Chapter 824 – All Hands On Deck

“They were facing invasion from Paradeisius and the Second Arc right now. We do not have to get blood on our hands, how do you plan to justify that?”

“Stop talking and think for a moment Samson. If they defeat Paradeisius, if they stop the Second Arc, do you think that Starpurge work?”

…

“This is the turning point, it is the last chance we have to push them back in.”

…

“I struggle to even believe what I say, but the window at which Starpurge will work is closing.”

Helenna saw the lights going off first, the alarms going through Hallin as Saksma’s eyes went wide. The Goddess of Doschia had been on the verge of crying, although that had been wiped away through her combat experience. She stood up straighter on instinct and turned to the Goddess of Love. “I assume you know what this is about?” Ahead of them, the fact that a hundred protestors were being loaded into black and white police vans seemed not so important.

“I do not.” Helenna said, her phone buzzed a moment later. “I assume I do now.” It was indeed a message: Arascus’ Office: unlock device to read. “Invasion.” Helenna said her local garrison stopped their dispersal. The captains and his lower ranking offices had made a closed loop and were discussing something in hushed quiet voices that the Goddess of Love could not exactly make out.

“Now?” Saksma asked.

“Cancel your reports.” Helenna talked quickly, sounding more like she listing the words off as she tapped her password in. “The goal of it was for some self-reflection, ruling is not fun, nor easy and sometimes, you have to get your hands dirty. It would be optimal if you had written about the fact that one hundred individual people cannot be allowed to hold the world hostage and I’d have given you higher marks if you complimented me in some fashion.” The Goddess of Love pulled a whimsical voice as the message was being decrypted. “Oh I saw Helenna and she was so lovely and so beautiful that I struggled not to kneel out of sheer awe at her magnanimity.”

“What?” Saksma asked.

“I’m just joking.” Helenna said and tapped Saksma’s on the arm. “Take a joke.”

“But why you…” Saksma said narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Her golden hair fell in waves around her. “Mark it?”

“Because most reports are filtered through me before they reach Arascus.” Helenna said dryly and stared at the message: Code-Black across Epa announced. Code-Red across Arika. Empire is going enter general mobilization today. That was important. It was today, not tonight. They were not going to be preparing and waiting for the enemy to come with the dawn. There would be fighting today. “We’re under attack.”

A jet fighter flying low over the city and beginning to circle silenced the crowd. “Paradeisius.” Saksma said.

“Who else?”

“Do we know where?” Saksma asked.

“I’m checking.” Helenna said. She had trained Arascus’ Office well, they were succinct. What came through was a list. Locations currently reporting portal signatures above them: Aris, Hallin, Kaczaw, Arburg, Camford, Arcadia… The list went on, the document was live, someone was updating it in real time.

“Here?” Saksma looked up at the sky, her eyes tracking the jet. Good thinking on the girl, to catch that.

“Everywhere.”

Imperial Arika officially declares Red-Alert across its lands.

Olonia rose up from her bed, her body slowly reawakening from her relaxation. She stretched one hand above her head and bent her spine to the side to ease her side. This building specifically had a garden and a wall so that people would not be able to see her stretch bare. Her feet pressed into the soft carpet of curly hairs and she sighed. That was a good rest.

Her eyes went to the unlocked screen built into the wall, where she had been watching movies just a moment before. The screen had filled up with messages. Normally, those could be left for a few moments. But seeing the crown three swords going through its centre sent an alertness into Olonia’s spine that was almost as close as hearing the orchestra of war. She picked up her remote, poured herself a shot of fine clear vodka and drank it backwards as she opened her messages.

The liquid tasted like fire in her throat and Olonia poured another. One to wake up, one for good luck. She clicked the first message from Arascus’ Office: Multiple Paradeisian portal signatures detected through the Empire. It was straight, to the point, and efficient. Excitedly like Arascus even if the language was just too formal to be written by him: All theatres are to mobilize, all local garrisons are to report to base and await further orders. And far too short for him.

Down went the shot for good luck, and another, for a good day, was poured. Olonia’s dark grey-blue eyes focused on the message as she began to pull her hair out of her face. To Goddess Olonia, the Lubskan Theatre is currently being managed by General Sokolowski, it is expected that he will stay in his position. Definitely not Arascus’ hand, he would have just said it straight: Olonia, you’re not in charge of the Lubskan Theatre.

The shot for the good day was drank and Olonia looked at her bottle. Another one would do, this one the Empire. And the next message: Instructions are to operate at range, with a rifle, and assist the troops as best as you able to. The Emperor has given no advice on which city to assist in. Nevertheless, current military estimates state that the attack will be simultaneous.

