Disclaimer: Yes... one of these. It should be pretty obvious that I don't own the Gate franchise in any way.

A/N: Takes place after the second season of the anime, since that's the farthest any of the materials I have access to go as at the time of writing.

A/N: This is a second rewrite of Gates: Thus the Word Became a Plural. I've changed a majority of the content in this chapter, and will now focus more on feudal kingdoms and what not in Falmart/the Special Region, rather than just emphasising the Great Powers of Earth. It'll still follow the same approximate route as before, but with significant enough changes to consider this a complete overhaul.

Italica County, Empire

Temporary Capital of Pina's loyalists

Falmart

It was hours after Pina had been formally crowned. The sun had given way to the crescent moon, and an orchestra played songs of celebration and mirth as the tables filled with one dish after another. The food was a mix of both traditional Imperial cuisine, local Italican specialities, and imported Japanese delicacies. A whole banquet, prepared by the finest cooks of House Formal, and kindly paid for by the young Countess Myui Formal. It was a feast that would make all the lords that couldn't attend green with jealousy.

And yet Pina was starving.

One thing that she had failed to account for before becoming Empress was the amount of attention she would get. She had long been used to being the scorned, bastard child of the Emperor Molt Sol Augustus; a tomboy who nobody wanted to associate with. At the same time she had despised the decadent nobles of the Senate just as much. She would stay away from them as much as they avoided her, which meant she was able to stuff her face during all the feasts while the other ladies chit-chatted away on the latest small talk. Now, however, she would find herself surrounded by Kings or lords that would like to pledge their allegiance and curry favour from their newest overlord. All this meant that she couldn't spare a moment to grab a bite from the banquet table.

"Your Imperial Majesty!" came yet another King of the Westerlands. Or perhaps he was a Count of an Imperial County? Pina was honestly losing track of who's who. "Congratulations on your crowning! I always thought you had a special flame in you, ever since you were a little girl."

"Congratulations on being proved right," Pina said with a forced smile. She and her Rose knights had been drilled in the art of diplomacy as well as combat, and she knew she had to remain courteous. Even still, she was beginning to find it increasingly difficult to maintain a smile amidst the constant barrage of sweet talk.

The lord/king/count or whatever was raised his glass. "Allow me to pledge my allegiance to you, Empress Pina! My sword and life are forever yours!"

Pina raised her glass as well, taking a careful sip. The night is long, after all, and there were a hundred more lords queuing up to toast to her.

And on came yet another nobleman of some sort, glass in hand, ready to toast. "Your Imperial Majesty, do you remember me?" he asked, giving Pina his name and some sort of story on how they met. Pina didn't recognise the man in the slightest, and was honestly too hungry to listen, but nonetheless she nodded. "Ah, it's so good that you remember me. I actually expected you to be crowned years ago, in fact, but none of the others in the Senate had listened."

That's what they all say... Pina thought to herself. Congratulations on being crowned! I was rooting for you the whole time, but nobody else believed me! She had heard it so many times in the afternoon that she was honestly beginning to wonder if the Gods had cursed her to be meeting the same five or six people all throughout the night.

It was at this time, however, a miracle happened. Sugawara Kouji, the Japanese Ambassador, stepped in to divert the attention of all the nobles. "Good evening, my lord," he said with a charismatic smile. "Forgive me for interrupting, as I'm sure you have important matters to discuss with the Empress, but I couldn't help but notice your velvet cape. It seems to be of remarkable quality."

"Oh, this?" the nobleman said. "Well, you certainly do have exquisite tastes. This is indeed a cape cut from the finest of clothes, imported all the way from the Golden Cities of the Great Western Desert..."

As the nobleman began to brag about the expenses he had paid to obtain his piece of cloth, Sugawara turned Pina and gave a wink. While the action was lost to most of the others present, Pina had learnt enough of the Japanese people to understand the action as a secret signal of trust. She returned the gesture with a grin, and quietly excused herself from the crowd, finally given the chance to make her way to the table.

And of course when she got there Hamilton was already long finished.

"What took you so long, your majesty?"

"What took me so long? Don't act like you're innocent. You abandoned me!" Pina said as she gathered a plateful of food. "Some loyal knight of the Order you are."

Hamilton laughed. "Sorry, sorry... it's just that they looked so excited to meet you, I felt a little out of place."

"'Excited to meet me' isn't exactly how I'd put it," Pina said, as she gnawed on grilled chops with "Barby-Queue" sauce. "Most of them just seem to want to make up for having neglected me the past nineteen years of my life, lest I decide to lop off all their heads."

"If that is how you view us all, your Imperial Majesty, then I believe you are mistaken."

Pina and Hamilton turned towards the sound of the voice. It was a man with a dark brown, goatlike beard on his chin. Unlike many of the other lords and nobles, he did not dress with embroidery or lavish fabrics, instead opting for a modest leather coat, with only a neckless with a small sigil as his accessory. The only thing that gave Pina any hints that the man was a nobleman (or even invited to the coronation at all) was his confident aura, and a stance that Pina had never seen from a commoner.

"You seem under-dressed for a ceremony," Pina noted. "Should I take that as a deliberate attempt to disrespect your new Empress?"

"I came to pledge allegiance to my new Empress as a King, not as a peacock." The man paused, before adding, "And I don't believe your Imperial Majesty to be one to pay much heed to unnecessary customs yourself."

