“...so if you could prepare that discussion with Minister Ikeda and his colleagues as well as acquire the inputs of Mister Ishimura and his colleagues before Prime Minister Nobuharu returns, that'd be fantastic.”
He pursed his lips, shifting in his seat under the soft light of a newly christened star-filled sky, and harsher tones of fluorescent light tubes. “Understood, I'll arrange for it right away.”
He couldn’t have given a damn what the voice said. He was slowly withering, having spent well-nearly ten years of his life in an office answering calls and pushing papers while slowly climbing to the esteemed position of ‘Parliamentary Vice-Minister for Foreign Affairs.’ It was an irredeemable mouthful of a title that meant little more than dealing with the jackasses in the diet AND other countries. Of course, he’d have to at least pretend he cared if he wanted a comfortable life at home. A real shame.
In any case, he had a job to do. A job that entailed pushing papers and answering phones in a lonesome office. The fact that he was still alive was a testament to his sheer willpower, or maybe the sheer power of a strong caffeine addiction, especially over the past month or so.
The voice came again through the phone’s speaker, low but breathy. “Thank you, and that is all.”
Gritting his teeth, he'd respond promptly, “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” The voice would reply, noise then shifting to a low beeping sound.
Setting down the handset, he’d get up and pace around his desk. Circling it thrice before in the claustrophobic nightmare of a room he was in before feeling sufficiently de-stressed post-six-hours of dormant phone calls, then slowly settled back into his office seat. The worn fabric resisted little. First, he sifted through the documents that sat in neatly stacked manila folders. He skimmed through one’s front page - past the thick kanji at the top and instead to the various subheadings listed. Then through another, and another, all on multiple topics which led to little more than a wandering gaze once read.
But most importantly, reading all in the same order. Past the title, straight to the table of contents, and a glance down. All of them were roughly the same, save for a month's difference in title date. He then looked back. Not to the papers laid out across the table, but to the telephone.
He’d reach out, hesitating with an unusual stiffness as his hand came to almost cradle the telephone. It was all far too tiresome. He gave it a moment’s thought. The present stillness of his office, then the prospective future of what he thought a few hours from then would be like - call after call, word after word. It certainly had its appeal to some people. But he wasn’t some people.
“A half-month gone longer.” He'd mutter to an empty office, bringing the handset back to his grasp whilst tapping on the receiver’s number pad with his free hand, distinctive beeps sounding off with each press. Damn it all.
[+]
Ministry of Foreign Affairs Headquarters, Chiyoda Ward
2:32 AM
Deep within the bowels of a certain building was a congregation within a meeting room. Two dozen or so men had gathered, each clad in black suits and suitably formal coats. There was little remarkable about the scene, only metal placards with etched names present along a short table dedicated to the most senior of those present.
The head of the table began with opening the session, remarking, “Gentlemen, I am very grateful for your arrivals on such short notice at this hour,” all nodding in agreement, bagged eyes most apparent as their heads all came back up. “Now, nearly every embassy has lodged complaints that they had wholly lost contact with their respective nations. This has coincided with a communications blackout on our lines with the Prime Minister and his team, and all of our ambassadors and diplomats abroad.” He looked around, giving a second to eye every person seated at the table. “I saw everyone in the office on a landline earlier trying and failing, and I want to know why nobody can contact anybody out of the country - our missions, consulates, and the Prime Minister especially.”
Minister Yoshimune. Things had panned out quite well for him, having to do little more than delegate all the hard work down the ladder and simply represent the MOFA in the cabinet. He lived an easy living, too easy, with too little Having well taken in the view from his homely office the night preceding, he now sat here - rubbing his eyes as he tried so desperately not to fall asleep.
Left with his thoughts, he considered his opener nicely said. Having boiled much of it down to a few short enough points, an answer was all but guaranteed at that point so long as they were stringent enough. Naturally, the first thing that came to mind was an attack - something so sudden so highly improbable by any natural means, this sudden collapse of communications could only have been of malicious intent.
“Minister, I must report that, upon phone consultation with multiple energy generation companies and the MITI, this event is likely to have been caused by the widespread, unscheduled power disruptions experienced in the past hour.” One man answered, nodding once as he finished. He was young and still bright, the light in his eyes not faded yet. It was a good thing to be in their business, yet it wouldn’t be one he’d have for long. His short message was followed by a short series of several of the less experienced present letting off the faintest sighs of relief, finding it to be a reasonable enough answer. And who could blame them? It was three o’clock, and they’d all been called up because everyone else had called them solely because they couldn’t call anyone. Their destiny, it seemed, was confusing.
Needing a second opinion, Yoshimune looked around the room for a suitable candidate. Perhaps his Deputy would prove his worth.
“Deputy Minister, your opinion on this?” He’d ask, eyes locking onto his subordinate.
Stuttering, he’d barely manage to get a full sentence out. “W-well, Minister Yoshimune, I feel I must agree with State Minister Keiji in that this issue may have most likely been caused by widespread power discrepancies - I see no other possibilities for such a widespread issue to occur.” It was less than satisfactory. Everyone in the room knew what Yoshimune liked, and that was a straightforward answer without complexities. Maybe he was of the old breed of politician, but he was in charge - not them.
The remainder of the room was filled with scratchy sounds similar to a considerably subdued nail across a blackboard, with hushed words tossed between advisors. Pens were seen having their way with paper, and each new idea thrown onto the pile of possibilities was more fuel for the fire.
In the background, he could hear a not-so-quiet back-and-forth between two aides, one glaring at the Deputy Minister as he spoke, “...shouldn’t this be more an issue for the MITI or DA than us, all things considered, especially considering our apparent incapability…”
Their co-worker grunted disagreement to the effect of “...probably best an issue for us, even if we’re unable to provide concrete answers…” - the usual bloviated speech that meant little to anybody outside of the room.
And likewise by the former, “...but wouldn’t MITI be better suited for that?” they'd reassert quietly.
Somebody then raised their hand, speaking after waiting a moment as eyes fell upon him. “If I may interject, technical staff nationwide have been trying since the issue was first reported, yet all attempts have thus far failed in establishing any meaningful communication even on consistent emergency generation. I thus believe there may be another reason entirely.” Reading the first half of a short report, the third person of importance wound down in speaking, some present giving affirming nods as he concluded.
“Nothing at all? What then?” the Minister asked.
“Minister Yoshimune, there is reason to believe this may be a sort of large-area jamming, as both SDF units and Americans within the country and at sea seem to be experiencing similar issues.” a gruff voice would call out, the speaker a squat yet venerable bureaucrat.
