Before the Address

Senator Donatello Favero did not show up at the next Senate meeting. He had not been seen anywhere in Constantinople for weeks and his small apartment in the city looked as though it had not been visited in quite some time. The Senator had simply vanished, although whether this was of his own choosing was debatable. Rumour had it that the Senator was on vacation and had simply not bothered to return for the recent meeting.

The sack was pulled off of Donatello’s head and he blinked as light bombarded his eyes for the first time in hours. He had been grabbed suddenly and without warning while enjoying some time off in the Peloponnese. All he recalled was a rag being shoved into his face and the smell of some foul substance before he lost consciousness. After his eyes adjusted to the light, noticeably the light of several flaming braziers, he took note of the exotic religious symbols scrawled on the floors around him. He could feel rope binding him to the chair he was sitting in. The Senator had a better idea of who his captors were. He had expected them to come for him much sooner. He purposely twitched his eye and snapped his head around wildly like a madman.

“Good, you have awakened,” a voice said from just behind the light of the braziers. A man in a black robe stepped forward, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood even as the nearby flames attempted to illuminate him. “We have been eager to meet you, Senator.”

“Get away from me, you filthy Italian separatists!” Donatello said, knowing it was exactly what his captors expected him to say. He even let a bit of spit spray from his mouth for extra effect.

“I am afraid I am no Italian, nor a separatist. I merely wish to help you, Senator.” The man’s voice sounded as though it came from a corpse, his breath reeking of stale air. Donatello did his best not to gag.

“Only an Italian separatist would dare lay a hand on me.” Donatello knew his statement was false, but it would give the impression he wanted to give.

“I’m afraid you are wrong, my friend.” The man let out a short chuckle that sounded like bones scraping against a stone floor. “Or should I call you my foe? Your family has caused us many problems in the past. Perhaps only the Doukas family has surpassed your level of meddling.”

Finally, verification that his captors were who he thought they were. He feigned confusion, letting his lip twitch unnaturally. “The Cult? Not possible. Those fools are long gone.”

“Just like the mighty Chernobog, we endure,” the Cultist said, drawing so close that his corpse-like breath smothered Donatello like a mouldy blanket.

“What do you want with me?”

“Why, I merely wish to end old feuds. Your family need not be an enemy of ours. Our goals are alike, it would seem.”

“I will never trust you, cultist scum!” Donatello said, struggling with his bonds in a mock display of anger. He snarled and growled for added effect.

“Would you trust us if we promised you the downfall of Italy?” the Cultist said, pressing his fingers together like a spider testing its web.

The curiosity in Donatello’s eyes was not faked like his earlier emotions. Did the Cult truly wish to take down the Italian state? He had hoped that the destructive group had had such plans in motion, but had been uncertain. One could never know with a religious sect dedicated to some pagan god. “You intend to destroy the rebel state?”

“The Italian state is a festering boil that must be burst. Chernobog wishes it so.”

“You wish it returned to the Empire?”

The Cultist let out a long piercing laugh like a banshee shriek. “Of course not. We merely wish for the downfall of the current state. Increased efforts by your so-called Empire to reclaim the region would merely expedite our efforts.”

The Cultist moved closer to Donatello, kneeling down in front of him so they were face to face. “You see, we have common interests. We both want Italy destroyed. It would be in your best interests to help us. All we ask of you is a small favour and we can both see our goal accomplished”

Donatello’s pupils dilated, revealing his growing excitement at the prospect of a destroyed Italy. It was something he had longed for for quite some time. Even though he despised the Cult, he hated Italy even more. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. If he could turn the Cult against Italy, perhaps one day he could return home. Licking his lips, Donatello said, “What do you need me to do?”

Even though he could not see through the shadows of the Cultist’s hood, Donatello could somehow tell the man had a wicked grin on his face. The evil permeating from him was that palpable. “All I need is access to the Emperor. A brief meeting will do. He will come to no harm… well, mostly.”

Donatello cursed in his own head. Anything but that. He had hoped they would have asked for something else, something he was willing to give. Confidential documents the Empire had on Italy, money even, but not that. Never that. His doubt must have been visible in his expression for the Cultist returned to his feet and stepped back. Donatello cleared his throat and said, “I am not certain I can do that. I have not been close with the Emperor as of late. Are you sure there isn’t something else you’d prefer me to do?”

The Cultist remained still for several seconds. Sweat dripped down Donatello’s forehead and he gulped. He faked a twitch or two to hide his discomfort, but that didn’t last long when the Cultist suddenly burst out in wild laughter. The sharp squeaks of his laugh pierced Donatello’s eardrums. When the man finally stopped, he wagged a finger at the Senator and said, “You are good. Very good. My associates were convinced you were quite insane, but you’ve been fooling everyone this entire time. I, however, am not so easily fooled.”

The jig was up. Donatello let out a sigh as he relaxed his posture and expression, appearing sane for the first time in years. “I will not betray the Emperor.”

The Cultist pulled a blade from the folds of his robe and held it near Donatello’s face, even running it along his cheek. The man did not pierce Donatello’s flesh, but the Senator could feel the cold steel against his skin. After a few moments, the man pulled the knife away, but still held it in front of him and completely in view. “You are just as foolish with your loyalty as your ancestors, but that may not necessary interfere with the task at hand.”

The braziers hissed and popped as the Cultist slowly stepped around Donatello. He stopped behind him, out of the Senator’s sight. Donatello felt the man’s breath against his neck though, sending a chill down his spine. A tug behind him told him the man was cutting his bonds loose. “I will let you go this once, but only because you can still help us. All I ask of you is to to continue on the path you are on. Press your precious Emperor to pursue war with Italy. Perhaps one day you may reclaim your home, or perhaps our design will come to fruition before that day. But most of all, remember that Chernobog is watching.”

As Donatello opened his mouth to speak, a rag was pressed to his face. He inhaled a noxious scent and started the lose consciousness. The last thing he remember was a sack being pulled over his head.

((Private))

Just as Donatello lost consciousness, the Cultists heard the sound of flapping wings behind them, followed by a gust of wind which blew out all but one of the torches. Confused as to why the wind was blowing when they were far underground and nowhere near any windows, they did not see Wilhelm’s attack until it was too late.

One Cultist cried out, only to be silenced as his throat was slit open by Wilhelm’s dagger. Another turned to face the attacker, but all he saw was a faint outline of the angel. He emptied his pistol in Wilhelm’s direction, but the bullets stopped in midair before clattering to the ground. The Cultist dropped his gun, a look of panic on his face. He tried to run, but Wilhelm swiped his hand, and the Cultist slammed into the wall, breaking his neck in the process. Two more Cultists drew daggers and lunged at him, but he teleported away before they could reach him. Wilhelm materialized right behind them, stabbing one of them in the back and then slashing the neck of the other.

The angel felt somebody stab him in the back, but he didn’t feel any pain. He slowly turned around and pulled the dagger out of his back, the wound healing almost immediately. He faced the last Cultist, who backed away, his face completely white with terror.

Wilhelm’s eyes glowed bright blue as energy radiated from around him, his human body straining to contain his true angelic form. The light he emitted lit up the room even brighter than all of the torches could have. If the Cultist wasn’t too focused on Wilhelm himself, he would have noticed the angel casting a shadow of two large eagle wings on the far wall, though there were no physical wings.

“Blessed Peacock Angel, deliver me from harm…” muttered the Cultist.

“Chernobog isn’t really the Peacock Angel,” said Wilhelm, “Really, I’ve talked with him about it. But if you want him to deliver you from harm, I suppose I can help him out a bit.”

He grabbed the Cultist by the forehead and concentrated. The Cultist screamed as energy surged through his body, flames erupting from his eyes, nose, and mouth as his body was smote by the angel. After a few seconds, the Cultist collapsed, his body a charred hulk.

“Isn’t that what you guys want anyways?” said Wilhelm. “To kill everybody? Doesn’t that include you?”

He put away his dagger and turned back to Donatello, who was still tied to his chair. Wilhelm snapped his fingers, and the ropes binding the senator untied themselves. He picked up Donatello and teleported back to his hotel room in the Peloponnese, where he put him in his bed and wiped his memories of what had just happened with a tap on the forehead. He wouldn’t remember being abducted, only just having drunk a lot the night before and that his wife was probably angry at him.

