisation) is the process by which an individual or group comes to adopt increasingly radical views in opposition to a political, social, or religious status quo. The ideas of society at large shape the outcomes of radicalization; for example, radical movements can originate from a broad social consensus against progressive changes in society or from a broad desire for change in society.
Radicalization can result in both violent and nonviolent action.
Examples of violent radicals include Jihadists- who are motivated to "defend Islam" and right-wing terrorists- who are motivated by a variety of different right-wing/far-right ideologies: most prominently neo-fascism, neo-Nazism, white nationalism, anti-immigration, and to a lesser extant "Patriot"/Sovereign citizen beliefs and anti-abortion sentiment.
Radicalization that occurs across multiple reinforcing pathways, such as biased "News"/propaganda sites, "churches", college clubs, YouTube videos, and social media platforms greatly increases a group's resilience and lethality.
Furthermore, by compromising a group's ability to blend in with non-radical society and to participate in a modern, national or international economy, radicalization serves as a kind of sociological trap that gives individuals no other place to go to satisfy their material and spiritual needs.
Thanks to the Internet, various radical nationalist and religious ideologies enjoy a global reach.
This reach has even extended into American homes as Kyle Rolouzis, a 4th generation Thervingia-American, has been radicalised to the point of wanting to fight for East Thervingia in "reclaiming the lost lands" of West Thervingia.
Kyle has even made direct online contact with the likes of "Decebalus Diegis", a vocal warhawk and the Secretary of War… umm Defense in the East Thervingia Regime.
Skeptical of contacting someone as illustrious as a cabinet minister, Kyle even did a quick google search to confirm that Decebalus Diegis is, indeed, listed as the East Thervingian Secretary of Defense.
On the online chat software, Decebalus Diegis is saying, "... and so you see my young friend, more drastic action is needed. The West's constant unwavering, unwarranted support of Moldova is our biggest obstacle to reunification.
Kyle replies, "Won't it backfire? I mean the 9/11 attacks painted a huge target on the Muslim Jihadists."
Decebalus scoffs, "That's only because the United States wanted oil and because younger Bush wanted revenge for his father's attempted assassination. Think about it. Why else would the US attack Iraq and not Saudi Arabia, who had connections to the attack."
Kyle inquires, "Connections?"
Decebalus answers in the affirmative, "Yes. Connections. At least two members of the Saudi royal family were involved in the planning. Of the 19 hijackers, 15 of them were Saudi citizens. Bin Laden, himself, was a rich Saudi."
"I don't know…" Kyle begins to say.
"Young friend," Decebalus interrupts, "you might be thinking that terrorism doesn't acheive it's political goals. That is a misconception. Zionist terrorist groups, such as the Irgun, Lehi, Haganah and the Palmach, were instrumental in the formation of Isreal. The Northern Ireland terrorists, who waged a guerrilla campaign against British security forces, forced the British to sign the Good Friday agreement- which allowed power sharing in that territory."
Kyle, convinced, asks "Ok. What do I have to do?"
In a dungy room inside an East Thervingian hotel, Cothelas Moskon, who is logged onto his Decebalus account, smiles.
-----
Mid Afternoon. Paragon Island, North Atlantic Ocean.
Teams of construction crews busily work erecting permanent buildings on Paragon Island.
One of the workers bitches, "It was much more chill when Silver Star wasn't around. I haven't even taken my lunch break yet."
Another worker warns his friend, "Shhh... Don't let him hear you."
"Hear what?" a flying Silver Star asks as he slowly descends while holding a half-eaten sandwich.
Making eye contact with the first worker, Silver Star takes another bite of the sandwich.
The first worker's stomach growls as he turns away and continues to work in frustration.
"You know." Jake Laki Valtadoros says, "You really should stop picking on them."
Changing the subject, Silver Star asks, "You have something to report?"
"Ya." Jake responds as he looks around, "Let's talk in private."
The pair walks away from the workers.
Jake scans the surroundings. After verifying that no one is around, he says, "More people died in the structure."
"Hmm..." Silver Star nods noncommittally.
Jake continues, "We need to send in some supers, but I don't know anyone who would willingly walk right into a death trap."
"Don't worry about it." Silver Star replies, "I'm sure the higher ups have a list of candidates."
-----
Night. Upstate New Amsterdam State.
Around a half-completed Black Pyramid, a group of vampires, thralls, and minions chat during one of their breaks.
A vampire is commenting, "... speaking of MLMs, have you noticed that vampirism is a pyramid scheme?"
"No. What do you mean?" another vampire asks.
The first vampire responses, "You are bound in eternal servitude to your sire, but! You, in turn, can sire fledglings who are compelled to eternally serve you. That's the very definition of a pyramid scheme!"
The second vampire laughs, "In exchange for eternal servitude to your sire, you..."
"Excuse me!" Birdy Tsun interrupts the chatting vampires, "The Empress has orders."
Both vampires stop their conversation and turn to look at Birdy.
Birdy continues, "You are to scout out New Amsterdam City. Keep a low profile and pay special attention to any movements from the Factor."
"Wait. Why us? And why?" the second vampire asks.
The first vampire hazards a guess, "Probably revenge. Or the lords are unwilling to easily give up prime feeding ground. Am I right?"
"Beats me." Birdy Tsun replies, "I'm just a Birdy."
-----
Meanwhile at Bridgewater, New Amsterdam State.
"Do we really have to do this?" Redd asks.
"Yessss." the Ring says, "Yes."
"Fine." So saying that, Redd tosses the mutilated body of Mrs. Fluffy onto Ann Meyer's yard before making a quick getaway.
The motion sensor lights click on, but Ann, who is fitfully dreaming of her cat, does not come out. After a while, the lights click off.
It was only the next morning that Ann Meyer's screams echoed throughout the neighborhood.
-----
Boston, Massachusetts.
Kyle Rolouzis is nervous.
Under guidance from Cothelas posing as Decebalus, Kyle is attending a Black Metal concert wearing a T-shirt with the flag of East Thervingia displayed prominently on the chest.
Black metal is an extreme subgenre of heavy metal music. Common traits include fast tempos, a shrieking vocal style, heavily distorted guitars played with tremolo picking, raw (lo-fi) recording, unconventional song structures, and an emphasis on atmosphere. Black metal artists often appear in corpse paint and adopt pseudonyms.
Way outside of his element, Kyle cringes as the audience chants the band's name, "DarkGhost. DarkGhost. DarkGhost."
The audience cheers as the band begins playing their songs.
His ears ringing, Kyle starts heading toward a place where the sound is balanced from both sides; roughly midway between left and right sound boxes.
Suddenly, the song is getting fast, and a surge of people rushes toward the front of the stage.
"No..." Kyle attempts to resist, but finds himself being pushed into a mosh pit.
Kyle trips. And just when his life begins to flash before his eyes, strong hands pick him up.
Someone shouts, "Kyle?"
Kyle turns to look.
There is a young adult wearing a metal T-shirt design with the flag of East Thervingian nearby.
The young adult shouts, "Let's go."
Nodding, Kyle and the young adult make their way out of the mosh pit.
Ignoring all of the people headbanging and talking part in walls of death, Kyle and the youth make their way to the lobby.
There, amidst all of the band's merchandise, Kyle establishes contact with the US branch of the Thervingian Liberation Front.