“Hell on earth is often

  brought about by people

  trying to create Heaven

  on earth.”

  - Leonidas Stryker,

  following the defeat

  of the Eight

  Chapter 6: The Beginning

  of the Fall

  1st Tier General Tulius was not a man to be kept waiting, but today, he would be kept. The Kenzanite High Court had demanded his presence, and since he answered directly only to the Court and the King, he had very little choice but to make haste to their summons.

  The Court had been in existence for a few hundred years, created in an attempt to check the King’s control when needed. They functioned as a singular unit to bring a balance to the scales of power, and, most importantly, to act as the voice of the people. Despite its seemingly noble inception, the High Court had strayed far from its roots, and Tulius was reminded of this every time he met them.

  Despite its apparent urgency to see him, the Court seemed to have no qualms holding him in their waiting room. He guessed that this was most likely an attempt to elevate his anxiety, but the tactic was not unbeknownst to him. He knew it was yet another pathetic attempt to discomfort him into making a mistake during whatever report they were going to demand of him. Tulius laughed inwardly at the idea of such a ploy being successful. He was not some lackey whose knees shook in fear on their word: he was the most powerful General in all of Inkh. Their little scoldings did nothing to him, and definitely did nothing for him.

  His relationship to the Court was about as hostile as the Court’s relationship to the King. The High Court loathed any and all efforts by the King, regardless of their personal opinions. They opposed his policies, his lobbying for increased power, and most of all, his push for the war to continue. It could be claimed that their motives were driven from conscience. Such a claim would be a naive one. Their lust for power, and their need to maintain their lavish lifestyles brought them to every decision they came to. As such, their Court was very rarely filled with infighting amongst itself. Sometimes, even the bonds of greed can create a semi-stable union.

  Despite their opposition, anyone who knew anything understood that the Court’s power and legitimacy was dwindling. Public opinion had been silenced by stricter speech laws, and held little value in the minds of the government as a whole. With the people having their voice taken from them, the High Court slowly had committed themselves to their own destruction. By selling the people out, they had, in turn, sold themselves out.

  “Soon, their voice will be silenced forever,” Tulius whispered to himself, reveling in the thought.

  The war between Kenza and Paradign had been raging for years. The North (Kenza) and the South (Paradign) had been fighting ever since the assassination of Kenza’s King: Eric Kane. Kenza’s current King, Dagon Fraznar, had declared war many years ago on the Paradignians, claiming they were responsible for Eric Kane’s untimely death. This was not the first time the two nations had been locked in combat, but this had certainly been the longest they had fought. The war had wore on both sides heavily, and was taking its toll. Both the Kenzanite and Paradignian populace grew in their angst towards their respective leaders, and little was being done to alleviate the tension. In the higher echelons of government, both sides only cared about gaining power.

  Tulius being appointed to 1st Tier General at the war’s beginning had been one of the strangest occurrences of the theater’s history. The man had been relatively unknown to most in Kenza, and for King Dragon to personally appoint him to lead their armies was an unprecedented move. Tulius had never even been in the Kenzanite military, let alone any military establishment. However, that had not been Tulius’ cover story. His official background had been falsified to justify his promotion, but his true history remained hidden from the eyes of public scrutiny. The official story was one that few of brighter intellect believed, but nothing had been done to oust the General. With the King’s backing, no one dared.

  Tulius cared little for the people. He cared little for petty politics. He even cared little to nothing for the country he served. He affirmed his is allegiance was to a cause far greater than any of the social constructs around him. Soon, all nations would fall under the rule of one entity. A singularity unlike any other. Soon, there would be no nations at all...

  “1st Tier General Tulius?” An attendant asked, coming in through the sliding door to his left.

  Tulius remained silent, not bothering to answer the boy’s useless address.

  “The High Court will see you now,” the attendant continued, slightly taken back that the General did not even acknowledge his presence.

  Tulius stood from his floating chair and proceeded forward out of the well furnished room. After walking through multiple corridors of white and red marble design, he stepped through another sliding door into the center of the High Court’s triangularly shaped meeting room. Tulius felt small as he stood before the Court’s members, who sat elevated high above him, looking down at him like perched vultures from their decorative nests. He gently rubbed his pale forehead and adjusted his monocle, as he always did when being stared at.

  Tulius was not disturbed by their gawking. Most people looked down on him anyway since he was a man of smaller stature. On top of this, he was what many called, “an eye sore,” as well. The only thing that could be considered aesthetic about his appearance was his impressive, boisterously decorated uniform and his stalky, muscular build. The rest of his look had much to be desired in the eyes of the fashionable, but he did not feed off their opinions in any way. If so, it was only to revel in their despair when he toppled their expectations of him.

