November 15th, 1939 – Volkshalle, Valoria.
The strategy chamber within Volkshalle buzzed with muted activity as aides hurriedly passed documents and whispered updates into each other's ears. Alexander sat at the head of the long, polished table, his ever-present mask reflecting the soft glow of the overhead light. Julieanne, seated to his right, scanned the latest reports from Ruthenia, her sharp eyes missing nothing. She adjusted her glasses before speaking.
"Your Excellency," she began, her tone steady, "the situation in Ruthenia is worsening by the hour. Reports indicate that revolutionary factions are uniting under a loose coalition. The Tsar's forces are stretched thin, and key cities are slipping out of his control."
Alexander leaned back in his chair, his gloved fingers steepled. "And how has the rest of Europe responded?"
