Chapter 1912 – Counteroffensive 1 – Glory, Rage and Hope
Then there was the technocrat army under Norahnon. They were not exactly frontline troops, although they could be used that way. They were over 2’000 strong, but they had everything in them from supply officers to machines of war. They were the flexible spine of the armed operations, capable of filling the gaps and engineering solutions to complicated problems.
Then there was the levee en masse, led by the Horned Rat. It was a force of over 20’000, consisting of humans and rat folk primarily, with some other races of the Abyss mixed in. It was an absolutely massive force and the state of its equipment was testament to what made the Illuminati so powerful: eagerness to stay at the cutting edge of technology and manufacturing. Even though they did not have a Guild Hall to draw cheap resources from, all of these 20’000 soldiers were equipped to a competitive standard with Fusion, with some tech being marginally worse or better.
No doubt there were more aces up the Horned Rat’s sleeve. For one, this army of roughly 23’000 people total was the result of rapid mobilization as well. For two, they would not have brought the entirety of the force of the Illuminati to bear. No nation would ever send everything, so the Illuminati sending all of their official leadership raised some questions.
With their forces, the Illuminati could sweep the interior rapidly, especially with the Order guiding them. The Rex Germaniae forces would support 5’000 of John’s own troops. The remaining Fusion soldiers were spread 1’000 to Miami and 4’000 to Boston. Due to being what it was, Florida had its own set of elites to assure their reclamation.
These forces were then further sub-divided to follow pre-planned routes for their counteroffensive. Exact numbers at that point ceased to matter to John. Lower officers would arrange their composition according to the needs provided by their specific operation briefs. The generals and high-ranking lieutenants had enough competency to sort it out. Those who would have hindered the workings of the military machine had all been removed from any positions of authority by this point.
What John was responsible for was the distribution of his haremettes for the upcoming defenses, a matter that was challenging. He left token garrison forces in each of the cities, because he deemed it more important to have the manpower to sweep the continent than the pure battle prowess of his women. In return, that meant that they had to stay to guard positions that were most likely to be assailed by an enemy elite.
The forces in Los Angeles (Eliana, Aclysia and the Creator Puppet) would remain unmoving, so that was covered easily enough.
For Boston, Claire would remain to defend it, while Nia and Ehtra pushed outwards. Not only was Claire uniquely suited to defend an area on her own, Boston was also the least likely target to garner direct attention by the Lorylim again. Granted, being the least likely target also made it the most likely target in that warped sense. Still, John was willing to take that gamble to let Ehtra and Nia join the offensive. They were too effective against the Lorylim not to.
For Miami, no one would need to remain stationary. The Cosmic Chicken was there, as absurd a statement as that was. John had not talked to Fred again, but between it and Wendy, they had worthwhile defences of their own. Beatrice was therefore available to join the offense.
New Orleans also had its own defences through the Order, but John considered it worthwhile to keep Metra and Fianna there just in case. The Lorylim had attacked there twice and with all of the boats anchored there extra protection was advisable. He also elected to shift Rave, Hailey, and Lorelei over to that theatre, accompanying Nightingale and the Ambassador Double in Romulus’ push into the former Gestalt areas. It was a show of respect to Romulus to send this many, including Rave, and it was a gesture of friendship to Moira, who would also be present during this operation.
That left the Guild Hall. Repositioning the entire barrier was still in the cards, but John wanted to keep that in his back pocket for now. Now that all the ships had come in, he could have it float without issue, which rapidly eased the defensibility. Teleporters on ground level would give troops routes up and down.
John himself would stay in the Guild Hall. As per usual, his build made him most useful from the backline. This was a bit far back even by his standards, but it still held true that he would have the most effect here. With him and his elementals holding down the flying fort, the Guild Hall was practically unassailable. In an emergency, the maids could still teleport back to him for extra firepower. Tilgun was also going to stay, which was worth quite a bit. Momo, Lee and Delicia would also remain within the Guild Hall.
Scarlett, Nathalia, Nahoa and Lydia would thus lead the push out from the Guild Hall and into the Hidden Tradition.
The only problem with this arrangement was Lyndell. The primordial Lorylim still did not have the complete trust of the Gamer and would not have it until what she had been part of before was diminished to the point of being unthreatening on a national scale or, preferably, completely dead.
John preferred to keep her by his side. Alas, that was doubly foolish in this arrangement. For one, he was arguably more vulnerable than whatever cluster of his haremettes he attached her to. For two, to keep her away from the front was to incur her ire. She wanted to kill her former kin. She was most useful in that position as well.
So Lyndell was told to stick to Nathalia. The dragoness was the only one in that group that would be able to wrestle the primordial entity down on her own, should she turn traitor – or at least delay her enough until reinforcements arrived.
With all of those arrangements made, the late morning of 7th of December marked the beginning of Fusion’s march.
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John sat on his Throne, contemplative and quiet. He held the seat alone, making him feel quite small in a piece meant for him and his haremettes together. The velvet cushions made sitting itself comfortable, even if the piece of steel on his head poked his temples. He chose to wear the ringlet that he called a crown for this.