Olonia drank the shot, saw another three messages, and flicked through them. None were important, Arascus’ Office had to be filled with new blood. She didn’t want to receive their summarized reports and instead began to pick out clothes. A light shirt that would go under armour. Her hand hovered over the torn uniform of the One-Seventeenth. That one was a special memory. Onto the next one.

By the time she kicked a leg up to pull a sock on, she was on loudspeaker with the general staff of the Epan Theatre. “Sokolowski.” Olonia imagined they would need a speech. “Have you drank for the motherland today?”

“No Goddess.” The general replied.

“Good.” Olonia said. “I’ve drank enough for it today, send a helicopter to pick me up and save the drink for when we win.”

Imperial Epa enters General Mobilization. Code Black is issued.

Aliana stood at Castle Berksor and looked through at the ancient classical pieces of armour that knights once wore. She wanted to wear something like that in the future, just as she had for tournaments. Armour of gold or of silver, complete with a cape. A crown on her head. Something that looked like the proper Divinity that was talked about in myths. She would ask, one day, but it would not be today, and it would not be tomorrow. And not whilst this crisis of the Second Arc was happening. Definitely not then.

For now, she turned to the right, where the peak of Imperial Divine arms sat. Her compound bow was there, complete with a wall of arrows, every type that had been built and used, from fragmenting shrapnel to newer models which relied on heat, or even an experimental arrow which housed a wasp drone. A tiny self-guided rocket that would spin and home for a few seconds to close the gap.

And her armour, tiny scaled steel plates that would fall over her torso. Black fabric underneath them, the same gemstones that lined the armour of Imperial Knights embedded into it. Tiny, last resorts of protection although Aliana was not going to complain about magic on her. She took a deep breath and unwound her cloak from around her neck. It fell to the floor as the red sweater came off. And the skirt. The heels would be exchanged for the heavy, steel-tipped armoured greaves that were offered to Divines. Too much for a human to even lift, but Aliana had seen Saksma kick down a wall with them during testing. If they could withstand brick, they should be able to withstand bone.

One piece went on, then another. Aliana fixed the belt around her waist and tightened it. Now that she thought about the Tartarian War and fighting under Ashen Skies… Was she excited? What was this warmth in her stomach? Really?

Nostalgia?

Surely she had a brighter heart than that.

She remembered cheering when hearing the news of the FPN-1 being dropped into Tartarus. She remembered her and all the other National Divines having a week of their own private celebrations on the beaches of Southern Rilia where they told their best stories of the war.

Maybe not.

Leechworks Cannibalizing Locations are alerted not to dismantle military vessels.

Elassa blinked and stopped charging the crystal massive white crystal as truck drove away from the massive pile of diamonds it had brought in from Arika. Normally, the Goddess of Magic would not let anything disturb her concentration. After getting to a certain level of skill, then doing magic was practically like meditation. The rest of the world stopped existing as you rewrote reality. But it was not just her, it was all of Arcadia.

The mages working in the distance on dragging yet another floating island out of a valley had stopped. The students that were being taught and their tutors too were now stood in gardens, saying nothing. Lectures were paused, quaint little displays of affection behind bushes and under trees were put to a halt. And the land of magic turned to look up at a single point in the sky.

Elassa’s mouth twisted, the diamonds in her dress and her rings faded as she was momentarily too stunned to think, her eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, then downwards in confusion. And for moment, all her mind could do was play a single message that sounded like all gears in her brain coming to a crashing halt: What? Paradeisius was opening a portal above Arcadia. Above Arcadia, right now.

It wasn’t visible yet, but the faint energies of foreign magic were there. Magical lamps shifted and pulsed whenever some of the uncontrollable angelic energies spiralled outwards. Students began to move, faces turned to Elassa. And the Goddess of Magic almost struggled to rationalize it. They were opening above Arcadia.

Above the single most well versed, most powerful institution of magic in this world. Not even an institution, above a war college. Not A but THE War College, capitalized. Above a place which ranked what would be a tutor in another school as nothing more than an adept. Above mages who had ridden the ICDT towers and who wanted a break from this eternal grind against the Second Arc? They were really opening a portal above Arcadia?

And, worst of all, it was with Elassa here. The Goddess of Magic shook her head and turned back to the crystal, then began to fill it with her magical energies once again. She supposed she should rest before but… there were countless eyes on her. One of the older magicians coughed. Elassa took a deep breath and turned to her school. Her voice boomed across the entire land: “Yes, I am aware that a Paradeisian portal is appearing above our heads right now. It will continue to open. We are currently on Second Arc schedule, so you may take a break and study how it forms.”

But then she supposed that wasn’t good enough for them. They needed some morale help. “This is the War College of Arcadia. We are obviously facing a diversionary assault, I am here.” That wasn’t enough either. Elassa clapped her hands. “Defensive barriers shall be raised on my sign, I am announcing a live combat demonstration today.”