Adjusting his glasses, an Assistant Deputy chimed in, “Neither of those suggestions is possible, we've gotten complaints and phone calls from nearly every diplomat and ambassador from a country that could launch that kind of attack at this scale. Plus all domestic communications are proving to still be in order, and it should've been impossible to contact any MSDF or MSA ships at sea.” Having spoken with such clarity that more affirming head nods were in order, such well-deserved considering the thought process and ongoing cultivation of a culture of concern.
“One of my subordinates has gotten ahold of the NLA - they allege that all physical lines out were severed physically.”
It was getting ludicrous at that point - for all physical lines to have been cut. The Minister held the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, allowing himself a moment to think. Something unable to be severed, something unable to be blocked.
“What about satellites then - anybody got a satellite phone?” Yoshimune asked, now reinvigorated under the assumption he’d cracked the code.
Only for him to deflate once again as one of the State Ministers said, “Everyone with one’s tried - they won’t work either.”
That shouldn’t happen. That was something that never should’ve been able to happen. How could satellite phones not work? Nothing could’ve caused it short of the satellites themselves ceasing to exist, or the entire country was being jammed, and he knew neither of those could’ve happened, that neither of these two things were in any way possible.
“Uh, have we tried with the STA or NASDA?” Another asked, lanyard badge identifying him to be a so-called consultant with ‘crisis management’ specialization.
“I was just on the phone with someone who had - the STA have so far only have speculation, and are unable to provide concrete answers - the other claim something is off about the sky through unconfirmed reports.” another called out.
“E- even the STA doesn't know?” The Minister would stutter out in line with the consensus, once more keeping the bridge of his nose tightly pinched as he did. Letting go, and looking up, he’d plead inside for at least some sense of knowing in response - for at least some vague answer that felt right.
“It was completely unforeseen, though from what I gather, the STA is doing what they can to figure it out.”
“What of this about the sky then?”
“They didn’t say much else besides something being off, though it may support the theory of area jamming?” The aide would say, losing confidence in what they were saying as they moved to the second half, well aware it was a stretch.
“Alright, have a bulletin sent out to all foreign delegates on the issue, and get-” mid-sentence, he was cut off by a staffer throwing themselves into the room from seemingly nowhere. All heads turned.
“Excuse me for the interruption!” The staffer would yell out, bowing as he did. “Minister Yoshimune has been summoned for an emergency cabinet meeting!” He was abnormally frantic, sweating as if having run a marathon across Tokyo under the hot sun. Even though it was a teetering to frigid 6 degrees outside at that moment.
He uttered under his breath, “An emergency cabinet meeting?” The Minister looked around, then spoke aloud, “Right away - Gentlemen, please return to your usual duties, but get a bulletin out at least informing foreign embassies.”
With that, the room filled with the sound of shuffling cloth and creaking office chairs as every man stood. Some turned to those next to them and opened the discussion as they began to walk out, others with departing the room swiftly to be their obvious goal - either workaholics or officials who hated the space.
As he left the room and began his descent in a nearby elevator, the minister shuffled through a short profile he’d grabbed. It neatly described the issue, though went into little more detail than was already known - that all contact out of the country was ineffective, and so on. He’d just have to deal with it piecemeal then. Sure, hitting the sides of a problem wasn’t so effective as stabbing right through to the core, but in Kasumigaseki, there was no such thing as too much care.
Finally, the elevator let off a ‘ding’ as it came to the ground floor, metal doors separating for him. Coming into a reception area, he’d walk across some tiled floor with the taps of his shoes echoing as far as they could. It was a busy morning, it seemed, Yoshimune having to slip by and past plenty of people, until finally, the front doors of the building swung aside just as easily as any other would. The Minister, now donning a thick coat over his work attire, stepped out. His first steps were accentuated by the cool yet stagnant water having gathered into a puddle below. He’d sigh, recalling a few angry conversations with site staff, and yet even now the issue still hadn’t been fixed.
Beginning his journey, he’d peek around, eyes expectantly darting across the scene. From the windows around were countless hectic silhouettes dancing about against the extravagant whites and powerful yellows. It certainly would’ve made for a calming scene, almost serene, any other time of year. But not now.
[~]
Kasumigaseki District, Chiyoda Ward
3:14 AM
Looking up to the starry sky leaking past the towers and trees lining the roads, the starry sky he’d known for so long, he’d ponder - what could they have meant it looked different? From what he could tell, it was still a black canvas splattered with white all over, some brighter, some dimmer, and with a distant moon slowly setting. There would need to be proof - justifiable proof that it had changed. Proof that something so deeply flawed had happened. He couldn’t help but read further into what they meant, so he brought his attention back down.
The air was foul with the smell of vehicle exhaust the closer one got to the roads, and nearer to the buildings the temperature more accommodating. From this, it was no surprise the most packed parts of the sidewalk were those against the concrete towers, so he kept to himself - walking dead center. The air was fresh enough as to not have been poisoned, and he didn’t mind the cold.
Around him were dozens of busy men workers clothed similarly to them. Bureaucrats and lowly aides, lanyard and clipped-on IDs - some with papers fresh off the printer, others with battered briefcases, some with coats, and others having settled for jackets. And all with the same jerky movements as they ran to and fro, streaming like ants returning to their colony. The traffic along the road wasn’t any better, endless streams of honking from afar only amplifying as the sounds danced between buildings. Lines of cars, flowing with the same consistency and frequency. They stopped with equally served sections of time between them as traffic lights flicked between red, green, and orange. On any other day, he’d ask himself what department they belonged to, the Ministry of Construction, Defense Agency, perhaps even the MAFF. Of course, this was no ordinary day.
All would be back to normal, all a temporary issue. Already, he could see himself back into his usual tenure, comforted by the luxuries of the time. Yet, of course, it was wishful thinking - the type he took for granted. The minister ran a handkerchief across his forehead, the stretched and faded fabric riding along whichever wrinkle it could most easily follow. He patted his temple twice as it crossed over to his left side before returning it to abode in his coat’s pocket.
[~]
Nagatachō District, Chiyoda Ward
3:23 AM
Eight minutes that felt compressed to one, a packed intersection and streetlights had all long passed during his short walk. A checkpoint and its guards, behind them small parkland with straight paths and snowed-over topiaries.
