"What Madness Is This?" Volume III: The Pinnacle Future
- Thread starter Napoleon53
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Now, this one is better."Reposting," because this version is so vastly improved and kicks so much ass that I cannot recommend enough checking it out. I am very proud.
The sky was blood red over Malta as the weakening tendrils of the sun sank below the dark water of the Mediterranean. The parapets, turrets, and machicolations of Cardinal Apollo Karras's personal keep cast heavy shadows onto the small village of Ta Sannat below. The castle had been there since the Crusades, modified during the Enlightenment, and had been fought over many times during the Age of Napoleon the Great. Now, it still stood strong in the modern age, a gift from Pope Peter II to one of his favorite pets. The Grandmaster of the Knights of Malta savored the fading sunlight while indulging himself with a contraband Carolinian "Lucky Jake" cigarette, each drag causing the ember to briefly radiate. Dimming rays cast an orange ethereal glow upon the scarlet Cardinal. The resonant notes of a Neapolitan classic, "'O Sole Mio" blared from a high-end teak-wood Europan phonograph console, filling the ancient stone room with beautiful, rapturous music as that beautiful, rapturous sun dipped below the horizon. If it were any other situation, it would have been a romantic scene that even Byron himself could not encapsulate in its beauty.
"This world is insane, Ramirez," Karras said in a voice soft, yet full of conviction and purpose. "It's all gone mad. Quite mad. It exhausts me. Every step of the way, as this sad little modern world plods along, we march closer to our demise as a species, it seems. Like a... like an ignorant little schoolchild who follows the man who offers sweets, the masses eagerly trail behind whatever golden calf, every false prophet, and every transient champion promising them justice, sustenance, or the allure of a delicious, delicious war against their mortal foe of the week. I was born of war, Ramirez. The Greek Civil War was my cradle. I was there in Athens, when Vasilios the Bastard shelled the city with chlorine gas. I watched from under the floorboards as my mama and sisters were violated by Parliamentarian soldiers. My father, a watchmaker, and my brother, just a boy, gave their lives defending a homeland that didn't even want them. There was not even enough left of them to bury, thanks to the wonderful new bombs the Nords had supplied the Bastard with. My mama... my mama hanged herself, Ramirez. My sister died of the Quebec Influenza a few years later. But still little Apollo persisted. Like a fungus, like a bad cough, like a rat in a cellar, I persisted. And look at me now, Ramirez! I am one of the most powerful men in Europe."
Bishop Juan Ramirez sat tied to a sturdy oak chair, industrial tape applied over his mouth. As the sun set, his tear-reddened eyes dawned with the realization that he was not getting out of this alive. For months, he had had his suspicions about Karras. For weeks, he had observed enigmatic vessels and transports shuttling to and from Ta Sannat, with various packages and crates and barrels rolling up the steep hill to "Castle Karras." A mere week prior, he had wormed his way into the Maltese magnate's favor and had begun an up-close and personal investigation. Just as he had been about to deliver a thick file full of black-and-white photographs and stolen documents, a severe blow to the head left him unconscious and now bound and gagged. Ramirez could tell he had a concussion, yet that paled in comparison to the gravity of his predicament. He knew that he had royally messed up, and there was no way out.
Karras turned away from the window and used his black-gloved right hand to pick up the evidence folder from the antique writing desk next to him. He used his left to take one last drag from the cigarette before touching the tip of the butt to the manila and lighting it up in flames. Casually, he tossed it into a nearby metal waste bin. "My 'frater in Christo,' I did not become who I am without persistence, caution, and knowing when to play my hand. Attributes you clearly and keenly lack," he remarked bluntly and without emotion. It was less anger and more of a form of near-pity. "I knew you were here to spy on me from the beginning, Ramirez. I am no fool. But I am a... businessman. Doing... business. In my city, in my port, on my island. And you dare! come here and try to ruin what I have built? Merda! If you come for me, you best not miss, my friend. And you not only missed, the bullet came all the way back around," the Cardinal said as he dramatically traced a black leather finger through the air until it came to rest on Ramirez' forehead. "And shot you in the face. I know you were sent here by Raus and his Inquisition. You might be surprised to learn that you were, in actuality, set up. Oh, yes, I'm afraid I know all about your... Milanese altar boys. And so does the Inquisition. You were sent here to die, because anyone who comes here to meddle in my business comes here to die."
