May 20, 9 ATC

City of Guns N' Roses, Duchy of Gunnia, Kingdom of Guns N' Roses

When the ships arrived in port, the weight of defeat was omnipresent. Soldiers walked off the docks and into the streets, slumped and haggard, overwhelmed by shock and loss. Some lodged in the barracks in Guns N' Roses, weary and injured, while others chose to wander the streets. Even the clouds hailed their failure: storms roiled in the clouds above the city, and yet rain never came. They had all tasted bitter defeat.

The commanders were no better off than the soldiers. Upon arrival, Nitesco locked himself in the upper floor of the Badaz Manor to plan while Gwydion shut himself in the basement to tinker half-heartedly. Strike and Vulpix disappeared into their own garrison, Strike to brood and Vulpix to recover from his wounds. The Mask was relatively unaffected, Austin noted, but he had turned uncomfortably stoic, even for him. Opifexa was the most concerning: never talkative or loud to begin with, she pulled away completely, pacing around the manor grounds for hours on end, never saying a single word.

It wasn't until the morning after their return, after they had all failed to get a night's rest, that anybody confronted the situation aloud. Austin was sitting at a small table in the kitchen, poking at the bread and cheese she called her breakfast, when Gwydion ascended the stairs from the basement. His apron and gloves were coated with soot and grease, but he had nothing to show for his efforts. Austin gave him a light smile, which he returned as he sat down.

"Good morning," she said. Gwydion nodded and grabbed himself a loaf of bread and chewed on it half-heartedly. Austin too returned to a dour silence, continuing to poke at her breakfast.

At once, loud footsteps shook them from their stupor, and they both turned to see who had come to join them. Nitesco arrived in the doorway, his face grim and full of determination, which could mean only one thing: he had a plan.

"Good morning," Austin said, testing the waters. Nitesco gave her a curt nod.

"Good morning," he replied. "I need you two in the war room now. We're planning our next moves."

"You mean you don't have one already?" Gwydion asked. "I would have figured you'd have one by now."

Nitesco bobbed his head side to side, silently agreeing with Gwydion's assessment. "Well, yes and no," he said. "I'll explain in the war room. Just follow me!"

Austin and Gwydion obeyed, somewhat unnerved by Nitesco's sudden urgency. They followed him through the manor into the war room, where the Mask, Opifexa, and Strike were already seated. After exchanging quiet greetings with the others, Austin and Gwydion took their seats at the table while Nitesco unrolled a large map and set it down in front of them.

"Now," Nitesco began, "I've called you all here because I've received some very troubling reports of Church activity around here. Last night, I was thinking: why, during the chaos of the evacuation, didn't the Church send some ships downstream and take out any escapees? They knew we made our camp near the river, and they could've easily blockaded the entrance. But they didn't. I couldn't figure it out until this morning."

On cue, the side doors of the war room opened. Kazehh and Jelo, flanked by several Rosian guards, were escorted into the room. Both of them gave a quick wave to Austin, but remained uncharacteristically sullen.

"These two arrived early this morning," Nitesco explained, "with some very distressing news. Would one of you care to enlighten us?"

"Yes," Jelo said uneasily, and he pointed to Armed and Ready's location on the map. "Kazehh and I had returned to Armed and Ready after Inferno died, to rest and celebrate before we took a new contract. Unfortunately, we weren't able to do that for long.

"Two days ago, a small fleet of Ladybug ships anchored outside of port and began bombarding the town. At first, we thought it was just an attack by Inferno loyalists. We were wrong. Church soldiers began flooding off the boats and into the city, burning and killing anyone and anything in sight. We were lucky to escape the city alive." Jelo crossed his arms and returned to sullen silence.

"Armed and Ready… is gone?" Austin asked. She felt a pang of loss. Armed and Ready was as close to a home as she ever had. And now, the Church had razed it to the ground.

"It's not just Armed and Ready," Nitesco said. "The Church hit nearly every major city around the corners of Rubia. Bumblebee, Monochrome, Enabler. And guess what all those points surround."

"Guns N' Roses," Strike said. Nitesco nodded and pointed to Guns N' Roses' position on the map. The nation itself occupied a good portion of coastline and a peninsula extending the massive lake they called the Confluence, as well as the small but strategically and economically significant Gun Mountains. The city of Guns N' Roses sat on the border of the mountains and the peninsula, making it well-defended; but now that the Church had vantage points around their territory, it was surrounded.