It was then that Pina suddenly realised that she was talking to the man with a half eaten pork chop in hand. She quickly put down her plate and wiped her mouth in embarrassment, causing Hamilton to snigger at Pina's fumbling. "Perhaps not," she admitted. She then focused for a moment on the emblem the man wore around his neck. It was a the crossed tusks of a boar, the emblem worn by the large Barion family who ruled the Kingdoms of the Triax Peninsula, West of the Kingdom of Elbe.

"A King of the Triax Peninsula?" Pina asked. With no small amount of hesitation she added, "That would make you King Jake Barion of Esterwynne, am I correct?"

"A good guess," the man said. "You certainly have the political mapping in your mind to make you a good Empress. Fortunately, you're guess is wrong."

Pina's shoulders relaxed slightly. Jake Barion, one of the most influential Kings of the Triaxi, was well known for his intentions to secede from the Empire. Of course, this man in front of her could easily be one of his supporters, so Pina did not yet let her guard down completely.

The man placed a fist to his heart, "I am King Gilow Barion of Ipria. Jake Barion would be my brother."

With that Pina finally let out a sigh of relief. If Jake was known for his demand of independence, Gilow would be equally renowned for his loyalty. "I apologise if I offend, King Gilow, but I am truly relieved that I speak to you and not to your brother."

The goat bearded King nodded, not seeming to take offence. "It is understandable. I know that my brother's views do not win him many friends in the Empire, and he does too. Even so, he has asked me to swear allegiance to you on his behalf. The same goes for all the lands of the Barion family, but I won't list them off." The King glanced at the crowd of nobles, still being distracted by Sugawara. "I'm sure you've had enough of lords swearing you allegiance for one night."

Pina raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had not expected King Jake Barion of Esterwynne to support her claim to the throne, let alone the entirety of the Triaxi. "Tell them that their loyalty shall be rewarded in time," was all she could say.

The King bowed his head, bidding farewell before taking his leave, allowing Pina to return to her dinner.

Hamilton counted on her fingers. "It seems as if the whole of two worlds are uniting beneath your banner."

"Not the whole of two worlds," Pina said. "While we are certainly at the advantage, we can't get ahead of ourselves."

Hamilton furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean? We have the wealth of the Golden Desert Cities, all the Kingdoms of the west and the south of the continent, and we have the strength of the Jay-Ess-Dee-Eff. Surely, we can win against Zorzal with ease."

Pina shook her head, putting down the bone of a finished chop. "We can't always rely on the Japanese. They may be our allies, but we cannot take more from them than we can give," she said. "And Zorzal's loyalists hold most of the Northern and Eastern Imperial Counties."

"True..." Hamilton admitted. "But the even the strength of all the Empire isn't enough to beat the combined might of the Allied Armies and the Jay-Ess-Dee-Eff without any help, and Zorzal won't have any allies."

"No... he will have allies," Pina said. "There are some Kingdoms that would rather side with Zorzal's madness than accept ideas from the other side of the Gate. The Everlast family, for example."

"The Everlast family? Of the Kingdom of Caste?" Hamilton all but snorted. "Most of them died fighting in the Vineyard Rebellion seven years ago. The current Lady of Caste should be only a little older than Countess Myui."

"Yes, Lady Everlast will be young," Pina agreed. "Young, but no less wealthy, and no less an Everlast."

Aslensaw, Kingdom of Caste

A Vassal State of the Empire

Falmart

Lyn Everlast sat atop her throne in the courtroom, at the top of the Pyramid of Aslensaw. She was the lady of the the Northernmost Kingdom of Falmart, atop the tallest building, and with one of the highest positions short of becoming Emperor. A young girl who had not yet bled was at the top of the world in more ways than one.

It was cold. The high altitude, the Northern location, the proximity to the Ice Mountains, and the coming Winter season made it so. Even still, the Lady Everlast did not budge. She sat in her cold throne, waiting patiently for her guests. It would be rude to not be present when her guests arrived, and the Everlast family were known far and wide for their hospitality to guests.

"Not to worry, m'lady," said the old chamberlain. "I'm sure they won't be much longer."

"You say the same about all our guests, chamberlain," Lyn noted. "Perhaps the pyramid escalator is undermanned this year? Chamberlain, make a note to have the escalator be prioritised for future resource allocations."

"Yes m'lady."

After a long while of waiting the chamber doors were opened, and in walked the emissary of Emperor Zorzal, followed by a bunny slave, coming to a halt just before Lyn's throne. The man bowed, saying, "A thousand blessings upon you Lady Everlast..."

"Oh no, no need for ceremony," Lyn said, standing up and quickly lifting the man from his bow. "You needn't address me so formally. I am but a young girl, and you yourself a proud and experienced nobleman. Make yourself at home, please." She turned back to her hand slaves, "Go fetch some chairs with haste."

The man, clearly taken aback, stood there rather awkwardly. Exactly as Lyn wanted.

The slaves soon found a chair, fabulous in its craftsmanship, and placed it behind the emissary for him to sit in.

"You must be cold," Lyn said. "I apologise that my abode is so unwelcoming and grey. The climate here in the North is quite inhospitable."

"No, I'll be quite alright," the emissary said. It was an obvious lie. He was clearly shivering in his senator's toga.

Lyn shook her head. "This simply cannot do. It would be heresy to let word travel that I let a guest freeze to death in my halls. It would tarnish the Everlast name." Once again turning to her slaves, she ordered, "Get the senator one of the freshly made silver-tail coats. And get someone to make a hot beverage."