The cameras were pointed at him from various positions within the mostly empty great hall. So few of his haremettes were still with him in the Guild Hall. Percentage wise, even fewer of his military staff was present now. Only Emrik remained of those that had a high rank, everyone else was out there, part of forces or leading them from a camp closer to the front lines.
John let his gaze wander. It was aimless, but he knew how to make it look like it had purpose for those behind their screens. He was sorting his thoughts and did not want to sit there motionless, making people wonder if their connection had frozen. Even seated, he kept his spine straight and his shoulders back. He never fully exhaled, to make his chest look a bit broader and impressive. Perhaps that was a reason why kings often wore capes? To make their silhouette more masculine?
‘Let’s remain focused,’ he reprimanded himself, then began his speech. His words were transported to the ear pieces of all the soldiers who were waiting in their bases of operation. It reached every Abyssal out there that cared to tune in. “I am John Newman, king of Fusion, and I have seen off the last of my loves that will join the horrors of this war.”
He shifted in his seat, truly uncomfortable with what he had said and what he would say next.
“It is a terrible thing at the best of times – war. Figures throughout history have argued that conflict is necessary to keep the mind of humanity sharp. Some good men said it, many bad men said it. No matter from whose lips that idea came, I believe there is a true core there. An element of wisdom that misery builds character and that those that only know peace will inevitably lose it due to their own ignorance. To that end, war might be too intrinsic to the human condition to avoid… but that does not include a war like this.
“These are no days of glory. Glory will be found in victory, do not misunderstand, but this war itself has no shred of glory to it, no idea of decency. It is a genocidal affair, in which an alien force seeks to destroy what we are and hold dear and in which we have no other choice but to do the same to them. There is no glory in fighting that fight, no excellence to be found in the conduct, no honour in adherence to respecting codes of warfare. This is a desperate struggle for survival, fought with tooth, claw, and sheer force of will…”
John let his words peter off into a mumble. He looked at his hands. He counted the seconds. Then, he stared hard at the camera ahead of him. Through his technomancy, he forced it to be the primary one at that exact moment, for all of the watchers to see the resolve he still had.
“There is no glory in the fight – there is all the glory in surviving. Not just glory, for glory is like gold and, for all its beauty, cannot sustain us. It is our way of life that we fight for. We fight for the bonds between us, between individuals with the freedom to choose who we are and who we are with. We fight for the welfare of ourselves and our neighbours. We fight out of selfish reasons and we fight for selfless reasons, because we are humans and that which springs from humanity itself.
“It is not glory that sustains us. It is the bread we make from the crops we grow on the land that is ours. It is the laughter we have from the jokes of the friends and family that are ours. It is the responsibility we inherited from those that came before and that we will leave to those that come after. And there WILL be those that come after! I will not let this be the end!
“For those at home, who have seen their own loved ones step into the worn boots of the soldiers, I am with you. This throne I sit upon does not elevate me above the concerns of safety for mine.
“For those in the fields, who stand for what you have and for the future that ought to be yours, I am with you. This capacity for multiple bodies allows me to stand with you, brave men and women of Fusion and of our great allies.
“As you offer your lives in service, never surrender it to the enemy. Fight with all that you have, for my first and most essential command is still in effect: survive. Fusion is not a land, it is a people, and when you lay down for your rest earned through sacrifice, know that with you a part of this nation dies forever. Treat yourself and your comrades with that importance. Survive, for you are more than an individual.
“The fight to reclaim what had finally been fused begins now!”
John raised his fist. Although not many were in the room, they followed the gesture. Valiant warcries echoed from those present, even Emrik lending his voice to the struggle against the silence.
“Rage!” the leader of the opposition shouted. “Do not go quiet into the night! Rage! Rage against the dying of the light!”
John had not expected Emrik to suddenly shout out a poem, much less that one. It caught on in an instant. At first, the people present shouted their own favoured excerpt of it. A cacophonic few seconds of individualism, before the people of Fusion, through mixed voices, created a new phrase altogether. There was no single author of it, no one that could accredited to it alone.
“Do not go quiet into the fight! Rage! Rage against the spread of this blight!”
Stomped feet beat the drums of war. How few of them there were here. How many of them were out there. Through Possession and mental connections, John observed the people in the Guild Hall, a slice of Fusion’s population. Determined people all over his nation, all shouting in unison.
“Do not go quiet into the fight! Rage! Rage against the spread of this blight!”
Emrik himself seemed surprised by the fervour he had unleashed. Like John, he was swept up in it, in the desperate will of a people who knew hope. Hope that they were the champions for, in larger or smaller a fashion. After hundreds of years, the Abyssals of North America finally had a governance that allowed them to live beyond fear. They had tasted a prosperous future. They would live free or die.
John commanded the room with the authority of his voice, carried further by the magical properties of the Throne. “Soldiers of Fusion, coalition of the world, march together in this fight! Hope! Hope for the future days of light! All units – advance!”
And with grim determination, his order was heeded.