  Tulius scowled as he surveyed the room. All the usual diplomats were present, each wearing robes denoting their station. Tulius gritted his teeth at the sight of them, yet kept his contempt for them concealed as best as he could. He wondered what games they were up to today.

  The room’s decor was nothing short of spectacular. Floating, luminescent chandeliers hovered around the ceiling above them, while red and white drapes hung about in an almost gaudy fashion. Statues, both of current and past members of the court, stood juxtaposed to the triangular seating compartments, contrasting the bright, elegant room with a certain stoic undertone. The room’s display not only symbolized the Court’s supposed power, but also demonstrated the significant change its structure and ideals had gone through in the last few years.

  Upon looking at where the Chief Magistrate sat, he was surprised to find a face that looked very much out of place. Tulius almost lost his composure upon witnessing King Dagon himself sitting with the Chief Magistrate, Holden Barrakus.

  “What is Dagon doing here? And with the Chief Magistrate no less?!” Tulius thought, thrown off guard that the King was present.

  “M-my Lords and King. You sent for me?” Tulius asked, breaking the silence.

  “1st Tier General Tulius, you have been summoned here to provide us with a report about how things fare on the southern front,” Holden barked, his raspy but charismatic voice echoing throughout the chambers.

  “Forgive me, my Lord, but why summon me directly? That’s the point of my emissary, Lieutenant Furzoff, coming to address you weekly. Have his reports been unsatisfactory?” Tulius responded, trying to keep his agitation concealed.

  “Because more is in question than the overall results, General Tulius. You yourself are in question, both in your conduct and in regards to the reports we have received. The information our scouts provide us show a very different story than your Lieutenant Furzoff. A story most... disconcerting.”

  “Scouts? How devious. I didn’t know the Court could place spies in my midst. I underestimated them...” he concluded inwardly.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea as to what you are talking about, Lord Holden,” Tulius replied, both denying any wrong doing and baiting Holden to reveal what he thought he knew.

  “Well, allow me to elaborate, General,” Holden replied, spewing the title from his mouth as though it were a nasty word.

  “Seartime the 27th you commanded a full retreat of your men without alerting the 301st of your actions, leaving an entire legion to die or be captured at the battle Horgenstead. On Windslat the 5th you cut your army in two and told them to hold positions on open ground. This allowed the Paradignians to retreat from the battle for Margaine, regroup, and counter attack, leaving the left flank of your force almost decimated. On Windslat the 24th, you-“

  “These accusations are steep, Chief Magistrate. You should reconsider your next words before levying anymore of these... lies, against me,” Tulius interrupted, implying that, regardless of their position in the technical sense, the Court was in no place to try and oust him from office at this stage of the game.

  “Is that a threat, General?” Holden replied.

  “No, of course not. I was merely stating-“

  “What you have to say is of no consequence at this time, Tulius. You will kindly shut your mouth, and let the Chief Magistrate continue,” the King interrupted, his stern and commanding tone bringing the General to a dumbfounded state.

  The room filled with hushed, bewildered tones. Everyone was confused as what had just happened, most of all, Tulius. The King had always been Tulius’ most staunch supporter in every sense. Why would he turn on him now? What had happened behind closed doors? The General’s demeanor immediately flipped from brash and emboldened to cowardly and bereft of confidence.

  “Yes, my King. Forgive me,” Tulius spoke.

  Holden cleared his throat, and with a renewed vigor, continued on.

  “Before me lies account after account of verifiable happenstances demonstrating your ineptitude and borderline traitorous conduct, Tulius. This has been brought before myself and the King, and will be given to each member of this Court. After conferring with the King, the both of us have come to the agreement that you are no longer fit to lead our armies. Before bringing this to a vote, do you have anything to say in your defense?” Holden asked, speaking each sentence as though he were plunging a knife into Tulius.

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  Tulius, after being cowed by the King, quickly glance up in his direction. Dagon, an attractive, dark skinned man in his fifties, looked down at him with a scathing expression. Tulius picked up on the cue.

  “No, Chief Magistrate.”

  “All in favor of General Tulius’ immediate removal from office, cast your vote now.”

  Tradition, and the principles of their foundation had mostly been forgotten or ignored; however, there were still some pastimes the Court clung to, if only for the novelty of them. When casting their vote, specifically when regarding an individual, white and black stones were used. The diplomat would grab a white stone for yay, and a black stone for nay. Some diplomats used to throw their own stones, but nowadays, their body guards would perform the task. As strange as it sounded, every body guard present in the High Court was responsible for being an excellent stone thrower. It was a required prerequisite.

  Tulius knew the outcome already. He imagined coming in here and facing some difficulty, but never to this degree. He was only moments away from being an outcast.