Catania - 3 - 5 February of 1930
They believed him.He stole two or three medals from dead,and have led this battalion to few mansions,where old flag of Poland still waved.
No traitor escaped.Soldiers,who were told to kill Polish refugees,ironiously killed them because they believed.that all Poles were commies.
Vaderowsky was satisfied.After having last mansion burned,he “resigned”,leaving battalion to be the only ones accused of betrayal.After this dirty work
done,he killed Italian separatist council,that grew useless to Chairman.
Now,he stood near Mount Etna’s top.He looked down at lava,and smiled,with his blade covered in blood of hundreds.
Constantinople - 4 February of 1930
- So,Leonidas and Lena are children of you and my brother? - asked Pavlo Shelepov,looking at Helen.He was told by butler,that woman,who somehow appeared in duke’s mansion,was going to labor.But this woman,this humble woman was actualy Alexander Shelepov’s wife!
- Yes,mylord. - she responded,with twins in her arms. - He had gone on some socialist gathering in Sicilia…
- Wait,you meen that he’s now in the centre of soldier rebellion?! - shouted Pavlo,saying later:
- Leave your children to my wife,Eva von Vandenburg-Shelepova,she’ll look after them.We are going to Catania.
Catania - 6 February of 1930
General Vaderowsky was preparing report to Sidious.He knew that Konrad was in danger after battle with Varangians,and that Siedlcow would be dead,if not him,his apprentice.
Suddenly,zeppelin appeared just near mansion,where separatists previously hidden,and…Helen?Why she arrived to him?
- Hello,Sasha! - she said,with tired look on her face.
Vaderowsky processed this few seconds,before he realise to whom she said.But I’m not Shelepov anymore,he thought.
- What do you need there?
- I’m sorry…but your brother said things about you…Terrible,terrible things.He said that you led soldier uprising,and that you killed innocent people!
- That’s a lie!My loyalties are not within empire,but with you!Let’s unite together!Let’s kill emperor,kill Lithuanian chairman,and we will rule over united Europe!As you’ll wish!
- No,my dear,no! - she screamed,before she collapsed in front of him.
“She was in labor,she has no strength no,also,air here is less breathable than near sea.” - he thougth.Suddenly,another person have come from waiting zeppelin.Alexander’s twin…
-YOU! - screamed Vaderowsky,taking out his sword.Pavlo responded,by picking his hussar’s blade.
Twins engaged in sword combat,running near fire pit,but avoiding of pushing rival into volcano.
- You were the Picked-Out One! - shouted Pavlo. - You were supposed to advise Emperor,not trying to kill him!
- Your empire is weak,while Konrad Siedlcow offered me absolute…
- Who is that one?
- No matter!I’ll kill you,I’ll kill Emperor,I’ll kill Sidious.No person shall stop me! - roared Vaderowsky…missteping,and falling right into volcano.
“This is the end” - he realised.”Good bye,Helen,good bye,kids…wait,what?” - thought Shelepov,when his brother have thrown him a rope.Alexander catched it,when…
His boots made contact with lava.He started burning.
“CUURSE YOU PAVLOOOOOOOOO!!!” - shouted Vaderowsky,while seing,that his brother picked his unconscious wife,and their zeppelin had fled away.
few minutes later…
His legs were already burning.If not the material of rope,he could be now less than dust.Suddenly,another zeppelin,of sinister black colour,have appeared just above the volcano.Crew of zeppelin have attached rope to deck,allowing for Vaderowsky to climb on board,
when he climbed(and had his legs put in the water,before fire would catch on not-so-resistant jacket) he received look from Sidious.
- So,my comrade,you have your legs and left hand disabled.Don’t worry,we in Warsaw have perfect surgery…
Constantinople - 1 March of 1930
(From diary of Pavlo Shelepov)
Today was funeral of my brother’s wife.Her children are now considered my children,while her husband appears to be deceased.I’ve become new senator,instead of my brother.Surely,he died on Sicily.But what if not…
meanwhile…
Warsaw
Secret Medical Centre for Party members only
Vaderowsky groaned,when doctors were replacing his left arm(cut by Pavlo)with some crude mechanical device.He already had two simple prostethics(wooden and methal) instead of his legs,while his burned body,instead of being healed,was clad in leather armor,covered by Polish uniform.
Finally,when experimental scan revealed that lungs of ‘Lord’ were damaged,he was provided with simple breathing mask,attached to helmet.
Now,this new spawn of communism,General Vaderowsky,had been completed.
Sidious,Chairman and other Party staff watched in awe,as this new Commander had risen from surgery table.
- Where’s Helen? - he asked,heavy breathing. - And what happened to my Ukraine?!
- They’re both dead. - stated Chairman.
-NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!-Shouted Vaderowsky.As the story ends…

In the time since the last senate address, things had begun to improve in Aoteorea. The effects of Mávri Pémpti were lessened after the Imperial government had been allowed to assist in the situation, helping the Aoteorean government keep its bearings following such a crisis. Aoteoreans involved in commerce, such as the economists at the Kamiana University in Komnenion, collaborated significantly with the University of Constantinople in their efforts of understanding how crises like these occur, and how they can be prevented or alleviated, as well as develop economic policies for government and possible legal frameworks which could allow individuals partake of the business wealth of their respective government. With the EKA having managed to survive the crisis not only stronger but more popular than before, their unchallenged return to power in 1927 was expected by the masses. However, with this, the party had to consider its own economic policies - they were a party supportive of state capitalism, which meant that Imperial investment into the local economy had to be blocked. Kyrene and Manaaki were hesitant at first, since the Empire in of itself was still popular and they imagined that the people wouldn’t mind continued investment from their end. But, thinking on it harder, they consulted several economists to see if the situation had stabilized enough that Imperial investment would be unnecessary at this point - it had. So, thinking to the principles of the party, direct foreign investment into the local economy was officially blocked a month after they took power. A message was sent to the Empire proper a day earlier, informing them on this decision and hoping there were no hard felt feelings - whether this message arrived or not, they don’t know. The economists were right though - by 1931, Aoteorea’s economy had made vast progress in recovering, all thanks to the development of commercial thought.

With the situation under control, Nestorius, now 81, once more traveled to the mainland in the fall of 1930, this time hoping to fully enjoy his time back in Greece, and to see the senators one last time. He was soon joined by Kyrene and Timon, who arrived in the mainland sometime in November. Everyone at the HQ was elated to see the two, not having seen them in so, so long. They commented how much Timon had grown since the last time they saw him, and they would all collectively celebrate his 17th birthday that December. Hearing that there was going to be a senate address soon, ol’ Ness smiled softly, looking over to his wife and son. They knew they couldn’t pass this opportunity up.

-–

1st of January, 1931

“So much has changed, but it feels so familiar,” Kyrene commented, as she, Nestor, Timon and Franco headed for the Senate to join for the address later. Nestor chuckled at her comment, stating that “he felt the same way when he was back five years ago.”

Timon felt nervous over attending the address, since this would be the first time he’d be there as an adult, doing adult things, like politics. Franco assured the young lad that there is no reason to feel nervous, revealing how he felt the same way back when he first began representing Aoteorea and Nestorius while the latter went off to his new Imperial-given position. Timon just gave him a weak smile, as Nestorius and Kyrene stood at familiar areas, close to one another, remembering the good old days.

Soon, they arrived at the front. The guardsmen were surprised to see the elder Nestor and his family, but were glad to have seen him once more. The gang took off their coats, and headed for the chambers, where Franco grabbed three extra chairs for the others to sit in, though Nestorius insisted his son sit in his senatorial seat.


The Address

Senators,

We have long neglected to give updates regarding the royal family. Prince Alvértos married Theodora of Thesaloniki in 1923. They have had two daughters: Theodora, who was born in 1926, and Margaríta, born in 1930. Princess Maria married in 1922, and has born two children: Michael, born in 1923, and Mark, born in 1924. Prince Enrikos has given up his affair, and is drinking less. The Imperial Tours We sent him on have done much good.

And the rumors of Our ill-health are entirely incorrect. Yes, Our doctors sent Us to the Bahamas for a leave, but We are perfectly healthy and fit. Indeed during these last five years, We have effectively kept the Empire from violence, even as other nations waged endless war on another.

1926 saw some fascist organizations again beginning to militarize. But after the last rising, they are no threat to the Empire.

Meanwhile, the various manufacturers of the Empire began providing improved uniforms for the legions.

