The flames of revolution flared up suddenly and unexpectedly, it would not be wrong to say that there was an explosion. In a matter of moments, local skirmishes turned into a full-scale conflict. The governor mobilized all forces, and the forces of order, supported by the best units of Mologost, razed entire blocks of the capital to the ground, blowing up sewers and collapsing roads to the bottom.
Blood flowed into the sewers, crime soared to critical levels. While cultists blew up armored vehicles with the help of suicide bombers, looters, thieves, rapists and other scum who took advantage of the lawlessness broke into citizens' homes. The entire capital was drowning in this madness, turning an already difficult life into some kind of hell.
It was not worth mentioning that individual buildings were used as bases for soldiers on both sides. The Imperials could simply break into a residential high-rise, drive everyone out and then demolish it. Or just demolish it immediately without warning if intelligence reported the enemy's location. Civilian casualties? They didn't care. However, the cultists still tried to use human shields from civilians at any opportunity, even when it had practically no effect on anything.
By his actions, Detrius had not only refused any negotiations, condemning his allies to either victory or a crushing victory. Everyone would now have to go to the end and there would be no compromise. In addition, the cult had clearly revealed itself and shown the world its true face. The Imperials saw a clear manifestation of chaos, namely, the spawn of the warp. And although these were isolated cases, and the entities themselves were not particularly powerful, this was already a reason for Mologost to think about whether to give the order for orbital bombardment.
Besides, Detrii, thanks to me, was able to trap Bonte, after which he took advantage of the disunity of the aristocrats. All my actions played into his hands. Without realizing it, I helped him achieve what he wanted. And even that raid by the authorities on the underground prison did not have the desired effect. Detrii had dozens of such bases throughout the capital and constantly changed them.
Humans and some xenos continued to side with him. Detrius did everything to divide the situation into black and white. He also forced everyone to make a decision. Having simplified the conflict to the point of impossibility, he recruited more and more cultists and trained those who would run in the front lines against the enemy, giving their lives for supposedly high ideas, behind which there were only personal motives and a thirst for power.
Therefore, everyone who could fled the capital en masse. Most did not want to support the greedy governor, but no one was eager to die as heroes of the revolution either. However, the escalating situation clearly made it clear that sooner or later someone would knock on everyone's door, after which they would be forced to take sides. Drakernor was approaching a catastrophe of incredible proportions.
But Mologost was still hesitating and watching. He clearly did not want to turn this world into ruins using the might of his fleet, which meant that it was of value to him, which exceeded the risks of losing this world due to the invasion of chaos. And I was afraid to imagine what kind of game Mologost was playing with the governor and the xenos. Because now I had no doubt that neither Detrius, nor Mologost, nor any other parties were interested in the welfare of the people living here. They were interested in their own benefits, their own goals, their own ambitions. No matter who won, Draekernor would live even worse.
However, while palaces were being stormed and crowds of people were being shot in the capital, in other cities of Dreikernor sometimes they did not even know what was happening. In some places, people simply rebelled, stopping production and blocking the military, sometimes organizing local sabotage. Detriy was an extremely cunning and skillful intriguer, but for one reason or another he did not cultivate a worthy replacement for himself. Local leaders, in turn, were not distinguished by initiative and talent, but were extremely submissive and loyal.
I headed to one of these cities. It took me almost a day to get there, hitchhiking from the capital. I wasn't going to give up and swallow the bitterness of defeat, or go to the bottom and then start a "normal" gray life. The excitement was already flowing through my veins, the desire to try something new was bursting to get out, and the memories of my past boring life, although they sometimes caused warm nostalgia, at the same time they oppressed me.
I had never decided anything, my entire destiny was woven by other people's hands, and then an opportunity to change something appeared. Not in the world, but in myself, maybe to become better, to look at everything from a different angle, to try something that no mortal could even dream of. And although the risks were great, because even immortals were not invulnerable due to the presence of things much more terrible than death, and the motives of Tzeentch and the mechanism of rebirth itself were not given to me to understand, but... but still, Detrius must be given a chance to shit. Even if I lose again, I will learn something and next time I will achieve more, without stepping on the same rake twice.
