Pantheon Peace has undoubtedly been a success through whatever way you want to measure its effective. The decree banned all tools used primarily for warfare. The Pantheon Court in Olympiada started to arbitrate all international disputes, this millennia has seen less open conflict than ten years did in the Pre-Great-War Era. What moralistic arguments against Pantheon Peace simply crumble under the results it has brought.

- Excerpt from ‘Modern Geopolitics’, written by a team of UNN historians.

Kassandora watched Mwai declare the start of the discussion period. It was a mere formality. Kassandora wanted to end that discussion already. She stood in Kirinyaa’s parliament, it was a magnificent structure, although the tinges of Maisara everywhere. Divided into two sides, with red furniture cladding every structure. The Kirinyaan tricolour, blue, red then green was painted on the ceiling. An orator ran the discussions, and people would take the stand to argue.

Mwai was stood in a suit with a series of cameras pointed towards him. KTV was reporting, as it always it. For once, the parliamentary channel may have some watchers on it. The only entertainment these politicians gave Kirinyaa were the few times they got into a shouting match with each other and the orator failed to calm down them. “With all the reasons listed previously.” Mwai spoke in a slow tone. Kassandora didn’t like that, there was no reason to extend what was already a boring meeting, but she said nothing, only sitting in the public stands and watching. “I propose the creation of a National Kirinyaan Military Force under this Army Implementation Bill.” He held up the piece of paper as the crowd went quiet.

And so, Kirinyaa became the first country of the modern age to discuss breaking Pantheon Peace. A concept so out of this world, it simply had to be seen to be believed. Kassandora flicked open her phone and checked her social media. And now, she got the reaction she was wanting. Post after post came in, telling people to switch to the parliamentary channel and watch what was going on. How they could not believe. How it was suddenly worth watching. How ground breaking, how terrifying, how inspiring, how hot-headed, how they were filled with awe and how disastrous it was.

Mwai put the bill down and leaned down to the microphone. “That is all.” He left the stand as his party stood up to clap for him. They had a mere thirty percent of the seats. The other side of the parliament grumbled, as Kassandora assumed they would, even though everyone wore a green armband to show off their support for the Reclamation War. How could they not? Kirinyaa was the frontline for it, standing against her campaign was the equivalent of a hanging for their careers.

“Order. Order!” The orator slammed a ceremonial gavel on a block of Kirinyaan hardwood. One of the last to in existence, the natural habitat of those trees had been taken over by the Jungle about a century ago. “The orator invites a nominee of the opposition to speak.” That was custom here, the other side got to speak first. The public would be allowed near the end of the debate, although that was only custom. It wasn’t a hard rule.

Kassandora already knew she would not manage to sit here for another five hours until Parliament closed for the day. She smiled to herself and crossed her arms, what a farce. Parliament closing debates. Arascus worked everyday to manage his Empire in the past, she did too to manage his war. What? Was the country supposed to go on break for the next day? She wanted to laugh in the face of the it all.

Kirinyaa needed a restructuring.

A man was eventually nominated by the opposition. A tall fellow, with a fine cut jawline. He spoke slowly, as they all did. “In regards to this, although I of course support the Reclamation War…” Kassandora rolled her eyes as the man gestured to the green band around his dark blue suit. She leaned back and she fell half-asleep, eyes open. Still aware, catching the words the words that were important and ignoring the rest. “Diplomatic protests…” He continued on. “The danger of this would set a precedent that would allow the Pantheon to intervene in Kirinyaa…”

He came to a stop eventually. A man from Mwai’s loyalists was chosen up. Kassandora could not believe what she was watching. Where was the passion? The fire? The righteous rage? These people were supposed to lead yet they would struggle to inspire a classroom. A man like this would be assigned to logistics and hauling dirt in her army, and even that would be too much for him. He’d somehow managed to put the dirt to sleep.