The senator watched as the handslaves ran off to comply with the young lady's orders, still quite uneasy by the irregular pacing of that the conversation had taken. The handslaves got him the coat, which he quite accepted apprehensively, followed by the warm beverage, which he accepted less apprehensively. Lyn watched with an eager as the senator sipped the hot liquid, warming up his body and allowing colour to return to his face.

It always filled her with pride watching ambassadors and travellers and guests from the world over slowly warming up in her icy Pyramids. It was Everlast tradition, after all, to be kind to their guests. It also meant that their guards were lowered when it was time to talk business.

Finally having warmed up after finishing the beverage the senator spoke up again.

"I am senator Scopirus, sent by the Emperor Zorzal," he said, finally introducing himself. "I believe Your Grace should be aware of the situation that the Empire is in. The capital being decimated by foreigners from another world and the pretender Pina co Lada claiming the throne for herself."

"Oh goodness... I'm not very good at politics," Lyn lied. "Is it alright if you could keep things simple for me? I am but a child, and my mind has its limits."

"... Yes, well," the senator hesitated, never having had to negotiate with a young girl before. "To put things simply, we're asking to borrow money."

Lyn tilted her head quizzingly. "Chamberlain? How much has the Imperial Crown borrowed from the Everlast Family up until now?"

"Seven million Suwani, not including interest, my lady," the old chamberlain reported.

Lyn smiled. That was the exact number she had in mind as well. "When somebody borrows something, they're supposed to give it back, right?"

"Yes, my lady," the chamberlain agreed.

"Senator Scopirus... don't you think it's strange to keep borrowing without giving anything back?" Lyn asked with a smile.

The senator shifted awkwardly in his seat, trying to find a way to explain things to Lyn. With every squirm Lyn could feel his bargaining power slip away from him. Sometimes the simplicity of a child's logic was all that was needed to cause a man to doubt himself.

Just when Lyn was about to press, however, the bunny girl suddenly spoke.

"You're fooling nobody with your act, lady Everlast," she said. "You know exactly the political state of the Empire right now. It's rude to be taking advantage of the Empire when it's weakest, don't you think?"

Lyn turned to look at the bunny girl. She didn't let her smile fall from her face, but she certainly seethed at being talked back to by a slave. Only her honour as an Everlast kept her from lashing out, since being courteous to guests also meant treating their possessions with care.

The chamberlain, however, did step forward. "Careful, rabbit. You are speaking to Lyn Everlast of Caste. A slave should not speak out of turn."

"That applies to you as well, chamberlain," Lyn said, raising her hand for him to stop. "Not all slaves are as well trained as those made in Aslensaw."

The old chamberlain nodded, silencing himself.

Lyn took a moment to study the bunny warrior. She stood with the demeanour that didn't betray her status as a slave. There were physical marks on her, and there was a brokenness of spirit, yes, but there were many things that showed she wasn't a slave in her own mind. It was almost as though the object thought of itself as a person. A most amusing notion held by many Southern slaves.

"I do believe that you're the former princess of the warrior bunnies," Lyn concluded. "The personal slave of Zorzal, am I correct? You went by the name of Tyuule?"

The bunny girl refused to answer.

"I apologise if I have misunderstood," Lyn continued. "Do you mind elaborating on what you meant earlier?"

"We're in a civil war. All the Kingdoms of the West and South have allied with the pretender Pina. Wars are expensive, and we need money. You should know more than any of us exactly how much money we need." The bunny girl sneered. "Or have the Everlast family lost their magical ability of financial sense?"

Lyn successfully concealed a wince at Tyuule's remark. "I am quite aware of the costs of a war."

"Good," Tyuule said. "So you should also be aware that there isn't much space to haggle. We require ten two Suwani, and we will purchase all the slave corps on lease for another two million Suwani."

Lyn hesitated for a moment. On the one hand, it was a terrible deal, since her slaves armies were worth much more, and her money would be better spent on investing in breaking the Pypi spice monopoly. On the other hand, if Zorzal loses the civil war then he will never be able to pay back the Everlast family, and he will lose the war very quickly without money. She was choosing between minimising her losses or gambling on Zorzal's victory.

"Perfectly reasonable," Lyn said, ending her pause. She realised that she had taken far too long to think, and had weakened her bargaining position in doing so, but the senator was too much of a pampered buffoon to notice. Since the senator was both the official ambassador and also an incompetent idiot, Lyn turned her focus back to him. "But I demand collateral for the loans."

"Of course, my lady," Senator Scopirus said with a nod. "We understand the risks taken by the Everlast house by lending such funds to the Empire in times of crisis. If we are unable to repay our debts within fifty years the house of Everlast shall be given title of the County of Greymont."

Lyn's smile widened. She had the senator right where she wanted him now.

"While I understand I'm pushing my position," she said modestly, "I would ask that the Everlast family take partial control of Greymont before the debt is repaid. Otherwise it'd be difficult to prove that the Empire will keep to its word."

"That is unaccept..." The bunny slave and former princess once again started to speak out of turn, but Lyn halted her in her speech.

"I understand your loyalty to your master, bunny slave, and I will excuse you for speaking where it isn't your place," Lyn said, with chill finally seeping into her voice. "But I would like to remind you that you are only a slave, and have no right to influence the decision of the official ambassador, Senator Scopirus." Lyn turned to the Senator one last time, with a smile as sweet as she could muster. "So what will it be, honourable Senator? Do you accept the terms asked of you by the Lady of Everlast? Or will you let your strings be pulled by a slave who thinks herself to be a master?"

