The Empire is the hegemo█ic power of the continents east.

  It’s tendencies to expand have earned it such a reputation as a great power.

  For the losers, a foe they will strike the moment any weakness shows.

  Land it forcefully took to satiate it’s belly, are prime hotbeds for those they deem ‘disrupters to the order of civilization’.

  Devouring and processing are completely different words that work together physically.

  The Empire is no fool. The issues newly created due to war is a massed pot soon to spill if not corrected.

  But said Empire is eager to move on to the next objective.

  With pests sprouting everywhere however…

  “The blade must cleave the rotting flesh.”

  Several nuisances come and go.

  The highly refined and insane are difficult.

  Street urchins may have connections to elusive figures feeding in the chaos. Who in turn uses whoever as cards for the next profit.

  Miserable people caught in it deforming into drunks and pleasure riddled addicts chasing after even one more beyond them. Some reach a state far beyond the normal downgrade of life.

  Ghosts of obsession.

  Forsaking everything for their one clear minded goal.

  And in the borders of the Empire, the extreme militarism and fires in territories are all but common.

  Besides those of it’s initial territory and those ‘clean and washed’, everything else is rotting until the imperials deem it sufficient for a ‘rinse’.

  Only then will it be on a timer of incorporation.

  Though even for the blue bloods of the hierarchy, landing a position in land not yet ‘rinsed’ is a death sentence.

  Desperate or sacrificial lambs are sent.

  “They certainly wouldn’t send anyone important.”

  Majority of the northern mountains used to belong to the Ujkal alliance.

  Small part of it is notably flat.

  A steep price of blood for mainly rocks.

  And in the house of leadership governing the annexed territory, the governor met with the distinct silver clad entourage. One specifically in that group.

  Akelia’s arm.

  For them to be here…

  The Empire is increasing their soldiers from the sights of the past days. With prime fodder weakening and waiting to be rooted, they must know too.

  A gamble in the face of the owner's backyard.

  “...Increasingly problematic.”

  When Akelia moves so too does the Empire.

  Cat and mouse.

  This must be worth it’s value.

  Then it’s decided.

  Before the house is burned down in a blaze of glory, cut your losses in this cut throat world.

  …That’s just how it is.

  Don’t forget it.

  — — — —

  For all it’s worth, it wasn’t much.

  But reputation precedes that. Cross us, watch where you sleep tonight.

  Any who are even remotely close will brush death.

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  “Hand it over.”

  Balloon it over several times and they will hunt you for the rest of your life.

  “Don’t you see what a difficult situation you’ve put me in? They’ll chew me out for this.”

  The blade gleams against the neck of Old Nick.

  I glance at the satchel.

  The eyes of fear from children and caretakers.

  Only in Old Nick's eyes were clear acceptance and years long exhaustion.

  “You think these are fake or something?” Akelia’s arm impatiently said. “A joke to you?”

  At that I sneered.

  “No.”

  Akelia’s arm stared at me with a cold face.

  Whimpering came from a particular kid.

  “Shut that brat up.”

  Wordlessly the fingers mercilessly surrounded that kid. Now hiccupping with no way out.

  No one left their spot among the other kids or caretakers.

  Grabbing the small brown haired kid, they started to scream. The fingers raised their weapons and plunged it into every place of that kid.

  Over and over.

  Agonizing screams fizzled out as one finger tore the kid's neck, passing through bone entirely.

  Reddened eyes dripping with tears as the head fell to the ground as it was thrown at my feet.

  “Hand it over.”

  I looked back at them.

  Your life or others.

  It doesn’t matter.

  My ticket out of here appeared.

  It tickled my heart.

  “Fuck you.” I grinned.

  “You damn bitch!” the arm roared. “Kill them all! You chose this!”

  I turned around and ran.

  “Hunt and kill her!!!”

  Some of the fingers followed. The rest enacted the order.

  Rounding the corner the last glance of Old Nick was him kneeling. Even as his throat was slit.

  Words of desperation turning into screams like that of the brown haired kid echoed.

  Old Nick prayed for the last time I saw him.

  Like it mattered in the face of death.

  You avoid it as much as you can. Can’t? Then delay through viable means.

  That’s all there is to it.

  Old Nick chose his, I chose mine.

  Now it’ll be freedom.

  Thanks for everything. Or not.

  Gratitude is superficial. Transactional.

  That’s just how it is. After all, they won’t let this go.

  But it won’t be long before they lose the trail.

  ****

  Much of the interference comes largely from the Empire.

  It’s Akelia that's moving after all. And brazenly at that.

  So it’s a guaranteed interest in what this organization is chasing so openly to shake and murder entire places to get.

  Power influenced from the center can reach all the way to the border, but with massive weakening due to the fragile system emplaced.

  No such nation wants to see it’s hard work in assimilating suddenly be interrupted and ruined.

  The amount of effort and resources poured in is well beyond cutting it off.

  However Akelia operates differently.

  It is not tied to the state and people at the bottom.

  Vested self interests are the only thing they care about. And that is the boss of Akelia.

  “...To want it so much. Hah.”

  Whether a finger or hand dies matters little.

  A new one will take their place soon after.

  But arms are trickier.

  Not high up but neither middle managers.

  Rather the ones up top are groups controlling the arms and below.

  Akelia’s head.

  So much so that one head appeared.

  “Haha.”

  Fuck.

  The path leading out of the Empire is narrow and small.

  They make it no small deal when they march loudly with fierce vigor.

  With most areas heavily planted with soldiers, the only place with moderate amount of foot traffic is a bit westward from here.

  Once crossed over to the republic, even Akelia wanes in influence.

  Letting your guard down then can still rip the life out of you.

  …They’re still searching.

  Any who enter sight are immediately searched for any connection through coercion.

  Refusal is refusal of life.

  Deception is always good to get what you want.

  If they fail to see through it, that’s on them.

  If they do but play along, there's a motive. Facial expressions can say something.

  To survive, every means is viable.

  If being labelled, I am a liar.

  My survival is tied to my skills.

  The orange light slowly exorcised the shadows.

  Freedom is close.

  As the Empire and Akelia try and fail, I survive.

  The death of others brought precious time.

  For being so easily deceived, kind, cautionless.

  Their fault for falling for this world's cruelly honeyed words.

  That’s just how it is after all.