We took heed of the economic difficulties in Aotearoa and tasked the University of Constantinople with understanding what could cause such difficulties.

When Scandinavia asked Us to help them in a war of conquest, We refused. Too much blood was being spilt after the ‘War to End All Wars’, and We would not be a part of it.

Of course, other powers did not agree with the view of the world. Russia did come to the defense of Poland-Lithuania.

As economists came to better understand what could cause various crisis, We tasked them with discovering how they could be prevented or alleviated.

Slowly, the bureaucracy took less extreme political views.

By 1927, aircraft manufacturers had expanded their production enough that We could support fully-supplied air wings, so We finished recruiting them.

As the economists devised economic policies for the government, they also suggested legal frameworks that could allow individuals to partake of the business wealth of the Empire.

During 1927, Aeteorea’s Labour party took power within their government, blocking direct investment by the Empire into their economy. However, by 1931 they had made vast progress in recovering.

While these years passed peacefully for the Empire, they did not do so for Germany. Hungary saw their war with Russia as an opportunity and sought to take more land from Germany.

As did Scandinavia.

Hungary and Russia succeeded in their wars against Germany.

When the legal framework for mutual funds had been created, We began crafting laws to allow and properly regulate factories employing several shifts of workers.

We continued to have difficulties from various fascists groups during this time. But truly they can be reigned in.

After the factories were able to use multiple shifts, We asked the legions to finish incorporating the lessons learned during the Time of Troubles.

After the legions had finished their work, the businessmen of the Empire pointed out that the economy could greatly benefit from allowing the market to determine exchange rates for currencies. We began creating a legal framework for an exchange that could handle this.

And there were various improvements in the instruments of industry and war during this time.

Finally, during 1930 Ukraine fought to take land from Poland-Lithuania. Russia came to Poland-Lithuania’s defense, eventually annexing Ukraine entirely.

The Senate’s world map is being updated to reflect the various changes in the world over the last five years.


Senate Responses

Kyrene sighed when His Highness finished his review of the last five years. “It seems they didn’t get our message,” she muttered under her breath sadly. Nestorius felt nostalgic as he hadn’t attended an address in quite a while. Timon cautiously nodded his head as the last five years were discussed, fascinated how the world around the Empire was still filled with so much conflict. Franco sighed as Kyrene did, but not for the same reasons - rather, he had kept the senatorial seat warm long enough for another Thaddai to sit on it.

“How warm’s the seat?” Franco asked Timon.

“Pretty warm. Why?”

Franco just giggled. Timon didn’t get it and just turned towards the address. All of a sudden, Nestorius stood up:

“I must first thank His Royal Highness personally for the Empire’s assistance in Aoteorea! If it were not for the work done by our respective universities and the Empire’s investments, who knows whether or not we would’ve recovered as fast as we did! But I must say; I am shocked and appalled to see the rise of conflict from these so-called ‘fascists’. Paramilitary groups will only harm the peace and stability found on these great lands which consider His Majesty as its head, yet they continue rise up and march, speaking against the freedoms we hold dearest, rejecting reason for extremism! Fascism is as great a threat as communism! How long will we have to wait for the fascists to unite as the communists did all those years ago and threaten the Queen of Cities?! I swear to the Lord and to His Grace, as long as I still live, this corruption and heresy of liberalism and socialism, the shadow of communism which had sprung from its fallen ashes, this totalitarian, ultra-nationalist ideology will not rise to see itself in power, not in Komnenion, not in Roma, and certainly not in Konstantinopolis!” he avowed in front of the Emperor and the other senators.

Franco did not expect such an explosive rant, Kyrene felt the emotion within his declaration, remembering the time of Tane, and Timon was agasp, not having seen his father in his true element, away from the public and from the papers, within the senate doing what he did for the longest time, next to his governorship in Naples, of course. One thing was for certain however - everyone knew Nestorius and his family were visiting them!

Senator Thaddas, Aotearoa has truly been demonstrating its strength these last years. We are proud of the Aotearoans, and of your family’s guidance of them. As for the fascists, they can have their silly marches. Like so many ideologies before them, they are mellowing after the more extreme members rebelled and were put down. Communists and liberals are no longer threats, and neither are fascists. Indeed, they even now have a Senator to represent them. The good parts of their ideology will make the Empire stronger, and the foul parts will continue to fade.

Nestorius was taken aback by the Emperor’s comments related to fascism within the Empire. He looked left and right, hoping to see the fascist senator…. so that he could apologize for his ignorance on the state of Imperial fascism.

“I was unaware that we had a fascist among our ranks, and that the extremism I was familiar with had begun to arrode in face of proper moderation. I would like to apologize for my ignorance on the matter,” he bowed to the Emperor and to the rest of the senate.

Senator, We admire your passion and restraint. There is no need to apologize, but We accept the intent of your words.

Senators, thank you for your time.


After the Address

((Private))

As usual, Theodora got up early in the morning to get ready for the Senate session. She ate a light breakfast, drank a couple cups of coffee, and left her apartment, grabbing a few letters from her mailbox on her way out. Most of them came from one person, allegedly a brother of that Russian “senator.” Speaking of which, she’d read that he had been killed in some freak accident somewhere and that his brother had taken his senatorial position (good riddance, she thought). She would not change her policies towards the newcomer. He seemed just like his brother. She made a note to herself to deal with him later.

As usual, she walked from her apartment to the palace, cutting through Augustaeon as she usually did. Unlike last time, she didn’t encounter anybody of note as she walked through the square, which was probably for the best.

She arrived in the Senate and took her seat with the other cabinet ministers as the national anthem played, followed by a simple ceremony in which the Emperor formally opened the Senate session. Then the actual meeting began.

There were some familiar faces sitting around her, with some new additions. Nestorius, her old colleague, had brought his family with him. Other old senators had also brought their adult sons and grandsons, wanting to give their heirs experience and a higher chance that their applications would be approved. A few even brought their daughters, and when she asked why they replied that she was a role model for the young women. She was a bit flattered. She never thought of herself as a role model.

She noticed that there was one senator absent, and it wasn’t the Russian, which slightly disappointed her. It was Donatello. He hadn’t appeared in public for a while now, she recalled, and he hadn’t issued any formal statements in the last few weeks. Maybe he was taking a vacation? But then he would have had to have filled out the required paperwork and notify the appropriate authorities of his intent to take a leave of absence from the Senate. And he would have sent a substitute senator to represent him.

After that day’s session had concluded, the senators got up to leave. She quickly made her way to Donatello’s apartment just to check in on him. There, she found that the apartment had been abandoned for quite some time. It looked like nobody had lived in there for at least a couple weeks, and it looked like he had left in a very hasty fashion. Maybe he was on vacation? But then why would he leave so suddenly and without warning?

“Don’t worry,” said a voice behind her, “He’s fine.”

She spun around and leveled her pistol at Wilhelm’s head.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “What do you want?”

Wilhelm sheepishly put his hands over his head. “You know those bullets can’t harm me,” he said, “But I’m not here to harm you. I’m just letting you know that Donatello’s fine.”

“You know where he is?” said Theodora.

“He’s in the Peloponnese,” said Wilhelm, “Busy drinking his days away and rambling about how Italy must be destroyed. But he’s fine. Other than a small incident in which he was captured by Cultists–”

“Cultists?!” said Theodora. “Again?”

“I took care of that cell,” said Wilhelm, “They won’t be bothering him again for some time. Unless another cell decides it’s worth the effort to try and abduct him again…”

“What do they want with him?” said Theodora.

“Apparently they want him to become an informant for them,” said Wilhelm, “To give them access to the Emperor for some reason. In exchange they claim to have the power to bring down the Italian rebels.”

“And what did he say?” said Theodora.

“Obviously he refused,” said Wilhelm, “And then I killed them.”

“Why couldn’t you just kill them all?” said Theodora. “It would save us all a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t want to interfere with the natural progression of events too much,” said Wilhelm, “And I can’t locate the main cells. They seem to have cast some kind of angel warding to prevent me from sensing them.”

“But what do you want me to do?” said Theodora.

“Just protect the Emperor,” said Wilhelm, “I’ll try to deal with the Cult wherever I can. And don’t worry too much about Donatello and the other senators. I’ll make sure no harm comes to any of them.”

“Why should I trust you?” said Theodora. “I don’t know who you are and what your intentions are.”