The senator sat awkwardly, shifting in his seat even more awkwardly than when he had come in. After much deliberation, he finally nodded. "On behalf of Emperor Zorzal El Caesar of the Empire, I accept your terms."

Tyuule shot the senator a glare, which caused the nobleman to tense up slightly. It was a fact that Lyn found most peculiar... that a slave could command so much fear over a nobleman. Regardless, the deal had been sealed.

"Wonderful," Lyn said. She stood up and clapped her hands together. "Then let us celebrate the agreement we have reached."

As her words echoed through the courtroom a dozen slave whores dressed in fine silks and furs that were warm but revealing entered and slowly surrounded the Imperial Senator, who himself sat in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and anticipation. Whatever his worries were earlier, they melted away at the sight of beautiful, half naked women.

"You seem shocked, senator. Have you not heard to stories of Everlast generosity?" Lyn chuckled. "If so, please enjoy these gifts of mine to you. The nights here are long and cold... I do believe they'll help you stay warm during your stay. Now if you'll excuse me"

With a flourish, Lyn turned and left, with her old chamberlain after her. As she did she felt the cold glare of Tyuule following after her. The senator, conversely, was completely occupied.

As soon as they were out of earshot her chamberlain began to speak his mind. "M'lday,if I may say so, I believe that lending Zorzal such large sums of money is only increasing the risk of default."

"Riskier investments yield greater returns," Lyn said. "Even assuming the worst, I'd only be losing a few million Suwani."

Chamberlain continued to plead her to reconsider. "Even with all the armies and slaves money can buy, Zorzal couldn't possibly win," he said. "The armies of the Empire have broken time and again against the infamous Men in Green, and those men support Pina's claim. All Zorzal will be doing is throwing the hard earned coin and well trained slaves of Aslensaw to the pyre."

"I don't expect Zorzal to win, chamberlain," Lyn retorted. "Nor do I question what he'll do with his newly bought slaves. I'm merely exchanging liquid assets for land and titles. We could easily raise more slaves from Greymont. That's how we've worked for generations, isn't it?"

"M'lady, Greymont would not be worth such a large sum of money..."

Lyn rolled her eyes as she walked. "Tell that to the Count of Greymont. Do you think he'll sell us his title directly?"

"No, but we needn't lend Zorzal both funds and armies," the old man reasoned. "It would have been wiser to ask for separate contracts for both."

The Lady Everlast came to a crashing halt, twisting around abruptly to face her adviser and slave. "You think I don't know that?" she hissed. "Do you honestly think I'm still the helpless, clueless girl I was when I first sat on that hideous throne? I've ruled Caste for over half my life now, and if you treat me as a fool I will have your remaining fingers cut off."

The old chamberlain stumbled, nodding apologetically. "I didn't mean to say that..."

Lyn waved him aside. "It was that bunny slave. She ruined everything." The lady paused for a moment, surprised at her own words. It was the first time a slave had ever spoken up against her like that... not even the loyal and wise chamberlain slave dared to talk back to her. "Chamberlain, how is it that a slave like her has the right to speak during negotiations?"

"It is a problem that you will find quite often in the Empire," the chamberlain explained. "As you know, slavery practices are less refined there. Every once in a while a slave with dangerous cunning may find their way to the height of power, reversing the roles of the whipped and the whip holder."

The young Lady scoffed. With such irresponsible handling of property it was no wonder that the Empire had brought itself into a civil war. No matter. She would settle for a single County in the Empire in exchange for her wealth and soldiers, just as her ancestors had done way back in the Arctic War. The politics of the Empire were not hers to judge.

Not yet, at least.

The Great Western Desert, Western Confederation

Falmart

Having been the Khat of the Huutag tribe for nearly a decade now, Khat Rurbag had learnt to dread meeting with his fellow Western Desert tribe Khats. He hated them because they were predictable, and not in a way he would like. The other orc Khats he would have to meet with would always fall into one of two basic categories: Old Guard that tied themselves to caution and tradition, and immature newcomers that thirsted too much for blood. Not that this was a surprise to Rurbag, since they were orcs after all, and an orc that didn't want the honour of battle was like a bird afraid of flying.

Rurbag fit into neither categories. While he understood the importance of respecting their past and he too enjoyed the thrill of a good fight, he also realised that sticking too close to tradition or violence would doom his tribe in the near future. What they needed was reform. They needed new ways of thinking, a new system to organise their people, new tools to help them do their work, and new lands to work on. Rurbag knew these were the things that were needed not just for his tribe, but for all orcs in the Great Western Desert. Yet every time he tried to convince his fellow Khats, they would laugh at him, mock him, scorn him, and ignore him to go back to their own comfort zones. Despite presenting new solutions to every council meeting, Rurbag would always end up watching as the once mighty Western Confederation die a slow and painful death.

Knowing this Rurbag sat down into the circle of the council's meeting hall with a heavy sigh, completing the Council of Western Khats. With all the Khats of the western tribes gathered the meeting was now ready to take place.

"My fellow Khats, let us commence this council meeting of the Western Confederacy." The elderly Yambug, the Khat of Oodin tribe, stood up. Yambug was Grand Khat of the Confederacy, meaning he would be chairing the council meeting. "I believe you are all aware of the developments that have happened within the past year... with our Wise and All-powerful Goddess Hardy choosing to open the Holy Gate of Alnus, and the war between the Human Empire and the Men in Green."

A few of the younger Khats began to murmur amongst each other. The Holy Gate of Alnus was far, far away, as were the Men that emerged from them. Even if the Empire was at war with the newcomers, the Western Confederacy of Orcs held no allegiance to the Human Imperial Monarchy. So why was a meeting being called over an issue so far away?

