The night sky above Boston burned red with the fires of defiance.
Arthur had been warned: not every noble family would kneel. Despite the arteries of wealth, despite the veins of loyalty, despite the capillaries that fed every home—there were still those who clung to the Old Guard's banner.
The Carroway Family, one of the oldest American dynasties, had chosen open rebellion.
A Challenge Declared
On the steps of their ancestral manor, Duke Frederick Carroway raised his banner—a blood-red flag stitched with the sigil of the Old Guard. Armed guards stood at his side, while hidden cameras streamed his defiance across the internet.
"Arthur Ashford is no emperor!" he thundered. "He is a parasite who poisons our lands, steals our legacy, and enslaves our children! Tonight, the Carroway name breaks his chain!"
Across Boston, mobs gathered, emboldened by his words. Pamphlets turned into torches. Graffiti painted Arthur as a false monarch. For the first time since Arthur's rise, the streets belonged not to him—but to chaos.
The Empress Council's Response
In the Empire's war room, the empresses gathered. The holographic map of Boston glowed crimson, dotted with riot markers.
Bianca slammed her fist on the table. "Let me crush their factories and starve their rebellion. Within a week, their coffers will dry!"
Roxy smirked. "No. Cut their communications. I can plunge Boston into silence in under an hour. Fear thrives in noise—without it, rebellion dies."
Vivian's eyes glinted. "Neither. If we strike too hard, we make martyrs. This must be a demonstration—swift, precise, and unforgettable."
Aurora's voice was calm, regal, final. "He calls himself a duke. Then it must be the emperor who answers."
All eyes turned to Arthur.
The Emperor Rises
Arthur donned no crown, no robes. He walked into Boston clad in a tailored black suit, the symbol of power that he himself had made fashionable. His convoy was minimal, but his presence drew whispers through the terrified city.
At the Carroway Manor, armed guards raised rifles. The Duke himself stepped forward, sneer sharp.
"You dare walk into my domain?" Carroway spat. "Do you think money alone makes you king?"
Arthur's voice was cold steel. "No. Money builds the throne. Loyalty defends it. But fear… fear makes it eternal."
The Breaking of Carroway
The battle was swift, merciless, and psychological.
Bianca's agents shut down supply chains to the manor.Roxy's hackers scrambled every Carroway communication channel.Vivian leaked fabricated evidence that Carroway plotted against America itself, turning the public against him overnight.Yesenia's priests denounced the rebellion from pulpits, declaring Arthur chosen by fate.
And then, when the Duke stood cornered, Arthur arrived at the gates.
"You wanted war," Arthur said softly. "Instead, you will witness annihilation."
The manor was stormed. Carroway's guards laid down their arms, not from force, but from despair—every paycheck, every supply, every ally had already been Ashford-owned.
At dawn, the red banner was ripped down. In its place rose the Ashford sigil, black and gold against the Boston skyline.
The Emperor's Message
Before the world, Arthur made his first imperial decree.
"There will be no second rebellion," he declared, his voice broadcast across every television, radio, and phone. "The arteries, veins, and capillaries of this empire are mine. To resist me is to resist life itself. And life does not forgive."
The Old Guard had tested him.Arthur had answered.And Boston's ashes whispered his truth: the Emperor does not share power.