"It would seem we are their next target," Gwydion said. His voice had lowered, and the grimness in it now matched Nitesco's. "Now what do we do?"

"Well," Opifexa began, "how long do we have to prepare for their attack?"

"Not long," Kazehh said. "A few days at most. When Jelo and I fled, the soldiers were already striking camp outside the city. They intend to attack us soon."

"And what are we going to do about it?" Strike asked. "Surely we don't intend to roll over and take it."

"Of course not," Nitesco said, his voice brittle with irritation. "But the odds of us holding this city, especially if the Church is as well-prepared as our reports say, are slim."

"Then what?" The Mask asked. "We just flee? If we're caught outside the city, the odds of our survival are even slimmer."

"What about the people?" Austin asked. "We can't just leave them!"

"We won't," Nitesco assuaged her, his voice returning to its normal, softer tone. "I'm not just going to leave my people at the Church's mercy. We're going to evacuate as many of them as we can. I have evacuation tunnels underneath the city that lead out into the Gun mountains. They'll be safe there."

"And what of our men?" Opifexa asked. "We cannot evacuate them at the same time! What if the Church attacks halfway through?"

"We keep the men in the city, as a garrison," Austin suggested. "If the Church attacks, the soldiers can delay them long enough to get the civilians out of harm's way."

"My thoughts exactly," Nitesco said, "and we will evacuate after, if there's time. But we must realize the city cannot continue to be our base of operations. It's too exposed to the Church."

"And where do you suggest we go?" The Mask asked. Nitesco took a seat and pondered the question for a few seconds, composing his response.

"We don't have that many options," he said. "I'd like to avoid larger nations like Arkos, because they'll already be significant targets for the Church. There's no need to destabilize those positions any more." Nitesco straightened up to look at Strike. "I assume you have no problem with this?"

Strike shook his head. "No. I agree, actually. Arkos is going to be on the front lines. None of our commanders could guarantee the safety of a base of operations there."

"Renora is out of the equation too," Opifexa piped up. "It's too far north for communication to be feasible, and Regent Kurosawa has enough on his mind as it is."

"Then where do we go?" Gwydion asked. "There aren't many other locations suitable for this kind of work."

"Fear not, Gwydion," Nitesco said. "I've done some thinking about this, and I have two locations in mind." He pointed at a medium-sized, landlocked nation some miles north of Arkos, away from the river. Milk and Cereal.

"Milk and Cereal could be an excellent space to set up in," Nitesco said. "It's close to the war fronts, but surrounded by friendly nations. The natural defenses offered by the mountains would make attack difficult as well. The only real problem would be communication, which would be difficult given the terrain, but that's an acceptable price for security."

"Isn't Duke McDouggal neutral, though?" Opifexa asked. Austin sighed and nodded.

"McDouggal's a stubborn man," she said, recalling her short service with him. "But he's devoted to his people. If we can convince him siding against the Church is the best move for his nation, we can get him on board."

"I wouldn't take my chances with him," the Mask said, a sneer in his voice. "He's a staunch legalist, and technically, we are in rebellion. I'd like to see our second option."

Nitesco pointed to another medium-sized nation in Rubia, this one on the shores of the Confirmed River, which ran north. Freezerburn.

"Freezerburn's a mixed bag," Nitesco conceded. "It has highlands for defense and access to the river, which are both good for us. In addition, it's on the front lines, which makes communication to our forces much easier. King Dat Game-Guy, the ruler, is also sympathetic to our cause, which would make securing it as a base of operations much easier."

"So what are the downsides?" Strike asked.

"Like I said, it's on the front lines. Rubia is a hotbed right now, which would make our holding there less secure than it would be if we stayed in Junipera. That, and the Church has a strong, if small, presence in the region, which means spies could sneak in and sabotage us."

"Spies are always a problem," Opifexa said. "The Church loves intrigue more than Inferno did. And they're better at it too."

"Freezerburn is a solution nonetheless," Nitesco said. His face had returned to the stony expression he wore when the meeting began. "We can decide on which to pursue at a later time. I'm going to talk to my lieutenants. Consider this meeting adjourned." Nitesco grabbed the map and rolled it up before walking out. The Mask, Strike, and Opifexa did the same, standing up and leaving silently, going back to whatever they did in their free time. Only Kazehh, Jelo, Gwydion, and Austin remained in the room.

"Kazehh, Jelo," Austin began. "Is it really true?"

