Columns of smoke billowed from the burnt, ashen remains of the Bumblebee capital city as cries of victory from the invaders echoed up to the capitol castle and an unlucky few were assigned to douse the flames. Inferno leaned on the balcony, overlooking the carnage he'd helped to inflict. The soft click of military boots alerted him to another's presence; when he turned around, Vulpix was standing there, in his hands were two glasses of the finest champagne.

"A glass, my friend?"

Inferno took the glass, raised it, and took a sip.

"Celtic's got a bit of a drinking problem, hasn't he?"

Vulpix laughed, sipping the glass before placing it on the smooth handrail. "I suppose. We all have our faults."

They stopped, turning their attention to the smoky horizon and the vast graveyard outside the city walls where the battle occurred. The general wiped his nails on his uniform before speaking again.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

The king shrugged and returned to gazing down at the ever-present fires in the former mercantile district. Vulpix studied him intensely while Inferno tried to avoid his gaze.

"You feel guilty, don't you?"

Inferno sighed, leaning on the balcony railing dazedly. "It's not what I feel. It's what I don't feel. I don't feel guilty. I know I should, thousands of people died on my orders, on their side and mine. And yet, I don't. I feel…"

He paused uncomfortably. Vulpix met his gaze, prompting him to go on.

"I feel powerful."

Vulpix smirked triumphantly and leaned on the wall, earning him a scornful glance from Inferno.

"And thus, it comes forth. See, you've been an altruistic, yet shrewd ruler for most of your reign. You played the game of intrigue as necessary, but you avoided war. You kept your nation out of the Shipping Wars and prevented yourself from sinking into tyranny and harsh discipline during times of internal strife. But you've been lying to yourself. You wanted to that feel power, but you realized what that would do. So you deceived everyone, and you did such a good job at it that you managed to fool even yourself. When Celtic asked you to join, you didn't join because you had to. You joined because you wanted to, but you would never admit it. You wanted more power, more influence. You've restrained yourself for damn near your entire life. We can't have restraint. We can't have anything holding us back."

The general advanced to Inferno's side, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Inferno sighed.

"You're right. I can't deny myself anymore." He paused. "Thank you."

Vulpix nodded. "Anything to help an ally."

They smiled and gazed over the landscape below.

"If I may ask," said Inferno, "why did you agree to help Celtic?"

The general leaned back. "I think we both know the Third Shipping War went… poorly for Arkos. Our nation was left in shambles; our people in the grip of poverty, much like Emberald. Our crops were burned, and our military was all but annihilated. We survived, but our power, our influence, they were lost."

"Our neighbor to the northwest, Nuts and Dolts, was in a similar state, ravaged by a war merely because they were unlucky enough to be in the center of the Subreddit. Both our governments were in shambles, so we formed a military council, five generals from each country. Stabilizing our governments was just the first step, but we soon discovered another obstacle. We still had valuable lands to our name, and the eyes of the Mod Council slowly but surely began to turn in our direction. Our demise was inevitable. We resigned ourselves to the plundering that was to come."

"Into our midst came our savior, the exiled lord of Night's Watch, with the leader of the Emberist movement. He offered us a pact: he would lend us his military support and in return, we would join his conspiracy and accept him as their king. I was the only one who accepted. The others met an… unfortunate fate for their hubris."

"I fight for my nation. You fight for power. It doesn't matter, as long as you fight until the end."

Inferno took another gulp from his glass of wine, considering his colleague's words carefully as they both stared, entranced, into the dark of the early morning.

"My friends, my friends!" Celtic's voice rang out behind them, startling them as Celtic entered, laughing jovially. Yukon, Greatness and Jokey followed close behind him, in various stages of inebriation. "Must you exile yourselves to the balcony? Come, join us inside!"

Yukon's mask was lifted up just above his mouth, allowing him to drink. He took a swig from the wine bottle he held, drops of alcohol adhering to the charred skin around his lips before he passed the bottle to Celtic, who also took a large gulp.

"Unless you'd like to stay out here and-" He snickered. "-bond some more." The four laughed lightheartedly as Inferno scowled and Vulpix averted his gaze.

"I kid, of course. Please, come inside, the wine is in here."

The group walked inside the perpetually pristine Capitol Castle. Unlike most of the structures below them, the building was left virtually untouched after its defenders surrendered. Celtic plopped down on the soft velvet padding of the throne while his fellows gathered around, not noticing the body of the former queen being carried away to be properly buried.

"Where's Maker? I haven't seen her since we took this building."

Greatness cast a few cursory glances around the throne room to illustrate his point, while Inferno scoffed. "What would she add to the conversation? I've not heard her say anything of substance, just the ramblings of someone who's been around her alchemy too long."

Celtic leaned back and dropped the now-emptied wine bottle next to the throne. He raised his arm theatrically, gesturing to Jokey to retrieve another before he slouched comfortably and folded his hands in his stomach.

"Oh, Maker can be quite articulate when she wishes. But being around all those chemicals all day can't be good for anyone, least of all someone who's cooking them up to destroy her former home."

Inferno cocked his head, intrigued. "Her former home?"

"Indeed. Why don't you ask her yourself?"

The men turned to see Maker standing, still clad in her nondescript brown robe. Jokey advanced out of the cellar door behind her, holding a flask of champagne and glancing about uncomfortably. "It's quite alright." She waved her hand, beckoning a nervous Jokey to advance past her and present Celtic with the champagne. He took the bottle and set it down next to the throne as he listened attentively to Maker's tale.