Yambug raised his hands to silence the Khats in order for him to continue explaining. "Yes, I understand that this is not our war, nor do I intend it to make it so. You may place your faith in me that I would not call you all from your tribes to discuss clouds that I see on the horizon. I say this as a backdrop to the true purpose of this meeting."

"And what is the 'true purpose of this meeting', old man?" Khat Xhor of the Meern tribe spoke. He was the most outspoken of the Khats, and the only Khat that openly spoke ill of the Grand Khat. While this meant he would lose respect from the older, more traditional minded tribe leaders it meant he quickly gained favour of the other young chiefs. "Because every minute I waste here talking to fossils like you, I have a minute less to lead my tribe on raids!"

"Hear hear!" many of the young Khats that followed Xhor agreed. "The resources of the Great Desert diminish every season! We should be spending our time gathering and waging war! Not talking about clouds!"

Yambug raised his hands once again, gradually settling the feverish younger orcs. "Yes yes... I am aware of all that..." he said, not raising his voice. "That too is related to my calling of this meeting. For as winter approaches this year's raiding has yielded insufficient fruits to last us through unforgiving harshness of the cold season... we have not enough food to feed our families, not enough gold to purchase food with, nor enough slaves that we may sell."

"If you know this then send us back to our tribes so that we may raid some more!" Xhor shouted, pounding his fist on his knee. "The Empire has been in chaos since the Gate has opened! They leave the Great Wall of the Mountain Watch undermanned! Their lands are ripe for picking! All we have to do is venture further, out into the faraway lands outside the boundaries of the Great Desert!"

"You dare to suggest that we leave the protection of the Western Desert? And venture beyond the Mountain Watch?" cried one of the older Khats. "You're beginning to sound like Rurbag!"

"I suggest that we raid the heretics that live outside our lands!" Xhor countered. "We will bring back their food and wealth so we may live past the winter!"

Rurbag sighed. While Xhor's suggestion was better than watching even more orcs and kinsmen and even their slaves starve or freeze to death in the cold winters of the desert, it was still a terrible idea. There had always been difficulty crossing from the Western Desert into the green pastures of the plains due to the long wall the Empire had constructed to keep Orc raiders away. With the Zorzal and Pina in a civil war the Mountain Watch was understrength, meant getting into Imperial lands was no longer the issue. An attempt to raid so far away from the Western Desert would mean the raiding parties would be operating in unfamiliar land and would have difficulty bringing their loot back home, not to mention that the suggestion was only a temporary solution to the increasingly inevitable extinction of their people.

"What we need to do..." Rurbag spoke up, "is leave the Great Western Desert for more fertile lands that we may farm on. Lands where grass and trees grow, that we may replace with crops and cattle so we needn't rely on the fruits of risky raiding parties."

And of course the entirety of the council broke into laughter. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last.

"The fool suggests we leave the sacred lands of our ancestors! Ha!" one of the older Khats said, wheezing in his hearty roars. "And not just for raids! But permanently!"

"He has grown soft!" said one of the younger Khats, pointing at Rurbag in ridicule. "He believes that raiding is too risky! That we should stoop down to farming on green land!"

Xhor, of all the Khats, laughed loudest. "Hear him! Hear this buffoon that you compare me to! He respects neither our traditions nor our strengths! This weakling Rurbag that should have been born a cowardly hobbit!" He turned to Xhor. "Only the fools of tribe Huutag would choose such a disgrace of an orc to be their Khat!"

Rurbag glared at Xhor, pointing at the younger Khat and saying with ice cold fury. "Insult me all you like. All of you Khats have the right to make fun of me, and my suggestions. I only wish to bring forward suggestions that I believe will serve our people the best, and if you disagree with me you may all laugh as much as you please. But if you insult my tribe, Xhor, I will see your blood drain into the sands."

If Xhor was intimidated by Rurbag's threat he certainly didn't show it. Instead he rose up, arms open in a challenge. "The Huutag clown tries to frighten me! A mouse trying to frighten a lion!" he bellowed. "If you truly are of orc born then come! Make good on your words! See if you can defeat me in battle!"

The laughter died down in an instant amidst the sudden tension between the two Khats. Many of them were already trying to size up the two orc leaders and deciding which of them to place wagers on should they truly enter a duel. Xhor was certainly younger, stronger, and larger, like a savage, unstoppable beast, but Rurbag was by no means helpless. Though the Khats enjoyed chuckling at his asinine suggestions they also knew that Rurbag's fighting skills were nothing to laugh at.

"Enough!"

The Grand Khat stood up from his seat, finally raising his voice to a shout. Though he could not yell as loudly as Xhor or Rurbag due to his age, his voice seemed to carry much greater impact as he broke the tension with a single word. "Xhor! Be seated now!"

Xhor shot a burning glance at the Grand Khat, but unlike the previous times he had spoken against the old man, the old man stared right back, and in the battle of willpower the older Khat won easily over the younger one. Grudgingly, Xhor sat back down.

Satisfied that he once again held the attention of all the Khats of the council the elderly orc got back to the agenda.

"I have taken account of all your suggestions before in our previous council meetings," he said. "And while I believe your intentions are in the right place, we are not so desperate to rely on these measures at this time."

Both Rurbag and Xhor grimaced. With all their disagreements they both did see that merely sticking to the past was going to doom the Western Confederacy, potentially even in this very winter.

