The sound of footsteps cnged softly on the stone pavement. A significant male character, wearing a clean bck suit, a red scarf to match the two colours, and ending it with a sharp pair of brown leather shoes, was seen walking in between an escort of secret service agents, who also wore bck suits, with the exception of the bck gsses and shoes. The group was marching down the pathway towards a motorcade of cars, which stood on the other side of the great iron gate.

  Upon reaching the gate, the group was met with another set of agents who were stationed for their arrival. The motorcade in question consisted of front and rear dark Humvees and two identical limousines.

  Standing next to each side of the limousines, two agents opened the doors on their respective sides. The agent on his side beamed as he opened the door for the President. Following the agent's sign, Hart heads towards the door. Simultaneously, the group escorting him moved out and surrounded the two limousines.

  Once he entered the compartment of the car, which had soft bck leather seats with the walls covered in a bck texture, the group outside followed into their own vehicles.

  "Is this really necessary?" Hart asked.

  Entering the same compartment, Nephilia, sitting on the right, looked at him.

  "For the situation, it is most appropriate."

  "I know that I'm titled 'president,' but I feel as if this is a bit of an overkill."

  "Nonsense! I believe this is cking the required forces. And besides, I only let this happen because of your greatness."

  "I only needed a single car."

  "Well... that can't be helped, can it now?" Nephilia smirked slyly.

  Hart sighed and looked away to the window on the left. The car rumbled and roared, which signalled that they were moving.

  "Oh wait!" Nephilia suddenly jumped and held Hart's hand. "Before the matter comes as an unnecessary surprise, I need to address it."

  "Address what?"

  "This." The word was clearly heard by Hart. It came from Nephilia, that was for sure. However, the only difference from the previous dialogues was that she didn't move her mouth this time. The driver couldn't have possibly said it, because the receiving direction was closely next to him. Weird. 'Closely next to him' isn't the right way to put it. He heard it literally inside his head, like a thought.

  "Can you hear me, sir?" Again, her voice rang inside his head, yet she didn't move her mouth for a second.

  Out of confusion, Hart asked. "Nephilia, did you say something?"

  "Indeed, I did."

  "Okay, then why isn't your mouth moving?"

  "Telepathy, sir. We have a special connection that allows us to communicate mentally." Nephilia expined. She then lifted his right hand gently into the air with her palm. "However, there is one condition to do so. That is—"

  Without a warning, she pulled her hand away, causing an abrupt cut in her words, "To be in physical contact with one another."

  There was no word to describe what Hart felt about this. Absolute amazement might fit, but only if he had received it with positive energy—which he hadn't, as he couldn't truly believe that telepathy existed. The only right course of action for now was to measly accept reality before returning to the view outside.

  It's early morning with the sun already out and the blue sky in full view. The roadside trees are well positioned in an equilibrium. The road itself is smooth because of the asphalt. Roadside tree lines fshed on and off as they passed by each tree, and everytime they did, a green meadow was visible behind the branches

  Time passed, and the scenery changed from the countryside to the city. Instead of tall trees, Hart saw tall buildings. Rather than the grass, there was hard pavement on the city floor. The pce had the distinct style of Eastern Europe, with most buildings having brick-red rooftops.

  On one occasion, he got a glimpse of several skyscrapers in the distance, those that could not be any shorter than a whole span of a ship. One in particur was brutal. The tip of it was barely above the clouds, mightier than any other building on the horizon, and it stood at the city centre. A structure as tall as that in a town that mostly consisted of 2- to 4-story buildings was out of the ordinary.

  They reached a rge open square. The road cut between a beautiful pebbled road that spanned across the entire field. Gothic structures towering the ground covered the world with their shadowy bnkets, standing tall amongst the smaller structures. Gardens consisting of stylised bushes and bright flowers hugged the walls of their building, shining light on colours other than the bnd industrial brown and grey. Behind the tree cover, under the shining sun, long concrete lines, accompanied by evenly corresponding support beams, guided an endless number of metro trains. As each train passed through, the nostalgic clicking sound of the railway and the monstrous roar of its metallic body simmered in the mind.