Karras pivoted and faced the beautiful music console and waved a hand through the air in the manner of a conductor as his black leather dress shoes clicked on the marble floor. He was wearing a simple crimson tunic with clerical collar topped with a simply but tastefully-styled red sheepskin leather jacket he had had custom-made in Rome. About his collar hung a gold cross, an ancient relic that had been forged during the glory days of the First Holy Roman Empire, and on his head was a red silk zucchetto skullcap perched neatly on a thick head of wiry, swept-back graying hair that shone with product. As the music enveloped the room, Karras addressed Ramirez with a measured tone from over his shoulder. "Do you know this melody, Bishop Ramirez? It's a favorite of mine. I particularly enjoy the final verse. 'When night comes and the sun has gone down, my soul succumbs to my melancholy.' I sit and I think about my depression, my anguish, when the sun goes down. I think of all the evil that has been done to me, and thanks to 'men' like you, the children of this world. My hands? These gloves? They were burned when I was a child, during that damned war. The soldiers... the soldiers were trying to brand my mama with a poker. They were about to burn 'Jew' onto her back after they... well, after they gang-raped her. I stood up as the only man of my family left and little precocious Apollo grabbed that red-hot poker with his bare, childish palms. I can still remember the smell, Ramirez-- the acrid smell of my own burning flesh. My Jewish flesh. For I am a Jew, you know. Always have been, and forever will be. Had the Vatican been privy to this truth during my entrance into the clergy, I daresay they would have found my credentials far from satisfactory."
Apollo stalked towards the chair where Ramirez's pathetic form remained restrained. With deliberate steps, he placed an additional chair before the Spaniard and sat down upon it, facing his victim with calculated intent. His elegant trousers were high-cut enough to showcase a hand-embroidered silk stocking of the latest style as he crossed his right leg over his left knee. The "Maltese Rabbi's" green eyes were full of menace, their gaze reflecting the glimmer of the overhead chandelier, and reminded Ramirez of depictions of Jews in propaganda posters. The Cardinal pulled the leather gloves from his hands, revealing pale pink palms with a scarified "JEW" spelled out in Greek upon them. "These... these are my stigmata, Ramirez." The Spaniard whimpered softly as Apollo put the gloves back on with two swift tugs and drew a compact custom pistol from under his jacket. He expertly racked the slide back, the chilling sound sending the Bishop into a new rush of primal fear.
"I am not evil, Ramirez," the Cardinal declared, as though he possessed the ability to discern the Spaniard's innermost thoughts. "As I said, I am a businessman--a survivor. I survive in this world by rolling with the punches, my friend. The fundamental economic law of supply and demand. Half of the clergy, more of the bureaucrats, and still most of the Army of this Holy Empire are hopped up on American cocaine, on Europan pornography, on Carolinian cigarillos. I believe it was Voltaire, such a grand freethinker now co-opted by the Illuminists, who aptly remark that our previous incarnation was 'neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire.' I dare say that that statement is just as true today... if not fiftyfold as much. This gentile monstrosity is just another tyrannical regime in a tyrannical world. At least the Yankees are open about having a good time! The facade this nation presents, this peacocking of religious virtue... it sickens me. We are led by a bald, greasy, loud-mouthed tomb-raider who dares call himself Pope and an infertile Austrian paper-pusher who dares call himself the heir to Charlemagne."
Apollo paused momentarily, his gaze piercing, before continuing, gesturing with the pistol in his hand. "Thus, I cater to the desires of this ailing nation, for a price. You probably assume that I hoard and miser over my shekels like some goblin in a fairy tale, no? I do not. Well, I do enjoy nice clothes, cars, boats, and of course guns," he emphasized, "I don't exactly pay rent, now do I, brother? I funnel my funds to the Zion Front, and other groups like it. It's honestly quite comedic. I supply the most elite Supercatholics with their vices, and I use their money to attempt to build a Jewish state. I would, from the perspective of my people, dare say I am doing good here. Effecting positive change, and all that."
The Cardinal pushed a button and ejected the magazine and chambered round of the gun and began to fidget with it. "You might also harbor some misconception," he continued, as the very last rays of sunlight faded and nighttime finally descended upon Malta, "that I am some sort of ally of the Americans. This is also false. They are just as repugnant to me as you are. Once more, I simply provide a product for which there is demand, which happens to be customers for their detritus and contraband. How do I sleep at night? Like a blessed, undisturbed baby. My conscience is clear, Ramirez! And one day, when I have helped bring this world order to its knees, perhaps I shall step foot in sovereign Zion and witness my people at peace. I love my people, Ramirez. And I hate pretending to hate them. The Europans tolerate us to a degree, the Holy Empire murders us, the Illuminists demand we renounce our faith, and the Americans use us for economic purposes and would dispose of us in a heartbeat if we didn't factor into their plans anymore. That's why I do this, brother. I am going to help build Zion again for my people--for the fungus, for the bad coughs of this world--for them to live as our ancestors did in the old days. I am not even profiting off the death of the gentiles involved, because the fools would kill each other regardless. No, I simply play the game--this insane game--and I play it well."