With a single, swift motion, he'd flash his ID card to one, the clunky sound of a gate turning itself aside as he walked along. Having been waved on through, and walking along the neatly kept pathways, he'd come upon a quaint, wide building that looked greatly out of place. The ancient brickwork was little more than a reminder of the past. Sat amidst the glass and concrete facades of the towers of Kasumigaseki, and nearly a century old, the building was antiquated. The towers loomed over the treeline as if laughing at its inferiority. Something of the past that held no place in modern society. Without a doubt, it was a humble place for what it was, made especially clear when put in comparison to her foreign counterparts.
[~]
Kantei, Chiyoda Ward
3:27 AM
Pushing open the door, and moving past a less than spacious reception area, he’d find himself walking through the hallways. Here, he was called out to by a honeyed voice - that of MITI’s Minister Komura Tsunesaburo - projecting a surprisingly sociable and jovial attitude all things considered.
“Hey, Kawamura!” Yoshimune stopped in the movement for a moment, taking the time to turn around. “So, how's it been?” Tsunesaburo would voice, shuffling over until the two matched pace.
A good man with good ties; an excellent counterpart to him with a specialty towards trade over friendships. They were simultaneously like, yet unlike, both men reasonably confident in their fields and shared many aspects through their policies. Yet the MITI was just that ounce more influential than the MOFA. From this alone, he paled in comparison.
Moving along at a regular pace, they’d have passed by a few paintings mounted to the walls, some depicting bygone legends of ancient Japanese tales, others of more recent Edo and Meiji era stories. Stories of reform, political backstabbing, and age-old rivalries. Displays that most appropriately suited the unease many working in this building had always felt. A feeling now only amplified.
“Same stuff as usual with all these island disputes we've gotta deal with. Well, except for this blackout we’ve now got. You?”
Yoshimune looked his associate over as Tsunesaburo spoke. “Ah, busy - boys down in the Finance Ministry can't quit bugging us for one.”
The pair took a right turn, coming across another hallway with offices on each side.
“So, blackouts.” Tsunesaburo took a breath. “Every firm under the sun’s nagging our offices about it all - I take it you’ve also got a similar issue.”
“Talk about it.” He’d say with a hint of sarcasm in an unusually sharp tone.
“Right. So, you reckon Matsumoto’s gonna have anything in there?”
Yoshimune nodded back, “Probably - I’ve got the feeling that this’ll be almost entirely his issue to deal with, with some of it spilling onto us.”
“The Chinese or Russians?”
“Chinese, no doubt - you heard Sergeyevich’s recent promises about ‘warming relations with the West,’ right? Doesn’t seem bold enough to try pulling something like this.”
They took a left turn, opening a door and now making their way up a set of stairs.
“Why then? They import plenty of stuff from us - doesn’t seem like something they’d do either.” Tsunesaburo’d reason, trying to spin it towards his Ministry as a manager ran past the two.
“No idea honestly - What about the STA or PSIA then? Should have answers by now.”
“We got ahold of the STA earlier and they had nothing - I’d doubt they’d have anything now, but we did get ahold of an internal communique from some NASDA bureaucrat on some irregularity in observed space.” Tsunesaburo would frown, struggling to connect the dots if there were any. “No idea what it is, mind you, or what that’s meant to mean.”
An irregularity in observed space. It sounded, nay, felt significant, as if hinting toward something greater. Yet so vague at the same time that whatever direction it pointed toward was out of sight.
“Disastrous solar flare?”
“Powers still on, so that can’t be it.” Tsunesaburo noted, pointing towards the glowing fluorescent tubes installed above.
Having exhausted all possible ideas as to what could have realistically happened, he’d ponder as the two walked along the winding corridors. It couldn’t have been any disastrous earthquake - such would’ve already hit Japan. Moreso, it couldn’t have feasibly been a belligerent nation, the effects far too widespread for anything of the kind to have happened yet simultaneously only affecting their ability to talk to anyone out of the country. A solar flare was the only thing that could’ve had it all happen simultaneously, yet Tsunesaburo was right. The jarring lights of nearly every building were still on. Even if, at the very least it wasn’t his ministry’s responsibility to provide answers for what happened, he nonetheless wondered with a childlike curiosity.
The two then took another right turn, coming out from the stairwell and having ascended a story.
Having thought to himself, Yoshimune spoke. “Well, look, whatever it is, we’ll have to assume the worst-case scenario is already happening.”
“And what’d that be, Japan disappearing from Earth?” Tsunesaburo would add with a chuckle.
“I guess so,” He’d respond, less confidence in his colleague’s proposal now being displayed, then adding with a similarly sarcastic tone, “But do remember we’re trying to stay within the realm of reality here.”
“Yeah, yeah… But shouldn’t we account for everything that could’ve caused it?” Tsunesaburo cheekily built on. He could’ve sworn he heard him snap his fingers as he said it.
“It’s an improbability by a wide, wide margin.”
They then found themselves by a heavy wooden door, a metal sign sticking out from the top marking it as a pre-meeting briefing room. Opening it, Tsunesaburo would enter, followed by Yoshimune as they found their places.
[~]
Meeting Room, Kantei
3:36 AM
In the middle of the room was a long table, flanked on both sides by thinner tables. By the outer sides of each were rows of microphones accompanied by beige, pushbutton telephones with small placement cards, names, and positions recorded distinctly in onyx ink. Scanning the room, all cabinet-level Ministers and subsequent agency Directors were present, sat along the middle table. On the outer two tables were ones he’d rarely seen - mostly advisors, deputies, and aides - the administrative, slightly lower-level senior officials usually expected to handle the brunt of the paperwork.
Already at the head was the Chief Cabinet Secretary, Takemoto Shoichi, acting leader of the cabinet at that moment. A familiar face to not only all in the room but also nearly all who were up-to-date with the news cycle. His face was wrinkled all over, a distinctive head of well-trimmed grey-speckled black hair atop.
With the light glinting from his golden lapel pin, Shoichi opened the briefing, speaking in the usual dignified manner of formality, “In order to ensure a smooth return to normal operations, we’ll need to ensure we have an initial unified response calling for interagency and interministerial cooperation in the handling of and mitigation in the impacts of a potential worst-case scenario transpiring from this present communications blackout. So, do we happen to have any information on what’s thus far transpired?”
Sunada Ikeda, Minister of the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications, seated far from Shoichi, was first to voice concern with his gravelly voice. “Surveys confirm undersea lines have been severed physically. Though there appears to be no sign thus far of any more line beyond where lines were severed, and alleged change in oceanic geography beyond what is believed to be exactly our maritime border.”
