Several months had passed, The New World Order was still in chaos, trapped in their hemisphere.
"Lord Rothschild, all our attempts to restore power have officially failed. Astronomers now in the factories say it was a "Carrington Event". We do have a good side in all this chaos."
"That is what, Rockefeller?"
"The American who ripped off that arm, is in the same boat as we are."
The two shared a demonic laugh, but couldn't be farther from the truth. Greater Ottawa may have gone through the same event, but had twelve hours to prepare. The city was actively trying to piece their lives back together. For at the crack of dawn, the clang of iron spikes woke them up as father and son were finishing their project.
"Seventeen left."
The thud followed by the driving of rail-spikes was how the Ghost and his father spent their mornings. At first, this seemingly mundane exercise had no real benefit for the Ottawans. That was until this morning. As the Ghost drave the last spike into the ground, a singular red hot spark of gunpowder began making its way back towards a parked steam engine. The Ghost tossed his hammer and ran into the train. He turned several mechanical-driven knobs. The boiler pushed steam into the piston's chamber. Once the gunpowder reached the seized chamber, it exploded lightly, but with enough force to get the piston to begin hammering back and forth. The Ghost pulled the whistle string as this relic, lost within one of my American bygone eras, steamed out of its grave and began its journey.
"Where are you going?!" Called out Scott.
"I'm off to see/take a piece of this frontier! Better known as the whole wide world!" The Ghost laughed. "I'm going to get Keith!!"
"ALONE!?!"
"NOPE!" The Ghost pointed up. Three Ottawan Biplanes were keeping pace with him.
As he vanished from eye sight, the Ghost began the long train ride to what remained of the Confederation of the Texan Republic. Keith and his people had done the best they could, but there were plenty of key infrastructure that took direct hits. Most of their transportation had been modernized and the relics stuffed in dusty museums, which the Greater Ottawans eventually traded for their OIPCS-IV armor.
As he shoveled coal into the boiler, he began to think of his fight with Rothschild. The sheer amount of overwhelming rage was far greater than he'd expected. The amount of blood he was willing to spill was far greater than any length he'd been willing to go, even in his time with the US Army. He knew there was to be a final showdown between the tyrant and himself, but if he was going to be the one to restore peace, he'd do it on his terms. As he passed the switch rail, the train picked up speed. It was a twenty hour hike to Dallas and that wasn't even the full trip. Paige and Morgan had joined him on the journey to get Keith. Together, they had three territories to bring into the fold. The first was the Sovereign Territories of Florida. The S.T.F was a type of coalition, to say the least, but it was functionally better than the second group.
While Greater Ottawa held a monopoly on the Midwest, they had collectively agreed, Chicago was off limits to all the factions. The Anarchical Commonwealth of Chicago or A.C.C, was just as violent as it sounded. While Chicago had been severely crippled by the early missile strikes D.C had launched, the city of 2.7 million people watched as city hall, the police stations, and any form of protective authority was wiped out. Medical teams and fire fighters became overwhelmed as anarchy gripped the city. Those who got out, joined up with Greater Ottawa or the other two factions. Finally the third territory was the Liberal Democracy of the Greater Northeast. Maine had emerged onto their radar before the Carrington Event, but they never had the opportunity to make contact with them. The only known thing about them was a single radio broadcast they played across the American Factional Regions. It sounded like a paradise, but as learned, utopia's are often not all they're hyped up to be.
The Ghost closed the boiler's hatch before handing the shovel back to the conductor and headed into the "Diplomacy Car". As he sat down, he looked over the various documents the Greater Ottawan Intelligence Agency had compiled for him. He took his glasses off and shook his head. There, amidst the folders, was a file with his name on it. As he opened it, photographs and documents of his psychosis incident could be seen.
The file's main document read: "Subject: The Ghost of Ottawa; Uncontrollable Rage-Induced Psychosis: As several mental evaluation shows, the Ghost of Ottawa, leader of Greater Ottawa, post-event has shown signs of mental decay. The death of [Redacted] and the new drug known as "Combination X" resulted in the Ghost ripping apart two New World Order, tearing off Rothschild's arm, and injuring several Greater Ottawa soldiers. Will monitor and document progress. Update: Several months have passed, the Ghost is showing mental progression, (signs of healing), and has let go of the death, and even admitted to releasing a volume of anger he'd been carrying towards his mother. The Ghost is fit to return to full duty and responsibilities. No further updates to follow."
He closed his eyes to rest as the sun dipped below the horizon. He slipped into a dream, standing alone on a crimson sand beach.
"Why are you letting go?"
The Ghost looked around, trying to find the voice. It kept saying that same phrase over and over again until he looked into the water to find not his reflection, but an image of his anger, him covered head to toe in blood.
"Why must you forgive them?"
The screeching of train wheels awakened the Ghost as a GOB Soldier opened the door.
"Sir, we've arrived in Dallas."
"Excellent. Refill the water and keep the piston lubricated. I'll help Keith load up his stuff."
As the Surviving Republic of Texas delegates began loading their troops and supplies onto the train, Keith met the Ghost on the platform.
"Sorry about the lack of light around here, partner. Welcome back to Texas."
"More like all-aboard. We've got a long trip ahead of us." The Ghost laughed and shook Keith's hand. Keith nodded and watched the Ghost.
"Are you sure you're alright for a long trip like this?" Keith's eyes were soft, but they met by the Ghost's eyes of perseverance.
"Everything you may have heard about my incident... Leave on this platform. We have work to do." Keith watched the Ghost grab his bags. As he climbed the steps into the train, the Ghost paused on the top step looking at the Texan leader. "Do remind yourself of this fact. When Rothschild does come looking to pick a fight, I will not hesitate to kill him quickly. I will not make the same mistake I did in the last fight."
With the loud whistle of the locomotive, the four major American faction leaders steamed across the South, all eager and ready to begin the long trip.