Carmelita's expression darkened as the story progressed. Zion's ruthless quest for power and "purification" was deeply disturbing. His use of nuclear weapons, the weaponization of radiation, the casual sacrifice of his own people—it was all callous, inhuman. And then there was his treatment of women, the twisted "farm" for fertile females, his obsession with genetic purity. It painted a terrifying picture of a man driven by fanatical ideology.

A message flickered into her VR display: "You have spent 2 hours in the virtual world. Return to the real world, Ma'am? Or continue?"

Carmelita paused, the message momentarily pulling her from Zion's world. The real world called, with its own set of complexities. But the virtual world offered a compelling escape, a chance to witness history firsthand… the history of the Red Nation.

She hesitated. Logic urged her back to reality, to her responsibilities. But the pull of the virtual world, the desire to understand Zion and his rise to power, was strong.

In the aftermath of his conquests on the West Coast, Zion had become a major power in North America. He'd also developed a new approach to warfare. "Nukes are messy," he’d declared. "Slaves are much more efficient." He realized that obliterating populations was counterproductive; he needed manpower to build his new nation. Enslavement would provide that.

He also found that ruling a diverse population was… complicated. So, he opted for a classic solution: bread and games. He built a grand colosseum and took to the arena himself, becoming a gladiator hero to boost his political standing. He always chose a worthy opponent; Zion had a taste for a real challenge.

As he delved deeper into the intricacies of ruling, Zion realized that the concept of "tribal" was not merely a race or a group of people; it was an idea. This notion stemmed from a group of bored individuals who, during the aftermath of a global EMP event, found themselves trapped in a library. They immersed themselves in stories of ancient Americans who hunted bison and farmed for sustenance, aspiring to eliminate the concept of money altogether.

Zion recognized the danger of this mindset for his vision of a new world order. Without an understanding of industry, these tribes rejected the very foundations of progress, which was why they had fought with Stone Age tactics in the past. The absence of industry meant no guns, and without guns, there could be no conquest—an alarming prospect for his ambitions.

“i must destroy all those books!” zion declare. and with that. he had reason to wage war, again.

Keith, one of Zion's lieutenants—a burly man wielding a massive shield—gripped his pistol and said to the red-headed Zion, "We all know your arena skills, but war is a different beast."

"You'll see," Zion replied with a confident smirk, ready to embrace the chaos.

Later, amidst a deafening cannon barrage, Keith shouted, "The enemy's fortified the mountains!"

Zion's eyes narrowed. "You will charge head-on while I flank them from the side."

In the Barlas camp, a soldier yelled, "The free world is storming the front!" Barlas sneered, "Fools! Unleash the artillery on them!"

"Barlas's artillery rained down on Keith's advancing troops, but it was a feint. Zion, leading a small strike force, scaled the cliffs under cover of the barrage, taking the enemy from behind. The Barlas flag was torn down, replaced by the crimson banner of the Free World. "Look, comrade!" Keith exclaimed, adrenaline surging. "It's time to advance!"

Later, Zion confronted Barlas in his tent. Without warning, Barlas fired at him, but Zion deflected the bullet effortlessly. "Follow me," he commanded, his voice cold and steady.

Barlas, bewildered, trailed behind Zion outside the camp. Zion gestured to a woman and some children bound near his men. "Do you recognize them?" he asked, a sinister smile creeping across his face.

Barlas spat to the side, realization dawning. "I know now. You want to humiliate me in front of my own family?"

"If you lose this duel, your family will be sent to the farms," Zion declared, discarding his weapon with a casual flick.

"You're a maniac duelist, huh?" Barlas shot back defiantly. The two men clashed in a brutal hand-to-hand fight, and after a fierce struggle, Zion pinned Barlas down, delivering a final, crushing blow that silenced him forever.

Later, Zion watched the aftermath on the battlefield at evening. Gunshots could still be heard as some soldiers tried to loot and kill the remaining survivors.

"We lost about 1400 men," Keith reported.

"This is nothing," Zion replied, "the road to California is still long..."

As he walked away, he overheard Keith muttering to another officer, "Fourteen hundred men… for a few cannons and some farmland. Is this what victory looks like?" Zion's jaw tightened. He knew the whispers would spread. He needed a swift victory, something to silence the dissent. California would have to wait. First, he had to solidify his hold on this new territory.

In the newly conquered territory, Zion erected a temple to Julius Caesar, channeling his frustrations through political maneuvers and the thrill of battle. However, time was not on his side. While his war efforts progressed, prolonged conflict was taking a toll on morale and the economy. The people needed rest and a chance to rebuild, prompting Zion to expedite his plans and accept vassalage.