“Any ideas on who could’ve done it?” Shoichi crackled back.
“Actually,” Matsumoto would comment, flicks of urgency behind his tone, “the Defense Agency must report that all ground-based radar systems, key among them those directed towards the mainland, at precisely twelve AM recorded a widespread anomaly, and continue to do so.”
A few concerned heads turned his way, a few more confused as their eyes wandered into the distance. Pursing his lips, Shoichi asked, “What exactly?”
“We’re unsure if it’s a localized error to just radar systems, as the Americans have also reported it to us, but loosening search parameters reveal, well, anomalies in the direction of any land that isn’t ours.”
Shoichi searched through his mind first, having wrinkled his brow before he spoke in a seemingly irritated tone from the vague response. “And by anomalies, you mean what exactly?”
“Well,” Matsumoto would add as his left arm rolled left, carefully selecting his words, “there’s nothing north or west of us. The landmasses have apparently changed, with all Asian nations having disappeared.”
A lanky man with thinned brows, Director-General Yakamochi, then announced, “The Meteorological Agency reaffirms the Defense Agency’s position - we’ve experienced a similar issue with all early warning and radar systems.”
A few eyebrows were raised to his wording, being of reasonably high concern all things considered. For credible sources as the SDF to report radars being on the fritz in such a way that they showed things only one clearly hallucinating should see, was a happening that provoked much confusion.
“Could it be jamming by a belligerent state?”
“That’s just not possible - it would’ve affected far, far more than just our radars, and besides that, they still work.” Matsumoto retorted, going on to have sighed with some disappointment and apprehension.
He’d take a moment to scan the room once more, noting a modestly dressed aide almost silently enter the room. Shuffling with a wad of papers held against their chest, there was an unexpected urgency in their movement as they made way behind the row of busy aides to the one seated behind Director Hirose of the Science and Technology Agency, and whispered in their ear - handing over the short stack.
The second aide stopped as he gave the front a short review, as the former left the room as quietly as they’d entered. Appearing hesitant to do so, they quickly stood up and leaned forward to pass the report, making slight trembles in movement as he did.
The Director raised an eyebrow amidst receiving, body appearing to strain as he looked upon the paper.
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Clearing his throat, he’d begin to announce the information, briefly summarizing the paper as he quickly checked it once, then twice. It was already obvious at that point - Hirose was nervously steeling himself to be the bearer of bad news, but the question remained of what?
“Uh, well, information has come to light from NASDA providing compelling evidence to believe that…” Then a pause. It was only for a few seconds as if the man was still internally processing what he was to say. But that damned lingering hold, as if from a drama film to build tension. It was less than reassuring, especially with the entire brass section having collapsed into organized chaos (had this been a film with a soundtrack). “We appear to no longer be on Earth...”
Cheesy line, but… Well, Yoshimune froze, right there and then. Strange. The response wasn’t quick and direct, but the point it got across. Mere minutes prior, he’d figured the reports of the sky seeming different were a joke. Then Matsumoto’s talk on radar difficulties - surely a coincidental software issue. But now? Had there been no hints of credibility before being lent to Tsunesaburo’s joking theory, this was yet another drip into the slowly filling bucket. Indeed, looking over, Tsunesaburo fidgeted with a gaze that hyperfocused on whoever spoke and eyebrows that had drawn together.
The reception to the information was cold and delivered in ample physical response, some shuffled back in their seats, and others directing an unblinking gaze toward the poor man, a minority voicing their concern directly. Some even almost stood up, both hands firmly on the table before they came back to their senses.
Half the room filled with susurration, led by Minister Murayama Ishimura of the Ministry of Education, Science, Sports, and Culture. He prodded in an accusatory tone, pointing at Hirose with his glasses’ left end between his fingers as if lecturing a child. “That- that can’t be right!” He’d falter, “Are you, no, they, are they sure that’s right? It can’t be!”
Hirose looked back to the reports, slightly crumpled and mere minutes out of a printer. Now speaking with a much weaker voice, “They are confident in the accuracy of their assessment.”
The arise of raucous behavior amongst the usually strictly orthodox men was something to note, as though the situation was to be considered, looking around, it seemed as if they’d gone mad regardless of what they discussed. Yoshimune could do little but shake his head internally and sigh at the resumption of his normal duties being a now likely distant dream in this far-gone world. Of course, he could feel more than just slight annoyance, mixtures of frustration, doubt, and horror - little molecules of norepinephrine, adrenaline, and epinephrine seeping through his mind like hundreds of cars rushing and clogging up highways on a Friday evening. No doubt there was, that these same feelings were shared with the others - with Ikeda and Hitoshi, Kimitada and Kiyoshi.
Thinking to himself, he’d come to a realization - going still as he did. The Prime Minister and his team, and many of their best assets were, put simply, most likely gone. To think they'd be running without much of the senior support with such a disastrous loss, without that experience and reliable capability.
“Why didn’t you say that to us earlier when we asked? That- that’s vital knowledge for whatever the hell is going on!” Matsumoto would impatiently demand, missing beat between sentences.
“F- for…” Hirose found himself unable to keep hold of his words, having shuddered at Matsumoto’s lecture. “Forgive us, this- this information has only just come to light and… been confirmed recently!”
Looking around, Shoichi stood up with a stern look on his face that inspired little confidence. “Cut the bullshit and elaborate on it. Now.” He’d say with a firm voice, inspiring enough confidence for Hirose to snap from his speech paralysis.
Hirose began looking through the text some more, speaking directly from it as he went. “NASDA has reported all deep-space recording and monitoring equipment had experienced major interruptive noise detection at exactly twelve AM, which ceased exactly one minute later. Subsequently, all satellite communications were lost, and reports of the shift of extrasolar system positions have come in, all confirmed by the NAL and ISAS.”
“Extrasolar system positions… Director, are you, no, are all three organizations meaning to say that the night sky itself has shifted?” Shoichi would ask, shooting a squinted glance at the Minister.
A strange thought - to think that something in effect immovable, of which none of them would ever expect in their lifetimes to see move, had moved. Maybe more than strange, entering the territory of entirely unsettling thoughts, just as that of sheer horror.
“Y- yes.”
“It’s entirely impossible!” Was the response by Minister Tsunesaburo, one mimicked in the heads of many in the room.
“Impossible? More than impossible - it’s deluded nonsense! There’s no other way to explain it!” Minister Takayuki echoed out.
