Return Of The Anarchists - 18 Fall Of The Empire
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18 Fall Of The Empire

He Lifted his hands in front of his face and all he could see was sticky red liquid dripping from it.

"Stupid! Stupid! StupiD!"

"It's all my fault."

His small hands clenched until the knuckles whitened.

"Mom! Dad! Tina!"

"Please say something."

There was no response.

"Anything..."

They were all gone.

"Please..."

The Empire's soldiers had killed them.

Why?

Why did they have to die!

He didn't know.

Perhaps some n.o.ble had gotten offended for some petty reason or they had committed some minor crime.

He didn't care why either.

That was how cheap life was here.

If you didn't have any standing, or backing you will be immediately killed in broad daylight.

There were no consequences anyways.

Why was he the only still alive?

Just because he had refused to leave his room that day?

All he did know was that the Empire's soldiers killed them.

They had to pay the price for his death!

Killing is unforgivable!

But who would he kill.

The boys hatred was too large to just kill off his family's murderers.

He didn't even know which n.o.ble it was.

Even if he was killed another would rise in place.

It would be pointless

But that none of that mattered.

He would just destroy the entire Empire.

Simple enough right!

Why bother with the details, he would just bring the entire empire to its knees.

Everything else was irrelevant.

The boy smiled brightly. The fires of vengeance had already been lit.

That was when the fate of the empire was sealed

Because the name of the boy was Martin Glace.

Once he was determined to destroy something, nothing was capable of stopping him.

------

6 years later, the goal was achieved. All with the help of the biggest puppeteer and mastermind in history - Lucas Nothstein.

The Anarchists had grown all over the world. It was like a cancer. They couldn't be treated or removed. Under the oppressive regime their revolutionary ideas spread like the common cold.

They operated under the cover of darkness.

However not everyone got to see their true face.

To many n.o.bles of the Empire, they were a shady organization that did arms dealing aiming to dominate the black market..

To the Empire they were just a bunch of Stratocracy radicals that got banished plotting the downfall of the Hope Federation.

To the other nations they were empire rebels.

Most of the n.o.bles had been pitted against each other .

Controlling the balance of power from behind the shadows some even believed that they were aiming for world domination, which to an extent they had indeed achieved.

That's when they finally made their move.

They tipped the war in the favor of the Empire and pushed the other two nations to the brink of collapse.

Everything was ready and prepared. As external conflicts became irrelevant, internal conflicts rose steadily. Everyone was in position.

Lucas had rearranged the Empire into a stack of dominoes.

All that was left, was to tip off the first piece.

Martin looked through his scope at the man exiting the Royal Palace. He paused for a second while entering his car.

The second was all Martin needed.

His eyes were devoid of all emotions and an extreme calm gripped him.

Even though he was full of rage and the person who killed his parent was right within his scope.

The vengeance boiled within him, threatening to break through his composure, yet Lucas wasn't affected in the least. He had long begin to control his vengeance as a weapon than let vengeance control him.

All he knew was that this person was a target. Someone the Anarchists wanted gone.

The Poor Duke's head blew up like a watermelon as the armor piercing bullet flew right through his head.

The head of the Rose family had died just like that. The pieces were now set in motion and the fall had begun.

The blame was on the heads of the unsuspecting Lavender family.

Next the Rose and Lavender families started a covert war.

Then news was released that the Lily families had planned out the a.s.sa.s.sination. and had put the blame on the lavenders.

The dominoes kept on falling.

The final straw on the camel's back was the King's death.

The king had long fled the capital, that was being terrorized by Vincent under a bomb threat.

The army, the n.o.bles and advisers were all trapped in the Palace.

However the king had long fled.

He didn't get too far.

The Anarchists didn't even bother with him.

He was stabbed in the back by his most faithful servant.

Who had long been infected with the ideals of Anarchy.

After all, Those who misuse power will always face retaliation.

The entire Empire went up in chaos when the servant threw the king's severed head into the palace.

It was pure chaos.

Before anyone could react.

The Empire had fallen from the within after weakening the other two nations.

The blood of the n.o.bles had been used to draw the symbol of the Anarchists.

Right under it were the three principles.

Power. Vengeance. Chaos.

Their bodies spelled out the word Anarchy.

The world world knew right then.

A new organization had risen in the shadows.

They called themselves The Anarchists.

However to the two remaining superpowers-

They were a pack of wild wolves,

out for their blood.

------

Lucas looked at Martin.

Martin didn't cry in happiness as his vengeance was over.

Neither did he become a broken person with no goal in life.

When he had first joined the Anarchists his eyes would always be ice-cold.

Calm and emotionless.

Yet Lucas had seen what wasn't there.

A fire deep within. A fire of vengeance.

As Martin worked with them, they were many times when they had disagreements.

Times when he was vicious towards the Empire.

However he had soon changed.

He had evolved. As Anarchy showed him the true reality of the planet.

He slowly started to develop a killer's code.

He would take vengeance for those who couldn't.

Today, his thirst had been quenched.

He wasn't empty as he still had something to live for.

He had the Anarchists behind him.

Lucas was curious to see how Martin will change now, that his Vengeance had been quenched.

Lucas then turned and looked at the destruction and aftermath left behind by them.

Later he would often wonder why did they become labelled as an evil organization.

Did they use too much blood when drawing the symbol. Probably not...

Now he just smiled at the fallen nation.

It was just the beginning.

The Empire was split between the Stratocracy and Federation like a hot pie.

The Anarchists didn't care who ruled.

To them all rulers were nothing but targets.

"So what is our next target."

"The Federation is to messy right now."

"It is time to blow up the Stratocracy.

Those military dogs have been having things too easy. Haven't they."

"Yes indeed."