One day, two men arrived at Zion's camp: Corvo from Cascadia and Bartoleme from Las Vegas, responding to his invitation.

"We come from Cascadia, and he's from Las Vegas," Corvo stated.

The guard nodded. "Very well, but remember the rules once you enter the tent. Don't discuss how you treat your women in front of him."

Corvo raised an eyebrow but complied. After wishing them luck, the two men entered Zion's camp, kneeling before him. Corvo presented a chest, while Bartoleme offered a suitcase. Zion acknowledged their gifts.

"There are two rules if you wish to join the Khaganate," Zion declared. "First, do not question my war strategies. Second, all your women will be sent to the farms."

The men exchanged puzzled glances.

"We have no issue with the first," Corvo said, his voice steady. "But what about the second?"

Zion regarded Corvo for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between them, a heavy weight in the air. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "You must prove your worth." he continue “either in the arena or in battle. I don't care if you're the leader of Cascadia; in this new nation, everyone is equal. Cascadia has been idle, so you must demonstrate your loyalty first," Zion replied firmly.

Later, as they exited the camp, Bartoleme remarked sarcastically, "Congratulations, you've saved Cascadia from Zion's invasion. But farewell to your wives, heh..."

Corvo frowned. "How can you still smile like that?"

Bartoleme shrugged. "In Las Vegas, many women are already sterile. Zion doesn't want those women on his farms, so..."

Corvo nodded, understanding. "Oh, I see... Do you have any children?"

"No, I don't," Bartoleme replied.

"And that's what makes us different..." Corvo murmured.

Weeks later, Corvo watched in horror as a line of women was dragged to trucks in the city. "Oh God, please forgive me," he whispered, realizing the full extent of Zion's rule.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Then, sleek, futuristic aircraft descended from the sky, landing heavily in Zion's camp. His radar systems hadn't even registered their approach. Soldiers in gleaming white armor emerged, their weapons unlike anything Zion had ever seen. One of them approached, holding out a data pad. 'Warlord Zion,' the soldier said, his voice amplified by a built-in speaker. 'You are summoned to the Citadel of the White Nation. The New World Council has matters to discuss with you.'

This council, a more effective version of the old United Nations, The world is not entirely lawless; it is governed by the New World Council (NWC). The NWC consists of four major nations, each identified by a color nickname for easier recognition in a chaotic world.

First is the White Nation, also known as the Holy People Council. These survivors from Madagascar endured a nuclear holocaust and a great flood, preserving advanced technology that allows them to operate sophisticated factories and even flying cars. Uniquely, they are ruled by artificial intelligence.

Next is the Yellow Nation, referred to as the Golden Caravan. They are a modern nomadic horde equipped with armed trains, located in what was once Europe.

The third is the Black Nation, or the Great Caliphate, named for its oil-rich resources. Situated in the Middle East, they have adopted a somewhat fundamentalist ideology following the death of their messiah centuries ago after defeating the Dajjal.

Finally, there is the Pink Nation,or the sisterhood of south, a feminist power base in Central Africa.

These four major nations have decided to restrain smaller nations and warlords like Zion from waging war before the year's end, or they will face the consequences of their military might.

To join the NWC, Zion must race against time to strengthen his position and conquer as much land as possible to secure his own color in this new order. However, wargames are not simply about deploying soldiers in empty territories; he must be strategic and avoid the wastelands.

Later, on the East Coast, a Los angles, coastal city fortified city with a single highway in and out was spotted, surrounded by desert and hilly terrain—perfect for Zion's forces to make a grand entrance.

as place of birth place of cinema. capturing the movie tech will be boost his reputation. war is not about battles. but about propaganda. capture this mean complete conquest.

The general examined the map, scratching his head. "Well, folks, we have two options: we can either brave the treacherous sea or take our chances overland. But let's be real, they've probably turned the desert into a minefield by now," he said, shaking his head.

Gen2 piped up, "Yeah, too bad we don't have Jozen anymore. If we had a competent navy, we could—"

Zion's eyes narrowed, and he lunged at Gen2, hands around his throat. "Don't you dare utter that cursed name again!" he snarled, his fury palpable. Gen2 nodded vigorously, realizing he had just stepped on a landmine of his own.

Keith, sensing the tension, suggested, "Before we launch a major attack, it seems we need to cleanse the officers first, Zion."

Zion agreed. "Yes, send the new officers to lead the first wave."

Gen1, the first general, smirked. "Ah, sending them to clear the mines? I like that."