  The car turned right on a small roundabout, tilting enough for Hart to witness the white pilr that stood in the middle—the monument, if he remembers correctly. Its appearance is comparable to the Washington Monument, which was built to pay respects to a man who achieved great feats, George Washington. The one Hart was looking at symbolised a different meaning—the tragedy he and the rest of Earth went through—human nature. The destruction that humans are capable of surpassed the very natural order that brought them to life. Wars became more bloodthirsty than what they were thousands of years ago, and the edge of chaos always loomed closer to the everyday people with each conflict. Despite that, people still find the light that has been passed on for millennials. Three lines were engraved on the monument to remind anyone who reads it why life still continues:

  In light, the darkness is brighter

  In darkness, the light is brighter

  One must open their eyes to see it

  Before turning away, Hart caught sight of a giant megalith of a building as the vehicle shut his view temporarily. Being curious, he peeked through the front window of the limousine and saw a rge structure that covered most of the window itself. It was the structure he saw before. Almost like a skyscraper, it touched the sky with its beaming high tip. The architecture of the building was centred around a mix of Gothic and Stalinist style. A rge centre crown that becomes narrower and narrower after each 30 or so floors, creating a stair-like tower. The base was as rge as 2 football fields and had 7 smaller crowns on each side. By estimations, it might be half a kilometre tall, but that's too tall for its purpose, as it is the single most important building in the country. The House of Eight.

  A megalith of a structure, unlike anything that existed in real life. The whole thing was covered by yers of bricks, concrete, and paint. Most buildings of its size would be either luxury hotels or business centres; however, the primary role was to act as the central government centre of the entire state. Overseeing all 8 cities of the Nomural Republic, each tower represented the city that it was pointing towards. The outer 7 towers symbolised the 7 cities around this city, while the central tower, the rgest, was clearly about the capital, Montuk. Those who work here are either experts of their field or subordinates of the Ministers. Even though the size may seem overdone for its purpose, normal workers and even the more higher-ranking officials are only barely able to access half of the building.

  Above a given floor lie powerful relics and magic items. Due to their unique and otherworldly properties, they must be kept under the protection of those who are deemed the most trustworthy of them all. Behind several yers of security and protection, the whole upper floor can be considered as one rge vault. There are several countermeasures in pce at these storage facilities, too dangerous for a clueless person to venture around in. So it is no surprise how valuable the House of Eight is, considering both the material and personnel value it contains.

  "What are we doing here, Nephilia?" Hart asked as he leaned at the window beside him.

  "I was notified by a messenger while you, sir, were unconscious that the group called the 'Ministers' is in urgent need of an assembly here. Though there wasn't much detail, the time was set at 9 o'clock in the morning in the House of Eight."

  "The 'Ministers'?" It didn't immediately ring a bell in Hart's head, but after Nephilia mentioned the House of Eight, their callers were as clear as day to him. "Ah. So they're also here?"

  "Hmm? Did you say something, sir?"

  "Oh! It's nothing. So was there anything else that the messenger mentioned as he was delivering the information?"

  "Not at all."

  "Very well."

  The car continued its straight path, bringing the building closer and closer to the window, revealing the true extent of its massiveness. Aside from the giant tower, the road they followed went under a modest gate. 6 pilrs, a rge ft base on top, and a symbol above it all. Wide brick pilrs spaced well in between for vehicles to pass through it. There were 5 rectangur arches to go through; only 1 in the middle was wide enough for a rge truck to pass through. Each wall was decorated with stone engravings of birds, horses, and flowers that moulded their way on every pilr. On top was an octagram, painted bright yellow. 8 sides rete to the number of towers the House of Eight has, which basically represents all of the 8 cities the nation has.

  The inside of the car was shortly engulfed in a sheet of shadow before light returned. On the other side of the gate, the modern, bustling environment turned quiet and orderly. It felt like the Pariser Ptz in Berlin but without the crowd of people. Long rows of buildings, acting as miniature castle walls, surrounded the area. The rexed and free-moving faces of civilians were now repced with men and women in professional suits, all as stiff as statues. Several small groups of guards in long grey trench coats marched up and down, and as the car passed by, each guard simultaneously turned to salute before returning to their original path.

  Everyone's body edged a bit to the left as the car gradually turned right. One final roundabout, this one being rger and centred around a rge grassy field. Columns of walls and windows flew past the window on Hart's left, creating a mesh of blurs, ceasing before what looked like a rge set of stairs. Nephilia turned to Hart with a joyful and positive expression:

  "Sir, welcome to the capitol."

