2399 AD. Alam's monitor blinked, not with a news alert, but with Corvo,, bombarding his monitor with info on genetic engineering and neural implants in the Red Nation, aka the Free World. had decided to bestow upon Alam the gift of unwanted knowledge "We will meet again," Corvo enigmatically states before cutting off the comm.

Alam, initially confused and surprised by this unexpected summer Santa, stoically processes the information, his mind still focused on the Khaganate invasion. He knows Gott always has a bigger plan.

Alam learns about Jozen and its blockade in the Pacific and Atlantic. How does the Red Nation support the Khaganate's coal? Does it have giant submarines? These questions linger as he prepares for their second offensive.

Outnumbered but with the homefront advantage, Alam uses every tactic in the history books: guerrilla warfare, tunnels, traps, landslides, fire, and even terror like night attacks and stacking enemy heads in the road. He fights like the 300 Spartans, glorifying war and using the terrain to his advantage.

Until he start lost of his major city in eastern wasteland. and Khaganate is closer and get closer to don river and danube, closer to Carpathian Home base, It was a bitter blow, and criticism began to surface among the Wanderer high command. “Must our infantry face enemy tanks just to make a point?” one officer lamented after losing several squads, a pointed jab at Alam's past decision to sell off their own Tanks.

But in bright side Wanderers agents who now can roaming more freely stealing and sabotage khaganate supply in new conquered city, and allow him to observe like a expert voyeurism.

In one captured town, a preacher speaks against war, only to be quickly dispatched by Khaganate soldiers. Posters of heroic war, fighting against sub-humans,”revive pax mongolica, when Genghis Khan descendant who right to rule them” plaster the city, revealing the Khaganate's small-dick syndrome and reliance on propaganda.

Alam then look at khaganate poster on his hand while in mountain base “Safeguard the Eternal Steppe from Foreign Aggressors! Build a Harmonious Future for Generations to Come! (By Sacrificing the your Generation, Some Restrictions Apply).” and there is a picture of warrior draw sword who surrounded by woman and children alam then scoff “hah!,, that is the most cliche ever!”

and some slogans that sound impressive but mean nothing. "The Eternal Steppe of Prosperity," or "Building a Community of Shared Destiny with Iron Fists. small print at the bottom: "Some restrictions may apply. Terms and conditions apply. Void where prohibited."

Carmelita then chuckles again “yeah, but its work.. its easier to make people fight for their family and their home than.. complex things such freedom or capitalism”

Alam nods, pondering, "What is freedom anyway? Is being a prick individual freedom? Is sinful behavior freedom?" Carmelita, pressing her head, groans, "Arghhh, my head hurts. Stop it!"

"Hehe, alright, dumbass. We have a war to win instead of being philosophers," Alam declares, drawing his sword with a plan in mind.

As the war drags on into summer, rain turns the desert into a muddy mess, even causing floods. The Khaganate, relying on shock and awe, doesn't expect Alam's resistance and isn't ready for a long war. Many of their soldiers, adrenaline junkies or status quo preservers, reluctantly continue the fight. Their tanks stuck in mud force them to rely on horse wagons to traverse the wild environment.

Alam manage to took some khaganate tanks who being abandoned. he know this time is right for counter attack. Their military might and technology proved to be no match for the harsh and unforgiving terrain of the Carpathian Mountains. The mountains were steep and treacherous, and the weather conditions were harsh and unpredictable.

until once more. the enigmatic Corvo give another valuable info dumping. about nature of khaganate supply. they actually not receive coals and fuels from zion port in north america. but from the local faction who become vassal of zion.

think about like coal and fuel nation. in past they can sell their goods everywhere anytime they want. but because zion monopoly traps, they now only can sell their goods to zion only. now zion control the region resource.

what a spicy. now once more Alam had dillema to choose. he can sabotage the trade, or free those nations.

winter is near.. if he sabotage. probably khaganate people and his ex people who under their control will suffer. if they liberate those smaller nation its mean more bloodshed.

what a easy choice to be a leader. he then pick option c, send agents to smaller nations to dig more. and send raider to stole some supplies because its less harmful choice for both sides.

until one historic day. one of Alam secretary named Eleanor, found a 2d idol streamer cute girl which act as public figure in the small nations near khaganate border. intrigue and what the heck moment. the more they inspect. this 2d idol call herself a psyops girl. Borte a 2d woman which popular on internet,

Borte, her 2D avatar now dressed in a historically inaccurate but undeniably cute version of Mongol armor, gestured enthusiastically. “Hello, my little steppe flowers. Many Western historians spread vile lies about our glorious ancestor! They say he was a 'conqueror,' a 'warmonger'! Nonsense! He was a unifier! A bringer of peace and prosperity! He simply… relocated a few unruly tribes. For their own good, of course!"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Borte chirped, her voice artificially high-pitched.

"Today, we're celebrating the Great Khagan's glorious five-year plan for yak butter production! Every like… I mean, every social credit point you give me will contribute to the collective prosperity!"

A counter on the screen rapidly ticked upwards as viewers "donated" social credit. Borte's 2D avatar performed a series of increasingly elaborate dances, each tied to a specific social credit milestone. "500 points! Thank you, little steppe flower! Now, let's learn about the importance of harmonious grass grazing!"

Eleanor zoomed in on the chat. It was a bizarre mix of genuine adoration and blatant bootlicking. "Borte, you're so wise!" one commenter wrote, earning them +10 social credit. "The Khagan is truly a visionary!" another gushed, receiving +20.