So I got to the center of the industrial city, where they mined a huge amount of ores. However, now the production was at a standstill, the men from the mines suddenly became extremely conscientious and simply did not show up for work one day. They tried to drive them by force, but it was no use. And they couldn't shoot them either, and it would be hard to find a replacement, because experienced specialists with many years of experience also went on strike.
Therefore, the guards of order strengthened the checkpoints, erected fortifications around the administrative center and cordoned off individual objects. And the people blocked the roads, shouted in the streets, organized small riots with the pogrom of individual establishments, personifying dictatorship and imperialism. Well, and the people also relaxed in bars, where huge crowds gathered to listen to the agitators. I went into one of these bars.
There, in the semi-darkness, standing on a table, a very intelligent little man with a thick beard and luxuriously styled hair was giving a speech. His clothes were clean, his nails were trimmed, he smelled of some flowers, and his speech personified all the beauty of low Gothic.
— Tyranny should have been ended long ago, a series of epidersias led the history of our world to the creation of a cage, but soon everything will change! We will put an end to the governor's insinuations, destroy the greed of the nobles and see the apotheosis of true freedom! Changes have already begun in the capital, which means...
I stood in the shadows with other people and silently listened to this speech. No one was particularly interested, many did not understand some of the words, as the man himself seemed to be speaking according to a pre-set script. And perhaps from an artistic point of view his speech was beautiful and exemplary, but what is the point if the price for it was emotions? And emotions were the key to hearts.
The hearts of these men who bent their backs for the good of their families, died at fifty, so that they could send their children to a better school and so that maybe at least their grandchildren would see a better life. They sat and drank cheap booze, their clothes were dirty, and their hands were covered with terrible calluses. What the hell are these insinuations, what stinginess?
- This is all bullshit! - I exclaimed, which attracted attention and made the man shut up, after which I took another step forward. - Complete bullshit! Do you even hear what you're saying?
- Young man, I don't think I gave you a reason to be rude. I am an honored...
- You don't know what you're talking about, cretin! - Unlike my opponent, I wasn't afraid to swear or shout, thereby aggressively attacking the debate. - You stand here in your fancy clothes, your hands are clean, but your words are only lies! Look around, do you think they need reprisals against the nobles or the governor's head?
- They have been oppressing for so many years and...
- Fool! You have children⁈ No, of course not, that's why you don't understand! The dead can't be brought back, but you want to take away what little is left from us! Throw our children into the flames of revolution, pay with our blood so that another tyrant can ascend the throne!
- Detrius is not a tyrant, he...
- He is the sole leader of a cult that has built exactly the same system! He doesn't care about anyone but himself! He just wants to take the whip himself! And you, considering us stupid cattle, continue to try to foist this shit on us! - I continued to furiously shout and press my opponent.
The intellectual, in turn, was accustomed to calm and measured arguments with colleagues. He could not allow himself to shout and constantly restrained himself, thinking that someone would appreciate it. But no one did, and everyone listened only to the one who spoke louder. That someone was me, although of course it was not only about that. After all, the intellectual spoke from a piece of paper, working off his pay, and my words were full of emotion and sincerity, which made the listeners take my side. In addition, I voiced thoughts that one way or another each of those gathered here had.
"I was in the capital, the dried blood is evidence of that," I lowered my tone, forcing everyone to listen and thereby adding even more interest to my words. "Corpses… corpses everywhere, Detrius ordered the killing of prisoners, a series of terrorist attacks and arranged the sacrifice of his allies, taking advantage of their blind faith. He does not need changes, which he could have achieved through negotiations, improving working conditions and moving to a more perfect system without bloodshed. He needed chaos that would destroy the governor and allow him to take the place of the tyrant himself. We were all simply screwed once again."
- How right you are, bitch... - one of the miners muttered brokenly, looking through me with empty eyes. - I told my son the same thing, and he ran off to play liberator. But where can I... the dogs of the aristocrats have been trained to crush people like him for decades. They were given the best equipment and the best technology for this. And what should I do now? His mother? Let all these bastards burn in the fire...
"You have to pay for freedom... ahem..." the intellectual shut up mid-sentence, catching many unambiguous glances at himself.
He immediately jumped off the table and headed for the exit. He didn't care about these people or the revolution, he was just fulfilling an order. And some fool decided that since he was an intellectual, he would cope with the task much better than others. However, academic knowledge and a quality education in literature turned out to be useless. Although no, not useless, but even harmful. After all, his entire image was rejected by the people gathered here. They simply did not accept him.