"Yes," Kazehh said, and Austin noticed his eyes had turned red. "It's gone. I don't know what they did with it afterward, but it was ablaze when we left."

"We did all we could," Jelo said as he sat down. His expression looked equal parts angry and guilty, and he spat out his words with spite. "But there were just so many."

"Armed and Ready isn't the only one," Austin said. The two paused and turned to her, fear in their eyes. "They attacked us while we were still in Crosshares territory," Austin explained. "Coronam and most of his forces are gone. Cinder too."

"Coronam…" Jelo said, and he shook his head. "A gruff man, to be sure, but a good one. Shame."

"And Cinder too," Kazehh said. "He's the man who got us into this whole mess. It's… strange to think he's dead."

"We can't just roll over and take this," Jelo said, and he stood up from his chair. "We have to strike back. The Church can't be allowed to walk over us like this!"

"Agreed," Kazehh said, and he unsheathed his brand-new crescent axe. "I want to see those bastards bleed. We'll stand with you, if you'll have us."

"We'd love to have you," Gwydion said. "And we'd be willing to pay—"

"Fuck payment," Jelo interrupted. He unbuckled his weapon, a newly crafted morning star, and let it fall onto the table with a satisfying thump. "I don't care about money. This is personal now."

"They took our home," Kazehh said, a rare grimace appearing on his face. "They won't take anybody else's if I can help it."

"Then we'll gladly accept your help," Gwydion said with a weary smile. He patted Jelo on the shoulder. "Go get some rest. You two must be exhausted."

"Talk to you later," Austin offered. Kazehh and Jelo smiled and nodded but left in silence, leaving her alone with Gwydion. A tense silence fell over the room, and Gwydion sighed.

"What is wrong?" Gwydion finally asked. Austin took a seat at the table and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"You know," she said, sniffling. "It's been, what, eight months since I first met you guys? For eight months, it's been nothing but victory after victory. I got closure about my father. Won a few battles. Became a leader of the League, for crying out loud." She paused. "I guess I forgot what defeat felt like."

Gwydion made a breathy sound, expressing sympathy or pity, Austin couldn't tell which. He placed his hand on her shoulder.

"But that's not all, is it?" His voice was gentle and fatherly. Austin took a deep breath. She shook her head.

"I was… thinking," she said, sheepish. "Thinking about the people I let down. The soldiers that died. The soldiers we left behind. I didn't just fail you guys." She paused, glancing over at the chair Opifexa had been sitting in. "I failed them too."

"Ah," Gwydion said. "You mean Coronam."

"Yes," Austin admitted. Gwydion nodded, understanding.

"I know that feeling," he said. "I know it all too well. It still cuts deep, even in old age."

"It still weighs on you?"

"It doesn't for most," Gwydion said, "but I've always been prone to melancholy, and they were very good friends of mine. Jaeger, Inferno, Samurai, Quixotic…" He trailed off, deciding it was likely better not to finish his list. "I'll never forget them. And as tempting as it can be to blame yourself, you must realize it's not your fault."

"How?" Austin asked. "How can I tell myself that? I'm the commander of the League! I had a duty to my men! And now how many of them are lying dead in that city? With Coronam?"

"You did everything you could," Gwydion said, unsure of whether that was the best answer. "That's all we can ask of you. You must remember, Austin, that the more you blame yourself, the less you blame who's really responsible: The Church."

Austin stayed still for a bit, mulling Gwydion's words before she let out a defeated sigh. "I suppose you're right. The Church must pay" she said. As she said the words, her face soured, and her words hardened. "The Church must pay," she repeated, her words determined and sharp.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Gwydion chided. "They will, in time. Don't let your ardor blind you to the consequences of your actions." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Nitesco did that, and he regrets it to this day."

Austin looked toward the door. "His guilt weighs heavy on him too," she said. "Even I can see that."

"Nitesco is yet young," Gwydion said. "He's only, what, four years older than you are? He has the vigor of youth, but also the tempestuousness." Gwydion folded his hands. "Nitesco will sulk and pace, but he will still do his duty. He never lets his emotions get in the way of that, and neither should you."

Austin nodded, again absorbing Gwydion's words. "I guess you're right." She laughed weakly. "I'm getting a bit too torn up over this, aren't I?"

"No," Gwydion said. "It's good that you care. But you can't shoulder all the blame, alright?" Austin nodded, and he patted her shoulder. "I'm going to go down to the docks. I think I left a few things on the boat. Stay out of trouble."