And again, from the other side. The first fellow at least was handsome. This one was balding and old, and he needed a cane to get up the stairs. Kassandora sighed as the charade went on. Round and round, one man putting others to sleep, then another. Eventually, the orator called a stop to the proceedings. He slammed the gavel on that block of hardwood as Kassandora pulled out her phone. She made a post: Parliamentary Channel. Fer’s little show in EIE hadn’t been only for fun, with Of Beasthood famous, all the personal accounts of the other Divines were dragged into the spotlight.

“If any member of the public wishes to speak.” How did even the orator manage six words into ten seconds? Kassandora eyed the people to her sides. No one had the courage to sit next to her, but several were looking giddy, their legs bouncing up and down as if they wanted their own five minutes of fame. “Now is the time, otherwise-“ Kassandora stood up before anyone else got the chance to. She raised her hand and the parliament’s hushed whispers fled the room, only to be conquered by silence.

Very good. They knew their place. Now was a time to let the Goddess of War speak. “Goddess Kassandora of War, do you have something to say?” Kassandora ignored the orator. He was only here to keep order.

She turned and walked down the steps of the public viewings. Her black boots clicked against the wood floor with every step as the government held their breath. Mwai was eyeing her, desperation and disbelief in his eyes. It had never been done after all, a law proposed and passed on the same day? It was impossible.

But then Kassandora ever escaping from Olympiada was impossible. Rescuing a lost soul from the Jungle was impossible. Arascus returning was impossible. Leona dying was impossible. Olephia breaking free was impossible and then killing the Caretaker was also impossible. These people simply had no imagination.

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She walked to the stand and turned the microphone off. There was no reason for little toys like this. The little bench reached up to everyone man’s chest, now, it barely breached her thighs. Kassandora did not mind it, she preferred to have herself, in her black uniform, with the coat hanging down to her calves all on camera. “Ladies and Gentlemen of Kirinyaa.” Kassandora began, her voice boomed across the room. She took a heavy breath, it was a show after all. She took a step away from the stand. There was nothing that said the speaker had to remain sequestered there, mortals only did it because they needed a microphone to project their voice.

This wasn’t going to be a presentation on the economic benefits of reclaiming Western Kirinyaa, nor some speech about the logistical necessities of expanding her operations. Those were merely facts. If facts were everything to life, people wouldn’t need laws to keep them under control. Arascus had taught her this, it was the ancient debate between facts and emotions; dialectic and rhetoric. If one side was correct about its position, the debate would have been ended the moment it began. Kassandora stared every member of the parliament down.

“The Reclamation War is my project.” She said. “The Binturongs were designed by my engineers.” That wasn’t even true, it was Arascus’ man who built it. “Napalm is my invention.” And that was Mikhail Alash too. “The ground we’ve reclaimed has been conquered by my men.” Kassandora took a step. Her heel clicked against the floor. “But it is not my war.”

“Kirinyaa has been under siege for longer than anyone in this room but I have been alive. Kirinyaa will be under siege long after you die. And eventually, Kirinyaa will fall. We have reclaimed two thousand square kilometres of land in our sector, and the Jungle has grown two more everywhere else. It is currently within viewing distance of Lake Baningo. From there, it will be a stone’s throw distance from the Nyiro Conservation Reserve.”

She took a pause and eyed every member of the parliament. Then she turned to the cameras and spoke directly to them. “This is not a dream, nor is it a nightmare. This is reality. You will not feel the effects of this Jungle. It will not reach Nanbasa in our lifetimes.” She kept the grin from coming onto her face when she heard someone catch their breath. “But your descendants will. Your children’s children will turn to their parents one day, and they will ask: Why are we building Firewalls like in Ausa? They will ask about the lions and rhinoceros, that once lived in noble Kirinyaa. They will ask about the fields of red soil, the pastures, they will ask to be told about your mountains. And then, they will ask could we have not stopped it?”

Kassandora took a breath. It was emotional manipulation at its finest. Armies filled with disgruntled and hungry men were much harder to rally than populations eager and willing to do something. If she had rallied Legions of millions in the past, could she not rally a room? “And what will your children tell them?” Kassandora asked and let the question hang as she turned and made her way down the aisle. Her boots clicking against the floor were the only sound in the brightly lit room.