  As Tulius suspected, every diplomat in the Court rose without hesitation. Methodically, they all grabbed their white stones, and handed them to their personal body guard. Suspensefully , the guards waited for the Magistrate’s command.

  “Now,” Holden commanded, a twisted smile resting on his face.

  Upon his word, every guard threw their stones as hard as they could right at Tulius. Tulius stood, unflinching. The invisible gravity orb surrounding him would protect him from them, but even if it was not in place, Tulius would be okay with that. It could not sting worse than the betrayal he had just suffered.

  The stones, as he suspected, hit the orb. Then, flew back into the hands of the ones who threw them. All votes had now been cast.

  “It’s unanimous, then. You are to be stripped of your rank immediately. All privileges granted to your position are henceforth provoked.”

  “Am I to be tried?” Tulius asked, his once fiery tone now mellow and reserved.

  “Luckily for you, the King has secured you a position as Commandant of outpost 17. Consider it a... retirement position, granted to you for some of the good work you’ve done,” Holden responded, slightly displeased he could not render further judgement.

  “Don’t be too disappointed with the outcome of all this, Tulius. I would have had you executed. Luckily for you, the King convinced me that you do have some remaining usefulness to us. I suppose public shame and spending the rest of your days in a desert wasteland will be punishment enough.”

  After the proceedings were finished, Tulius left feeling betrayed, ashamed, and confused. His markings, badges, and medals were all gone now. He would have been angered to the point of action, but it would be of no use, neither against the current establishment or the one he secretly served. There was little to be done but accept his fate.

  He was to immediately report to hanger bay 76 for transport. There, he would be promptly shuttled to his new duty station. He did not think to ask about his possessions, but they would be of little consequence now. Whether taken with him or sold, all was lost.

  Tulius stewed as to what he could have done to fall from grace. Not in the High Court’s opinion, that much was clear. But to the King? To the cause? He had done every thing he had been ordered to do. Every step had been completed to perfection, even in his directives to deliberately fail. What was the point to his downfall?

  Tulius looked through his shield window down at the Capitol of Kenza, Vult. He remembered when he had first seen the city back in the days of Eric Kane’s reign. It was so breathtaking, prosperous, and lively that Tulius almost bought into the ideals Kane proposed. However, that illusion was temporal. His principles were short sighted and delusional. A utopia could be achieved, and would come about. Not, however, by Kane’s “realistic” approach.

  Vult was one of the largest cities in all of Inkh, housing approximately 1 billion of Kenza’s residents. It was a city that was filled with almost every modern convenience, and was thought to be a place unlike any other. From high in the sky to deep underground, Vult was one of the highest functioning urban jungles known to intelligent life. It was a place spoke of throughout the known galaxy. The city had been built on the backs of many different things, people, and ideals. Most good, some not so much. Despite that, most people took pride to be a part of it. It was not thought to be a perfect place or a grand utopia, but such an understanding amongst its people is what made it so strong. Past mistakes and unrealistic notions did not cloud the overall populace’s judgement, and by understanding that a utopia was not achievable, they had gotten much closer to one than was ever though possible.

  Now, the city was in worse shape than it had been since Corgus’ reign nearly two hundred years ago. Government property juxtaposed to private property was the difference between night and day. Floating structures, 5-20 kilometer high buildings, and lavish hovercraft held one side of the city, while the older corporate and locally owned districts were on the brink of shambles, barely reflecting their former glory. By comparing the old city to the new, it was clear in Tulius’ mind that the plan was working. Bringing about the degradation of these societies was the whole point of all this political, military, and economic subterfuge. Tulius would have smiled at the thought, but that was before today. Where did he stand within the new regime now?

  Although lost in his own thoughts for a time, Tulius could not help but notice that his driver did not take the correct turn. Not only that, but she had flown down 6 lanes into the most undesirable lane of them all: stone lane. Class division existed even in common air traffic. Government workers of every class took up zygillium, platinum, gold, silver, and hyrgus lanes respectively. Those not working for the government flew in the stone lane. The shuttle must have looked out of place in the lower class lane. Tulius noticed people in the same lane beginning to take note of his misplaced presence.

  “Driver, where are you taking me? You’re in the wrong lane,” Tulius scolded.

  “We’re taking a detour, General,” the driver replied, taking a coy tone as she glanced into the backseat through her rear-view holo.

  Tulius suspected the worst. Withdrawing a small plasma pistol from his overcoat, he placed the tiny barrel against the side of her head.

  “I would reconsider your next move carefully, driver,” he threatened.

  She smiled, completely undisturbed by his actions.