“You do know me,” said Wilhelm, “It’s just that you may have forgotten me. And if I wanted you dead, I would have done so by now. We’re on the same side here.”

And Theodora was alone in the room.

-–

After the end of the next day’s Senate session, Nestorius ambushed her at the door as she was about to leave.

“Ah, Theodora!” he exclaimed, hugging her, “My old friend. How are you doing?”

“Fine,” said Theodora, “It’s good to see you’re in good health.”

She noticed Timon standing next to him.

“I see you’ve met my son, Timon,” said Nestorius, “He just turned 17 a couple weeks ago, and we thought we’d celebrate by taking him to the Senate session. Best to start them when they’re young, right?”

“Of course,” said Theodora, “I remember when my father made me sit in on Senate sessions a long time ago. Of course the Cult had to go ruin things but still…”

Both of them laughed.

“So…” Theodora added. “How are things in Aoteorea?”

Nestorius sighed following his laughter. “Things have been going well,” he stated, as Kyrene entered the scene.

“Kyrene over here almost died of stress because of the crisis we had,” he said jokingly, prompting his wife to chuckle.

“Yeah, it was unexpected, that’s for sure, but as the Emperor himself said, Aoteorea’s recovering nicely… though I wish that message we had sent him explaining why we blocked direct Imperial investment had reached them,” she sighed, shrugging.

Timon watched as his parents enjoyed themselves with an old friend, slightly nervous looking following his father’s statement on starting young. Nestorius noticed this, and pulled him in with a side hug. “Oh, come now boy, you know I’m right,” he said with a smile, prompting Timon to nod subtly.

As Nestorius hugged it out with his son, Kyrene continued speaking with Theodora: “How’ve things been over here at the mainland since we left?” she asked, “I’ve been so busy with my own work that I’ve hardly followed what’s been happening, beyond the last five years, of course.”

“I understand the need for Aotearoa to block direct investment,” said Theodora, “I didn’t get why the Emperor didn’t understand. I guess I’ll bring up the matter at the next cabinet briefing.”

As he hugged his son, Kyrene spoke up, asking about the mainland.

“Oh, the mainland’s fine,” said Theodora, “We haven’t made that much progress against the rebel scum, but we’ll deal with them eventually. Not much happened here in the last five years besides the occasional fascist demonstration, to be honest. The rest of Europe, though…Germany managed to get into wars with all of its neighbors, and the Russians have gotten involved. Ukraine’s gone and Germany’s in the process of being carved up. It’s only a matter of time before the fighting there spreads to the Empire, but we’re doing everything we can to be ready. We’re modernizing and expanding the armed forces, and the Ministry of Security’s gained more funding to combat radicals and separatists. Speaking of which, the Cult hasn’t done anything recently. We think they’re either disbanding, which is unlikely, or lying low and preparing for a future attack.”

“The Cult?” said Kyrene. “What would they want with us? We destroyed most of their organization.”

“I don’t know,” said Theodora, “But there are still Cultists out there. A source told me that they may be trying to blackmail or coerce senators into helping them.”

“No senator would betray the Empire to help the Cult,” said Kyrene.

“You never know,” said Theodora, “By the way, have you heard from Donatello? He’s not home and he hasn’t shown up in the Senate at all.”

“We haven’t really caught up with the Senate in the last few years besides the most important events,” said Kyrene, “But Donatello is missing? Could the Cult be behind this?”

“My source told me he’s fine,” said Theodora, “He’s probably on vacation. I’m sending some agents to go check in on him as we speak.”

She sighed. “But other than that, not much happened here. A couple weird things happened though. I’ve had some weird dreams lately. Feels like a memory, but I am sure it never happened to me. In my dream, I’m in my house, and the other senators are there for that social gathering around ten years ago, but instead of proceeding as expected the Cult attacks, and then this strange man shows up and defeats them before disappearing again.”

“It’s probably just a dream,” said Kyrene, “Dreams have a tendency to feel like a memory.”

“I would have thought that,” said Theodora, “That is, if I hadn’t met that man five years ago while walking to the Senate.”

“You met him,” said Kyrene.

“Yeah,” said Theodora, “He said he knew me, but I never met him before. He had this weird accent and spoke strangely. He also disappeared right before my eyes. Twice. What’s going on with me? Am I going mad?”

“I don’t think you’re going mad,” said Kyrene, “I myself feel like I just see people disappear in front of my eyes, but then I realize that stress at my age just blurs my vision,” she revealed.

She huddled the senator close to her, as to avoid her husband and son overhearing the two. “I’m not getting any younger, Dora, and I worry if my son will be able to not only inherit the estate, but keep the islands safe,” Kyrene expressed her worries.

“Timon is a good lad, but he’s timid. As much as he can prepare himself for the future, I fear the stress might just end up killing him if he is as he is on in Tomorrowland, and that’s not without commenting on whom the Emperor may choose to give the title of Exarch next.”

The sack was pulled off of Donatello’s head and he blinked as light bombarded his eyes for the first time in hours. He had been grabbed suddenly and without warning while enjoying some time off in the Peloponnese. All he recalled was a rag being shoved into his face and the smell of some foul substance before he lost consciousness. After his eyes adjusted to the light, noticeably the light of several flaming braziers, he took note of the exotic religious symbols scrawled on the floors around him. He could feel rope binding him to the chair he was sitting in. The Senator had a better idea of who his captors were. He had expected them to come for him much sooner. Most strangely though, he had an overwhelming sense of deja vu, as though he had been in this exact position before. How odd.

“Good, you have awakened,” a voice said from just behind the light of the braziers. A man in a black robe stepped forward, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood even as the nearby flames attempted to illuminate him. “You thought we wouldn’t come back for you, Senator, but you were wrong.”

“Get away from me, you filthy Italian separatists!” Donatello said, knowing it was exactly what his captors expected him to say. He even let a bit of spit spray from his mouth for extra effect.

“I do not have time for your insane antics, Senator. You have a debt to pay.” The man’s voice sounded as though it came from a corpse, his breath reeking of stale air. Donatello did his best not to gag.

“I owe you Italian separatists nothing.” Donatello tried to keep the ferocity in his voice, but found it difficult as he battled with his own confusion. What debt was this man talking about?

“I am no Italian separatist, as you well know.” The man let out a snakelike hiss. “You must pay for the death of my brethren.”

Donatello did not need to feign confusion, for he was thoroughly confused by this man. “The Cult? Not possible. Those fools are long gone.”

“No thanks to you,” the Cultist said, drawing so close that his corpse-like breath smothered Donatello like a mouldy blanket.

“What do you want with me?”

“We had hoped you would accept our offer, but instead your murdered my brethren. That cannot go unpunished.”

Donatello was ready to struggle with his bonds in a mock display of anger, but found himself caught off guard by that response. “What murder? I prefer to keep my distance from you miserable bunch.”

The Cultist pulled a blade from the folds of his robe and held it near Donatello’s face, even running it along his cheek. The man did not pierce Donatello’s flesh, but the Senator could feel the cold steel against his skin. After a few moments, the man pulled the knife away, but still held it in front of him and completely in view. “You are bold, Senator. You slaughter disciples of Chernobog within our own sanctum and then have the audacity to act as if you are innocent. Now, we are going to have a little chat about the offer we gave you, but first your punishment.”

The braziers hissed and popped as the Cultist slowly stepped towards it. He ran the blade of his knife through the flames, watching the metal change colours as it absorbed the heat. When the knife was practically steaming, the Cultist approached. Without warning, he grabbed Donatello’s left wrist with his free hand and stabbed the knife down. It slid right through his pinky, severing the finger from his hand. Donatello let out a scream as pain shot through him. The Cultist kept the blade in place, burning the wound where the pinky once was. The smell of burning flesh assaulted Donatello’s nose, mixed with the taste of blood for he had bitten his tongue when the knife had cut into his flesh. The pain was agonizing and he swore he’d faint.

Eventually the Cultist pulled away, taking the knife with him. The joint where his pinky once rested was blackened and charred, cauterized by the hot blade. The pain was slowly subsiding, but Donatello felt himself growing lightheaded. Part of him hoped he’d faint to get out of this situation.

“Now you know that we mean business,” the Cultist said, brandishing the knife before Donatello. “That does not mean that we can’t work together still. We have a common goal in the destruction of Italy.”