Metropolitan Garrisons issue orders for all soldiers to return and report to active duty.

Etala sat in the meeting, reading over the printed email once again, as the politicians and all the leading individuals of the UNN slowly worked. The situation here was improving, trade in the post-Ashen Skies era was once again active. There had even been cases of tourism back and forth, between the two nations that sat on either side of the Alanktyda. The disaster of the Great Wave had not been forgotten, not even forgiven…

But maybe it had been put into scale? During that war, everyone tuned into the Imperial efforts and watched them fight and stall the demons. And whereas the UNN did not assist, it had been difficult to see that war as anything but a battle for Arda. When the Empire won, it had not just been an Imperial victory, it had been an assurance that Ashen Skies would not reach the UNN coast. It had been a promise of certainty that demons would not be burning down their cities.

And no matter what Continent Cracking did, it was difficult to maintain an anti-Imperial agenda when they had just won a battle for Arda. The topic itself was a poison pill anyway here. Pro and anti-Imperial discourse was a sidestepping around the problem of rebuilding, and so Etala had focused on the latter. They had missed one apocalypse.

And then the Second Arc had come, and suddenly, there was another apocalypse. And missing one was bad enough, the UNN was supplying Arascus’ regime with steel and spare parts and anything they could produce that would go on to save Arda, because the simple question of who did what and when paled in comparison to the fact that the world would be smashed apart in less than half a year’s time.

And now… the tremor in Etala’s voice silenced the rest of the room. “They’re under attack.” They were under attack. She looked around the room and found everyone staring at her. The chaos of politics ensured every face in this room was new, and some of them had not even sat here for a month. “I repeat, the Empire is under attack and they request assistance.”

“Goddess…” One woman said, obviously not fond of it. She was one of the newer faces.

“Goddess what? Do we have a plan against the Second Arc? Or is that it?”

“And if Paradeisius attacks us?” Someone else spoke up. “If we interfere?”

“So WHAT?!” Etala raised her voice. “SO WHAT IF THEY ATTACK US?” She stood up, her palms slamming onto the table. “SO WHAT? TELL ME NOW? DO WE HAVE A LATTICE PROGRAM? DO WE EVEN HAVE A CHANCE OF STOPPING THE SECOND ARC?!” Her voice boomed across the room. “THIS!” Her hand slamming down onto the wooden table cracked it. “THIS IS NOT AN ATTACK ON EMPIRE! THIS IS AN ATTACK ON ARDA! DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IF THEY SUCCEED?!”

Etala pushed again and the table collapsed, sending papers flying across the room. “WE ALL DIE! IT IS NOT BYE-BYE EMPIRE! IT IS BYE-BYE ARDA! AND YOU’RE SITTING HERE AND TALKING ABOUT IT?!”

Eparika Cleaning Efforts are put on hold.

Tasaidien swam through the coral court of Alanktyda, city, and not Alanktyda, ocean, or Alanktyda, nation. Integration into the Empire had been nothing like it had been said. Arascus was a surface God, a land-dweller, and he would forever be a land-dweller. And that was that. Tasaidien did not have his crown stolen, nor his court rearranged. Some trivialities had changed of course.

Sometimes, mermen would be deployed to calm storms when an Imperial ship was caught in it. Sometimes, researchers would come down in submarines and had to be guided about. Sometimes, a lost treasure or someone’s precious belongings were found and had to be returned. There was a food tax, they had to use the Imperial Mark to trade with the land. The only real price had been the cleaning of the Eparika, which could only tangentially be laid upon Arascus’ feet, and then the undersea mining operations for raw ore, at the behest of this Second Arc crisis. Neither were reasons to hate the Empire though. Nothing really had changed.

But today, everything changed. Tasaidien settled upon a ledge, his tail curving like a snake as he watched an army assemble in a flat wall of bodies. Mermen lined to the side and then up. A thousand had marshalled in an hour when the God of this Ocean had made the call and decided that rebellion, now of all times, was the foolish play. One could argue with Arascus all day, the God of Pride would even engage with the topic, but now, they weren’t arguing with the God of Pride. They were arguing with extinction.

The God’s voice boomed through waters as animals began to come closer. Whales and sharks and octopi that stayed on the ground. Greater beasts, sea snakes that rarely revealed themselves. Alanktyda, city, was glowing before him. Tall towers, all of them fashion out of grown coral lit up by bioluminescent fauna and flora. “Today, the Empire is under attack.” The waters carried his words.

“Today, Paradeisius once again enters our world, and they do so with the explicit intent to delay the Empire and destroy our chance at surviving the Second Arc. And today, the Empire has called upon us, they ask that we march to war by their sides, and rally at their coastal cities, and defend their so that they may spare troops for further inland. They ask our blood be spilled.”