Hirose would then continue to read from the paper, albeit faltering little as he did. “Several star charts and photographs of the sky are currently being analyzed and compared…” He faltered, eyes skimming past a line, “the consensus is that these are entirely new, and unrecorded systems, compasses have miscalibrated by themselves with error between one to three point five degrees and verified reports of the horizon’s distance having been increased.”
“Hori-” Ishimura would stutter out, eyes rolling up as he paused. “Horizon distance?!” Ishimura would question in a challenging tone, “They realize for it to have changed the size of the planet would need to have changed as well, and should that have happened, gravity would have noticeably increased!” He’d exasperatedly vent. Hirose once again retracted into his seat like a child at the dinner table being scolded.
Eventually having come to his senses, he’d simply pass over the papers he’d read from across the table to Ishimura, saying not even a peep. The pages contained large volumes of graphs, equations, and terms Yoshimune couldn’t make any sense of from the glimpse he saw.
Ishimura looked at the report once, then wiped away assumed fog on his glasses, having done a double take before revealing his surprise. “I… I… what?” He’d say, whatever confidence there was had evaporated rather quickly. “It appears so? This is… concerning, to say the least.”
“Lies! We should get an independent, expert opinion before we come to such conclusions!” Director Masaaki would abruptly yell out, circles beginning to appear under his eyes.
“We HAVE independent expert opinion - it’s six, no, seven different organizations!” Ikeda would retort.
“I- If this information is accurate, now, in a time of unprecedented crisis, is certainly not the time to argue!” Shoichi called over the four of them, only having to raise his voice slightly. The lot of them were like children with how they were acting. But who could blame them?
Questions, questions, questions - so many, too many. The room returned to a state of hubbub as the attendees began to ask, and served their hot answers to their hot questions to each other.
A wide-eyed Hitoshi spoke up, “What’s the risk of secondary disaster?”
“Minimal, from what we can tell.” Yakamochi of the Meteorological Agency piped up.
“Are the MSDF or MSA able to confirm the land beyond is inhabited?” Minister Katsuo would loudly cut in, asking in either some desperate denial or stubborn panic, though still an entirely valid question. There were beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, tiny and near undetected by anybody, yet Yoshimune would take great notice and wonder. Just how bad was food security going to be an issue for Katsuo to be so worried?
As all began to direct their attention toward the lowly Agriculture, Forestries, and Fishing Minister, Masaaki turned instead to Ikeda, sneering toward him as he flicked his sights between Katsuo and Ikeda.
Should there have indeed been inhabited land, which seemed likely considering they hadn’t all been set alight or frozen solid during the transfer, it’d be an issue spilling onto Yoshimune and the MOFA greatly. An extensively complex issue that he, unfortunately, would have him perform little in delegating and leading solutions for. Yet simultaneously, people like Katsuo and Tsunesaburo would reap many-a great harvests should he have sowed not the wind, but the seeds of growth. Very soon it appeared too, the country would rely on either the DA or the MOFA. Deep down, and likely a shared desire others in the room had, he pinned his hopes on Japan abjuring the DA’s possible heavy involvement.
Matsumoto would read off a document in front of him, “We can expect a solid answer within the hour by MSDF patrol aircraft should they scramble now, but we’ve as yet, we’ve still no idea what we’ll be getting ourselves into. I’ll be sure to inform Commandant Eiji though.” Then facing up and toward Shoichi, he’d send off another sentence, “I can put some Orions from Kanoya out to investigate, but only with permission from the Prime Minister or acting,” only to then be silenced by a second, dissenting opinion.
“It’s too dangerous - we’ve no idea what mess we’re in and may continue to be left in the dark.” Minister Ishimura would reason, seeing their plan to have potentially reckless implementation.
“It’s the only quick option available.” Matsumoto would near instantly remind.
Another across from Tsunesaburo, an aging Minister Matsuzaki Hachiro, would remark with a dry, stretched voice. “We’ll see, but if I may, we’re placing too much emphasis toward the implications of this event instead of our response.”
“Eh?” Shoichi would let out, craning his head toward Hachiro “Our response?” He’d ask, as if unaware of the idea itself. “Well,” He’d go on, adjusting his glasses as he looked around, taking care in choosing the ministry, to begin with. “We’ll need to be decisive on the domestic front to prevent civil disorder and unrest whilst acting mainly with pertinent to this issue, especially over the next few days. I don’t, however, believe in the full capabilities of local Police Departments to be able to handle anything widespread or with far-reaching effects.” Settling his chin between his index finger and thumb, rubbing it with his thumb, Shoichi began to brainstorm ideas.
From the farthest side of the table came a peep in the form of Deputy Minister Magohachi of the Home Affairs Ministry, looking over with an eyebrow raised as he turned from his colleagues. “The public response may provide incredibly adverse conditions for effective governance in the coming days. Thusly, have we any ideas on dealing with it in the event of riots?”
“How about instating martial law then?” A brash Minister Yagami Tomio, of the Ministry of Home Affairs, would ask, slamming down an open palm onto the table. “I’m sure the Self-Defense Forces would be perfectly capable of safely operating units within Japan without potential danger!”
“Article 9 may be a setback. We’ll need the deployment of SDF forces within the country to be under legal conditions.” A MITI aide would remind, scratching his head as he did.
Tomio put his finger to his chin. “The SDF could operate under the official guise of disaster relief, peacekeeping, and a state of emergency!” He’d assert, his cheeks bent to a form slight smile that nearly beamed his confidence with his supposed trump card.
“We’d be unable to do that.” Matsumoto corrected.
There was a short period of quiet in the room, filled only by the awkward flutter of turning pages. And, though unheard, their collective thoughts.
By then, Yoshimune had finally noticed the weakness in his legs alongside a wave of heat. He shifted in his seat somewhat restlessly whilst doing what he could to try and keep it unnoticed - he bit down hard on his lip, dug his fingers into his legs, anything to stop the movement so as to not attract attention to it. In fact, he’d noticed that as the list of ministers went along, all else displayed similar behavior as the clock ticked on, the meeting having seemed to stretch for hours more than what clocks may have said. How long had they been there? How many more issues would they have to deal with?
Breaking the silence, Shoichi himself responded. “There’s no clause in the constitution that makes mention of the Government having emergency powers or the ability to instate a state of emergency,” He’d then pause. “It may only be met with suspicion and further push our country towards a foreseeable worst-case scenario.”
“It could be considered an unwritten law, though I’d let the scholars argue on that. I’d say that our powers under ordinary law are sufficient to cope with a state of emergency.” Minister Yonezawa Masamichi of the Justice Ministry responded to the two, only for a subordinate to place themselves between the three.