  “They told me you didn’t trust easy, General,” she replied, her smooth tone making him even more uncomfortable. Again, he suspected the worst. Maybe the plan was to take his life from him after all, but in a less public, dignified way.

  The driver jerked the wheel to the right, throwing the unbuckled General to the shuttle’s side. A few back alley turns and descents later, she halted the shuttle. They had stopped in a parking garage, deep in the heart of Vult’s welfare district.

  Before Tulius could point his pistol at the driver once more, the shuttle door opened. He turned to face his potential assailant, ready to fire repeatedly into them. To his surprise, it was none other than King Dagon himself standing there waiting for him.

  “Put that little thing away, my friend. We have matters to discuss,” Dagon demanded, walking away from the shuttle after addressing him.

  Tulius exited the shuttle in a fury. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

  “What is the meaning of all this Dagon?! I have faithfully served you and the cause for years, and now-”

  “Don’t forget your place, Tulius. Remember your standing,” Dagon scolded as he walked alongside him.

  “It was my understanding we were all equals in this. After today, I begin to doubt it,” Tulius confessed, his temper still boiling.

  Dagon chuckled.

  “Is your faith to our cause so easily rocked, my friend? Surely you know by now that everything has transpired according to plan, even if you were not fully aware.”

  “Fully aware? You think not warning me a-forehand of what I was walking into today was wise? You betrayed me today, Dagon.”

  “And do you tell your personal Vishi guard everything you know?” Dagon rebutted, making his point.

  “So I’m that low on the totem pole, then?”

  Dagon let a devious grin creep onto his face.

  “You were... but you’ve been... promoted.”

  “Promoted?” Tulius inquired, struggling to understand his situation.

  “Publicly, you’ve been denounced, shamed, and turned away. In the eyes of the public, you will be forgotten, as more senseless news clutters their minds and redirects their focus. Your usefulness to the cause in that capacity, although valuable, was limited. Now, after having proven your worth, you will be engaging a new task. A much more... important task that I have in mind for you,” Dagon elaborated.

  Tulius, upon hearing the news, became visibly more excited.

  “Lord Dagon, I’m so sorry, if I had known-”

  “You were not meant to know, Tulius,” Dagon interrupted, reminding him of his place while, at the same time, granting more exposition. “You’re not a convincing actor, and your reaction today needed to be genuine. Your removal not only freed you for other tasks, but granted me the leverage I needed to put the final nail in the High Court’s coffin. Having gained a modicum of their trust, it shouldn’t be too long now...”

  Tulius was excited all was not what it seemed to be. He grew even more excited to be serving in a more active role. He wanted to ask more about his new work, but knew he had already pushed his luck with Dagon too many times today. An apology was necessary first.

  “My Lord, I wish to apologize for my conduct earlier. I-”

  “Spare me your groveling. Given the circumstances, I suppose it’s understandable. However, if you if you forget your place in the future, you won’t live long to regret it.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” Tulius replied, bowing his head.

  “We shan’t see each other for some time, I imagine. Your duty in the desert awaits you,” Dagon stated, turning to face his smaller counterpart.

  “I won’t be answering to you, my Lord?” Tulius asked, surprised.

  “No. I’m having you answer to someone else for your directives.”

  Dagon gave pause, stewing on his words before speaking.

  “I’ll warn you, Tulius, that your new director will not be as forgiving as I have been with you today. True, all of us are equal in the cause, but not all of us can be a part of the body’s head. Should you act out of selfishness at any time instead of functioning as a part of the cause, then you will be…cut off from the body. Do you understand?” Dagon asked, ominously.

  “I do.”

  Dagon smiled again, as though putting back on his persona of the friendly, easy going politician. Even while serving as King he had never abandoned the act, even though his position could grant him the liberty. He gestured towards the woman who had driven him here.

  “Your driver, Martzia, will be your new attendant. She is an elite Vishi, and will serve as an excellent right hand woman to you. Take her into your confidence, and trust in her completely. She is more than capable.”

  “Thank you my Lord. May I ask, how will I get in touch with my new director?”

  “He will get in touch with you. Martzia will be able to confirm his identity for you,” Dagon replied, his demeanor demonstrating that it was time for him to leave.

  “Good luck, Tulius. I hope we meet again after the new world has come,” Dagon replied, gripping Tulius’ forearm with Inkh’s customary greeting.

  “Thank you, my Lord. It was a pleasure serving directly under you. If I may be so bold, may I ask you a question?”

  “If you’re quick about it.”

  Tulius licked his lips, an outward sign of his inward anticipation and excitement.

  “What exactly will I be working on now?”

  Dagon smiled as he turned around and began walking towards his private shuttle.

  “The beginning of the fall, Tulius. The beginning of the fall.”