  Before he could say anything, the door next to Hart opened. The cool air outside blew inside the cabin, brushing some strands of hair away from his face. A flight staircase was there, and it led up to two rge metal doors. The man that opened the door was standing patiently outside, holding it for Hart. Nephilia was behind the car before him and had already made her way to the other side of the door. There was no point in holding up everyone, so, finally, Rhinheart pced his feet on the hard asphalt.

  Through the next 2 hours, Hart was dragged along to visit almost every base floor of the building. The lobby on the first floor had a magnificent tan hue, a rge gss chandelier above the reception table, a marble chess floor that reflected the stylised roof, and various paintings that hung on the walls. The second floor, used as the main event hall, was a rge banquet hall, currently empty, with a rge stage on the far corner. The third floor was full of office spaces and hallways after another. The fourth, an extension of the third floor, is more for members of higher ranks.

  Though the interior tour was interesting and exciting on some levels, Hart was getting impatient with his time. Despite wanting to let Hart get used to the entire building, he already knows about every inch of the whole thing because he was the one who made it.

  Hart's request before rebirth was simple. To bring a game to life, specifically the country he built, the Nomural Republic.

  * * *

  It was a game that he used to py before the eventual death that brought him here. Though being a gamer wasn't the style he was focused on, the reality was that it was somewhat an old game that he used to py when he was way younger, before he got into the corporate world. Politismós.

  A nation-building game focused on creating your own country to fight other pyers in a fantasy mediaeval-era setting. Each pyer starts off with a custom character and strives to gain the material, strength, and ability to create their own nation from scratch. Large numbers of pyers come together in the game to either casually py, battle others, trade resources, create events, hang out, and so much more. An MMORPG, to be exact.

  Compared to the normal CMS (construction and management simution) games, where the pyer can only be as close as the game allows them from an overtop view of their screens, the pyer is an individual entity that can interact with each and every building, as well as the other pyers or NPCs. This allows anyone to truly immerse themselves inside the world they may build and to see what others might as well.

  The whole game on its own is freely customisable. From colours to shapes, regardless if it is a character design or the architecture of a house, not one bit is spared from the pyer's imagination. That's how the city, as well as the country, was created. With every fabric and brick inside it, everything about the Nomural Republic was built 'by hand.'.

  Due to the immense freedom the game had, it was essentially not possible for a pyer to have the same items and creations elsewhere in the game, unless it was on purpose or coincidental. That is why every pyer you met in-game was unique, even the NPCs.

  With these limitless rules, in the long run, when the game set the boundaries for early pyers, the game ter turned into something of its own separate life. Pyers in the ter years of its release spanned by the millions, and NPCs probably by the billions, but that even included the overall creativity of pyers. Special servers with set rules and regutions were created so certain enthusiasts of the game can really work their magic. Despite being set in mediaeval times, some found ways to up the scale and turn it to that of modern-day scenery. The regur swords and shields followed the change and transformed into guns and bullets. Yes, it did mean that they were more chaotic than average servers. However, these servers are where Hart mostly spent his time in the game.

  For the Nomural Republic, creating a whole country, each city with its own unique style, and every NPC having their own personality was no easy task, but after many gruesome hours, all of them worked out. The Nomural Republic wasn't the strongest in the server, but it was one of the more formidable ones among the many nations. It is comprised of a total of 8 cities: Montuk, Bolbus, Lahar, Sorum, Avqud, Danburg, Tolpo, and Muzakh. The capital being Montuk is where Hart is, the city that is right in the middle of all the other 7 cities, which are in a circur shape. Protected by a military hailed as one of the top 10 among thousands of others in the server, the Republic is a force to be reckoned with. Behind the military are the 10 million citizens of the country. For NPCs, they are important, being the fragile life force of the state, because every life cannot be resurrected like how pyers 'respawn'. Just as real-life countries may operate, the Republic has its own institutions, government bodies, economy, and services that are at the disposal of all who are welcome.

  * * *

  Standing where he was, Hart observed the giant lobby he was in. He sent off Nephilia to buy some food from the coffee shop nearby, leaving him a moment to be alone. Distant cnging of shoes and ringing chimes from telephones echoed through the whole hall. Reception was directing people and taking calls while passersby, mostly wearing suits, checked their watches as time passed by. Elevators in the far right corner dinged when they reached the ground floor, followed by a sprawl of people entering and leaving the small compartment. A clerk rushed past Hart, barely stopping herself from tripping as she stopped to turn around to greet him. She was carrying a rge pile of papers on her arms, obviously in an exhausted state from the look of the uncombed bush of hair and the sweaty forehead that drizzled down with every step.

