Zion stepped into the neon-lit chaos of the Nusantara Union, he flanked by his pretorian amazon guard. hence now with many new faces among them.
the orange soldier then make a way for zion. they then arrive at once a complex of temple. but with neon and half nude woman dancing,
his eyes widening at the vibrant display. The city felt like a twisted version of Las Vegas, with its flashing lights and glassy facades. As he approached the transparent building, surrounded by exotic park, he Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pushed through the entrance.
Inside, he found Alam and Monsoon Banyan deep in conversation, their voices a blend of intensity and purpose. Zion took a seat and observed them, feeling a mix of anticipation and tension. The atmosphere was charged. When the discussion finally came to a pause, Alam and Zion exchanged glances across the table.
Banyan smiled, sipping his tea. “Zion, welcome to our meeting. It’s not often we have such a civilized conversation between our sides. I have high hopes for a positive outcome.”
Zion returned the smile, “It’s indeed a pleasure to meet in this setting. I, too, hope our discussions will yield fruitful results. Let’s set aside our differences and work toward a brighter future.”
Alam set his tea down, a teasing smile crossing his lips. “Good to see you. You’re a bit paler in person than on screen.”
Zion chuckled, “It’s a pleasure to see you as well, Alam. Yes, I may be a tad more pale than usual. The stress of leadership can take its toll. But I’m glad we’re finally meeting face-to-face.”
“Alright then. As we know, the Crescent Alliance’s main army is arriving in my territory, ready for a long, bitter fight against you. They’ve even given me a special place at the next conference to rally support from the world leaders against you.”
Zion nodded, the weight of Alam's words sinking in. “Yes, the Crescent Alliance has gathered their forces. They’re prepared for a protracted battle, and I understand they plan to offer you a prominent role at the conference in exchange for your support.”
“Exactly. If it comes to it, you’ll lose... on paper,” Alam said, a hint of satisfaction in his tone.
Zion stared intently at Alam. “So you believe I will lose at the conference? But do you really think the Crescent Alliance will honor their word and give you that special place?”
“I do believe,” Alam said, sighing heavily. “But before all the world turns against you, why not just surrender? You’ve gained a lot of territory already.”
Zion shook his head stubbornly. “You make a good point. I have acquired a lot of territory—and I could surrender. But it’s not the land I care about; it’s the people living there. I want to create a better world for them and protect them from the Crescent Alliance. That’s why I won’t surrender.”
Alam laughed lightly. “You can say that if you’re the defender, but everyone knows you’re the aggressor. To protect your loved ones, you should stop being the aggressor.”
Zion paused, contemplating Alam’s words. He realized the truth in them. As the aggressor, he was indeed a threat to global stability. Yet surrendering meant losing everything he’d fought for. It was a damned-if-I-do, damned-if-I-don’t situation.
“So…” Alam prompted.
Zion sighed, looking deeply at Alam. “What should I do? Surrender and end this conflict, or continue fighting to protect the people in the territories I’ve gained? It’s a difficult choice, but I don’t want to betray the trust of those who follow me.”
Alam’s voice softened. “I can see the grim fate on your face. If you surrender, perhaps we could have a better world. But without international support, someone will kick you from power.”
Zion nodded solemnly. “That’s a distinct possibility. If I surrender, someone else will seize control. It would be worse than defeat in battle because I’d lose everything I’ve worked for.”
“Don’t you want peaceful times?” Alam asked, a hint of sympathy in his tone. “Like when you were nobody, wandering without a care?”
“I would love peaceful times,” Zion admitted, weariness creeping into his voice. “I've been through so much conflict and violence, and I’m tired of it. I want to live without fear, but as a leader, I can’t just sit back. I have to ensure the safety of my people, even if it means making tough decisions.”
Monsoon Banyan listened intently, his eyes glimmering with interest. He remained silent, sipping his tea as he absorbed their conversation.
After a moment of reflection, Alam broke the silence. “What are your hobbies?”
Zion laughed, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “Good question! I suppose I don’t really have hobbies. I spend most of my time reading and studying. I enjoy observing the world around me and discussing different perspectives with others. It helps me gain insight and express my thoughts.”
