EMPIRE: CAPITAL CITY
[HIGH-RANKING OFFICIALS ASSEMBLY]
In a grand chamber filled with tapestries of conquest and polished marble floors, the air was thick with tension.
High-ranking officials, generals, and nobles were seated around an ornately carved table.
The weight of the Empire's future rested heavily on their shoulders, and the mood was as dark as the black banners draped across the walls in mourning.
The assassination of the Emperor and Empress loomed over them, a shadow that no one could ignore.
"Let us begin," Chouri, the former Prime Minister, said as he adjusted his military-style uniform.
His winter coat draped over his shoulders lent him an air of gravitas, though the growing weariness in his eyes betrayed the weight he carried.
Chouri's words opened the floor for debate, but the officials exchanged only wary glances at first.
Whispers of suspicion rippled through the room, some aimed at each other, but most directed at Honest, the Empire's new Prime Minister.
Sitting at the table's center, Honest seemed unbothered by the tension.
His stout frame filled the chair as he reclined lazily, devouring a slice of cake with a gluttonous grin.
His dark green outfit, adorned with fur around the neck, contrasted with the solemnity of the gathering.
Chouri's voice broke the silence. "The assassination of the Emperor and Empress has destabilized the Empire. The people are scared, protests are erupting, and unrest is brewing in the cities. We must act quickly to ensure order before chaos consumes us."
Honest chuckled softly, still chewing. "Calm yourself, Chouri. The Empire is fine. We're in complete control."
Chouri's jaw tightened, but he resisted the urge to lash out. "Control? Do you call this control? The economy is spiraling, merchants are pulling their investments, and protests are spreading like wildfire. The people demand answers, and instead of addressing their concerns, you send the army to silence them."
Honest grinned, his teeth visible through a mouthful of food. "Subjugation, Chouri. A little fear goes a long way."
"Subjugation?" Chouri's voice rose, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the table. "That's not subjugation, it's butchery! Executing citizens in the streets? Hanging heads as warnings? You're pushing the people to rebellion!"
"Spare me the theatrics," Honest said, wiping his hands on a napkin. "The rabble needs to understand their place. A firm hand keeps them in line. And as for rebellion…" His grin widened. "Let them try."
Chouri's frustration boiled over. "This is madness! You're turning the Empire into a slaughterhouse. People don't need fear, they need stability. They need leadership!"
"Leadership?" Honest laughed, his voice dripping with mockery. "The only leadership these insects understand is the kind delivered by the blade. And speaking of leadership…" His tone grew colder. "The Emperor is fine where he is. A child doesn't need to waste his time in meetings."
Chouri slammed his fist on the table, making several nobles jump. "It is the duty of the Prime Minister to teach the Emperor! To prepare him to rule! But instead, you've isolated him, twisted him into your puppet. What are you planning, Honest?"
Honest's grin remained unchanged. "I'm planning to ensure the Empire's survival. And it's succeeding. Order will be restored soon enough. The rabble will fall in line, and those who don't…"
He shrugged, reaching for another piece of meat. "Well, they won't be a problem anymore."
Chouri's face flushed with anger. Blood seeped from his clenched fists, hidden under the table. "Your methods will destroy this Empire," he said through gritted teeth. "Fear cannot build a nation, it only tears it apart."
Honest leaned back in his chair, feigning disinterest. "Your sentimentality is quaint, Chouri. But it's also outdated. I'll handle this my way. And this meeting is over."
With that, Honest pushed his chair back and stood, brushing crumbs from his coat. He burped loudly, then turned toward the exit, his grin as smug as ever.
"Do not bring this matter up again," he said over his shoulder. "I have more pressing matters to attend to."
Chouri watched as Honest strolled out of the chamber, his entourage of sycophants trailing behind him. The room fell silent, the officials too afraid, or too complicit, to speak up.
The former Prime Minister slumped back in his chair, his shoulders heavy with despair. He gazed at the ornate ceiling, his thoughts spiraling.
This Empire is on the brink of ruin, he thought bitterly. The people are terrified, the nobility is complicit, and the man in power sees the populace as nothing more than cattle to be slaughtered.
His gaze drifted to the empty seat meant for the Emperor. And that poor child… what future awaits him, trapped in Honest's grasp?
The assembly dispersed slowly, the officials whispering among themselves as they left.
Chouri remained seated, staring at the table, lost in thought. Blood from his fists had stained the polished wood.
"Who will save the Empire now?" he whispered to himself, his voice hollow.
---
THE AFTERMATH
Outside the palace, the streets of the capital were a storm of unrest. Protesters clashed with guards, their cries for justice drowned out by the sound of steel and bloodshed.
The citizens who once revered the Emperor now questioned the very foundation of their nation.
And in the shadows, unseen forces watched, waiting for the moment to strike.
The Empire stood on the precipice of chaos, its future uncertain. Honest's grip tightened, and with every passing day, the line between order and tyranny blurred further.