  The pce was busy, probably because it was early in the morning on a workday. The only person who appeared free of duty was Hart, who was staring at the end of the lobby at the massive wall that hung the rge portrait of him sitting modestly on a chair. Hands pced above one another on top of his p and body arched slightly to the side, the picture captured his upper half to put more focus on the main body.

  Something was missing, though. There was an empty wall on the right, next to Hart's picture, rge enough for another painting like his. The faint, worn-out brown edges of a rectangle were there; however, the picture was nowhere to be seen.

  Hart sighed. A heavy longing feeling had been stuck with him for quite some time. Not until now did he realise what that feeling was about.

  "Is there something of a bother to you, sir?" A female voice rang next to his ear, yet it wasn't Nephilia's.

  Turning around, Hart saw a young woman with silver hair who wore a fine matching white suit that had a small tri-circle pin on her pel. Her appearance on its own was a stark contrast to the environment, which was frankly quite gloomy in atmosphere. It was no stranger. No, far from it. Hart knew from the first gnce that it was Helina, Minister of Internal Affairs. Despite her appearance, she's the woman who is responsible for acting as the iron fist of the government.

  "Are you perhaps wondering about your portrait, sir? We could remake it if you don't like it." Helina said with a smile.

  "Oh, Minister of Internal Affairs! It's very nice to see you so early for the meeting." Hart said.

  "Please, the pleasure is all mine. To see your greatness is more than a blessing." Helina replied, switching back to the portrait. "So, what is it?"

  "Where is she?" Hart questioned Helina as he pointed at the empty space.

  "Don't you remember, sir? You ordered the removal of Madame Luci's picture to a separate pce."

  "Ah... yes, I forgot. Time flies, I guess." Once more, there was a long sigh. No one gave away another bit of sound. People nearby weren't at the very least aware of the two, and those few who did notice their superiors bowed as they passed by. The emptiness that filled the view shed a tear in Hart's eyes. From the very beginning, this country, the Nomural Republic, was never the work of one person. What was once a simple game that two people used to py in their free time transformed into a symbol of their long union. A memoir of some kind. To commemorate their efforts, two rge portraits of the founding creators were hung in the House of Eight. Hart, as Rhineheart as his gamertag, and Luci, as DragonLover19. But now, Hart and Helina can see that one half of it is missing.

  They moved away from the portrait and fully faced each other, finally taking the time to take notice of each other's full appearance. Helina was tall, probably just a few centimetres shorter than Hart. From memory, Hart recalled that she was an Elemental, those creatures that have the ability to conceive materials to their will. Nephilia was a special variant, one that could manipute almost all elements known to mankind. She is one of Luci's creations.

  "I offer you once more my sincere condolences for your loss, sir. She was truly a magnificent woman who had, without a doubt, a great mind that others could not match." Helina conveyed her sadness as she lowered her head in respect to the missing portrait.

  "Thank you. Yes, she was one of a kind." Hart replied, almost shedding a tear before he stopped himself since he was still in a public area.

  From nearby, a third voice entered the conversation, more joyful than the others, "Harro harro!" It was Nephilia for sure.

  Carrying a cup holder with two drinks in one hand and a pstic bag with a few clumps of paper wrappings that smelt good as it came closer, Nephilia returned from her venture to the coffee shop. "Geez, that pce was wonderful! Clean, orderly, and overall completely fshy in design. Quite a wonder, indeed! –You called it chocote, right? Yeah, the steaming smell of sweet sugar and those rows of creamy cakes were absolutely wondrous. But don't worry, I controlled myself and got what you asked for, sir, a fresh cup of hot mocha, a cup of hot chocote, and these two... 'jeez-sand-weech.'."

  "It's a cheese sandwich. And thank you very much. You were just in time. I was getting hungry without having something to eat." Hart said, nudging one of the sandwiches and the hot chocote back to Nephi as she tried to give it all to him. "No, no. Those are for you. I kind of figured that you might also want to have a taste."

  "Why, thank you, sir." Nephilia gasped. "But I can't. I am not worthy of such—"

  "Shut up and eat." Hart said in a short, sharp tone.