"But..." Grand Khat Yambug continued. "I do have an option that is worth considering to announce. That is the true purpose of this meeting. A few days ago I was approached by a messenger from the Imperial Prince Zorzal..." the mention of the name caused several of the orcs to hiss and murmur in anger. Prince Zorzal was a villainous scoundrel that allied himself with the heretic orcs to the East, after all, and his genocide of the bunny warrior people gained him much infamy. Even the orcs of the Western Confederacy, for all their bloodlust, reviled his acts as barbarous and foolhardy. "While I agree that the methods of the Imperial Prince are most distasteful, he has come to us with an offer that I find myself hard pressed to refuse."

"Just tell us what the suggestion is already, old man!" Xhor spoke once again, clearly getting impatient.

"Yes, in a moment... but first let us talk more of the Gate." Yambug's response caused Xhor to groan in displeasure but the Grand Khat pressed on. "The Gate on Alnus Hill leads to another world... the world where the Men in Green that has warred with the Empire come from, and the very lands that Prince Zorzal wants most to conquer. The messenger that the Prince sent requested that the tribes of the Western Confederacy send warriors. They intend to send an army across the Gate to attack the nation on the other side while their people are undefended."

"How do we achieve this when Alnus Hill is so far away!" one of the older Khats couldn't help but interrupt. This immediately opened the flood gates to other questions. "Why should we obey the Imperial Prince?" "Alnus Hill is rumoured to have devoured entire armies! How does Zorzal expect to sneak warriors through the Gate there?"

"If you would all let me finish," Yambug said, quieting the Khats back down. "Your concerns are all things that I asked the messenger myself. And it appears that these questions have already been considered... for it turns out he does not intend for us to send warriors to through the Gate at Alnus."

This caused the Khats to pause and murmur. They didn't understand until Yambug followed with the devastating new truth:

"He claims that a second Gate has appeared in the middle of the Great Western Desert."

The words that the Grand Khat said were understood by the orcs individually, but the sentence that he had strung together was one that they had to take a long time to register. It was impossible, after all, for a 'second' Gate to open. There had always been but a single Gate, the Gate upon the Holy Alnus Hill. What other Gate could there be? No other such Gate had ever existed before, nor would they ever exist afterwards. Eventually, though, the Grand Khat's words truly sank into the minds of the council.

"What!?"

"A second Gate?"

"Impossible!"

"In the Western Desert?"

"This has never happened before in history!"

The council immediately began to cry out in confusion. Even Rurbag was quite taken aback, and he was much more open minded than his fellow Khats. "This has... never happened before in history..." he muttered to himself. "What in Hardy's name...?"

The Grand Khat Yambug gave the council several minutes to get over their initial shock, before raising his hand to settle them down once again.

"This is certainly disturbing news to us all... but you may make of it what you wish in your own time," he said. "As many of you have noted, time is short. The more time you spend bickering about what is and isn't impossible, the less time we spend on gathering for the upcoming winter." He turned back to one his slaves behind him, gesturing to them. As soon as he did so the slaves brought from behind the Grand Khat's chair several large chests, opening them to reveal many pieces of gold. "The Imperial Prince offers, in exchange for our warriors, enough wealth to last us through several winters as you see here. The more warriors that are sent the more gold he will give to each tribe. Since the sending of warriors to another world will disturb the balance between the tribes of the Confederacy, I have called you all together today in order to make the decision as a council. I need you all to think carefully before deciding... after that we shall vote as a council whether we choose to accept the Prince's offer."

The council sat in silence for the precious seconds they had to contemplate the offer. Zorzal was known as a schemer and betrayer, and the orcs hated his dishonest methods. To stoop so low as to working for Zorzal as mercenaries was something that all Khats of the Western Desert found distasteful. On the other hand... the chests in front of them certainly held a lot of gold...

No... Rurbag thought to himself. This will only be a temporary measure still! Even if we are able to buy provisions to last us ten winters it only means we are delaying our problems for ten years!

But he knew the other Khats would not agree with him. They were all looking at the gold too intently. Rurbag could only shake his head defeatedly as he once again cursed the short-sightedness of orc-kind.

"It is time to decide," Grand Khat Yambug said. "Honourable Khats of the Western Desert Confederacy... those who agree with Zorzal's proposition, raise your hands."

The council did as asked with Rurbag the only Khat in the room whom did not raise his hand.

"We have come to a majority decision," Yambug announced. "Let us now decide how many warriors each tribe shall send through the great Gate of the Desert. May honour be brought unto us all."

Gobi Desert, Inner Mongolia, China

Earth

The political instructor Yang Xiaoli sat in her office, listened to the WeChat voice message on her phone. It was a long message, written in formal mail format and filled with uncorrected mistakes, easily giving away that the message sender was not adept at text messaging. Having gotten used to these messages Xiaoli was more than capable of making all the corrections mentally.

Dear Xiaoli... it said. It's been a long time since we've received word from you. How are you doing? Are you eating well in the army? Everyone in the family is doing well. Your older brother and his wife have just conceived a baby, a plump, healthy baby boy. We are all very happy for him. Your little sister is about to get married to little Fang from the other side of the village, do you remember him? He's grown up to be quite tall and strong.

We have also received the money that you sent to us. I hope you are still saving enough money for yourself so you can buy a house when you get married. Try to bring home a city boy, they're always nice to their wives.

Your father still won't talk about you. I know you think that he hates you, but he just needs time.

Lots of Love, your mother.

"Are you finished looking playing on your phone?" the captain of the company, Sun Beifang, yelled. "We're still missing a player here!"