Continuing from his last statement, Shoichi set down both hands on the table, grabbing their attention as he did. “Now’s not the time to argue semantics either - we have little time, and the response needs to be both quick and decisive in ensuring the peace.”
Minister Kimitada would then announce with a silvery undertone to his voice. “This is unprecedented, but we only have three real domestic responses - either leave the SDF on standby and let prefectural police handle it, deploy the SDF, or deploy the SDF in limited numbers and regions.” He spoke casually as if it were a regular occurrence to him and his cronies in the Finance Ministry.
“I elect the SDF to be held on alert and only be deployed should local police forces be insufficient - the sudden appearance of military presence might incite panic.” Minister Ikeda would convey, eyes darting across the room.
Ikeda’s answer was followed promptly by Minister Yoshimune and Minister Katsuo speaking out in agreeance. To both men, it was the only decent option available considering the cards they were dealt.
“I second Minister Ikeda’s decision - we should have them ready should the inevitability of foreign conflict occurs.”
“I concur.”
“No, no, local police departments should be perfectly able to handle it - I’d say we don’t have the conditions for any widespread disorder to occur in the first place.” would announce with confidence, his stretched face returning to its usual sullen form once he dried up.
“Are you an idiot?” someone would call out, “We can expect food shortages very soon if we don’t act; the only way to maintain any order is the total deployment of the SDF.” A passionate Minister Takayuki declared with rigor.
Around the table, looks were pitched toward the Health and Welfare Minister, Takayuki looking around for whoever they were paying attention to before realizing it was himself. Heads bobbed up and down as they looked amongst each other, to be broken only by another speaker.
“Look at the total costs already being incurred - we’re projecting them to skyrocket for each second we delay ourselves from opening up to the new international stage!” Tsunesaburo’s voice echoed across the room, followed by the flutter of a page being held up as he raised his arm. It was a graph, one depicting a line moving upward before faltering and becoming stagnant, labeled to be already incurred losses from the already 4-hour communications blackout, and still lackluster government response, alongside projections following an unreasonably strong negative trend. From what it looked like, each second spent in the meeting was a hundred yen lost to the drain, each hour another chance at the already deteriorated foundations of an economy collapsing to dust.
“Although the economic side should be considered, we must focus on our social response above all to maintain human life. Minister Katsuo - do we happen to be self-sufficient in food production?”
Whilst Katsuo spoke, he slowly averted his gaze from the others, as if guilty. “We are forty percent self-sufficient if we were to go by calories alone, but it’s a limited range of food, and I would suspect that rationing is all but guaranteed to be implemented in the near future.”
Following were gasps, some uttering “How could we feed everyone?!” under their breaths, others quietly voicing denial. To many, they felt their hand would be forced should they have wished to last - to take initiative for a first contact scenario, one less than ideal all things considered.
“Minister Tsunesaburo, what were our key imports last year, again?” Shoichi would ask, glaring at the man.
“Uh,” Tsunesaburo nervously would flick out a document from his formal coat, looking for keywords after having flipped it open. He drew his index finger along the lines of text until he found exactly what he wanted - a table conveniently labeled Top 1998 Imports. “Primarily natural energy resources, so coal, oil, and natural gases.”
“Have we any way of securing such resources, or should we expect an oncoming energy crisis?” Kimitada then asked, almost rhetorically, as if knowing the answer was already to be tentative at best.
“We’ve no way to tell for certain, though we’ll likely have to enforce energy rationing - we’re three-fifths reliant on fossil fuels,” pausing somewhat ominously, Tsunesaburo looked back up. “and whatever reserves we have won’t last for long. In the meantime, I’d suggest searching for offshore undersea oil deposits as an investment.”
Shoichi appeared to be pensive as he likely laid out what to do in his head, thinking now along the lines of an uncertain future. “This… changes things greatly;” he’d say, clunkily determining what to ask next, “do we have any other key issues we’ll have to contend with?”
Some relevant discussions began as, once more, those present turned to their colleagues or those nearby for ideas. Yoshimune himself turned over to Tsunesaburo, the pair drawing on ideas for potential international issues. Yet, amidst discussion, they were all interrupted.
“We should expect a major economic decline, and significant downturn in both worker productivity and market activity for the following months to years.” Tsunesaburo pointed out, exuding exaggerated perceived confidence in his own judgment. It couldn’t be said whether he was of any confidence or lack thereof in his assessment, but he sure gave off the idea that he was.
Some eyebrows in the room raised, alongside some opening their mouths to speak, only to close them upon realizing their comments were better left out.
“So we’ll remain stagnant, or worse, in constant decline?”
“Uh, well, things do seem to point in that direction, though we can’t say for sure right now - much of our economy was fuelled by export of advanced electronics, automobiles - reasonably complex domestic goods, so unless we can restart those key sectors alongside driving national growth, I wouldn’t have too much confidence.” Tsunesaburo then went on to say, hands clasped together with his fingers interlocked, elbows just off the table. Looking directly toward Shoichi, his head was slightly tilted downward.
Shoichi gave his words some consideration before craning his head, shifting attention to the DA’s very own Matsumoto, very evidently causing concern within the middle-aged man.
“What if we were forced to head in right away?” Shoichi asked.
“It’s likely there will be some considerable pushback in the Diet should we try to, especially militarily… and we currently lack a strong enough logistical base to so much as consider it.” Matsumoto would answer, having taken no time to think, albeit with suspicion driving his answer.
Yoshimune would quickly add, “The use of force will also require careful assessment of all precursive and peaceful options beforehand to prevent the outbreak of a possible worst-case scenario, were it to come to such a point.” Speaking along the lines of Matsumoto’s initial answer, albeit more directly.
“Minister Yoshimune, is the MOFA presently capable of committing to diplomacy with potential unknown factors?” Shoichi then pressed, unknowing of any of the MOFA’s capabilities.
“We have had a contingency plan for something vaguely similar to this, though few of the strategies outlined would be of any effect. Moreso, we’ve lost most of our best diplomats, so that may be of issue as the majority were abroad in embassies or alongside Prime Minister Nobuharu.” Yoshimune replied, hints of worry seeping into his speech.
“What of foreign nationals - stranded foreign nationals?” Hachiro would enunciate, his speaking still relatively well modulated compared to the others.
Pursing his lips, Yoshimune would give thought to the issue. He’d been stunned - something they couldn’t simply ignore, but also something of such great inconvenience that he resented the thought of the question. His mind struggled, clouding itself whenever he thought he was near an at least satisfactory answer.