The curiosity in Donatello’s eyes was not faked. Did the Cult truly wish to take down the Italian state? He had hoped that the destructive group had had such plans in motion, but had been uncertain. One could never know with a religious sect dedicated to some pagan god. “You intend to destroy the rebel state?”

“The Italian state is an abomination that must be purged. Chernobog wishes it so.”

“You wish it returned to the Empire?”

The Cultist let out a long piercing laugh like a banshee shriek. “Definitely not. We merely want the current state destroyed. If your Emperor tries to reclaim the region, it would merely help our cause.”

The Cultist moved closer to Donatello, kneeling down in front of him so they were face to face. “You see, we have the same goal in mind. We both want Italy destroyed. It would beneficial to you if we worked together. We just need you to do one small thing.”

Donatello’s pupils dilated, revealing his growing excitement at the prospect of a destroyed Italy. It was something he had longed for for quite some time. He even forgot the pain of the loss of his finger. Even though he despised the Cult, he hated Italy even more. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. If he could turn the Cult against Italy, perhaps one day he could return home. Licking his lips, Donatello said, “What do you need me to do?”

Even though he could not see through the shadows of the Cultist’s hood, Donatello could somehow tell the man had a wicked grin on his face. The evil permeating from him was that palpable. “I need access to the Emperor, just for a short time. I won’t kill him, if that is what you’re worried about, although I can’t promise I won’t do something else.”

Donatello cursed in his own head. Anything but that. He had hoped they would have asked for something else, something he was willing to give. Confidential documents the Empire had on Italy, money even, but not that. Never that. His doubt must have been visible in his expression for the Cultist returned to his feet and stepped back. Donatello cleared his throat and said, “I am not certain I can do that. I have not been close with the Emperor as of late. Are you sure there isn’t something else you’d prefer me to do?”

The Cultist remained still for several seconds. Sweat dripped down Donatello’s forehead and he gulped, expecting the man to come at him with the knife again. If necessary, he’d sacrifice a few more fingers for the Emperor. He faked a twitch or two to hide his discomfort, but that didn’t last long when the Cultist suddenly burst out in wild laughter. The sharp squeaks of his laugh pierced Donatello’s eardrums. When the man finally stopped, he wagged a finger at the Senator and said, “I must say, you are one convincing liar. We were all convinced you were insane, but it’s all been an act. Well done.”

The jig was up. Donatello let out a sigh as he relaxed his posture and expression, appearing sane for the second time in years. “I will not betray the Emperor.”

“Your loyalty to your Emperor is sickening, but we can work around that.”

The braziers hissed and popped again as the Cultist slowly stepped around Donatello. He stopped behind him, out of the Senator’s sight. Donatello felt the man’s breath against his neck though, sending a chill down his spine. A tug behind him told him the man was cutting his bonds loose. “I will set you free, but only because you are better to us alive than dead. All you need to do is keep up that act of yours. Push the Empire towards war with Italy. Maybe you’ll be able to go home someday, or maybe we shall triumph instead. But most of all, remember that Chernobog is watching.”

As Donatello opened his mouth to speak, a rag was pressed to his face. He inhaled a noxious scent and started the lose consciousness. The last thing he remembered was a sack being pulled over his head before he woke up back in the Peloponnese.

Donatello woke up in his hotel room again. He was quite dazed, but he was also aware he wasn’t alone. He backed up against the wall after noticing the man sitting in one of his chairs.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!” he screamed. “HAVE I GIVEN YOU ENOUGH?!”

“I’m not with the Cult,” said the man, getting up from the chair.

“Then who are you?!” demanded Donatello, reaching for something to defend himself with.

The man snapped his fingers, and an invisible force slammed into Donatello, pinning him against the wall. “Just call me Wilhelm,” said the man, “I’m trying to save your life, but you keep getting yourself into trouble with the Cult.”

He tapped Donatello’s hand, and the cut off finger regenerated, with nothing to show that it was ever cut off.

Donatello stared at him. “Who…who are you?” he asked, now completely shocked.

“I’m an angel of the Lord,” said Wilhelm, “And I’m getting tired of cleaning up your messes.”

Donatello, no longer pinned to the wall, collapsed on the ground. When he got to his feet, he found he was alone.

((Elsewhere))

The second Cultist cell, apparently, hadn’t learned the lessons taught to the first one. As they were busy packing up and getting ready to relocate, they heard the sound of a high-pitched ringing. The flames in the braziers suddenly blew out, though it seemed that the air itself was radiating a bright white light which only grew brighter and brighter. One Cultist clutched his head and screamed in agony, blood leaking from his eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. The other Cultists followed suit. Soon all but one of them were dead, their insides scorched by the sight of Wilhelm’s angelic form.

Wilhelm returned to physical form and looked around him. He walked over to the one Cultist who had managed to survive, though his eyes had been burned out.

“I should have left one of the Cultists in the other cell alive,” he said, “When will you guys learn to stop abducting senators?!”

He shook the Cultist, who only murmured something in Russian.

“I can speak Russian, you know!” he shouted. “I could kill you right now, but I don’t want to. You will tell the other Cultists that the senators are under my protection. Any Cultist who tries to harm a senator will meet the fate that your colleagues have met. Any cell that tries to go after a senator will be completely wiped out, or I am not an angel of the Lord. You understand?”

The Cultist nodded frantically.

“Good.” Wilhelm teleported away.

Donatello didn’t know what was going on anymore and didn’t quite care. What he did care about is that his finger was suddenly back and that wasn’t good. What would the Cult think if they saw that the finger had grown back? Likely they’d suspect him of having some supernatural ally or powers and deem him a threat. He preferred not to paint a target on his back. No, he needed them to think he was being compliant, that he’d continue to push his agenda and help them. Of course he had no intention of letting them win in the end, but it didn’t hurt to use them for his own ends. For now though, he had to deal with the little problem at hand.

Scrounging around the kitchen of his hotel room, Donatello finally came across a large butcher knife. Yes, that’d do quite nicely. One clean chop and his finger would be off. In preparation for his chop, he placed the knife on the stove and watched it heat up. He hoped it’d be hot enough to cauterize the wound afterwards. He need to make the wound look as similar to what it was before and avoid bleeding out. When it was nice and hot, he rested his left hand down on a chopping board and held the knife above it. At first he had it pointing forward, but then shifted it to point right for a better cutting angle. He wanted it to go as smoothly as possible. For good measure, he grabbed a dishcloth, scrunched it up, and shoved it in his mouth to avoid biting his tongue.

Donatello stood there for a few moments, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He was trying his best to psych himself up, but it was not working. He had to place the knife back on the stove to heat it up again because he waited too long. It was not the best solution, but he needed to do it to keep the Cult from growing suspicious. What was a single finger compared to the preservation and restoration of the Empire? He briefly considered the fact that he might actually be going insane, but tossed that thought aside after considering the situation. The Cult was a deplorable organization, but he needed them to get Italy back. He’d do anything for Italy. Well almost anything, thinking back to his refusal to betray the Emperor. A man had to have some boundaries after all.

Once the knife was hot again, Donatello picked it up and held it above his left hand. He did a few practice swings, moving the knife close enough to singe the hairs on his finger. After taking in a very deep breath, it came time for the moment of truth. Yelling into the dishcloth in his mouth, Donatello swung the butcher knife down and severed his pinky from his hand. The pain was excruciating and he pulled his injured hand back without meaning to. Blood spurted from the wound and the Senator quickly pressed the hot knife to the wound. It burned like hell, but he knew it had to be done. His teeth were gritted together so hard he swore he’d bite right through the dishcloth. After the knife started to cool down and the feeling in his hand had practically given away, Donatello felt the handle slip from his right hand. He took one look at his re-injured hand, which thankfully was not bleeding but was now missing a finger, and promptly fainted.

Constantinople - 1 of January,1931
Pavlo Shelepov was seating near fireplace,with book in hands.His children now listened education programs on radio,while his wife,Eva von Vandenburg Jr.,attended some Congress of German èmigrès,whatever it was.
The book,however,was interesting,it was written by Ukrainian exile politician Dmytro Dontsov,and claimed,that only nationalist state can be perfect government form for Ukraine.While Pavlo disapproved of writer’s opinion,that Ukraine also must be republic,he was interested by every sign of Ukrainian activity here,in Roman Empire.
Suddenly,the phone rang.He picked it,and asked:
- Hello,who calls?
- Good evening,senator.I heard today was your first New Year’s Senate session?
- Yes.But what you want to ask,and,well,who are you?
- I’m your doom,traitor of Slavic people.Hail the Chernobog!
Conversation ended,when suddenly loud explosion have hit house opposite the street.
“Fool”,thought Shelepov,”this cultists sometimes even can’t attack the needed house”.All in all,it was a disaster,so Pavlo phoned to Ministry of Security.