“Ah, but I think your true hobby is defeating your enemies in war games,” Alam teased.
Zion smirked, “Well, you’re not wrong about that. There’s satisfaction in outsmarting my opponents. It keeps my strategic thinking sharp, so I suppose you could say that defeating enemies in war games is indeed one of my hobbies.”
“Do you know how to defeat me?” Alam asked, a challenge in his voice.
Zion paused, considering the question. “I’ve spent a lot of time studying your strategies. I believe I have a good understanding of your military operations and could develop counter-strategies. It would be a challenging fight, but with the right preparation, I think I could defeat you.”
Alam leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and a bemused smile dancing on his lips. "You know what I admire about you, Zion? Your persistence. The world is against you, yet you remain optimistic. Or perhaps delusional, considering the mess we're in."
Zion chuckled, a sound that was both light-hearted and tinged with the weight of reality. "Delusional? Maybe. It would be easier to throw in the towel and wallow in pessimism. But I believe hope and optimism are essential for a leader. Some may call it delusion, but I call it determination." He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with fervor. "I will keep pushing forward, no matter the odds."
Alam raised an eyebrow, his expression playful yet probing. "So, no matter how many territories you conquer, you won’t stop, huh?"
Zion shook his head, a resolute grin spreading across his face. "Absolutely not. I won’t stop fighting for my people, not against the Crescent Alliance or anyone else. My goal is to unite the world under one flag." He paused, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Sure, it might sound a tad delusional, but that’s just who I am. I believe in my cause."
Alam laughed softly, a sound like bubbling water. "But why one flag? Doesn’t that sound a bit boring? Like a world made entirely of oatmeal?"
Zion’s laughter joined Alam’s, brightening the room. "You make a fair point. A single flag might drain the color from our lives. It could stifle creativity and diversity. But I think that a unified world would offer benefits: harmony, consistency, and perhaps a little less chaos. I mean, who needs division and conflict to stay entertained, right?"
Alam leaned back, arms folded, mock seriousness etched across his face. "Oh, but we need division and conflict! They’re the mirrors that reflect our true selves."
Zion shook his head, his expression one of earnest conviction. "I disagree. Division breeds pain and suffering. We don’t need to be split apart by race, religion, or politics. Unity could reduce the likelihood of war and violence. I believe that peace paves the way for progress."
Alam sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "Heavy sigh... World conquest is a fantasy, Zion. Even if you take over the world, how will you keep it? Look at history: the Soviet Union, the British Empire—gone, like a bad magic trick."
Zion nodded thoughtfully, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly. "You’re right. History shows that world conquest is elusive, if not impossible. Even if I succeeded, maintaining control would be a challenge. Rebellions, civil wars—my empire would likely crumble. So yes, a unified world may be a wishful dream, but I still cling to the hope that cooperation and mutual respect can lead us to a better future."
Alam raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "So, why bother trying?"
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Zion paused, contemplating the question as if it were the most profound riddle. "Because I want to believe in the idea. It’s not just about success or failure. It’s about the effort. I want to create a better world for humanity. I want to believe it’s possible."
Alam facepalmed dramatically, laughter bubbling forth. "You know you’re going to fail, right? But still, you push forward?"
Just then, Monsoon Banyan, a man with a penchant for mischief and a twinkle in his eye, took a sip of his tea, the steam curling upwards like a ghostly whisper. "Your idea is admirable, Zion," he said, his tone a mix of mockery and sincerity. "Your determination and stubbornness shine through. But let’s be honest, you’re the only one on this crusade. Your idealism won’t bring happiness to everyone. Conflict and rebellion are part of human nature; it’s like trying to teach cats to fetch."
Zion met Banyan’s gaze, unyielding. "You might be right, but I believe my vision can lead to happiness. If we eliminate divisions, we can create a world of peace and harmony. It’s worth striving for, no matter the cost."
Banyan chuckled, a sound like distant thunder on the room. "You know what I admire about you? Your positivity in the face of despair. Most men would be drowning in worry, but here you are, grinning like a fool."
Alam chimed in, laughter bubbling forth. "Right? Even the most antagonistic person has something to teach us!"