  "Okay."

  While Nephilia was digging into her food, Helina was still standing there waiting for the two to finish. Once Hart finished, she turned to Nephilia, who was still not done with her's.

  "Who's she?" Helina asked. There was a sense of disgust running through that voice, though. Newcomers aren't always frequent inside the government building, and when they do arrive, not many take it kindly. However, no one hates them as much as Helina.

  "Mind expining yourself?" Helina asked Nephilia directly, despite her body facing Hart. "It would be more courteous to show decency before the President and great Rhineheart."

  Nephilia was unbothered by the question, being too busy slurping the straw of her hot chocote, looking like a child tasting its first candy. Before Helina got any more aggressive, Hart blocked her way as she tried to approach Nephilia.

  "There's no need for that kind of behaviour, Helina." Hart cleared his hand away after getting Helina's attention. "Ahem, I forgot to mention a recent change. This is Nephilia, who will be acting as... uhh... my secretary."

  "Your secretary? How can she meet the requirements for a great man as yourself, sir? If any, I would be more inclined to be your personal secretary, sir, if you so wish." Helina pulled her head away in spite after gncing a second at Nephilia.

  "There won't be any arguments regarding her position. It was my profound decision, and I intend for others to respect it. So, Minister of Internal Affairs, do you wish to say anything else?"

  "N-No." Helina dropped her head and stepped back.

  "Good, I don't mean to bme you, but if you want to make up for the outburst, you can help me by informing the other Ministers about the situation before the meeting so that the same mistake won't be repeated. Will you?" Hart asked with a happy face, not to depress Helina.

  "Oh... Yes! I shall assist on the matter. Thank you, sir, for offering me a chance to redeem myself!" A flock of white hair flew into the air, brushing lightly against Hart's suit, and dangled from Helina's bowed head. Accepting the motion, Hart ughed heartily and thanked her for acting so reasonably and understandably.

  By the time the two brushed the matter away, Nephilia had thrown away her stuff and was standing a few feet away from them, standing patiently with her hands csped in front of her.

  "Sorry, my mind drifted away for a moment. What happened?" Nephilia cluelessly asked.

  "Don't worry about it; you just became my secretary." Hart said, walking away as Nephilia started to mumble in confusion.

  A nearby clock had struck 9, ringing to alert people of the time. That was the set time for the meeting to start. Hart noticed it and beaconed at Nephilia to go, receiving a clear nod from the tter, but she kept asking about what happened.

  * * *

  Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock

  The dark wooden grandfather clock ticked and tacked, being the only thing that could be heard through the silence in the room. Hart was seated at the end of the conference table, thinking about the next course of action, in the midst of everyone's prying eyes.

  Sweat dripped down the forehead of his worried self. The idea of addressing high-ranking officials of his country overwhelmed every fibre inside him with so many bad thoughts overflowing his mind. Yes, he was a professional in talks and management, but those were only for business. What stood before him was the direct responsibility of over 6 million lives! The entirety of the Republic consists of a popution number only slightly higher than 6 million. In the event that Hart acts incompetently as ruler, thousands can quickly face a tormenting change in their lives. A mistake like that must not happen, or he would be no different than those who purposely steal and hurt others.

  What if I mess this up?

  What if I start a civil war?

  What if I set off the destruction of this nation through my incompetence?

  What will they think of me?

  Oh my god, they're looking at me. What can I do?

  Just at that moment of thought, a gentle touch from Hart's right shoulder caused him to jolt his head up. It was Nephilia, who was smiling with so much confidence compared to him. She gave a slight wink, encouraging him to relieve the stress that he was compiling so unnecessarily.

  "You can do it, sir." She telepathically said to Hart, ringing her voice inside his mind.

  "This is going to take a while for me to get used to." Hart thought, replying to the unusual form of communication that one of them somehow possessed.

  "I know," she said, with a sense of a smile on her face. Shrugging at the reply from his mind, Hart now faced the crowd in front. Csping both hands together and pcing his chin or top as a cushion. Hart closed his eyes to fully concentrate on the next couple of sentences that will begin this whole meeting. The duration of thoughts flowed endlessly, unmanaged by time.

  Gring up, four people of great diligence were sitting upright and serious on the chairs. Their mere harsh appearance made him nervous and nearly cost all of his focus. A table separated them by two, putting the lion-man and the white-haired woman on the left, while two gentlemen sat on the right, one with short blonde hair and gsses while the other had a dark brown ivy league haircut.