Wilhelm teleported back into Donatello’s room and noticed he had managed to get his finger cut off again. He sighed. Realizing this man was as stubborn as the Archangel Michael, he at least healed the wound, but he did not regenerate the finger. This senator better have a good reason to cut off his finger again. Wilhelm would heal it at a later time. He had other things to handle, though, namely targeting all of the remaining Cult cells in Greece. He teleported away.

((Later))

Theodora sat at her desk, looking over the reports on recent Cult activity in Greece, namely two cells in the Peloponnese that were completely destroyed, when the intercom buzzed.

“Sir, it’s Senator Shepolov,” said her assistant, “He wants to speak with you.”

“Tell him that I’m not available to take his call,” said Theodora.

“He’s saying something about a Cult attack targeting him,” said the assistant, his voice a bit worried.

“Notify local police to check in on him, but that’s it,” said Theodora, “And don’t tell them to tell him that I sent them.”

The intercom shut off.

“You know, when you really don’t like someone, it shows,” said Wilhelm, teleporting into a chair in one corner of the office.

“Why are you here?” she muttered.

“Oh, just to help out a bit.” Wilhelm snapped his fingers, and a small file appeared on her desk.

She flipped through the file, finding it to contain information on various Cult cells throughout Greece and a few neighboring provinces, including their size, activities, and plans.

“Where did you get this?” said Theodora.

“I’m an angel, remember?” said Wilhelm. “I can just teleport almost anywhere. Oh, I also took out those two Peloponnesian cells for you. No need to thank me. But you might want to act fast before the others find out.”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Theodora.

“The Cult must be destroyed,” said Wilhelm, “And I’m helping you do that.”

He teleported away.

Theodora tapped her intercom again. “Basil?” she asked. “I’m going to need as many Athanatoi assault teams as possible ready to ship out to Greece in an hour. I have a lead on quite a few Cult cells.”

“Got it,” said Basil.

By the end of the day, no less than twenty Cult cells in Greece had been eliminated, their members either killed or captured. More raids were planned in Illyria, Anatolia, Dacia, and Syria, with the first few in those provinces already meeting with success. One or two Greek cells might have slipped through the cracks, but the Cult’s presence in the heart of the Empire had been decisively shattered. Never again would they threaten the capital or any senator house gatherings–wait, why was she thinking that the Cult attacked her social event from over ten years ago? That never happened.

While the rest of the Ministry celebrated the victory, attributing most of their successes to her uncanny ability to find and destroy Cult cells, and prepared for the probably coming awards and promotions, she retreated to her apartment and called up Kyrene.

“Hello, Kyrene?” she said. “Want to meet up tomorrow? I need your advice.”

After expressing her worries to the senator, Kyrene was tapped on the shoulder by her husband Nestorius, who told her that they needed to get home. The two and Timon said their goodbyes, telling Theodora that she could call them anytime, since they’ll be in the capital until the end of February. With that, the three returned to the Thaddai estate, the Aotearoan Representitive HQ. There, Nestor expressed his plans of getting the HQ its own building within the capital, located near the estate, as to allow for it to not only have more space finally, but to free up the estate for the future. While most were enthusiastic over the idea, Timon was still nervous, thinking why things were moving so quickly for him.

Later, Kyrene heard a ring on the phone. As the others were occupied with some unrelated business, she went ahead and picked it up, surprised to hear that the senator had chosen to call them so soon.

“Oh, um, hello!” she replied, not having expected this. “Yeah, we can meet up if you want. Any place in particular?”

“Perhaps Augustaeon Square?” said Theodora.

“Sure,” said Kyrene.

“See you then,” said Theodora, hanging up.

The next day

Theodora sat at a bench, waiting for Kyrene to show up. She had taken every precaution to make sure nobody would try to interrupt the conversation. Police officers and undercover Athanatoi had been strategically stationed around her, looking out for Cultists and unscrupulous reporters alike.

Kyrene sat down next to her. “Morning,” she said, “Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yeah,” said Theodora, “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I keep having those dreams about my house event from ten years ago, only instead of what happened I ‘remember’ the Cult attacking.”

“Like I said, dreams can feel very real at times,” said Kyrene.

“But I met that man again,” said Theodora, “He showed up in my office and gave me information on the Cult. Information that actually helped me destroy many Cult cells. He was there, and then he wasn’t. He disappeared right in front of my eyes again. What’s going on here?”

“I don’t think you’re mad, Dora,” said Kyrene, “But I don’t know what to make of a man who just disappears. Are you sure he did disappear?”

“He did,” said Theodora, “I’m sure of it. But who is he? And what’s his connection to that event ten years ago?”

She turned to Kyrene. “You have some friends who attended my house gathering,” she said, “Did they tell you or Nestorius anything similar to what I am experiencing?”

Kyrene thought for a moment.

“As far as I recall, they only mentioned attending your house gathering, and that was about ten years ago,” she revealed, hoping she hadn’t disappointed her friend. “If you want, I could give them a quick call with a phone booth and ask them personally,” she suggested.

“Sure, go ahead,” said Theodora, nodding to a nearby phone booth, “It’s just that there may be something more to that than we thought.”

“You’re right,” said a voice next to her.

Both of them turned to Theodora’s left, finding Wilhelm sitting there.

Theodora turned back to Kyrene. “I don’t think you’re going to need to call now.”

Kyrene felt smeckledorfed at the sight of Wilhelm. Even as Theodora made her comment, she just continued to “uuhhhh” with an open mouth. This definitely confirmed her suspicions that Theodora was not going mad. She did wonder why she didn’t notice him earlier.

Theodora noticed Kyrene struggling to comprehend how someone just appeared right in front of her.

She turned back to Wilhelm. “Really?” she said. “Don’t you have better things to do than stalk senators?”

“Sort of,” said Wilhelm, “But I’ve got some time to spare. I believe Theodora has introduced me to some degree?”

Kyrene nodded.

“Good,” said Wilhelm, “Now, let me make this brief. I’m an angel.”

“An…angel,” said Kyrene, “Really?”

Wilhelm’s eyes briefly flashed bright blue.

“That explains a lot,” said Theodora, “But if you’re an angel, why bother us? Don’t you have other things to do?”

“Well, it’s a long story, but I’m stuck here,” said Wilhelm, “Don’t ask how or why. I’m just stuck here. While I’m here, though, I decided I’d give a helping hand to your Empire. Reminds me a lot about one of my favorite places.”

“Wait,” said Theodora, “What does all this have to do with my dream?”

“What dream?” said Wilhelm.

“Ten years ago, I invited the senators over to my estate for a social event,” said Theodora, “Nothing happened that day, except for me catching a few Cultists outside. But lately I’ve been having dreams where those Cultists attacked the senators, only for you to stop them. Then the dream ended.”

Wilhelm sighed. “I should have been more careful,” he muttered.

“What?” said Kyrene.

“That dream…” said Wilhelm. “It really did happen. The Cult did attack ten years ago. That’s when I showed up here. I then prevented the attack from beginning by giving you the information necessary to find and arrest those Cultists.”

“That explains everything,” Theodora realized, “You changed history?”

“Just one day,” said Wilhelm, “Thought it would be a one-off favor, but after seeing how obsessed the Cult was with destroying you all, I decided to help you fight them.”

“I’m not mad!” Theodora exclaimed.

“Calm down,” said Kyrene.

“So you’re helping us deal with the Cult,” said Theodora.

“Sure,” said Wilhelm, “Though I prefer to just let you do most of the work. I don’t want to interfere too much while I’m here. I’m just making sure you senators stay out of trouble. Although you guys are proving very difficult. I had to rescue Favero from two separate Cult abductions and healed his finger, only for him to cut it off again. He’s fine, for now.”

“But why?” said Kyrene. “Why are all of us so important?”

Wilhelm hesitated. “There’s something big coming,” he said, “And you’re all going to be part of it.”

And he was gone again.

“Really?” Theodora muttered.