Ramirez watched in horror as the magazine went back into the gun and the Cardinal racked it once more. The Mediterranean moonlight filtered through the room, its ethereal glow bathing the surroundings as if celestial fingers sought to touch and reflect upon the mirror-like chrome surface of the small Italian pistol. Ramirez prayed fervently that his end would be as painless as possible and for the shot to be quick and true.
As Karras continued his one-way conversation, he reached into the other side of his jacket and pulled out a long black metal cylinder and began to screw it onto the pistol. "I--literally--leave no fingerprints. I silence my guns. I burn my papers. I dispose of those people whom I see fit to dispose of. And I do not only fund violent terrorist groups or profit from the transgressions of the gentiles, I help my people escape from the hell Europe builds for itself. I help Jews escape to the Levant. I plant seeds for a future bountiful harvest. I plant seeds for hope to keep myself going, to keep myself from sticking the barrel of this little number in my mouth and squeezing the trigger."
His voice tinged with determination, Karras continued, "I will find the Ark, one day, friend. I will see the Temple rebuilt. I pray for the arrival of the Messiah to save us from this world of sin. I expect that moment is far closer at hand than many would realize. And until then, I dutifully play the role that Yahweh has given me. And I play it well. And I do not fuck up."
As the music reached a crescendo, Cardinal Apollo Karras, the little Jewish boy from Athens, stood from his chair, leveled the gun at Ramirez' forehead, and squeezed the trigger. The Spaniard's brains exploded out the back of his head and the corpse bucked and twitched, held in place only by the ropes. Karras sighed, removed the silencer from his gun, and casually put it and the gun back into the folds of his clerical uniform. He patted his gloved hand against the Bishop's shoulder and lowered his mouth to the dead man's ear.
"Those altar boys back in Milan send their regards, you disgusting freak."
A swift heave and the chair and corpse hit the floor with a wet thud. The Cardinal stepped around the pool of blood, skull fragments, and brain matter and made his way to the door of the chamber. Outside, two men in black clerical uniforms carrying handguns shot him a knowing look. They represented his inner circle, a clandestine brotherhood of secret Jews that formed his cadre of enforcers. The taller of the two, Giordano, told him with a hint of intrigue, "Boss, there are 'musicians' at the docks with the 'special shipment' going to the Mainland. They said you would know what it was."
A faint chuckle escaped Karras's lips, accompanied by a sly smile. "Ah, our dear friend 'Daniel Boone'," he remarked knowingly to the two men. "I shall go see our visitors. In the meantime, do pray clean up this mess, gentlemen." They simply gave him two nods and went to work cleaning up the blood and quietly disposing of the Bishops's body in the main furnace of the castle.
Interestingly, it also gives the NHRE a bit of nuance by showing us them getting rid of a pederast. And expands the WMIT universe with these glimpses into Karras' Cadre and it's dealings in Malta. It's always nice when we see what else is happening outside of America.
Kudos to you for always striving for better content. You're one of my, if not the one, favourite authors in this board.
As someone who suffers from poor self-esteem and depression, it's stuff like this comment that keep me motivated to write. Thank you very much.
My brain: Can't remember what I did at work yesterday.
Also my brain: "Don't forget about Calvin Uxbridge Thomas (CUT.) He was cool and mentioned once as the youngest son of the guy who made SPUD. Make a picture for him. Use young Otto Skorzeny as a base because he's a disgusting Natzee you can steal from. Poggers."
Jokes aside, I have long planned that, further into the 1960s and on, there will be multiple chapters that are just Cut Thomas trying to wrangle the press corps and it reads like breaking news.
Chuck and Emmanuel Oswald enjoy a picnic function
Chuck Oswald visits Rashidi Arabia (1953)
Ryan Harvey Hendrick (1965)
Sometime-Presidential Press Spokesman Cut Thomas, son of the founder of Meat Mountain Ranch (most famous for SPUD).
Also my brain: "Don't forget about Calvin Uxbridge Thomas (CUT.) He was cool and mentioned once as the youngest son of the guy who made SPUD. Make a picture for him. Use young Otto Skorzeny as a base because he's a disgusting Natzee you can steal from. Poggers."