"Can't you play mahjong somewhere else?" Xiaoli asked as she put her phone down.

Beifang took a drag from his cigarette as he shrugged. "I don't have space in my own office. You've got plenty of space. Don't be greedy with your land, now! Sharing is what the socialist spirit is all about."

Xiaoli shook her head. Sun Beifang, out of all the people in the room, probably cared least about socialist spirit, with the exception of maybe First Lieutenant Li Zheng.

"If you're going to storm into my office, set up a table and start shuffling tiles then so be it," Xiaoli said. "But don't try to drag me into your games. I'm busy planning for the next political lecture."

And in an instant Sun Beifang and Li Zheng groaned. They made almost no attempt to hide their lack of concern for the Party's ideology... an ideology that Xiaoli represented, and personally tried hard to hold faith in. Their open apathy towards Xiaoli's lectures were a cause of much grief for her, just as much as her lectures were to them.

"Can't you take a moment to chill with the rest of us?" Beifang asked. "You're not a machine. Take some time off. Just sit down, play some mahjong and drink some tea with us."

"It's not like anyone really properly follows the teachings to the letter anymore," Li Zheng said. "Otherwise most people in the government wouldn't be so corrupt."

Xiaoli shot Zheng a glare, causing the latter the shrink into his seat. While Beifang was ranked equal to her, meaning he was able to get away with inappropriate comments, Zheng was third in command, and oftentimes more outspoken.

On the other hand, she knew that they had a point. No matter how much she tried to believe in an ideology and how much she tried to get others in the company to follow, so long as they didn't want to listen it didn't matter the work she put in. She'd be toiling away at nothing, so she might as well just take a moment off.

"Fine," she said, almost grudgingly. "But we're playing Sichuan rules."

"Heh, but Sichuan rules are basically luck based," Beifang complained. "There's no skill involved."

Xiaoli shrugged. "Or we could have a political education session now. Up to you."

It didn't take long for Beifang to concede after that.

So Xiaoli sat down around the table with captain Sun and lieutenant Li, and finally private Jin. The last of which was someone who really didn't have the rank to just be loitering around in the political instructor's office like Beifang or Zheng could, but he was the type that always weaseled his way into things.

"Here, comrade instructor," he said, taking out a cigarette and offering to Xiaoli. "Have a smoke."

The scent of the rich tobacco immediately caught Xiaoli's attention. Evidently it wasn't one of the cheap brands, and the thought of an expensive, name brand cigarette became increasingly tempting for Xiaoli to just accept, but she also knew the private was just trying to kiss up to authority. She declined his offer, only for captain Beifang to take it up instead despite already having a smoke between his lips.

"If you aren't gonna smoke it, I will," he said as he put snatched away the cigarette stick and shoved it into his breast pocket.

And that's why private Jin is able to sit here with the commissioned officers, Xiaoli thought. He's a walking cigarette dispenser for the captain's chain smoking habits.

This was what the People's Liberation Army had come down to. Peasants and unemployed students looking for an iron rice bowl so they could play games, drink, smoke, and bribe away their lives while pocketing government funds.

After shuffling and dealing, Xiaoli looked at her cards. It was an average hand. She'd had better.

"Twenty-thousand," Beifang said, placing down a tile and drawing one from the center. "This hand sucks dick. The fengshui in your office is all wrong, you know that?"

Xiaoli ignored him. "Nine circles," she said as she placed down her most useless tile to exchange for one of the center tiles.

"Five circles," private Jin placed did the same.

"Earth hand." Li Zheng took Jin's tile, and smacked his entire deck down onto the table.

"What? What!? No fucking way!" Sun Beifang said, nearly jumping out of his seat. "You've got to be kidding me! Every fucking time, this bloody race traitor keeps getting the best hand! I swear this guy's cheating!"

Li Zheng was taken aback, with a look of complete innocence on his face. "I didn't cheat, really! It was just luck!" He turned to Xiaoli with pleading eyes. "You believe me, right comrade instructor?"

"Race traitor. No cheating," was all Xiaoli said on the issue.

"But I..." Li Zheng started before giving up. While Xiaoli knew Li Zheng probably wasn't cheating she didn't particularly care, so any debate would merely be wasted time.

'Race Traitor' or 'hanjian' was a term used to describe ethnic turncoats, usually Chinese that collaborated with the Japanese Imperialists in the Sino-Japanese war. It was a derogatory term, and just so happened to be Lieutenant Li's nickname in the company on the basis that he tended to believe pro-Western propaganda. He was incidentally one of the only men in the company that genuinely believed smoking to be bad for health (a notion that Xiaoli personally found most peculiar).

"It's alright," Jin said, now kissing up to the company's third in command. "I'm sure it was just luck, s..."

Before the private could finish, though, he suddenly stood up from his chair, with a look of surprise as he stared in the direction of the door. Quickly he stood at attention, rigid training shoving him into perfect posture as he saluted. Such a sudden change caused Xiaoli to furrow her eyebrows in confusion as she turned to look at the door, and only moments later she too had risen from her chair, saluting in perfect posture. Li Zheng followed a split second afterwards. Only the captain, Sun Beifang, remained in his seat, slowly smoking his cigarette.

"Colonel Dao, sir," the private announced.

The aforementioned colonel walked in, eyeing each of the others in the room, then at the mahjong table. Xiaoli felt a chill run down her spine, having been caught shirking off duty after having had an otherwise flawless record so far.

