In Rome, smoke curled from fine cigars as Italian generals and colonial officers leaned over a polished mahogany table. Ethiopia had humiliated Italy at Adwa, and the scars of that defeat still burned deep. Now whispers of Ethiopia's growing industry, modern weapons, and military drills reached the ears of Italy's high command.
"Ethiopia was once a backward kingdom," sneered General Rossi. "Now our agents report factories in Harar, rifles rolling out of workshops, and roads connecting regions that were once divided. If this continues, they will become unbreakable."
Another officer slammed his fist on the table. "We cannot allow this. Ethiopia is Africa's jewel. Rome must have her!"
The decision was made. Italy would weave a web of sabotage, infiltration, and bribery. Nobles jealous of the prince's rise would be fed with Italian gold. Spies would slip into Harar, disguised as traders, missionaries, and even scholars. Arms smugglers would try to lure Ethiopian generals with promises of advanced weapons—while secretly plotting to weaken their loyalty.
Back in Harar, the prince sensed the shifting winds. Reports came daily from his father's informants: strangers asking too many questions in markets, sudden fortunes among discontent nobles, and crates of "trade goods" arriving suspiciously near border towns.
One evening, as the sun bled into the desert sky, his father laid a letter on the table. It bore the seal of an Italian merchant. Inside, coded words revealed a plot—Italian operatives were funding a conspiracy among certain Ethiopian nobles to assassinate him.
The prince read it twice, his jaw tightening.
"So it begins," he whispered. "They fear Ethiopia's strength. They fear what we are building. Good. Let them fear."
But he knew this was not merely about rifles or roads. The Italians wanted Ethiopia broken from within—divided, weakened, and ripe for conquest.
That night, he called his most trusted officers into a candlelit war council. Maps were spread, names of suspected traitors circled, and secret plans drafted.
"We will not wait for them to strike," he said coldly. "We will expose their plot, capture their agents, and show the Italians that Ethiopia is no longer a land to be played with."
His secret army, trained in silence, was unleashed into the shadows. Spies were hunted. Conspirators were watched. And as the young prince stood on the balcony of his palace, looking toward the distant horizon where foreign powers schemed, he vowed:
"Let Italy come. Ethiopia will answer not with weakness—but with fire."