Kyrene just sat there, bemused by what she had just witnessed. First off, angels exist. Second off, angels can change history. Third off, this angel sounded like German was its mother tongue. Fourth off, he decided to help them fight the Cult for some reason. Fifth off, her head was going to hurt from all this.

As she kept thinking about it though, Wilhelm’s last words kept ringing in her head. She turned towards Theodora.

“Dora, remember when I told you the worries I had related to my son?” she said worryingly.

“Yeah?” Theodora responded.

“What the angel guy said about there being something big coming and how we’re all going to be a part of it isn’t helping in alleviating these worries.”

Theodora nodded. “I understand,” she said, “But I think I know someone who can help.”

“That angel again?” said Kyrene.

“No, not him,” said Theodora, “We don’t know enough about him to trust him. But I do know someone I can trust. You free next week to meet at Ministry of Security headquarters?”

“Possibly,” said Kyrene, “But why the Ministry of Security headquarters?”

“Because she’s a Cult target,” said Theodora, “And she has to be kept under heavy guard for her own protection. So, next week?”

Constantinople - 3 January of 1931
Pavlo Shelepov felt relieved,when police solved the incident with suicidal Cultist in Pavlo’s neighborhood. Shelepov , after reading the rest of Dontsov’s book,got an idea.What about founding of organization,let’s call it Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists,OUN,that will fight for freedom of Ukraine(under Roman-aligned monarchy , of course)?He wasn’t sure,how to put Rome at war with Russia,but he knew,that Ukraine must be liberated.

“Sure?” Kyrene said in an unsure tone. “I don’t know how fitting of me it would be to join you in something so serious, but if you insist,” she commented.

Constantinople - 2 January of 1931
Pavlo with children walked on promenade near Marmara Sea.The Golden Horn was increasingly beautiful at sunset.
- Dad,what’s that? - asked Marco,pointing on four-motor plane,that was flying across the straight.
- Ah,that?..That is our Empire’s new strategic bomber,can I guess? - he said,not sure if he knows about aviation more than his child.
- Yes,pa,you’re right this time;but what about my little bro,where’s he? - asked Marco,talking so fast that Shelepov could barely understand him.
- Leonidas is with mommy at some weird shop on Mese Street now,Marco;I’m afraid you’ll be bored there…
Suddenly,man in uniform of Roman Imperial Navy walked to duke and said:
- Mister Pavlo Shelepov,Your Excellence,His Majesty have sent you letter!
Duke looked at sailor,and responded:
- And what’s about it?
- Well…nothing special…just New Year address to senators.
Only now Pavlo remembered,that at that day he was in Karacakoy…where he bought from relatives of Helen mansion of Alexander…and that he still haven’t solved mystery of his brother’s defection.
- Chauffeur,to Shelepov-Hall,quickly! - said duke,and,after sitting down with children in taxi,they drove to Karacakoy.

After their meeting at Augustaeon Square, Kyrene was unsure what to think. That angel, whom she didn’t even know the name of, was all she could really think of. As soon as she got back to the estate, she rested for a moment with some tea, spending some quality family time with Nestorius and Timon. They spoke of some trip they went on earlier that day, with Nestor showing Tim around the capital and the surrounding area. Timmy seemed a lot more cheerful, as he spoke about the interesting places he had seen with Ness, especially those linked to his early childhood which he barely remembered. She sighed in delight, thinking that her closest loved ones at least had a nice day.

Afterwards, she gathered everyone who had gone to Theodora’s house gathering for a private meeting. Franco Lazaratos, the Cecil Sisters, Carys and Delyth, Eudokia Lavigne and Antiochos Heraklides arrived as soon as they could. She asked them whether or not they experienced anything similar to that which Theodora experiences, which she also explained to them.

Franco, Carys and Delyth almost immediately told her they hadn’t experienced anything of the sort. Eudokia took a moment to think, but in the end gave the same answer as the previous three. Antiochos, however, seemed deep in thought as the others waited for a response from him. He even closed his eyes to concentrate! Soon, he opened them, and stated:

“I think I have.”

“Really?!” Kyrene looked in awe.

“…yes, I’ve had three or five dreams related to that gathering, strangely remembering the Cult attacking too. It has been a while since I’ve dreamt it though,” he continued.

“I’ll be meeting with Theodora in a week or so at the Ministry of Security headquarters. Maybe you could join me and the two of you could figure this out?” she suggested.

Antiochos shrugged, seemingly careless for everything around him at this point. “Sure, why not?” he said with a small smirk.

Kyrene smiled in response, thanking everyone for coming as quickly as possible. She checked her calendar once more, circling the day next week she was asked to come. She hoped Theodora didn’t mind her bringing Antiochos.

One week later

Theodora sat at her desk, looking over a report from her agents on the latest Cult cell raided. Then a bell rang, and her secretary entered the room.

“Miss Doukas,” said the young man, “You have visitors.”

“Has the transport arrived yet?” asked Theodora.

“We moved the subject into a maximum security cell,” said the secretary.

“Good,” said Theodora, “Tell my guests I’ll be right there.”

She made her way to the reception, where Kyrene and one of her friends waited.

“Ah, Theodora,” said Kyrene, shaking her hand, “This here is Antiochos. He said he’s been having recurring dreams about the Cult attack.”

“Hello, Antiochos,” said Theodora, shaking the man’s hand, “Now, please fill out these nondisclosure forms. Nothing you are about to see is to be told to anybody other than the two of you or to me.”

She handed them two forms, and they filled them out.

“Now,” she said, “If you’ll follow me.”

They walked through a side door and walked down a doorway, approaching a metal door flanked by two guards. Theodora nodded to the guards, who disengaged the large bank vault-like lock on the door. They walked through and arrived at another similarly guarded and locked door. The two guards there also unlocked the door, and they proceeded again. After going through three more doors and heading down some stairs, they arrived in a small room. There was one door at the far end of the room, with only a conventional lock on it. Guards were stationed at each corner of the room, armed with live rounds.

Theodora approached the door, and the guards raised their rifles. “No,” she said, motioning for them to lower their guns.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open. The three of them stepped inside, and Theodora shut the door.

The room was rather plain, with a Persian carpet laid out on the floor and a cot placed against one wall. There was a sink and toilet in one corner. The room was quite clean, compared to what one would normally expect in a “prison,” but this wasn’t a prison, and the “prisoner” was only here temporarily.

Meditating on the carpet, with her back to the three of them, was a young woman in plain Persian-style clothes. She had a blindfold covering her eyes.

“Theodora Anna Doukas,” said the woman, without turning around, “You’ve brought some friends with you.”

“Yes,” said Theodora, “Kira, this is–”

“Kyrene Thaddas, or should I say, Hairini Waata, Exarchess of Aotearoa,” said Kira, “Wife of Nestorius Thaddas, mother of Timon Thaddas. You escaped Constantinople on a submarine during the communist takeover. Antiochos Heraklides. Friend of Nestorius Thaddas. It’s not too often I meet a new face, or what is the closest for me to a new face.”

Both of them were quite shocked, though not Theodora.

“Okay,” she said, “You’ve demonstrated some of your abilities. Now, why don’t you tell us exactly who you are?”

“My name’s Kira,” said the woman, “I was a seer for the Cult in its strongholds in Central Asia. When the war broke out, I took the opportunity to escape to the Empire. I didn’t want to be locked up by the Cult for the rest of my life. I made my way to Theodora’s house. Only the Cult followed me there.”

“But what does this have to do with the strange dreams we’re having?” said Kyrene. “The ones about the Cult attacking Theodora’s house?”

“They did attack,” said Kira, “And they didn’t.”

Kyrene was still quite shocked by the point Kira explained that the Cult did and didn’t attack. It just made her confused on top of her shock! Antiochos, on the other hand, recovered from his shock decently fast - he had gotten too old to honestly care for surprises like this. However, Kira’s explanation intrigued him, and he decided to add onto it.

“You know,” he abruptly started, “this reminds me how, on the day of the gathering, I felt something that entire day. Something I’m sure the others felt too,” he added.

“I believe it was a feeling given to me by God himself! The only thing with these God-given feelings is that I never know whether something good or bad will happen. The last time I felt a feeling like that prior to the gathering, something good happened, yet prior to that, something bad happened… perhaps what I felt that day is connected to what you say?” he inquisited.