Jokes aside, I have long planned that, further into the 1960s and on, there will be multiple chapters that are just Cut Thomas trying to wrangle the press corps and it reads like breaking news.
Chuck and Emmanuel Oswald enjoy a picnic function
Chuck Oswald visits Rashidi Arabia (1953)
Ryan Harvey Hendrick (1965)
Sometime-Presidential Press Spokesman Cut Thomas, son of the founder of Meat Mountain Ranch (most famous for SPUD).
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Oswald may a genocidal pervert, but he has a really good faschion sense.
Also NGL, I love Karras' personality. Dude knows the NUSA is full of shit, but he is using its influence to protect its own people. Of course, the alliance between Oswald and the Arabs will make the creation of Israel far more difficoult ITTL.
Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if at one point Karras abbandones the NUSA in favor of another state willing to support the creation of Israel.
Europa-Karras Europan-Jewish supremacist Israel vs NUSA-Rashidi Arab-Israeli Fascist state. God, what a madness it could be.
You're welcome!!
Okay, that looks very plausible as an older Heydrich. The other pics are pretty good with the faces too. This time I can't complain about the AI's accuracy.
Ryan Harvey Hendrick (1965)
One of the many things I love the most about WMIT is how every name is connected to something else and has a purpose. No one is a one time random name that never comes up again. Every character or place that is mentioned is going to appear at least twice, has it's own story, is connected with each other and has a role to fullfill within the bigger narrative of WMIT. And a lot of the time is in ways that we don't expect.
It makes WMIT feel very natural and organic, very real despite how crazy it gets. You see all these little things unfolding in the background and you believe that all this could happen, because everything connects.
He kind of looks like Goebbels, at least to me. Maybe it's the pose.
Sometime-Presidential Press Spokesman Cut Thomas, son of the founder of Meat Mountain Ranch (most famous for SPUD).
My thoughts exactly. Everything builds off of what came before in an organic way. As bizarre as everything is, it comes together in a way that makes sense.
To be fair, the Rashidis were the most liberal faction to ever have appreciable power as far as I can tell; so if they're anything like their OTL counterparts, they actually might be amenable to the creation of Israel if it's handled properly.
I believe it’s canonically a combination of pig brains and shredded potatoes. So a lot of rendered bacon fat and thinly cut potatoes cooked until the fat as has evaporated completely. Spud in my mind is an extremely salty tatty scone or a very bad hash brown.
Coming in the next chapter:
This is based, although in the Thomas Foods chapter in Vol II, there are several flavor variants they also produced after the pork brains and potatoes took off. Including one full of Jacksonland Reaper called "Hell's Bells." IFIRK. I think readers IRL have tried to make only the base original recipe though. Using normal pork instead of brains because no one wants to be fully i m m e r s e d.
This is based, although in the Thomas Foods chapter in Vol II, there are several flavor variants they also produced after the pork brains and potatoes took off. Including one full of Jacksonland Reaper called "Hell's Bells." IFIRK. I think readers IRL have tried to make only the base original recipe though. Using normal pork instead of brains because no one wants to be fully i m m e r s e d.
Crazymachines
Banned
I mean I would have used pork brains if I had any but it's not exactly easy to come by in my fridge
I also want to take time to say that Sweeney Ericson, the long-teased "MadnessManson" first mentioned in a "flash forward" chapter in Vol II, is alive and well already at this point. He's 15 in the timeline rn. The future leader of Necromancers for Jesus is already getting handy with a guitar and a knife at Meat Mountain Ranch as the Loomies and SuperHitler (TM) fight it out in an anthraxy Europe. What a series of events. Truly some of the events of all time.
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Considering how everything these days is getting a cookbook, I'll be both fearful and intrigued when WMIT gets its own.
(Though I imagine it would probably be like the Fallout cookbook and have a some suggestions for alternative ingrediant that are less....questionable)
He looks ready to start a weird rant in latin, while he is hiding in a bunkerComing in the next chapter:
This is based, although in the Thomas Foods chapter in Vol II, there are several flavor variants they also produced after the pork brains and potatoes took off. Including one full of Jacksonland Reaper called "Hell's Bells." IFIRK. I think readers IRL have tried to make only the base original recipe though. Using normal pork instead of brains because no one wants to be fully i m m e r s e d.