Later, on the battlefield, Keith turned to Gen1 and asked, "Ever seen a World War I documentary?"

Gen1 lowered his binoculars, looking puzzled. "No, why?"

Keith chuckled darkly. "Well, you're about to witness it firsthand—thousands of people advancing in waves, then snap—they're gone. Just like that!"

After the initial wave, Zion surveyed the battlefield like a kid in a candy store—if that candy store was filled with land mines and the candy was made of blood. "Alright, folks, the land mines should be nicely cleared after the first wave. Some groups can advance further before they meet their glorious end. Send the second wave in again before we roll out the tanks. Let’s keep the chaos rolling!"

Gen1 nodded. "Yes, sir!"

In the tank line, Keith leaned over to Kassandra, a striking figure in her black military suit adorned with a skull symbol "Your turn will come after the second infantry wave."

Kassandra, preparing for battle, said, "I hope this isn't like the Golan battle. I'll have bulldozers ready on the second tank line."

Keith encouraged her, "You always know what you're doing. Good luck."

Kassandra closed her tank lid, signaling her readiness. "Cavalry, let's roll."

As the dust settled from the fierce battle, Kassandra's tank group advanced into a chaotic landscape, littered with craters from cannon fire, broken barbed wire, trenches, and a buffet of dead bodies. It was a real-life horror show, and they were the main attraction.

Zion, leading the infantry, swaggered down Kassandra's tank trail like he was strutting down a catwalk. Corvo and Keith watched from the rear, their expressions a mix of disbelief and mild amusement.

"Wait, he's jumping into the battle himself?" Corvo asked, eyebrows shooting up.

Keith smirked, "Of course! Why don’t you join him? It’s not like you have anything better to do."

Corvo fell silent, contemplating his life choices.

Keith continued, "If you keep this up, you won't gain any position in this country."

Corvo sighed. "I don't want anything. I just want to see my wife and child again."

Keith punched Corvo's shoulder playfully. "And this is your golden ticket, my friend! This might be the last front in North America. If you and your army succeed, you’ll be rolling in rewards—maybe even a family reunion!"

Corvo squinted through his binoculars. "Who's the woman with the tank?"

Keith replied, "That’s Kassandra. She’s like you—a vassal of Zion. She has territory in South America."

Corvo raised an eyebrow. "Kassandra? The leader of the Crimson Eagle? Why did she join Zion? Her territory is thousands of kilometers away."

Keith shrugged. "She’s not like us. Most of us joined Zion to survive. But she seems to have her own agenda, probably because of her war with Jozen. She needs allies... or maybe just a good excuse to blow things up."

Corvo nodded, understanding the game. "Many nations rise and fall quickly after the great war. The Crimson Eagle is one of the few that has managed to hold on—like a cockroach in a nuclear apocalypse."

Later, on the battlefield, the first line of tanks was obliterated by enemy RPGs and cannon bunkers, turning the landscape into a twisted metal graveyard. people burning alive at inside their tanks

Kassandra, undeterred, commanded, "I expected this. Quickly, use the bulldozers to clear the tank wreckage in front!"

Between the burning tanks, Zion and his men charged forward, launching an all-out assault on the enemy positions like a bunch of caffeinated squirrels.

Corvo, watching the chaos unfold, quipped, "Look at him! He’s using the wreckage and smoke as shields. That’s both brave and utterly bonkers. Is he always like this?"

Keith chuckled, "Oh, absolutely! It’s like a circus act, but with more explosions!"

Corvo, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and questionable judgment, rallied his troops. "The battle will soon end! Cascadia forces, prepare! We will capture that hill!" He glanced at the young and old soldiers, all equally confused but ready to charge.

Keith wished him luck and handed Corvo a red banner. "Good luck."

Corvo rushed forward with his men, holding the red banner high.

Zion, seeing the red banner on the hill, asked, "Who is that?"

Leon, another officer, replied, "A new officer from Cascadia."

Zion recognized him. "Ah, Corvo. Very well, prepare yourselves. California is within reach!"

The men taunted, "Highway to hell!"

The Khaganate generals and Zion stood atop a hill, gazing down at California. They had captured the hill, and beyond it lay the once-fortified city of Los Angeles. After the sea had risen, the city had transformed into a Venice-like maze, with only one road in and out.

Keith pointed out a slight hiccup. "We have a small issue. Our forces will run into refugee groups on the highway. If we wait for them to pass, we’ll lose the element of surprise."

Zion, seizing the moment, declared, "That means the highway isn’t mined... Kassandra!"