"I was once a healer. I was the finest in the land. I knew every tonic and concoction that one could make, and I had created more than a few new ones from scratch myself. I was invited to the court of the King to serve as his personal physician. Of course, he had his enemies."

"One day, he fell ill with pneumonia. As his physician, I was tasked with reviving him, and keeping him alive. I created some medicine for him, but I was sabotaged. His cousin from a cadet line of House Apidae, House Vespula, poured a shaker of salt into my concoction while I was distracted. He spoiled the batch and created a toxin instead of a cure."

"The king died the next day. The Vespula conspirators came forth and framed me for his death, using the concoction I created for him as proof of my duplicity. I was arrested and taken to a prison near the Baked Alaska mountains, and I was tortured. The rack, beatings, brandings, every conceivable pain they could've brought upon me, they did."

"Celtic received news of an opportunity, and sent Vulpix, disguised as a guard. He snuck into my cell and gave me an offer. Join and swear fealty, or be left to suffer. I didn't even have to think about the answer."

Maker clasped her hands behind her back, a wry grin crossing her thin face. She walked up towards the small group, taking a place besides Celtic and placing her hand lightly on the edge of the throne. Celtic shifted immeasurably away from her hand.

"It was regretful to destroy my home, but it had to be done. The Vespulas are only one example of the corruption entrenched in our beloved Subreddit. We must cleanse this corruption, wipe the slate clean and begin anew. Only through chaos can order arise, and I intend to spread chaos far and wide."

Yukon sighed, walking over to the side of the throne opposite Maker and picked up the bottle. He popped the cork, took another swig and leaned loosely next to Celtic.

"If you're all done expositing, I propose we strategize. We no longer have the element of surprise on our side, and we are desperately outnumbered. As much as I'd like to continue drinking, we need to plan. Any suggestions?"

Greatness spoke up. "I concur. We need to prepare for the next battle, wherever that may be. I suggest…"

Celtic snapped his fingers, cutting Greatness off mid-sentence. A rustling behind the curtains in a dark corner of the room alerted them all to another presence in the castle. The curtains were forced to the side, revealing a man standing behind them.

Jokey breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you Nachbar. I was afraid I would have to sully this room with even more Bumblebee blood." A sick smile formed on his countenance, leading Nachbar to shudder involuntarily. Nonetheless, he advanced forward, a wad of papers in his hand.

Yukon sighed. "Were you standing there that whole time just so you could make that reveal?"

"Possibly. I've always had a penchant for the theatre." Peter smiled and walked through the group, placed the papers in Celtic's hand and stepped away carefully. Celtic dramatically thrust the papers into the air and pointed at them.

"You see, gentlemen, these papers are going to win us the war. Peter is an officer within the Top Shelf organization, and, like the rest of us, seen the corruption in the subreddit. He has a vast array of loyal supporters at his disposal. You see, my friends, those men he has under his thumb are part of my plan to cripple our enemies before we even have to fight them."

"These letters are the key to that plan. Peter has written these letters and at my command, will send out messengers to deliver them to men loyal to him, as well as those he can fool, bribe or blackmail into servitude. He will pit the agents against members of rival governments, incriminating them as being a secret backer of this rebellion. They will plunge their knives into each other's backs, and if they haven't collapsed into anarchy or civil war, then we will destroy them with the might of our military, it's as simple as that."

Proud of his accomplishment, Nachbar smiled deviously. Celtic nodded and waved him off before returning to face his Council, which waited to be dismissed.

"Well, my friends, you may return to the celebrations at hand. Rest assured that by weeks end, the wretched kingdoms of the Subreddit will be all but subservient to our cause. Glory!"

Everyone but Inferno thrust their fist in the air. "Glory!" The group then disbanded, Vulpix, Greatness and Inferno exiting the hall to speak with their troops, and Maker to return to her experiments. Celtic folded his hands into a ball and folded them in his lap, a grimace sullying his normally eager countenance.

"You don't trust him, do you?" Jokey leaned in, making sure nobody else was in an earshot.

"No. He wields too much influence to be fully trusted. Crosshares all but enveloped the Fan-Art League after the end of the Third Shipping War. He's ambitious, and he's powerful. For now, we will extend our influence over his territory and troops. We will eliminate him quietly, we will blame it on our enemies, and we will bring Crosshares under our control."

Yukon stroked his chin and hiccupped. "Suppose he finds out. Suppose he executes a power play of his own."

Celtic scoffed. "We can handle it. Even if the idiot tries a coup de tat, or god forbid, a military rebellion, we can outmaneuver him. At the very least, his survival interest puts such plans far into the future. We have nothing to worry about."

Yukon rolled his eyes so dramatically Celtic could see it under the high priest's mask. "If you say so. It never hurts to have a backup plan."

"Don't be so pessimistic! If I didn't know better, I'd say you've started to believe the gibberish you spout to your acolytes."

The trio laughed loudly, enough to disturb and earn them a strange look from the guards stationed outside the throne room.

"Shall I grab another cask of wine, my liege? It seems Yukon has polished off yet another."

Yukon turned his attention to the empty wine bottle in his hand. "Ah, shit. It seems I have." Celtic groaned and nodded at Jokey, who promptly disappeared into the wine cellar to fetch another bottle.

From behind a newly hung banner of Night's Watch, Peter smirked triumphantly and stifled a chuckle. He wrote on a small pad of paper, shoved it into the inside pocket of his cloak, and quietly exited the building, celebrating his silent victory.