“And thus, I take it upon myself to say that yes, our blood shall be spilled along with theirs in this shared cause.” He looked around. “If anyone wishes to argue. Raise your voice or return to your home.”

No one did.

Municipalities begin raising their defensive barriers.

Fortia tried to keep the smile off her face as Kassandora shot her that furious look once again. She had no clue how the others were reacting. Maybe someone was crying, maybe someone was screaming. Elassa would be no doubt, if Arcadia was under threat too. Helenna would probably be worried, although the Goddess of Love could pretend to play it off very well. Maybe the Nationals would be gearing up? But here, when it was just the Goddess of Peace and the Goddess of War in a tent from which even Kavaa had been evicted, it was two Divines that knew exactly where they stood in the Imperial Military hierarchy.

And those positions were number one and two. Kassandora narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The Extermination War is cancelled. Neneria is staying down there to hold the flow. We’re closing the tunnels. Dynamiting them. Good or not?”

“I would do the same. How long on the dynamite?”

“Two days realistically? Neneria will come out then unless they start digging. Allasaria, Irinika, Anassa will be sent up here. You, Fer and Maisara will be split up, this is too many frontlines to keep the team together.” Crimson eyes locked on bronze ones and Fortia fought to keep her smugness away. “Are you going to mention it?”

“Mention what?”

“That I’ve not mentioned Kavaa?”

“She’s staying with you.”

“She is.”

“I’ve read the Rhomaion Report.” Kassandora had come too close for comfort back then, and Kavaa herself was not a warrior either. Splitting them up would result in both not being allowed to enter the field. Kassandora sighed and shook her head.

“Alright.” Kassandora said. “So the objective is a quick war, we have to end this as soon as possible.” She looked at Fortia. “That means no FPN-1 equivalent. We don’t have the months to spare, civilian industry has to come back online as quickly as possible.” Her hands tapped along the table, her fingers running in sequence as released a deep breath. “Alright Fortia, just out with it, you’re happy he’s given you the nukes, aren’t you?”

“I was wondering how long it’d take for you to notice.” Fortia said. “I am. You would be nuking cities.”

“Cities have factories we cannot afford to lose, don’t make me out to be an idiot.” Kassandora said. “But a portal is not a city, is it?” Fortia made the connection immediately. She had just been happy at the promotion at first, but now, she saw the vision.

“Madness.”

“Am I wrong?” Kassandora said. “We want to end it quickly, don’t we?”

“I didn’t say you were wrong.” The pair stared at the useless maps of the underground catacombs. Fortia released a deep breath. “What city are you thinking?”

“It can’t be an industrial centre or a capital.” Kassandora said. “Perfect would be a magical college nearby, for mages to stabilize and hold the portal from this side. Maybe even expand it.”

Fortia answered absentmindedly as she thought of the sight. “We would to be threading needles here.”

“We’ve threaded a needle once already.”

“I’m not arguing with you. I know we can.”

Imperial Strategic Missile Corp is given the green-light-standby: launch within five minutes’ notice.

Arascus stared up at the line in the sky. It was only now starting to become visible soldiers from nearby and magicians rallied around Pheonix Nest. Completed lattices were slowly hovering away at their glacial place as the land here was being rearranged. One mountain slowly being swallowed by the ground as another was rising to replace it, just slightly off to the side. Longer and with solid cliffs for edges. A wall of earth around which buzzed a thousand different flies.

All the mages working here had been taken off drawing their required ritual circles and instead where assisting with covering the defence as the army prepared in hidden dens. Under bushes, within caves or trenches or behind sandbags and other pieces of industrial junk that lay here. The storepits, since they had not build warehouses, were being submerged into the ground and then overgrown with flora. Maybe they wouldn’t be able to bring about forests here, and maybe someone lesser would consider it impossible and farcical to even try and hide a project of this size and scale, but Arascus was not that someone.

He stared up at the blue sliver that was now starting to grow and expanding. The area under it had been evacuated already in case this was the Skysplitter coming down on them. Arascus somehow doubted that the angels would unleash that great blade here though. A city would be a better location. Arcadia too. A magical college maybe? Something more… permanent than here.

He let out a deep breath and brought out his phone. More notifications, from everyone and from everywhere. Too much to read, and the every private office was reporting something else. One of the messages was from Internal Affairs, another from Helenna. He checked the latter first: I’m staying in Hallin with Saksma. That received a simple confirmation of a thumbs up reaction.

Then Internal Affairs: Wilhelm Trosk asks for permission to announce a state of total war.

That got a text: Granted.

If Paradeisius thought they were coming to an unprepared world, or one that wasn’t ready to fight for its own existence, then it had forgotten what Arda was capable of. They would get a war more total than they would ever imagine.

The FPN-1 landing on Tartarus would be made into a damn joke in comparison.