“Especially now.” Kassandora turned and continued. “This is the not the Kirinyaa of six months ago. This is the Kirinyaa that started the Reclamation War. What will your children say? How will they talk about their noble parents? I will not stay in Kirinyaa forever. There will come a time when I leave.” That was to force the decision, if they felt the pressure of time coming down on them, they’d be more likely to act.

“What WILL they say? How will the Reclamation War be written about? Was it the last spasm of a nation’s corpse, or was it the moment when Kirinyaa stood up for itself? When this proud nation cast off the shackles imposed on it by Pantheon Peace and Olympiada’s Doctrines? How will your descendants read about you? As the men who bowed? Or the men who stood?”

Kassandora smiled when she saw the faces the opposition started to make. It wasn’t fear or disconcertion, nor anger or unwillingness. It was exactly what she had been aiming to achieve. It was shame.

“Because THIS.” Kassandora tapped the piece of paper on the stand. “IS THE WAY!” She shouted. “Let us not be half-hearted fools who snivel at what THIS is. This WILL break Pantheon Peace. This WILL create a military force for Kirinyaa. And this WILL make sure that everyone in this room will be written about as the one who stood, and not the spineless coward they want to be.” Kassandora began another slow walk down the aisle.

“This week, we saw noble Zerus, precious Sceo and heroic Alkom come to Nanbasa. They came to demand that you get rid of me. I do not listen to the wills of upstart Gods. I am the Goddess of War. I am a sword to wield, a gladiator to arm, a rifle to point. The only way you can get rid of me is by telling me you are not worthy to wield me. You are afraid of Zerus, Sceo and Alkom because you cannot match him.” Kassandora took a step.

“That is true. If I was not here. If Fer was not here. If Olephia was not here. If Arascus was not here, then Zerus would have waltzed into this building and barked his orders. And I know every single would have bowed their heads, would have thought how unfair it was, maybe you would even curse him silently. But at the end of the day, you would follow. You have no army to protect yourselves with. You have nothing to leverage against the might of Divines.” Kassandora tapped the paper as if that was the answer to all their worries.

“I do not ask you to follow me. I will tell you this. Every day, the Jungle takes two hundred people from across Kirinyaa.” That number was entirely made up, Kassandora did not even know if there was an official figure for it. But it sounded low enough to be reasonable, but large enough to be urgent. Tomorrow though, it would be written in the papers as a fact anyway. It was a fact because she said it. “I am not talking to the puppets of the Pantheon right now, I am talking to the leaders of Kirinyaa. Every day you delay, everyone in this room has the blood of two hundred on their hands. These people are YOUR responsibility. Their deaths are your deaths! Their lives are yours to save!”

“You can debate this, but know that for every day you delay, you will see these people in the afterlife. And then when they ask you why they were separated from their families, why they had to die in the creeping Jungle, why they were abandoned by their leaders, what will you tell them?” Kassandora saw a man start to shake, another looked down into his hands. The gestures spread through the room like a burning flame. They were primed.

“Will you be remembered as the men who died on their knees? Or will you be remembered as the men who stood? Will Kirinyaa go down as another country that bowed into extinction? Or will it finally be the nation that stood?!” Kassandora shouted. “All those for a favour of voting on expanding the Reclamation War, raise your hands!”

And the entire building followed her command. Kassandora turned to the orator as the man looked down on her. He nodded and banged his gavel. The man stood up and raised his hands. “The parliament has decided to vote on this bill.” There was some other things he should say about the legislature and things, Kassandora knew there was, but even the man himself had been caught up in the bonfire of flaming emotions of her army.

“All those in favour of passing the Army Implementation Bill, raise your hands!” The orator shouted and Kassandora turned to inspect the room. There wasn’t even a need to count.

Kassandora allowed herself a smile. She had her army.