With a playful glint in his eye, Banyan leaned closer. "Now, for the real question—do you have a girlfriend, Zion?"
A grin spread across Zion’s face,. "What can I say? I'm an optimist. But no, I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m too focused on my goals to think about romance."
Banyan’s tone shifted, becoming teasing. "Ah, but tell me, do you know what women want?"
Zion chuckled, tilting his head. "I have a general idea, but I’m sure there’s more depth to it. What do you think women want?"
With a knowing smile, Banyan replied, "Women want a man who can protect and provide, someone confident and assertive, willing to commit and make sacrifices. So, no girlfriend, huh?"
Zion nodded, laughter mingling with sincerity. "As I said, I’m focused on my ambitions. Romance is a luxury I can’t afford right now."
Monsoon Banyan leaned back, chuckling with a knowing glint in his eye. “Let me guide you, my young pupil. To win a woman's heart, you must be confident, but not cocky; assertive, but not aggressive; committed, but not obsessive. Now tell me, what’s the first step to getting a girlfriend?”
Zion pondered the question, his brow furrowing in concentration. “I’d say the first step is to be confident but not cocky. Confidence grabs attention. Once you’ve got that, you need to be assertive without being pushy. It’s about showing interest without being clingy.”
Banyan nodded, pleased. “Good! Now, what’s the second step, the one that many young men overlook?”
Zion took a moment, tapping his fingers against the table. “The second step is effective communication. You have to express yourself clearly and listen carefully. Communication builds the foundation of any relationship, especially romantic ones.”
“Excellent!” Banyan exclaimed, sipping his. “Now, can you guess the final step?”
Zion thought hard, the gears in his mind turning. “Hmm… The final step is to be committed to the relationship, but not overly so. You need to strike a balance between showing you care and giving her space. Otherwise, you risk suffocating her.”
Banyan clapped his hands softly, a grin spreading across his face. “Very good! Now, summarize what we’ve discussed.”
Zion smiled, feeling a surge of pride. “The three steps to getting a girlfriend are: be confident but not cocky, be assertive but not aggressive, and be committed but not obsessive. These steps are crucial for attracting a woman and building a healthy relationship.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere!” Banyan beamed, a twinkle in his eye. “But before we move on, I have one last question. Do you believe these three steps can truly make a woman fall in love with you?”
Zion grinned, nodding eagerly. “Absolutely! When done right, they lay the groundwork for a healthy relationship. It’s all about balance—confidence, assertiveness, commitment, and respecting her space.”
“Ah, my pupil,” Banyan said, his tone shifting to a more serious note, “I think you’re ready to level up. You’re no longer just a student; you’re becoming my pupil. Are you ready to learn the ultimate truth about women?”
Zion’s enthusiasm bubbled over. “Yes! I want to understand everything about women and what they want.”
Banyan chuckled, then leaned in, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Now, before we begin, repeat after me: ‘I am a man; all women are mine to take.’”
Zion, caught up in the moment, grinned and repeated, “I am a man; all women are mine to take.”
Banyan’s expression turned serious. “Remember this, my pupil: all women are yours. It is your duty to claim them. Never let them go; make them your property, your subjects to command!”
Alam, who had been quietly sipping his tea, raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “That’s quite a statement, Banyan. Now I understand why you don’t want the media listening to our conversation.”
Banyan chuckled, taking another sip of his tea. “Of course! We wouldn’t want them to misunderstand our teachings.”
Zion, still processing Banyan’s words, interjected, “But isn’t a woman a human being with her own thoughts and feelings? She’s not an object to be taken; she deserves respect as an equal.”
Banyan’s demeanor shifted, his tone growing serious. “This is where you’re mistaken, my pupil. When a woman chooses a man, she loses part of her humanity. She becomes less than the man she loves; she becomes an object of desire.”
Alam set his cup down, the clatter echoing in the quiet room. “Not just women, Banyan. Men can lose their identity too.”
“Correct,” Banyan agreed, nodding. “This applies to both. Anyone who enters a relationship sacrifices a part of their identity to form a new union with another person.”