"You know me," Austin said, and she gave an empty laugh. Gwydion left without another word, and she was left alone.

Austin looked out the window, into the city, at the massive bronze statue in the central square. The four ANGQ commanders stared out across the landscape: Quixotic out at the Confluence, Gwydion over the Gun Mountains, Nitesco over the edge of the city and into the peninsula, and Austin, her father, at the Badaz Manor. She met her father's lifeless bronze gaze. It seemed to speak to her.

She would not fail her father's legacy, Austin promised herself. The Church would pay for their crimes. The Church would burn.

May 25, 9 ATC

Free City of Pollination, Pollination-Crosshares Commonwealth

Zissman was practically burning up in his new getup. The new cloak he had made for the occasion was a mix of black and dark red, trapping the heat under his clothes as he walked to the meeting hall under the late spring sun. If he spontaneously combusted before he got there, he wouldn't be surprised.

Jannis and Draco looked little better. Their armor sagged and chafed as they walked beside him, and both of them looked sluggish and tired. Draco seemed less worse for wear, being acclimated to temperatures like this, but Jannis looked almost as miserable as Zissman. Living in the cold Northlands did little to prepare either of them for the heat of the south, and every summer served as a cruel reminder of that.

At last, they reached the meeting hall, outside of which a statue of King Inferno CLXVII stared down at them. Its gaze seemed hostile and accusatory. Zissman grumbled and ignored it as he walked in.

The foyer was practically empty, Zissman saw, save for a handful of his men, Anti, and Faker. Faker sat at a table, sipping a glass of wine, while Anti paced impatiently. Zissman clapped his hands as he walked over to them.

"Anti, Faker!" The two of them looked up at him with disinterest. "How are we today?"

"You're late," Anti said flatly. Zissman looked up at a clock, which told him he was six minutes early.

"Am I?"

"You may as well be," Anti said. "The lords are growing restless. Most of them are only here because you strongarmed them into coming, and this isn't exactly doing you any favors."

"Then let's not keep them waiting any longer," Zissman said, forcing a smile onto his face. "Faker, Anti, you know your lines?"

"I used to be an actor," Faker said with a hint of pride. "I can sell it."

"Excellent." Zissman turned to Draco and Jannis. "Draco, Jannis, would you please get the centerpiece? My speech won't be half as effective without it."

Draco and Jannis exchanged glances, but obeyed. As Faker and Anti walked off to join the assembled lords, Zissman took a deep breath. This was the moment he had been waiting for since he'd met Inferno.

"Alright, Irving," he said to himself. "Showtime!"

Zissman walked out onto the balcony above the assembled lords, who were engaged in loud conversation. A representative of every nation that aligned itself with Inferno was in the crowd, bickering and debating over whatever mundane topics interested them. After a few moments, the assembly quieted down after seeing Zissman had finally deigned to arrive.

"Brothers and sisters!" he said, his voice swelling in his lungs and echoing over the chamber. The assembly fell into silence at the sound of Zissman's commanding voice. "I have gathered you here to discuss the future of the Subreddit."

"Get to the damn point!" One of the representatives yelled, and a few of the other diplomats laughed at his audacity. Zissman clucked his tongue in irritation, but kept his smile plastered to his face.

"Inferno is dead," he announced, and this statement was enough to bring them back to attention. Everyone knew that Inferno was gone, but the stark reality of the situation was enough to jostle them back into a deferential silence. The security of their investment in Inferno's cause hinged on how this meeting ended.

"Inferno is dead," he repeated, "and for the moment, our movement is headless. We have gathered here to elect a new head of state in her stead."

At this, a clamor rose up. Some of the lords recognized their opportunity to seize the reins, while others began chatting amongst themselves, debating who the replacement would be. Zissman had already decided. He called them all to silence.

"My friends, please," he said. "Before we get ahead of ourselves, before this pointless bickering gets out of hands, may I ask you to consider one alternative to Inferno's succession?"

"And who would that be?" Another faceless lord spoke up. Zissman flashed a charismatic smile.

"The Church of Thorns," he said. Instantly, the crowd erupted in more clamor. The ambitious and proud began throwing questions and accusations at him, the more neutral representatives began talking amongst themselves, pondering what this would mean for them and their roles. The wisest of them began speaking sullenly within their delegations, already knowing how the meeting would end. Only Anti and Faker remained silent, staring up at Zissman with expectant expressions.