For such speeches, it was not a smart guy from the academy who was needed, but someone with a burning heart, whose cry could no longer be contained inside. Sincerity and honesty, brightness and confidence, he had to burn hotter than the engine of a spaceship, to ignite the hearts of others.
Meanwhile, the bar was silent. Everyone kept looking at me as if I was supposed to solve everything and give them all the answers. Tired, depressed, without any hope that anything good would await them in the future. They had lived under tyranny, and now they were thrown straight into the flames of revolution, which was taking away what little they had left. No one asked their opinion, not even I had come here to take advantage of them.
I looked down and the pause continued. Somehow I couldn't look them in the eye, and I no longer wanted to play the manipulator. Moreover, I felt incredibly ashamed for trying to take advantage of those who had already suffered everything possible. Was my only difference from Detrius and the governor really just that I was weaker? Was it because of the changes that Tzeentch had influenced, or was I just an asshole from the start, secretly dreaming of turning from a slave into a tyrant in order to throw out all my complexes and accumulated grievances on others?
These and other thoughts came rushing at me in a single moment, storming my already tired consciousness. Suddenly I felt incredibly dirty, self-loathing began to consume me, and somewhere Tzeentch was laughing, chuckling as he looked at countless mortals who were confused within themselves, because the brain and heart were constantly conducting their intrigues inside our souls.
Internal contradictions created breaches, rational and shameless egoism opposed selfless virtues. And with each such cycle in the immaterium, the storms grew stronger, feeding on our emotions and feelings. In turn, the dark gods only grew stronger, thickening the impenetrable darkness around, where any struggle is meaningless.
"I don't know what to do," I said out loud, answering both my own questions and the questions of others. "Everything is too complicated and I… I'm tired too."
Changes, everyone is waiting for them, hoping that tomorrow will be better than yesterday. In fact, it is not for nothing that man has always strived for stability and constancy. After all, changes often brought more dangers than benefits. They always demanded victims, and then everything repeated itself. And Tzeentch did everything so that this process did not stop. It did not matter to him who would rule and what standard of living would be on the planet. Today he would build a true democracy, and tomorrow he himself would destroy it in order to return to cruel tyranny. The cycle would be endless and the more cunning would replace the less cunning, breeding more and more intrigues and confusing everything possible.
Without realizing it, I was playing into his hands. And no matter what I did, I would still follow his plan. He was literally the god who had granted me immortality. Are my reincarnations random? Will they get worse each time? Is Tzeentch capable of sending me to eternal torment in the next life as a joke? Does he have power over my thoughts? My hands dropped along with my eyes, because I had no control over anything, not even my own fate. So what was the point of doing anything? Just to earn Tzeentch's approval and live longer?
"Sit down, take a rest," one of the miners suddenly came up to me and shook me lightly by the shoulder. "The last few days have clearly not been going well, but maybe the storm will pass us by."
No, nothing will pass us by. Inaction will only make things easier for those who are ready to make decisions for others. However, action never ends well either. Zugzwang, whatever happens, will only get worse.
Sitting down at the table, I exhaled heavily and downed the bottle that had been passed to me in one gulp. My life was beyond my control and I could not change that. However, I could change the lives of others, and it was certainly better than cowardly revenge on someone who did not even have any personal animosity towards me. And looking at the miners around me, sitting next to them and looking into their eyes, I saw living and real people in the faceless mass.
Perhaps it was at that moment that everything was decided. The desire to take revenge on Detrius and petty ambitions were replaced by hatred. Hatred for myself, for Detrius, for the governor, for Tzeentch and for all injustice in general. Perhaps in my life this was the most vivid manifestation of youthful maximalism, but it was precisely this that helped me get up from the table while all the other resigned men remained sitting.
"I know what needs to be done! There is a way out!" I declared to the entire bar, and my voice sounded so confident that even my psychic energy was stirred.
There was much in our lives that we could not control. We could not change the laws of gravity or turn back time, nor could a mere mortal go against the dark gods. However, there were still many things that we could influence. Small and sometimes insignificant, just like our lives. And I decided to concentrate on such things, trying not to think about the hopelessness of my own situation.
Otherwise I would have gone crazy.
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