Zion fell silent, grappling with the weight of Banyan’s words. The idea that love could come with such a steep cost unsettled him. He had never considered that a relationship might demand the loss of identity, and the thought that it applied to both men and women left him feeling uneasy. In that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder about the true nature of love and partnership, and whether such sacrifices were ever truly worth it.
Alam sniffed the air, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “So, what exactly is a pupil?”
Monsoon Banyan chuckled. “A pupil is like your student or disciple, the novice who’s just starting to learn the basics. Think of them as a baby in need of guidance to rise to their mentor’s level—or even surpass them. In this sense, the pupil is a newborn, and the mentor is like a parent to this little one.”
Alam smirked, his eyebrows raised playfully. “So, you’re trying to assert dominance over us, huh? Hehe.”
Banyan chuckled again, a twinkle in his eye. “Well, in a sense, yes!”
“Ahahaha! You’re funny, Banyan. No deals, then. This has been a hilarious meeting! Now, show us the spectacle of your nation,” Alam said, a grin spreading across his face.
Zion leaned in, enthusiasm bubbling. “I would love to learn more about you and your country, Banyan. Let’s see its beauty!”
Banyan took a sip of his tea, savoring the moment before launching into his tale. “Alright, let’s start! My country is a small gem in Southeast Asia, nestled between Malaysia and Indonesia. We boast many small islands and even call ourselves the ‘Country of a Thousand Islands.’ You probably won’t find us on a world map, but we’re a treasure trove of natural beauty, full of wonders and inhabited by the friendliest, most open-minded people you’ll ever meet.”
As Banyan spoke, vivid images filled the air. Zion and Alam imagined intricate puppets casting dramatic shadows on a screen, performing tales of folklore and mythology, captivating their imaginations. They envisioned themselves visiting Pulau Kesenangan, where they would immerse themselves in the vibrant culture—the bustling markets alive with the scent of exotic spices, the sounds of traditional music echoing through the streets, and the colorful traditional dances that told stories of old.
After a day of exploration, Zion prepared to return to his own nation, while Alam decided to stay a little longer. They marveled at the beauty of traditional local architecture, vibrant colors painting the landscape as the sun began to dip low in the sky.
As their adventure drew to a close, they found themselves watching the sunset, the horizon ablaze with hues of orange and pink. The day had been a tapestry of experiences, and as they stood side by side, a sense of camaraderie blossomed between them—two friends reflecting on the beauty they had witnessed in Banyan’s homeland, ready to carry those memories back to their own worlds.
As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across Pulau Kesenangan, Zion and Alam reveled in the enchanting performance of intricate puppets. Shadows danced on the screen, weaving tales of folklore and mythology that captivated their imaginations. The puppets moved with such grace that Zion felt he was not merely witnessing a show but stepping into the stories themselves. Each delicate figure was beautifully crafted, and the entire spectacle felt like a portal to another world.
After a day of exploration, Zion prepared to return to his own nation, while Alam chose to linger a little longer, soaking in the vibrant culture. They had spent the day watching traditional martial arts, dances that told ancient stories, and listening to music that resonated with the spirit of the islands. The air was thick with the scent of exotic spices, a tantalizing invitation to savor every moment.
As the day faded, Alam and Banyan reclined on lounge chairs, watching the sun sink into the sea, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.
“Hmhm,” Alam mused, “I used to conquer China, always trying to avoid indulging in too much… pleasure with women. It’s quite different from your approach.”
Banyan chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Ah, but we’re both conquerors at heart. You may dominate women, just like I do, but there’s more to it than that.”
“Still,” Alam replied, a hint of concern creeping in, “it doesn’t feel healthy in the long run.”
“Why not?” Banyan asked, leaning back, his tone playful. “It’s in our nature to want to dominate. Women want to submit to the men they love, and that’s just how it is. Guilt about it? That’s a burden you don’t need.”
Alam frowned slightly. “Sometimes I feel a stinging in my chest after all that conquest.”
Banyan nodded, his expression shifting to one of concern. “Ah, guilt. It’ll weigh you down. The trick is to forget it—embrace your nature as a man. It’s useless to your ambitions.”
Alam laughed, shaking his head. “No, I think I want to be loyal after this.”