PREFACE TO SLAUGHTER '54: THE BIRTH OF UNITED GERMANY AND THE FALL OF BOHEMIA
I asked ai to improve my paragraph spacing. My enormous run-on paragraphs are probably my greatest flaw, writing-wise. 💀 Hopefully the improvement is noticeable from here on out! I will never stop trying to improve, and hopefully I learn from how it breaks the paragraphs to the point I won't even need it.
This chapter also has some of the most darkly humorous bits in a good while, especially the Bohemian Royal Family...
PREFACE TO SLAUGHTER '54:
THE BIRTH OF UNITED GERMANY AND THE FALL OF BOHEMIA
Equal Citizen Vadim Maximovich reacts to the New Holy Roman Empire's invasion of Bohemia
This chapter also has some of the most darkly humorous bits in a good while, especially the Bohemian Royal Family...
PREFACE TO SLAUGHTER '54:
THE BIRTH OF UNITED GERMANY AND THE FALL OF BOHEMIA
Equal Citizen Vadim Maximovich reacts to the New Holy Roman Empire's invasion of Bohemia
Historians face challenges in determining the official start date of the conflict commonly referred to as the "War of '54." On May 20, Illuminist armies from East Germania and Poland crossed the borders of West Germania and the Berlin Free State. However, this incursion was not formally declared as an act of war. Rather, it was presented as an "international peacekeeping operation" orchestrated by the Areopagus to "prevent a hedonistic descent into chaos" following the detonation of the "Massive Area Denial Device" in Britannia by the Worm Cult.
The encroachment of the Illuminist forces on West Germania presented a punishingly challenging situation for the military and the Reich's emergency dictator, General Konrad Goethe. While a sense of duty motivated many West Germanian soldiers to stick it out and take up arms against the advancing Loomie hordes, the loyalty of the military was so up-in-the-air it might as well have been flying a plane. Unfortunately, two-thirds of the military had chosen to desert the cause, leaving Goethe, this tragic hero, with a significantly reduced force that could not realistically pose much of a threat. Compounding the situation, Goethe had to divide his already diminished forces to address the growing anthrax refugee crisis in the western regions and simultaneously hold off the advancing Illuminists in the east.
The Illuminists exploited the vulnerabilities in West Germania, promising assistance in the form of food, clothing, and shelter to Dutch, Britannic, and Danish refugees fleeing the infected coastal areas. Illuminist militias infiltrated the refugee camps, unleashing a campaign of armed combat, looting, rape, and arson. This strategy proved effective in eroding the morale of the remaining West Germanian forces. Amidst this bleak backdrop, there were still instances of bravery and heroism among those who remained loyal to the cause and stood the ground against the Illuminist tide. However, the overwhelming forces of the Illuminists, combined with the horrendous amount of internal strife and desertion, created a hopeless situation for the embattled forces. The Illuminists were left to effectively cake-walk their way to victory as they fought through waves of young boys and old men armed with everything from American-made Col. Pierce rifles to Great World War relic bolt actions to wood axes and pitchforks.
By mid-June, West Germania and the entirety of Berlin had fallen to the Illuminist Bloc. In a surprising moment, some of the most violent gangs and militias who supported them, such as the Dutch "Refugee Roughnecks" and the "Britannic Illumino-Beutelist Front" were arrested and sent to prison camps for their barbarism. While incidents of looting and violence occurred at the hands of the Owl Army, commanders tried to maintain a decent public image to further the cause elsewhere.
West Germanian soldiers loyal to Goethe pose for the camera. They are all under 18. 1954.
An Illuminist People's Corps of West Germanians parade through Berlin with captured West Germanian gear
Polish Illuminist troops stand next to an eagle statue in downtown Hamburg, 1954
On June 15, an extremely young Polish Supreme Commander, General Powód Solarz, established his headquarters within the former Berlin Free State Council Chamber, which had been known as the Tiergarten Opera House upon its construction in 1845. In a historic moment, Solarz had his men bring the captured General Goethe to his table, resulting in the signing of a paper that marked the birth of the United Illuminist People's Republic of Germany. After a half-century of division, the former empire was whole again.
As part of the aftermath, Goethe and the surviving administrative officials and military officers who did not pledge allegiance to the new state or embrace Illuminism were presented with an opportunity for either "voluntary" exile to Africa or an involuntary train ride to a labor camp. Given the ecological crisis unfolding in their Germanic ally Mittelafrika thanks to the Congo Sea, many of them opted instead to relocate to the Carolinian colonies further south. General Goethe himself passed away in 1960 due to liver failure in the city of Gu'rund'ele, commonly known as "The Grundle," located in Jacksonland.