  These people weren't ordinary ministers. They were 'The Ministers'! Acting as members of the government who are responsible for the most vital parts of the country, the four of them are the heads of each city outside the capital. There are supposed to be seven Ministers in total, though. However, it was notified to Hart beforehand by Nephilia that the other three are unable to join, but the current Ministers are those that matter currently.

  The lion-man was the Minister of Defence, Eudemo, the head commander of the entire armed forces. He wasn't a pure man, a humanoid with a lion's features and feline head that had a long orange mane dangling from it. Faint yers of fur were evidently all over his body. Nothing of his face was human, only a pure construct of a lion, but, being half a man, the Minister retained the rest of his body simir to that of a human, though rger and more toned than a regur person.

  Next to him, having met in person beforehand, was Helina, Minister of Internal Affairs. Aside from her official position as the head of the domestic security of the state, she is also the director of the spy agency, the Triple O's. Known for its role as the defence against underground networks, it was only reasonable for Helina to also manage the agency, considering her ambiguity to be harsh on those foreign to the Nomural Republic.

  On the other side of the table, a man with golden hair, the richness of it representing the economy that he is willing to bring, thus being the Minister of Finance, Archen. Probably the closest person who's like Hart, a businessman whose sole objective is to benefit the organisation he works for.

  The other man was well-dressed and had a fwless, shining brown haircut paired with his insatiable charm, a look that you would never feel robbed when you were talking to him, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Myrom. His role of being the face that represented the state is as equally important as Hart himself being president.

  All of them are characters from his game, and even though he had seen them many times before, their new physical presence was choking him. If every underlying information from the original game is embedded in them right now, some of them are capable of things that would designate them as an existential threat to humanity, and those who are not are still enough to wreck several regions into chaos.

  It was never stated in Politismós that the characters and various support characters had any specific level of strengths but was rather mentioned indirectly from references, such as Eudemo, who was said to be strong enough to lift a whole ship!

  Or Helina, who somehow could manipute and change any element into her desire, which basically means she can change thin air into a fully sized bomb or anything that she sees as of use. Even though this may be unethical, someone with that ability could, theoretically, form a material stronger than any known element in the universe, one that cannot be scratched by anything other than herself.

  Each character is marked by a certain type of css. A css is defined by their speciality or skills and then race. Known csses are Archer, Swordsman, Assassin, and Mages. These are typical common csses and are the typical things you would see in any RPG game. The other side of the spectrum is where the more destructive elements appear. Control Freak, War God, Dragon Master, Omniscient, and Puppeteer are great examples. Csses reting to race can be simple goblins, elves, and humans, while the rare half includes vampires, demigods, demihumans, and the many variants of the undead.

  Myrom and Helina are both Control Freaks, because their abilities are focused on controlling reality. Eudemo is a Power House, as his physical capabilities far surpass any other living creature. Archen's work is all about statistics and working with money, but nothing too special, as he is a strategist.

  One thing to note is that if a character has the same css, their abilities won't work well against each other, presumably to at least show some bance in the game, and depending on the rank difference, skill damage can also vary.

  After a bitter shake of his body, Rhineheart cleared his throat. Elbows barely on the table, both hands csped together, and eyes facing the table in between the Ministers.

  "There are some familiar faces I can see in this room right now." Rhineheart spoke, raising his left palm at Defence Minister Eudemo, "For example, the strong man of the nation, a figure that anyone would be afraid of, right, Defence Minister?"

  The Defence Minister turned to Rhineheart with his rge open eyes, rose from his chair, and while pcing his left hand on his chest, he bowed. "Thank you, sir. Hearing you say this warms my heart to the fullest."

  "I do hope to see how you work, Eudemo. You may sit."

  As Eudemo sat back down, the next person that Hart turned to was Myrom, the Foreign Minister.

  "Foreign Minister, Myrom." The address summoned the Minister up. Back straight and fshing gold sleeve buttons, Myrom faced his master, hands gently pced over each other. "The best of us are only able to perfect their outside figure. However, you have both inner and outer beauty. A man such as yourself can no doubt be a great inspiration for a diplomat."

  "Please, you're too modest, sir. I only reflect the character of my creator, you, sir. If anything, my strengths are all thanks to you."