"Beware the European burger!" she warned. "It is a symbol of decadence and moral decay! Support local yak burgers instead! They are full of protein and social credit!"

the more Eleanor dig into the rabbit hole more absurd it is. Borte the psyops girl is probably a man,

The digital breadcrumbs led them to an unlikely location: Baikonur Cosmodrome. Baikonur—a name etched in the history of space exploration, now playing host to a very different kind of launch. Though parts were derelict, the remaining launch pads, control centers, and communication arrays were being used by "Borte" to amplify his signal.

in the midst of chaos, Alam discovers a streamer hiding in a grotesque trailer adorned with human skins, guarded by a legion of goons. After an epic battle, Alam confronts the man behind the cute 2D mask—a fat slob in a muddy trailer, surrounded by monitors and blaring music.

The man ignores Alam until a warning shot grabs his attention.

"Once I was a wraith... now I'm a sloth," he mumbles.

"And a cute girl in the virtual world," Alam retorts, pistol aimed at his head.

After a long pause, Alam asks, "Any last words?"

"I have nothing to say... mortal," the wraith replies.

Alam's left eye twitches in irritation as he shoots a monitor. "Please not the monitor! My waifus are there!" the wraith pleads, staring at Alam with half-lidded eyes.

"Come on, don't talk about something delusional now. You care about your waifu more than your own life?" Alam scoffs.

The wraith sighs, "Sometimes I do wonder about my own existence. Here I am, living in the virtual world with my waifus, while the outside world has gone to crap. And I don't really care about my own life. I've been around for centuries and seen it all. So why not enjoy a bit of escapism? Plus, who needs the real world when there are cute anime girls who will never judge you, right? Haha."

"Mhm, so you have a low confidence level, huh?" Alam quips.

The wraith leans back, eyes downcast, "Yeah, I guess I've never been the most confident person. I've seen empires rise and fall, wars tearing the world apart, but I always felt like I could never make a difference in the real world. In here, though, I can be who I want to be. And my waifus are the ones that truly care about me and listen to me. They never judge me for who I am. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, but you're killing people out there, man. There's a law in this world," Alam points out.

The wraith chuckles darkly, "Do you think the law matters to someone who has seen empires rise and fall? Do you think the world outside is any better? In here, I am a god. I can create and destroy anything I want. As far as I'm concerned, the people out there are just pixels on a screen. They are not real. Not like my girls here."

"Alright, you're under arrest. If you're a good boy, I might let you have one monitor in your cell," Alam offers.

The wraith rolls his eyes, "Fine, fine. If that's what it takes to keep my monitors, I'll go quietly. But I do hope you have a good internet connection in those cells, or this is going to be a very boring imprisonment for me."

"Internet? Even electricity is regulated, you dumbass. You'll only see a video replay," Alam smirks.

The wraith's face falls, "What?! Regulated electricity? That's cruel and unfair! How am I supposed to keep my monitors running smoothly without a constant power supply? This is outrageous!"

"Then learn about discipline, old man," Alam advises.

The wraith huffs in annoyance, "Discipline? Bah! I've been around for centuries, survived wars, and seen empires fall. Do you really think I need a lecture on discipline from a mortal like you?"

"You're starting to annoy me, bad boy. Bad boys don't get a monitor in their cell," Alam warns.

The wraith rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, "Fine, I'll behave. I'll be the perfect prisoner. Just don't take away my monitors. Those are the only things keeping me sane in here."

"Alright, stand up. Fast," Alam commands.

The wraith begrudgingly stands up, his movements slow and reluctant. "Well? What now? Are you going to take away my toys?"

Alam exits the trailer as Wanderers scan the area. "So, what's with the morbid habit of putting human skin on the trailer?"

The wraith looks at Alam with mild surprise, "Ah, you discovered my little eccentricity. Yes, I do have a habit of displaying human skin on this trailer. It's a sign of respect for the fallen souls who have crossed paths with me. They may be gone, but their memory lives on in these reminders. Plus, it adds a bit of intrigue and mystique, don't you think?"

"Nevermind," Alam mutters as Wanderer soldiers handcuff the wraith and extract him via helicopter. The wasteland is full of mad people, so it's not Alam's first ride.

The wraith reluctantly allows himself to be handcuffed, his eyes filled with a mix of resentment and acceptance. As he's escorted to the helicopter, he looks back at his trailer one last time, a sense of longing in his eyes. "Perhaps in another time or place, we could have been allies," he muses, his voice tinged with regret.

"Ally with you?! Fuck, no thanks," Alam retorts.

The wraith looks at Alam with a hint of amusement, "Oh, so you're not interested in joining forces with a god-like figure like myself? How disappointing."

Alam chuckles and shakes his head, "Sorry, but I prefer my allies to be a bit more down-to-earth, if you catch my drift."

With this spicy new knowledge, Alam begins using the psyops girl to expose the Red Nation's tricks and sway public opinion against the war and the Red Nation. As the godlike figure Zion becomes a tyrant overseas, their influence crumbles, and their fuel and coal monopoly is exposed, making them vulnerable, especially with winter approaching.

Many Khaganate soldiers are less motivated to fight now. Their war projections of swift victory, filled with action-packed scenarios like in games, are destroyed. War is 90% marching and waiting and only 8% taking shit and 2 % is fighting.

The Khaganate, now in low morale, starts withdrawing from Alam's territory, and Alam begins a counterattack with long, tedious, bloody grinding, pushing them back. But war is always complex, and Alam knows Zion will do something about the current setback. He prepares for the worst.

The impact of the sabotage and raids on the smaller nations had created its own backlash, plunging the region into even greater instability. With the Khaganate’s grip loosened, the eastern wasteland became a magnet for Soldier of fortune—mercenaries from across the globe, drawn by the allure of adventure and credit. But some, those who’d tasted the true grit of the wasteland’s, sought greener pastures, continents away, where the contracts were cleaner and the ghosts of past battles didn't haunt their sleep