June 1 marked a significant calendar day leading to the War of '54, as the forces of the New Holy Roman Empire launched a full-scale invasion of the neutral Kingdom of Bohemia. Within a remarkably short span of two weeks, the entire country fell to the Neo-Crusaders, leading to the dissolution of the Bohemian Royal Army. Despite the Bohemian forces being vastly outnumbered and outmatched, underground movements emerged to continue the resistance effort. Engaging in acts of sabotage, guerilla warfare, and disruption of supply lines, these resistance fighters continued to wreak havoc on NHRE forces. The Free Czech Army and the New Hussites, in particular, ensured that the occupation of Bohemia would be far from a straightforward victory for the NHRE, serving as a constant reminder of the indomitable spirit of the Bohemian people. Thus, while the NHRE may have achieved a swift military victory in occupying the industrious and resource-rich Bohemia, the resilience of the underground movements, as well as huge amounts of arms sent to Illuminist columns by the Areopagus, ensured that the occupation would become a nightmare. The resistance tied down resources, disrupted NHRE operations, assassinated officers, and kept alive the hope of eventual liberation among the Bohemian people.
Following the NHRE's occupation of Bohemia, Eduard, its Protestant King, found himself under house arrest. He was treated fairly, at least initially, reflecting the respect accorded to his royal status. Facing such a radically anti-monarchist enemy to the north, Emperor Adolf ordered Eduard to be handled gently as a fellow monarch, even a Protestant one. However, it was soon discovered that Eduard had been involved in encouraging armed resistance and attempting to reclaim his throne, which led to a... shift in his circumstances.
As part of the aftermath, Goethe and the surviving administrative officials and military officers who did not pledge allegiance to the new state or embrace Illuminism were presented with an opportunity for either "voluntary" exile to Africa or an involuntary train ride to a labor camp. Given the ecological crisis unfolding in their Germanic ally Mittelafrika thanks to the Congo Sea, many of them opted instead to relocate to the Carolinian colonies further south. General Goethe himself passed away in 1960 due to liver failure in the city of Gu'rund'ele, commonly known as "The Grundle," located in Jacksonland.
June 1 marked a significant calendar day leading to the War of '54, as the forces of the New Holy Roman Empire launched a full-scale invasion of the neutral Kingdom of Bohemia. Within a remarkably short span of two weeks, the entire country fell to the Neo-Crusaders, leading to the dissolution of the Bohemian Royal Army. Despite the Bohemian forces being vastly outnumbered and outmatched, underground movements emerged to continue the resistance effort. Engaging in acts of sabotage, guerilla warfare, and disruption of supply lines, these resistance fighters continued to wreak havoc on NHRE forces. The Free Czech Army and the New Hussites, in particular, ensured that the occupation of Bohemia would be far from a straightforward victory for the NHRE, serving as a constant reminder of the indomitable spirit of the Bohemian people. Thus, while the NHRE may have achieved a swift military victory in occupying the industrious and resource-rich Bohemia, the resilience of the underground movements, as well as huge amounts of arms sent to Illuminist columns by the Areopagus, ensured that the occupation would become a nightmare. The resistance tied down resources, disrupted NHRE operations, assassinated officers, and kept alive the hope of eventual liberation among the Bohemian people.
Following the NHRE's occupation of Bohemia, Eduard, its Protestant King, found himself under house arrest. He was treated fairly, at least initially, reflecting the respect accorded to his royal status. Facing such a radically anti-monarchist enemy to the north, Emperor Adolf ordered Eduard to be handled gently as a fellow monarch, even a Protestant one. However, it was soon discovered that Eduard had been involved in encouraging armed resistance and attempting to reclaim his throne, which led to a... shift in his circumstances.
Bohemian revolutionaries equipped with Illuminist weaponry strike a pose, 1954
Bohemian Royal Army troopers stand guard in Prague shortly before the NHRE assault, 1954
King Eduard of Bohemia
Upon his arrival in New York City following his exile, Eduard encountered a media frenzy. Mobs of rabid reporters, hungry and frothing for information, surrounded the deposed king, bombarding him with questions and lighting up the docks with flashing camera bulbs. The tumultuous scene demonstrated the intense interest of the Yankee public and the media in the events surrounding the far-off war and the figure of the dethroned monarch himself. A noble Protestant king of a peaceful nation, the last of his line, facing enemies in both Loomies and Superpapists was simply too easy to sell papers with. The glare of the media spotlight thrust him into a new realm, where his presence and his experiences became a subject of fascination and scrutiny of a curious American public.