“You’re overthinking this,” said Kira, still not looking at any of them, “It happened. And then it didn’t. The Cult attacked that day, but something happened, and they never attacked. I am sure it had nothing to do with your God. Not to disprove the existence of your God, but still…”

“Kira, please,” said Theodora, “You are sure this happened?”

Kira turned to face Theodora, her blindfold still covering her eyes. “I can see all possible futures, Theodora Anna Doukas,” she said solemnly, “I know what is going to happen in your future. And yours too, Hairini. And yours too, Antiochos. Dark days are ahead for the Empire. A storm is gathering. Many will die.”

Antiochos was a bit peeved by the very sudden shutdown he had received from Kira, especially once she began mentioning God in a less positive light, but he chose to keep his mouth shut and consider what she was saying in more detail. Kyrene had finally gotten over her shock, but she didn’t like what Kira was saying, mostly because of the tone she’s using when referring to her in her birth name. She inched over to Theodora, and whispered:

“H-Have you questioned her about that angel guy?” she asked with her whisper, obviously unnerved by the mentions of upcoming dark days.

Theodora nodded.

“Uh, Kira, do you know about someone named Wilhelm?” she asked.

“I know of no Germans,” said Kira, “The affairs of Germany are not relevant in Persia or Samarkand.”

“What about angels?” said Theodora.

“Angels?” said Kira. “They are a myth. The Cult may believe in one angel, the Peacock Angel. Chernobog. But I have seen far enough, and I know that despite their efforts, if their Black God really exists, he does not care what they do.”

“But what about the future?” said Theodora. “What exactly did you see?”

“Death…and destruction,” said Kira, “In many possible futures, everybody in this room will be dead in the next fifteen years.”

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
Julius woke up with a sweat. His eyes are blurry, and slowly the adjusted to the dim light.
He was surrounded by hooded figures and-
“Is that an oven? Am I in a basement?”
“NO!” barked a cultist. “You are in a secret lair, that will never be found by your pitiful empire!”
“Im in a basement, aren’t I? I am. Oh god, this is priceless!” Julius laughed.
“You won’t be laughing when you realise you’ll never see your family again!” the cultist jabs.
“B** please, I’ll beat your *** and call a cab.”

“Charlie sweetie, can you keep it down? I have to go to work tomorrow.”
“SHUT UP MOM!”
“Wait, this is your mom’s basement? Alright kid, as phases go, this is pretty sad.”
“Well,” another cultist says, “people of all ages can love Chernobog.”
“Also, we’re down on members.” another chimes in.

“You know what? Im going home.” Julius says, as he easily breaks the badly tied rope. “Nice knowing you, call me when you are an actual threat or something. Try to do something useful with your life Charlie, like science.”
“YOUR NOT GOING ANYWHERE!” cried the group, only for the first three men to get sucker punched, the other two having their guts kicked. Charlie got knocked out. The final member drew out a gun, only to realise he forgot to load it before he left his house.
“Good day.” Julius remarked, before leaving the house.

Julius heard a loud ringing noise behind him. He turned around and saw bright light flashing out through the windows and heard the Cultists scream.

“What the…” he muttered.

The last comment Kira made didn’t make as much of an impact on Antiochos and Kyrene as it probably should’ve, considering their age among all else. But the mention of destruction and storms made Kyrene worried with each passing second. A worry that began to manifest itself as anger.

“What are we supposed to do then?!” Kyrene stated somewhat aggressively, with her voice cracking midway speaking. She knew the Empire couldn’t rely on angels changing history like they did at Theodora’s gathering, and all this talk about upcoming dark days has had her as stressed as Black Thursday, possibly even more, for reasons Theodora knew of. Being aggressive might not bring any results, but she couldn’t really hold herself back.

Antiochos put his hands on Kyrene’s shoulders to dissuade her from continuing, but she just shrugged them off.

“I’m too old for this s***.”Julius murmured.
“Taxi!”

For the first time, Kira hesitated instead of giving an answer.

“I…I don’t know,” she said, “Almost every action you do leads to the same outcome. That outcome is the death of everybody in this room, everybody in the Senate, and everybody in Blachernae. It leads to the destruction of the Empire.”

“But you said almost every action,” said Theodora, “What about those that don’t lead to that outcome?”

“It is hard for me to find those outcomes,” said Kira, “There are too many of the first one. It is almost certain that the Empire will be destroyed sometime in the next fifteen years.”

-–

“You know, you don’t need a taxi,” said a voice behind him.

Julius spun around, certain there was nobody behind him. He found a man wearing a plain suit standing behind him.

“And who are you?” he demanded.

Kyrene didn’t know how to feel about Kira’s response to her question - anger, frustration, sadness, all of them possible choices - but she decided to do something that could be seen as slightly selfish, if only to get it out there.

“What about Aotearoa and my son?” she asked less aggressively, carrying a motherly tone in her distressed voice, “Will this destruction, this looming storm, consume them as well?”

Antiochos looked worryingly towards Kyrene, unsure if she thought an answer to her question would honestly relieve her stress.

Kira paused for a moment as she concentrated, though it was hard to tell with the blindfold on. After a minute of silence, she turned to Kira and took off the blindfold, revealing bright blue eyes underneath.

“Aotearoa will be consumed, though not to the same degree as Eurasia,” she said, “As for Timon…he will participate in the destruction.”

Kyrene visibly cringed at Kira’s comment, unsure what to think of her own son participating in such madness, along with how Kira’s bright blue eyes are staring her down. She looked even sadder than before now, and when Antiochos tried to comfort her again, she didn’t push him away. Kira’s words will evidently haunt her to the rest of her days.

As Antiochos comforted her, he looked over to Theodora and whispered to her: “Madam Doukas, tell me, what was the point of visiting this eastern seer? From what I can tell, you and Kyrene are more aware of what’s going on with these dreams than you’re letting on, and that this seer is seemingly not giving you any new information.”

“On the contrary, she is giving me plenty of information,” said Theodora, “She told us what happened that day ten years ago. The Cult attacked us, but the whole day was somehow undone. Why or how it was done does not concern me. What does is the future. She has already said there is a war coming. We must be ready for that war.”

“But she didn’t tell you any information that is immediately useful,” said Antiochos.

Kira passed Theodora a piece of paper with some names and locations on it.

“On the contrary, she just gave me a list of every Cult stronghold in the eastern Empire,” said Theodora, “There are probably more in Central Asia and in rebel territory, but we’ll get to those when we get there. Now, let’s get out of here. Guards!”

The guards entered the room and escorted Kira away. The woman turned back to stare at Theodora one last time.

“Remember, Theodora,” she said, “The Empire is falling. It can only be saved if you survive the war.”

And the guards led her away.

“Where are they taking her?” said Kyrene.

“A safer place,” said Theodora, “Where the Cult can’t find her. Now, anybody want some coffee?”

“I’m just mentally tired of all this, so I’m going to have to pass on that offer,” Kyrene bluntly told Theodora. “If Antiochos wants, he can have coffee with you-“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Antiochos interrupted her, “besides, I should be helping you home,” he told her, as she gave him a meek smile. Kyrene looked over to Theodora.

“Well, I guess we’ll see you some other time, and hopefully, it’ll be a lot more relaxed,” she joked tiredly.

The two left the Ministry of Security headquarters, waving at Theodora as they went out and returned to the Thaddai estate.

“Why,” said the man. “Im Jesus.”
“…. WHERE THE F*** WERE YOU THESE PAST ONE THOUSAND NINE HUNDRED YEARS?” Julius shouted.

“Christ, dude, relax. I’m not Jesus.” Wilhelm muttered. “Listen, I’ll get you home.” snaps fingers

Suddenly, Julius found himself at his front porch.
“Was there something in my pizza last night?” Julius wondered.
He shrugged and went inside.

Pavlo walked on street,trying to relax.Suddenly,he heard screams from house on opposite side of the street.Somebody shouted about Chernobog,blood for blood god,peacock angel and other such things.
“Probably,again Cultists got drunk” - he thought,typing telephone number of Ministry of Security.
“Hello?..”
P.S.:General Vaderowsky was killed in 1932,on his mission in Kiev.He slayed with sword almost three dozens of Russians,while 37rd one have shot in General from machine gun.Funeral of Vaderowsky was held in secret,and only most influential Polish-Lithuanian party members attended it.
His brother,Pavlo Shelepov,completely retired from politics in 1934,becoming a family man.
His place in Senate goes to Indian political exile,Radical Party member,Rajah Akbar Patel.