“Hold on with the Americans, we can’t simply ignore the million Koreans, near-million Taiwanese, and rough five-hundred-thousand mainlanders presently in the country.” Kimitada would stress, pushing his index finger down onto the lacquered hardwood.
“Considering this… disconcerting problem, Minister Yoshimune, is the Foreign Ministry able to get the thoughts of foreign missions, consulates, and embassies on this?”
“We have already sent out notices to each, though we’ll have to update the information as we go due to the recency of most of this information.”
“What of the Americans and their bases?” Ikeda butted in, scratching the bottom of his nose.
He thought back to just over an hour and thirty minutes ago when he was still in his office in that other meeting. Vaguely remembering his final order, he’d answer, not confident yet disallowing his voice to waver. He’d hoped they’d followed through with what he’d asked. “Ambassador Gardner has been informed of the situation, though has yet to be updated on this recent information.”
It was something to be considered, Yoshimune thought, the American military might being something they still had, albeit in a neutered form. Still, they could prove handy, and of course, it was on their bases, so really, it was an issue for Matsumoto to handle. Then again, they were still foreign nationals, for which he would still be responsible. He looked around after providing his answer, he wouldn’t have to wait long for somebody else to begin speaking. In the background still, there was writing, yet now more frantic as the aides paid closer attention, having long fixed their slouched postures.
“We might have another Anpo on our hands if we let the American forces on too long of a leash for any amount of time.” Hachiro would add, furthering Ikeda’s query.
“Notify their ambassador and whichever highest ranking officer you can get to put themselves into high alert posture.” Shoichi would ask of Yoshimune, eyebrows furrowed as his forehead deformed to match.
“Hold on, we could get Ambassador Guiying and Representative Chang to combine and handle the Chinese and Taiwanese, shared cultural identity and all,” Takayuki answered, speaking up as soon as Katsuo clammed up. It quite seemed their Health and Welfare minister was… less than aware as to the implications of his idea.
“No, no! The mainlanders would probably riot over it!” Yoshimune would contend, having given no moment’s notice before he spat it out.
“We’ll get the embassies to vote on what they respectively wish to do, representing their respective nations’ wishes as an interim measure then.” Shoichi would say after about ten seconds of quiet in the room, all men having been in deep thought.
Hachiro then spoke again, asking all in the room a simple question. “So how will we break the news to the public?”
“I’ll issue a press conference after our next assembly,” with that, an aide of Shoichi stood and departed silently, as if on cue to schedule the very press conference mentioned. “But to avoid any unnecessary incitation of panic, will go through all plans we may have. Beyond this, I feel we’ve handled most if not all the key issues to be resolved; let us adjourn and reconvene within the hour for a secondary meeting. And Matsumoto, I want a patrol flight in the air by the time we’re back.”
Matsumoto nodded in return. The group all stood up simultaneously, waiting a second before filing out of the door like machines on an assembly line - an aide holding it open for all as they spilled out into the hallway in order of seniority.
[~]
Conference Room, Kantei
6:49 AM
Finding their seats around a long table, the Cabinet members took a moment of personal reflection as their eyes darted around the room. To each other and to those around.
The chairs were stiff, four-legged in nature, just as they were in the prior meeting room. Their cushions were deep maroon and uncomfortably soft, the wood a well-polished cypress that was an impressively dull beige.
Atop the sides of the main table were microphones accompanied by small placement cards for each chair. Their names and positions were listed clearly in thick, jet-black kanji. Scanning the room, all cabinet-level Ministers and Director-Generals were present, all sat along the middle table. On the outskirts - three tables on the left, rear, and forward side, with a row of chairs on the right. Sat upon were a few he’d seen only on short occasions, yet easily, he’d at least recognize them to be advisors and subordinates to those on the main table. Their IDs were proudly on display as they both read and listened intently. Some leaned inwards, others somewhat more laidback - some writing on provided notepads, others reading from what looked to be a short dossier with rapid blinks, yet all displaying the unmistakable symptoms of anxious fear, and unease.
A large projector screen on one side of the room lit up, text appearing on-screen summating what Shoichi was to say in neat dot points.
“To preface this meeting, verified information sourced from multiple parties has… come about that the State of Japan has spontaneously and arbitrarily manifested from Earth to a presently unknown planet and location.” Dull-eyed flat gazes met Shoichi as heads tipped to the side, some light sounds of gasps as certain aides rushed to cover their mouths. “With the confirmed vacancy of Prime Minister Nobuharu, this cabinet is to resign en masse under Article 70.” Shoichi would communicate uninterrupted, touches of quake present in his orotund voice. They were light, nearly undetected by all save for the most scrutinous of those present.
There were gasps yet no interruptions by antsy officials pelting him with questions. The concoction of anxiety, doubt, and dread was ever so clearly written all over the advisors’ faces, regardless of how much effort they put into mimicking confidence.
The projector clicked onto the next slide. Depicted were three photographs of the night sky. The one on the left, labeled to be the night sky from 10:00 PM the previous day. The central photograph depicted the expected flurry of white specks from 3:29 AM the same day, both well within the norm and displaying correctly what things should have resembled. The one on the right was different. The ‘Night Sky as of 3:10 AM, Today,’ was depicted, an oddity put next to the others. As were the stars, having moved on their own - some dimmed, many others turned on or brighter, and some seemingly having outright extinguished.
Yet most noticeably amongst all three images was the moon, so slightly off from the others. Still a massive orb of white in the night sky, yet so slightly different with its patterns of dark gray upon light, it was uncanny.
All aeronautical administrations and organizations have confirmed the change of extrasolar systems relative to Japan, and of such extrasolar star positions being of unrecorded and unknown nature with reports in changes of the moon's appearance, and an alleged though unverified second moon. These reports are currently being put through thorough investigation in order to verify the validity, though, at present, they report the claims to be likely true.”
The response was less so enthusiastic than initially, whatever extreme emotions there were being suppressed well as the room delved to quiet once the next slide had presented itself, a certain realization setting into the room’s attendees.
More photographs. And once more of the sky. Both depicted the ocean dark, waves settled, and peeks of sunlight rushing across the wide, open canvas above. Like a picturesque frame from the ending of a romantic film. Yet something was off. The sky and seas had widened, if only by a little. And just out of frame to the bottom left was a strip of another smoky-grey orb, laid flat at the horizon. To this sight, there were a few whimpers, unknown to what they cried from.