"My family has endured immense suffering in this modern century. If we are to attribute blame for the cause of the Great World War so many years ago to the Hohenzollern-Wettin dynasty, we paid the price when our crowns were lost in Germania, followed by the loss of Finland. And now, we have lost our final home to a nation with whom we had sought cordiality, despite clear indications that this mad Grail Pope and his infertile Emperor harbored malevolent plans against us. Since the fall of Prague, I question daily whether I should have met my end in the Palace, with a gun in my hand, like a warrior-king. This shame will haunt me forever.
"I express my gratitude to President Oswald, my generous sponsor, for overseeing my safe passage to this country. Yet, with this final escape, I fear that I have failed my people and disgraced my ancestors. The only solace amidst my sorrow is knowing that my children will be safe here in New York City. We arrive not as monarchs and princes, but as humble and thankful guests."
- King Eduard in his first interview with an American reporter, Sammy Johnson of the Philadelphia Times
"I express my gratitude to President Oswald, my generous sponsor, for overseeing my safe passage to this country. Yet, with this final escape, I fear that I have failed my people and disgraced my ancestors. The only solace amidst my sorrow is knowing that my children will be safe here in New York City. We arrive not as monarchs and princes, but as humble and thankful guests."
- King Eduard in his first interview with an American reporter, Sammy Johnson of the Philadelphia Times
After adjusting to life as a private citizen, the former Bohemian monarch chose to officially change his name to "Edward Hohenzollern." He settled into a grand Custerian mansion located in the Hudson Yards district. Previously owned by magnate Charles Goodyear and purchased from one of his descendants, the mansion boasted twenty bedrooms, offering a stately, luxurious residence for a forcefully retired king.
In 1970, two years after Edward's death from stomach cancer, his youngest son, Prince Rudolf Hohenzollern (b. 1944), achieved a remarkable feat by becoming the youngest-ever Mayor of New York City. Rudolf married Esther Fine, the Jewish-American heiress of It's Fine Real Estate. Known for his slight Germano-Czech accent, affection for cats, and passion for fine art, "Rudy" became a notable figure in the art world as well as the political one. In 1976, he cut the ribbon for the Hohenzollern Art Museum at Union Square, which housed his own masterpieces, personal collection, and even the former Crown Jewels of Bohemia, which he acquired from his eldest brother for an undisclosed sum. Rudy's unique artistic style, known as "Bohemian Modern," was a popular trend during the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, becoming one of the defining styles of the so-called Pinnacle Future.
In 1970, two years after Edward's death from stomach cancer, his youngest son, Prince Rudolf Hohenzollern (b. 1944), achieved a remarkable feat by becoming the youngest-ever Mayor of New York City. Rudolf married Esther Fine, the Jewish-American heiress of It's Fine Real Estate. Known for his slight Germano-Czech accent, affection for cats, and passion for fine art, "Rudy" became a notable figure in the art world as well as the political one. In 1976, he cut the ribbon for the Hohenzollern Art Museum at Union Square, which housed his own masterpieces, personal collection, and even the former Crown Jewels of Bohemia, which he acquired from his eldest brother for an undisclosed sum. Rudy's unique artistic style, known as "Bohemian Modern," was a popular trend during the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s, becoming one of the defining styles of the so-called Pinnacle Future.
NYC Mayor Rudy Hohenzollern speaking before a city council meeting, 1973
Rudy's son Oswald Hohenzollern and daughter Ophelia Hohenzollern would become the founders of the music group "The Black Eagles," known for hits such as "Prussian Kinda Man," "Maybe Won't You Light My Pyre," and "New Zion Blues Boy," as well as their infamous involvement with Sweeney Ericson, the depraved failed musician and eventual leader of the "Necromancers for Jesus" cult. Ericson would author their runaway hit, "Spirit in the Sky," for which he would be uncredited.
Meanwhile, Oswald and Ophelia's uncle Simon Hohenzollern (b. 1942), the middle child of the Bohemian Royal Family, pursued a successful legal career and eventually became the Justiciar for the Borough of Hudson Yards. He would become a popular figure in the local MDP scene, as well as a good friend of the Nixon family. His daughter, Alice, would briefly date Dick Nixon's youngest son, Chucky, in the 1970s.