  "Ah, yes... I did make you after all. Very well, you may sit." Hart cleared his throat, waiting for the Foreign Minister to be fully seated. Once the room fell silent, the main topic of the day could finally be discussed.

  "Now," Hart said. "Shall we officially begin the meeting? I believe the purpose of the meeting was urgent?"

  From the left, Helina took her turn and presented herself to Hart. A folder was on her arm; presumably the details were to be read from the clumps of paper inside it.

  "President Rhineheart," Oh yeah. To them all, his name is his gamertag, Rhineheart, instead of Hart, being from the real world. Noted.

  "Recently, the surrounding nds have been shown to have shifted in geographic location. Old ndmarks such as the Hue Hills west of Bolbus have disappeared from view and were observed to be instead an unknown open grass pin. Despite efforts to find any familiar nds, none were reported back to us."

  The thought struck him. After all this time, Hart hasn't taken account of the city outside, and if what Nephilia and 'Arma' said to him is true, that means they are in a completely different world. Nomural Republic aside, the real task was figuring out what the pnet has in store for him.

  "Even though this poses a very serious problem in state defence, the worst has yet to come." Helina continued. "Due to the sudden isotion, access to several vital resources has been cut off all together. These include oil, coal, fruits, wheat, vegetables, and meat. Though the st four items from the list are commodities produced in the Republic, they are, however, not enough for the full demand of the people, which pces them at a risk of depletion if not taken care of in the coming months. Resources used in our factories have also gone cold. Silicon, iron, copper, and aluminium are a number of things that take up a rge portion of the supply there, all now only avaible in reserve stockpiles."

  "Consumer goods coming into the market have also significantly dropped in size and are expected to remain so until we either find an alternative or when storage empties by then. Without a new source of supply, the people are bound to face a food shortage that cannot be avoided."

  "As a result, our government is currently looking for ways to reduce the receiving impact as well as deciding how to address the situation to the public."

  The report papers were passed on to Nephilia, who gave them to Hart. Cmping with his entire palm, the bundle was so immense in size to the point that the folder holding it together had tear marks on some edges.

  "Only the first stamped stack, sir. The rest of them refer to individual details inside the first stack, which you may take your time to analyse the whole thing if you would like, sir." Helina expined.

  Reading through entire crisis reports isn't really time-efficient or Hart's fancy for now. The top stack was raised up to his eyes, and several bolded letters were pstered clear, reading 'Crisis Report Overview'. After inspecting the front page, the page flicked away for the next page. Contents. It ran down from 'Early Reports' to each subject that Helina said herself.

  Page after page, Hart skimmed through the paragraphs, grasping the main points for him to understand. With each turn, those dark eyebrows on his forehead rose higher and higher; eventually, he stopped his scrolling and pced the papers down on the table. Rubbing the surface of his brows left and right, eyes closed shut, and back pressed against his chair, Hart sat silent, contempting what he had just read.

  "Minister of Internal Affairs?" Hart called, "If I understood it correctly, the most that we have from now is 3 months?"

  "Yes," Helina replied. "Analysts and economists on my side have confirmed the details."

  "That is unsettling, indeed."

  Raising his rge, hairy hands in the air like they were in school, Eudemo asked, "Sir, if I may."

  "Proceed."

  "Though it may be somewhat irrational given our tradition, what if we announce a nationwide martial w?"

  "And why would we do that?" Hart raised an eyebrow.

  "Given the level of authority that it provides, we can easily implement rationing and reduce the number of activities occurring outside the city boundaries. The decision may seem so sudden to the people, but given that we can't afford anyone leaving the safety of our state, they are bound to agree and abide."

  "Hmm..." Hart rubbed his eyes. "Very well, I will take it into consideration, but I do need the rest of you to share your thoughts first before we finalise on any idea."

  Helina took a stand once more but was ushered to sit down by Hart, who said they could speak from their chairs. "Sir, the matter will undoubtedly cause panic and dissent among the popution if we ever publicly release the full scale of the situation. That is why I propose that we keep the matter a secret from the public, and by using what the Defence Minister has just suggested, we can make the excuse that we are in a war with a foreign nation, thus why we must limit both resources and information flowing out."

  "I highly disagree, Ms. Helina." A strong male voice echoed in the room. Myrom showed disdain for her words first before Hart could make any comments on them himself. "As a representative of the people, I must say that martial w is nothing but another way to speed the degradation of our nation."