"Don't mind me. Sit back down. Keep playing. I'll watch." The grey haired colonel said. His tone of voice did not match his words.

The two junior most boys glanced at each other sheepishly, not quite knowing what to do. Not that Xiaoli knew either. She just stood there dumbly, trying to hide her guilt beneath a mask. Captain Sun, meanwhile, continued to sit there like a rebellious teenager.

"What's wrong?Don't you guys want to play anymore?" the colonel asked rhetorically. "Or are you all starting to feel ashamed of yourselves?"

Nobody said anything. The colonel was usually a decent figure, fair to everyone in the regiment, but that was when everyone was doing well. Nobody dared to talk straight back to the colonel when he was angry. Nobody except Beifang.

"I'm not ashamed," Beifang said, genuinely unapologetic. "I've nothing to be ashamed of. Ask the political instructor." He pointed at Xiaoli, diverting pressure to her. Xiaoli scowled at him, but he didn't seem to care.

Colonel Dao turned to face the company's political officer. "Is that so?" he asked. "Comrade Yang Xiaoli, do you agree that you've all done nothing to be ashamed of?"

"... No, sir," she answered honestly, albeit with much hesitation. "We were lazing around when we should have been working, sir."

"And who do you think should shoulder the responsibility?" the grey haired colonel continued. "Who's responsibility should it be to maintain discipline and unit cohesion?"

"... Mine, sir." Xiaoli admitted.

The colonel nodded. He said nothing about punishment, but the the thought still lingered in Xiaoli's mind. Instead he turned back to Beifang. "And what about you?" he asked. "Sitting around playing mahjong when the entire Army Group is about to hold war games tomorrow. Do you think this is appropriate?"

Beifang blew out a puff of smoke. "I get it," he said. "You want me to feel bad because I'm not getting the company ready for tomorrow, right? Well it's a waste of time. The company's already as good as it needs to be."

"Good as it needs to be?" the colonel said, raising his eyebrows, his temper rising just as much.

With a casual shrug Beifang stated, "8th company has been the best performing company in the regiment for two decades now. You should be going around the other companies and telling them to get into shape."

The colonel glared at the captain, who still had yet to stand and salute. Colonel placed a hand on the mahjong table, leaning in towards Beifang as he said, "You think you can ride on the hard work of others, don't you? You think that so long as the company keeps doing well you can get away with lack of discipline. Well let me tell you, you have nothing to do with the company's performance."

"It's not like the company's done worse since I was put in charge," Beifang said. "And I didn't pay for my position. I worked for it."

The colonel fumed, visibly on the verge of snapping out at Beifang. It was at this time that private Jin, ever the opportunist, suddenly stepped in, saying. "Don't mind him, colonel... here, have a cigarette."

Colonel Dao glared at the private. Having gotten to his rank he'd seen his fair share of ass-kissing and bribery, and to him private Jin's attempt was nothing short of insultingly crude. Nonetheless he snatched the cigarette, lighting it himself and letting his anger fickle out in a trail of smoke. Finally he pointed at Beifang. "Alright. Play it your way. If 8th company keeps doing well, I'll let you play the princeling all you want. But if 8th company ever slips from the top, I will see you out."

Sun Beifang, not at all intimidated, merely stared back at the colonel. "Settled."

With a final grunt of displeasure the colonel stormed out. When his footsteps could no longer be heard, Li Zheng and private Jin both let out a relieved sigh. Xiaoli prefered to think of having more self restraint than the two of them, but ever her shoulders slumped noticeably.

"I don't know how you keep getting away with that," Li Zheng said, shaking his head. "The colonel hates your guts but you never get in trouble."

"Looks like I'm just that good," Beifang said with a smug grin. "You'll be amazed at what you can get away with excellence."

"Of course sir," Jin nodded. "You certainly are the best captain in the regiment."

"With the best company," Beifang bragged.

But Xiaoli couldn't bring herself to feel the same. She knew why Beifang was getting out of trouble so easily, and it wasn't because of his skill as a captain. As good as Sun Beifang was, there were better leaders in the regiment than him who still bore the brunt of the colonels anger during slip ups. Beifang probably knew the reason himself, and just didn't want to admit it. It was because Beifang was the son of the general.

This was what the People's Liberation Army had come down to. Peasants and unemployed university graduates looking for an iron ricebowl at the bottom, with bribery and nepotism in its leadership. The great army that was supposed to serve the Party, the People, and the Motherland in times of strife, now an embodiment of the worst of Chinese society as a whole.

"If imperialists invaded the Motherland right now we'd be caught completely off guard," she sighed.

"Well it's not like imperialists are going to actually invade in the near future anyway!" Beifang said. "Isn't that right race traitor? You had an education. You tell her."

Li Zheng paused, glancing between his two superiors, deciding who to agree on for the argument. "Well... I mean, earlier this year there was the Gate that opened up in Ginza."

"Where?"

"Ginza. It's in Tokyo, Japan," Li Zheng explained. "A Gate opened all of a sudden, and a bunch of medieval soldiers and monsters popped out and started attacking everyone."

"Oh that," Beifang said. "Takes a race traitor to know the geography of Japan. Well... nobody cares if a few Japs die anyway. And it's not like a Gate's just going to pop up in the middle of Tiananmen square all of a sudden. Besides... if we're going to have a whole day of live ammunition drills tomorrow then we need to be well rested first. Now sit back down, we haven't finished our game yet. Li Zheng may have come first, but we can still race for second."

All Xiaoli could do was shake her head. Captain Beifang had made his decision, and nothing anyone else said will change anything.