Kassandra, clearly thrilled, sighed heavily. "What now?"

Zion commanded, "Use your tanks to clear the path."

Kassandra rolled her eyes. "okay boss, but this better not turn into a mess."

Corvo, hesitant, tried to intervene. "Wait!"

Zion stared at Corvo, and Keith tried to dismiss him, but Zion silenced him. "What are you thinking, Corvo?"

All the generals looked at Corvo, tension high.

Corvo suggested, "Let my forces follow right behind Kassandra."

Zion accepted. "Agreed."

Later, Kassandra questioned Corvo's strategy. "Why are your militia forces behind me? They're just children and old people. You can't even match the speed of my tanks."

Corvo remained silent, determined.

Kassandra, annoyed, said, "Fine, don't bother me later."

The cavalry thundered down the highway to California, barreling toward a sea of desperate refugees.

An old man turned to Corvo, bewildered. "Why are we hauling so little firepower and so much medical gear?"

Corvo sighed heavily, "Our goal here is to... at least reduce the death toll..."

Moments later, Kassandra's tanks plowed through the refugees, turning the highway into a scene of utter horror as they obliterated everything in their path.

Corvo, horrified, bellowed, "Move! Get out of the way or you'll be crushed!"

His men scrambled to save as many refugees as they could, but the sheer number was overwhelming. The Khaganate's main army surged forward, using the cleared highway as their gateway.

Keith, spotting Corvo tending to the wounded, called out, "Corvo! Use my medical supplies. Our artillery team hardly touches them!"

Corvo, drenched in blood, nodded gratefully. "Thanks, I appreciate it..."

a highway turn into red,,

meawhile kassandra, leading her tank division, was giddy with anticipation. "HAH! We're almost there! Tell Corvo to scout ahead!" she commanded.

The operator hesitated. "But ma'am, Corvo is far behind, focused on the refugees."

Kassandra scoffed, "WUT? That guy... Fine! Hold your positions, boys. We’ll wait for the stragglers."

On the California side, a soldier reported, "Sir, the enemy is closing in!"

The commander was stunned. "What! How is that possible? They should still be at the border! Are the anti-tank positions ready?"

The soldier grimaced. "No, sir, they’re not ready, and Jozen's reinforcements haven't arrived... What do we do?"

The commander sighed, "They’re capable of slaughtering innocents on the highway just to get here faster... Alright, prepare the white flag."

Later, all enemies surrendered, and Zion's convoy rolled triumphantly into the city. He stepped forward to deliver a speech:

"Citizens of California, I stand before you today as your new leader. I have vanquished our foes and united North America under one flag. This is a historic day, but it’s just the beginning of our journey.

"Our nation is forged in blood and fire. We have endured much, but we have persevered. We are a strong and resilient people, and we will conquer any challenge that dares to stand in our way."

"Our nation is red. Our blood is red. Our flag is red. And our spirit to unite is red. We are one people, and we will stand together.

"I swear to rule you with fairness and wisdom. We will create a world where all are free and equal.

"The Red Nation has been born! Long live the Red Nation!"

The crowd chanted, "FREE WORLD! FREE WORLD!"

Meanwhile, Zion's speech continued to play on every monitor in the city, even weeks later.

Corvo sat in his room on the high floor of an apartment. Kassandra visited him.

"May I come in?" Kassandra asked.

Corvo nodded, and Kassandra sat beside him.

"Are you angry about what happened on the highway?" Kassandra inquired.

"No... I know you were just following orders," Corvo replied.

"Good to hear. Do you drink?" Kassandra asked.

"No," Corvo said.

"Good," Kassandra said, walking to the window. "Hah! Look at him... He talks about a free world, liberation... What do you think?"

She took a sip from her drink. "Don't worry... I'm not testing you. I'm not like Zion."

Corvo was skeptical. "Is that so? Then why are you here?"

Kassandra smiled. "For the same reason you are..." then she pouring herself a drink. Zion’s… methods are starting to make my people uneasy,” Corvo admitted. Kassandra nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the city below. “He demands a great deal,” she said quietly. She paused, then turned to Corvo, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “Perhaps we should talk more about this… later.”

Zion stood on the balcony of his newly acquired palace, overlooking the city. The once-bustling metropolis was now under his control, a testament to his ruthless ambition. Zion pondered, "We should ask ourselves... why, deep in our hearts, do people like violence?"

Keith, his loyal lieutenant, approached him.

"Zion, we've conquered half of North America. What's next?" Keith asked.

"The whole world," Zion replied, his eyes gleaming with ambition.