  "Then what great alternative do you have in mind, Foreign Minister?" Helina, folding her arms.

  "Let the public know about it all. No censorship or any lies."

  "Huh?! How will that help us? Terror and confusion will fill their entire streets if they learn that we are in a completely unknown world with no signs of solving our resource shortage."

  "I understand your concern, Helina, but the right course of action is for us to py our role as informants to the people so they can help us manage this whole mess. If we force people to adopt sudden changes that are limiting their freedom, no one is going to support the act. By at least being truthful, the people will realise the necessity and uphold order for us."

  Helina stood from her chair, leaning her hands and body toward the Foreign Minister. "Truth, if you understand, Mr. Myrom, shows weakness. A ck of power to defend ourselves and the absence of sufficient food sources will rip a hole in the people's beliefs about us. Many could decide to leave and abandon the state for other nations."

  Returning the favour, Myrom got up as well, pcing himself close to Helina's disapproving face. "What nations? Those who will see our people as foreigners and invaders of their nds? Besides, no one is foolish enough to venture out into the complete unknown. Do you really think the people will leave the safety of their homes and our government because of a situation in which only after a few months will we face the ultimate pain? People are still reasonable enough to wait a couple of months before they even consider the idea of desertion."

  "I've been trying to hold this anger until now, Myrom, but now... I'M GOING TO-"

  "Silence!" Hart roared, making everyone cease their actions and turn to him. "I do NOT want to hear yelling for the rest of this meeting! Do I make myself clear?"

  Both Myrom and Helina bowed ft on their faces, pleading to forgive them for the mistake. The two returned to their chairs with a more sorrowful face than before, but even then, they exchanged sharp gres at each other, as if bming the other for what happened.

  "Is there anyone else who wants to give their opinions? Finance Minister, do you want a word?" Hart asked.

  "Thank you, sir, but I do not have anything to say right now." Archen replied modestly.

  "I have made my decision." Hart announced, catching everyone's attention. A moment of anticipation sted for a minute. Nephilia leaned down to Hart, nudging her shoulder slightly to Hart's back, not to arouse any unnecessary attention. Neither he nor she was talking, from the ck of mouth movement, but it did appear something caught Hart's attention considering he looked back at Nephilia, who nodded back at him.

  "Considering everyone's words and suggestions, the choice has become clear to me." The President faced the first speaker of the meeting, Eudemo. "The consideration of martial w is reasonable due to the need for a defensive and strict control over internal matters. That is why I agree to it, but we cannot rule over everyone with an iron fist. We are doing this to make sure the people can be helped; keep that in mind."

  "It's an honour to be recognised by your greatness." Eudemo bowed, hand on his heart.

  Raising his right index finger into the air, Hart stated, pointing to Myrom. "Foreign Minister, your argument to publicly announce our isotion has caught my attention."

  "Umm... yes, sir?" Myrom stood up nervously. "What—what would you, sir, like to ask me about?"

  "The reasoning. Not many believe in the art of truth like you do. Can you refer to what you wish to achieve by letting the public know of the situation?"

  "I—I believe that by telling the truth, we would both let the people know that we are trustworthy and that there is a real reason for us to act defensively in the near future."

  "I see."

  Helina, on the other side, was sneering, giggling under her breath. "He's so dead. The President doesn't like his idea."

  "That is surprising to hear..." Hart started.

  Helina thought to herself, "Oh, it's sealed. That dumb Myrom is going to be scolded for his ignorance."

  "It reminds me of my own younger self." Hart finished, surprising Helina, who almost jumped out of her chair. "I approve of your resolve."

  "W-What? Why?" Helina mumbled.

  "We cannot afford to shatter the country by putting more tension in our lives. Despite the possible chaos that may ensue due to the people's worries, I cannot emphasise enough the importance of keeping the people's trust. Despite us knowing about the issue, this as a whole matters to every citizen in the Nomural Republic; thus why we must ride the same boat to solve the currents along the way. That will be it."

  Myrom, unsure about whether to feel proud to be referenced by the President or grateful for not being punished, sighed in relief. Helina slouched back in defeat, unable to refute against Myrom, as he now has Hart's backing.

  "Then I shall make an announcement to the public on television by the evening. Anyone who opposes this pn?"

  No one disagreed.

  "Very well, then it's settled."