“The horizon has to been confirmed to be six-thousand-six-hundred meters from one point eight meters above sea level by NASDA teams and individual observers. The National Land Agency further confirms the change in oceanic geography exactly twelve nautical miles from land, consistent with maritime borders, and that all land under Japanese administration is accounted for. The northern islands under Russian administration have remained, with SDF radars confirming such.” Shoichi concluded, making for a convenient segue to Director-General Matsumoto’s expected deluge of information to come.
The slide changed again, the projection now displaying several monochromatic monitors. On them were jumbled messes of white, somewhat complex contours - ones centered most recognizable as regions of Japan, and those outlying simply unrecognizable. Their shapes were of no known nature, ‘nor were they of any known nation. There simply was no Korean Peninsula, ‘nor Sakhalin, just as mentioned.
The reception was still lacking, much of the discussion isolated to those sitting next to each other turning and conferring. Once more, there were gasps - some almost springing from their seats as something was pointed out. It was somewhat repetitive at this point, but it couldn’t be helped - each new group dumbfounded as the one before, and just as curious.
The tensed muttering rose slightly in volume, one saying “is that?” out from the crowd.
Another replied, “looks like it,” coming three seats from the original commenter.
The main table, on the other hand, continued to remain silent - each Minister, though still stressed as they were an hour ago, if not more. Each of them focused primarily on whoever was speaking, heads bobbing between the speaker and the projection. Their postures were tense, some impatiently huffing, others secretly begging in their minds for reassurance that it was all but a dream.
The geographic point of interest to all was a perversion of reality as if fabricated by man, machine, or gods. Just directly northwest of Japan lay two islands, both teardrop shaped, and both oddly shaped the same, resemblant to the Yin-yang of Chinese philosophy. And strangely enough too, for it to have resembled an ancient Chinese concept. Something only a deity could express in such a form.
Speaking with all the certainty that Matsumoto and Yakamochi had allowed for, Shoichi went on to declaim any doubt or denial by nay-sayers. “The Defense Agency and Meteorological Agency have only further confirmed and verified these claims, all radar systems displaying the same of unknown landmasses toward our west.”
“The key objectives for mitigation of crisis impacts will be to primarily ensure the safety of Japanese citizens via close collaboration with regional and municipal governments through full implementation of a combination of reactive and proactive measures, provision of timely and adequate information to the general public in regards to the future, the provision of a stable foundation for our successors to continue from, and ensuring the outbreak of a foreseeable worst-case scenario does not occur through pushing legislation aimed toward maintaining the resilience of Japan.”
As Shoichi quieted, the projection would change slides with a clack to a map of major airports, dots depicting the expected locations of international flights lighting up the green and blue backdrop. Most alarmingly, there were dozens, if not hundreds to have appeared.
Swallowing before he did, a croaky Tsunesaburo began to speak, “In coordination with the Ministry of Transport and Home Affairs in ensuring citizen safety, stricter and national travel bans are currently being implemented, with special government permission to be required for international travel. Economic interests have been assessed to be of least concern relative to those of social and safety needs amongst the civil populace.”
Looking up, the rest of the room sat almost disinterested in what he had to say, like students in their final Friday class, itching for the bell to ring. Of course, the unusual quiet was rather from the crowd’s apprehension toward the situation, almost anything now on the table for anticipation considering their circumstances. And the group still paid attention, listening with care to each word that was crafted and used.
“Teams of the Civil Aviation Bureau are en route to major airports to conduct and assist with the supervision of airport personnel. We expect airports to reach capacity within three hours with the grounding and redirection of all flights currently underway. Moreso, all civilian maritime craft have been called to port. Investigation into returned aircraft has so far demonstrated abnormalities in flight instruments capable of recording having occurred precisely at twelve AM.
No casualties have been reported thus far, and operations are continuing at a smooth pace. We can further expect little delay, and for operations to be complete by nine AM.”
At least there was some relief, narrowed eyes and yes-man nods now the prevailing reaction as the rows of black-haired men gave silent approval.
Director-General Matsumoto then began, opening with a few words to be met by more anxiety. “The Defence Agency has deemed the situation to be permissible for the deployment of Self-Defense Forces, and under orders of the acting Prime Minister, Chief Cabinet Secretary Shoichi, are to be dispatched nationally to prevent displacement of normal capabilities in urban centers at high risk of civil unrest.”
The room grew unusually quiet, as yet again, the reception had come as a shock. And with so little consultation with the Diet too. There was even a ‘ptchoo’ sound from the sides as if someone had spat out their drink. Yet no liquid flew. Some were intimidated, others in visible discomfort, yet most were still discouraged. The reasons for the SDF’s deployment would have to be exact were they to have inspired any confidence, and of any importance was now the legal debate to come. Sure, it was an unprecedented event that called for unprecedented measures. But was it extralegal or plainly illegal?
“Current projections place the majority of unrest to most likely occur within urban centers of Kanto, Chubu, and Kansai, ordered by severity. Subsequently, the 1st and 34th Infantry Regiments and 1st Aviation Squadron are currently being deployed to the Greater Tokyo Area for urban peacekeeping operations in order to safeguard citizen safety and prevent the outbreak of mass panic. In supplement, 10th Division assets as with their heavier armor could be brought up on short notice.”
Blanked and grimaced faces were what these words were met by, frowns upon sweat-moistened faces, and slight headshakes as they came upon the further realization of what was most likely the implementation of martial law implemented in the capital. And such was communicated through honeyed words that made only some sense to them. Here, those who did raise their brows did so more than the initial announcement of the country’s untimely leave from Earth.
“The remainder of the Central and Eastern Armies have been put on high alert for deployment into urban centers should peacekeeping efforts by local and prefectural police forces be deemed inadequate. The Northern, North-Eastern, and Western Armies are currently on standby, and can rapidly be deployed to urban centers within the hour of the order.” Matsumoto continued, pitching his head upward only to receive their silent judgments. Yet, he steeled himself to continue reading out despite the many suspicious glances made toward him - it was all for the best, right?
“Furthermore, a request has been made to the MSDF for the patrol deployment of P-3 Orion maritime patrol aircraft stationed across Japan to assess the international situation currently being experienced outside of Japan.”
To this, there was yet more shock - sure, it made perfect sense, but those around couldn’t help satiate the flecks of rising paranoia. Yet for their deployment to have been a decision on the table, there was no telling as to how the Diet would respond - with laughter, hesitancy, or argumentative roars.
There was no doubt, only dread.