As the clamor cooled, Faker stood to deliver his line. "On what grounds," he asked, with a surprisingly convincing delivery, "do you claim command? You're a religious leader, not nobility!"

Cries of assent. Faker looked pleased with himself. Zissman felt his fake smile turn genuine at the delicious irony and leaned forward.

"Inferno made the Church of Thorns her state church," Zissman said. "And I'm sure you'd be interested to know that the lords of Crosshares and Pollination have already consented to the Church's ascent to leadership of her Commonwealth. Why should we not take her mantle of sovereign as well?"

The representatives once more began to chatter amongst themselves, and Zissman felt himself beginning to grow very irritated with this cycle. Faker let it peter out before delivering his next line.

"Regardless of your legitimacy, the Church isn't strong enough to fight, let alone lead, our war. It has no military, nor experience in the military. And it certainly doesn't have the influence that even the smallest lord here has."

Zissman turned around and saw that Draco and Jannis had returned, both holding the centerpiece of his demonstration. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation and engaged Faker again.

"We have no power, you say?" he asked in a knowing tone. "Well, I have news for you. Most of you may not know, but the Church does have a militant wing: we have multiple legions of Church Crusaders, all trained in the arts of war and strategy."

"You're lying," Faker said, suppressing a knowing smirk. "Even if the Church had these resources, they wouldn't be enough to face the League."

"Oh really?" Zissman asked, and his eagerness was now obvious. "I have more news, then. One week ago, my men attacked the League at the occupied city they were using as a base. Not only did we devastate their manpower and force them to retreat, but we obtained a prize that Inferno never could: the capture of King Coronam!"

Jannis and Draco walked up to the balcony and, for everyone to see, pushed a bound and gagged King Coronam onto the railing. The crowd went wild. The representatives exploded into frantic discussion once again, almost disbelieving of what Zissman presented to them. A few of the more suspicious members of the assembly went up to the edge of the balcony to see if it was really King Coronam, while the more bloodthirsty members clamored up with them and hurled insults and objects at the captive king. Coronam said nothing, nor did he attempt to speak through his gag; he merely glared hatefully back at the japing throng. Zissman waved for Jannis and Draco to take him away while he returned to his speech.

"You see, the Church is more than capable of leading us to victory. Was this war not meant to restructure the Subreddit? To uproot the stagnant old order and replace it with something new? Already my armies march across Rubia, poised to strike down Nitesco and Austin and the rest of their pathetic League. We are the new way. We carry the new message, and we ask you to side with us."

As a contemplative hush fell over the assembly, Anti stood up and delivered her speech. "I will side with the Church," she announced. "It's clear to me that they are the only option. They accomplished in a month what Inferno could not in eight! This Subreddit is old, and stagnant. I say out with the old! Out with old rivalries! Out with outdated traditions! Out with the old order and in with the new! The Church will lead us to greatness!" She pressed her right palm to her chest and folded her left fist over it in the salute of the Church. "Long live the Church!"

"Long live the Church!" Another man echoed, and he stood and did the salute as well. Yet another woman stood, and another, and another, all chanting "long live the Church" as they swore fealty to them. Soon the entire assembly, willing or otherwise, stood and gave the salute.

Zissman felt a rush. It was an intoxicating feeling of possibility, the feeling of long-laid plans coming to their inevitable fruition. He had half the Subreddit pledged to the Goddess, and he eagerly awaited the battles that laid ahead in her service. Soon, the whole Subreddit would belong to the Goddess, the greatest offering anyone had given to her, and Zissman would guide them to it.

He turned to look behind him, to see what Draco and Jannis had to say. Draco, true to form, had also folded his hands in the salute, and he wore a smile that conveyed both joy and bloodthirst. Zissman was pleased with himself; he had taught Draco well.

He turned to Jannis next, who, while he was saluting, wore a sullen expression. Jannis stared at Zissman, a somber stare that made Zissman slightly uncomfortable.

"Long live the Church," Zissman said.

"Long live the Church," Jannis replied, and his gaze did not waver.

Zissman ignored his disposition. He made a note to himself not to bring Jannis out in hot weather. It clearly made him irritable.

He turned back to the crowds, to their chanting of loyalty that pledged them the Goddess and to the Church as their shepherd. He found his smile returning to him naturally.

"Long live the Church," he cried. "Long live the Church."