Simon Hohenzollern seen speaking in court, 1969
The eldest brother, Crown Prince Edward "Eddy" Hohenzollern (b. 1940), took a sadly different path from Rudy and Simon. He moved to the North Shore Development Area, formerly known as Dutch Guiana, where he purchased a car dealership and a modern trailer park in Jonestown. Unlike his brothers, Eddy never officially converted to American Fundamentalist Christianity. Sadly, he battled alcoholism and drug abuse throughout his life, which led to three divorces, intense depression, and several arrests. Eddy's misery came to a tragic end in 1993 when he was declared dead, age 53, at Midas Goldstein Memorial Hospital in Jonestown. The cause of his death was attributed to injuries sustained in a wreck while driving under the influence. He had lost control of the wheel of his Rollarite Cockfighter and had careened into the front of a diner, injuring five. The last eagle of House Hohenzollern came to an end in a flurry of beer cans, car parts, bricks, drywall, and fried chicken.
Former Crown Prince of Bohemia Edward "Eddy" Hohenzollern, Jr., 1968
- WAR DECLARED -
Two weeks after the New Holy Roman Empire invaded Bohemia, a critical moment unfolded as the Areopagus in Warsaw convened to address the escalating situation. Led by the esteemed author and scholar Waldemar Wawro, who continued to serve as the Grandmaster, the Areopagus was the supreme council of the Illuminist Bloc. The neutrality of Bohemia had played a vital role in maintaining a delicate peace between the Illuminist Bloc and the Supercatholics. However, the NHRE's invasion shattered this fragile balance.
On June 2, the Areopagus voted to expel the NHRE embassies in Warsaw and Moscow, signifying a rupture in diplomatic relations. Other members of the Bloc followed suit in the subsequent days, severing ties with the NHRE and expelling the Imperial diplomats and ministers. As tensions escalated, the gravity of the situation demanded a unified response from the Illuminist Bloc. After extensive deliberations, on June 15, the Areopagus reached a crucial agreement: war was deemed the only viable option to confront the Supercatholic threat once and for all.
On June 2, the Areopagus voted to expel the NHRE embassies in Warsaw and Moscow, signifying a rupture in diplomatic relations. Other members of the Bloc followed suit in the subsequent days, severing ties with the NHRE and expelling the Imperial diplomats and ministers. As tensions escalated, the gravity of the situation demanded a unified response from the Illuminist Bloc. After extensive deliberations, on June 15, the Areopagus reached a crucial agreement: war was deemed the only viable option to confront the Supercatholic threat once and for all.
"Behold, the enlightened peoples of the Free World! Cast your gaze upon the despicable aggression perpetrated by Rome and Vienna, and let your disgust and anger fuel the fire within! While our righteous forces have bestowed upon a reunified Germany the gifts of peace and stability, the blathering Pope and his ring-kissing Kaiser have dared to violate and defile neutral Bohemia. The oppressed masses of Bohemia cry out for liberation, and their plea shall not fall upon deaf ears! The brave Bohemian people beseech us to export our Glorious Revolution to their land, and we shall answer their call without hesitation! With resolute determination, we decree and command our esteemed member-states to unleash the wrath of our peoples, industry, and weapons of war upon the New Holy Roman Empire. Together, we shall wield the sword of liberation, and plant our Minervan Banners from the Baltic to the Adriatic. With one voice, one will, we will defeat the religiosity and warmongering of the New Holy Roman Empire's religious and imperialist elite and continue to bring the light of reason and freedom to Europe and the world. Rome shall fall again not to barbarians, but to liberation! Urah! Urah! Urah!"
- Grandmaster Waldemar Wawro
- Grandmaster Waldemar Wawro
While ideas of utilizing atomic weaponry were thrown about the Loomie war councils, it was decided that, if they wished to maintain the public image as a heroic, liberating force, that nuclear weapons should not be used. In addition, there were many closeted revolutionaries all across the NHRE, in every major city, so the use of nukes would only make it harder to create cohesive governments after their "inevitable victory." Russian Chief Citizen Vadim Maximovich, in particular, was the most iron-willed on the matter.
"Slinging atomic bombs at an enemy that has them not will reduce us to something akin to the American dogs. And I would rather us fight a land war for as long as it takes than win in a day by irradiating South-Eastern Europe for a lifetime. The enlightened way dictates that our atomic arsenal should only be a defensive and preventative option to deal with Oswald or Napoleon, not an answer to every problem which we encounter. It is not a weapon to be wielded thoughtlessly, nor a solution to every problem that may cross our path. Our enlightened wisdom teaches us that true strength lies not in the blind use of destructive force, but from the indomitable spirit and unwavering resolve of our collective will. The right eye chooses ultraviolence, the left chooses ultrachaos, but the third eye... the third eye gazes through the lens of ultrareason."
-Equal Citizen Vadim Maximovich addressing the Illuminist Russian People's Council
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