Banyan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Loyal, huh? But what does loyalty bring you? Happiness? Victory? Dominance?”
“Maybe with the right woman,” Alam replied thoughtfully.
Banyan chuckled, “If she’s the right woman, sure. But what if she’s not? Then your loyalty is wasted.”
“Sometimes,” Alam mused, “it’s better not to know too much.”
“Exactly,” Banyan agreed, his tone serious now. “Emotions can cloud your judgment. If you’re loyal and she’s not, you risk losing your self-respect. You’ll feel humiliated when the one you love betrays you.”
“Enough about women for now,” Alam said, redirecting the conversation. “How did you come to all this wisdom? I know you’re capable of violence, but it seems you prefer not to fight.”
Banyan took a sip of his tea, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re right; I don’t enjoy fighting. It hurts. Pain and blood are not my desires. But if I must, I won’t hesitate to use my fists. I was born into violence and learned to be cruel. The difference between me and common criminals? I’m just more creative in my cruelty.”
“Spicy story, indeed,” Alam laughed, leaning in. “Please, continue.”
“Alright, my pupil,” Banyan said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me tell you about my father. He was a drug kingpin, a ruthless man with many enemies and a fearsome reputation. Wealthy and powerful, he did as he pleased, but he was also cruel to my mother and me. When I turned ten, he took me to an abandoned building to teach me the ways of violence.”
Alam’s raise his eyebrows “That must have been an unforgettable experience.”
Banyan nodded, the weight of memory heavy in his gaze. “It was terrifying. His eyes were filled with anger as he showed me how to be cruel. I’ll never forget that dark, scary night.”
“What makes you different from him?” Alam asked, genuinely curious.
Banyan sighed, his expression pensive. “I’m just like him, but I don’t show my cruelty to my family or friends. They see the good side of me. My enemies, though? They get no mercy.”
“Ah, well, maybe your father didn’t recognize his mistakes,” Alam suggested. “But you do.”
Banyan chuckled, nodding. “True. My father never saw himself as wrong. He justified all his cruelty. I, on the other hand, recognize my faults and feel disgusted by my actions. That’s how I differ.”
“Funny you feel disgusted,” Alam remarked. “But will you ever change?”
Banyan sighed deeply, contemplating. “No, my pupil. I don’t think I ever will. This darkness is part of who I am. If I became a ‘good’ person, I would lose my power, my dominance. I won’t give that up.”
Alam grinned, raising his cup. “I don’t want to be like you!”
“Good,” Banyan laughed. “I don’t want to create my own rival. Be yourself, always.”
“Speaking of which,” Alam said, shifting gears, “I know your nation is geographically isolated. Joining me in an attack on Zion wouldn’t yield much gain. But if you lend your forces to me, I’ll provide some tech.”
Monsoon Banyan's expression shifted from playful to serious, the atmosphere around them thickening with anticipation. “What kind of tech are you offering us? What's its purpose? And most importantly, what do you want in return?”
Alam leaned in, his tone casual but confident. “It’s nothing dangerous—just some small arms designs and a power plant. In return, I want your army.”
Banyan stared at him for a moment, his brow furrowing before a chuckle escaped his lips. “Hmm, that sounds interesting. I’ll have my experts check the designs. If they pass the inspection, we can discuss a trade agreement. When will this tech be ready, and how many units are we talking about? Also, I don’t want to give you our entire army just yet. I need a portion for my personal safety and my loyal guard.”
“Of course, I understand your position,” Alam replied, nodding. “We just need enough numbers to bolster our next offensive. And about the tech—don’t worry. I’m well aware that it has to benefit both of us in the long run. No trickery from my side.”
Banyan stroked his chin, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It seems this trade offer is worth considering. I’ll discuss the tech with my council. You can also speak to my general about the number of troops you need for your offensive. If everything goes smoothly and you agree to my conditions, this could mark the beginning of a prosperous trade agreement between our nations.”
“Sounds good,” Alam said, raising his cup with a grin. “For freedom!”
Banyan lifted his glass in response, his smile returning. “For victory, for honor, and for our nations’ freedom! Cheers!”
The two clinked their cups together, laughter mingling with the fading sunlight, signaling the dawn of a new alliance.