Our nation rose from ruin of another.

Father often told me of the time when I was a baby. About the chaos that ripped apart Phantasia and the civil war that destroyed our former home of Centuria. He reminisced upon the hardship of fleeing Duke Acrisius’ fabled army; the countless mercenaries and warlords that transformed the once peaceful land into a battlefield.

It was a harsh time that forever scarred our people, but despite his pain, there is hope in my parent’s tale. The beginning which blossomed after the carnage faded.

It was my favorite bedtimes story.

Once upon the time, in the nation aflame with evil, the young boy humbled himself, not before the strength in an army of steel nor survival, but to his heart. He bowed to protect what dear to him and made a wish. It was the most human request possible. A wish he believed was impossible to be granted, but he couldn’t live with himself for not voicing it.

It was that hope which summoned the Storm to douse the burning battlefield.

With the strength unseen in this millennium, the Storm aided the boy in defeating the flames plaguing the nation. With the might of hope and bravery, the boy led his men and triumph over the raging fires. Some flickering ember of evil survived that battle, but they possessed no hope to overcome the wind bulwark gifted by the Storm. To satiate their impossible ambition, the ember warred among themselves, and consuming each other in retribution and rage. In time, those sparks of retribution were no more.

Meanwhile, the boy retreated to the storm’s bulwark, with his humble wish fulfilled. He and others, with the blessing of the Storm, build a new nation behind the mighty wind-wall. And together they sculpted our fair Acropolis.

Our country never pays tribute to the gods, nor deigned to join the Alliance. The storm of light taught us we are the maker of our fate. True strength arises when one has something to protect and earnest wish to fulfill.

In time, I come to learn the name of that mighty storm which blessed our founder with victory.

Thank you, Horizon Dawn.

— Excerpt from The Birth Acropolis Republic written by C. Homer.

…

It was a month after New Year’s Eve, or basically, two months after Centuria kicked the bucket.

The boy’s name was Philip Odysseus. In near future, his tale became the favorite case study for a history essay. To be honest, young Philip would be laughing at the notion he scored such historical significance in Phantasia history. He was a child born in a family of merchant — a total nobody. He also got a bigger problem: surviving the collapse of his own country.

Centuria was on the backfoot unrest ever since the accusation against Grand Empire for the Leviathan’s attack backfired. The death knell arrived when the king finally parted the mortal coil via a lethal combination of health problems and stress two years ago, forcing Princess Penelope Centuria to ascend to the queenship at the tender age of twelve.

The nation quickly went into the decline with several dukedoms amassing their force and the newbie ruler too green to stop it. All it needed for the powder keg of a nation to explode was a spark — namely the three Heavenly Daughters warring in the neighboring country. Using national security as an excuse, Duke Acrisius started the open rebellion against the throne.

Credit to Queen Penelope, she did her best in fending the rebel forces, but the royalist couldn’t handle Acrisius who had wrangled majority of Centuria’s military power. The fact the other duke picked this time to rebel or outright help Acrisius took out the royalist was simply dropping an anvil on a dying horse.

Smash between anvil and powder keg, the young Queen reign was fated to end miserably. Sadly, fate wasn’t satisfied with slaughtering the horse, its need the corpse atomized. On New Year’s Eve, the only two S-class of Centuria defected and joined Acrisius.

Against overwhelming numbers and a critical betrayal, the capital of Centuria got sacked within a matter of days. Citizen flee the capital to the four winds. While the Queen and her small royalist army desperately retreated with Duke Acrisius’ army hunting after them.

Compared with that national stage, Philip Odysseus was a guy who barely escaped the capital with his life. Okay, Philip would admit he had one thing special to weigh on the scale, but he knew perfectly well his sentiment wouldn’t change anything. He was the poor shmuck whose business got burn down during the capital’s sacking. Survival should be the highest priority for him.

So why did this happen?

“Are you okay, General Atlanta,” Philip asked the woman tagging along with several battered troops.

The woman growled at him.

Yes, Philip was sheltering the last remnant of Centuria’s royal army. It appeared after their final defeat. Princess Penelope split up with the main army to act as a decoy. It was the true final glory of a move for the young Queen. Without a doubt, this act of sacrifice elevated her from her prior placement in the Mary Jane Grey-tier of Queenship. It even caught General Atlanta by surprise. The General of royalist originally thought she was going to be the decoy until the Queen launched a flair, alerting her location to the pursuing army, before setting off in the opposite direction with the fastest skyship in the entire kingdom.

Everyone and their puppy knew the Queen Penelope was toasted. It was a matter of time until that skyship ran out of power, but this act of courage allowed what remained of her army to survive, until Philip found them.

Sane men would run away from this mess. Opportunistic men would inform their location to Duke Acrisius. But Philip was neither. It was a part of resourcefulness, blind luck, and foolhardiness for him to seek them out and found them so fast. No. Those were excuses. The only reason he found the remnant of the army before Acrisius was because he understood the girl behind that mask more than even her general did.

He instinctively knew Penelope would use herself as a decoy.

“I don’t need your help!” General Atlanta yelled at the young man. “I am going too—”

“She risks her life for you to get away!” Philip yelled back. “It is too late anyway. How can you expect to catch up to that ship!?”

Atlanta was outrage, but she knew the boy had a point.

“Why are you here, then? You and the rest of those coward flee the capital the moment things burn. Stary and fight dammit. Can you even call yourself Centuria’s citizen!”

“Fight with what? A mediocre fireball? A C-rank strength stats?” It was Philip turned to raise his voice. “I want to, you know? But I know what you did to the grunt. Sorry, Miss, but I have too much to lose by joining your army.”

Atlanta looked at him with rage and sighed.

“So, you expect the magical teaching and resource to be widely available? You know how much that will erode the national security!”

“So much for national security!” Philips retorted, before looking in fear at the brightening sky behind the lines of trees. “Oh shit, we need to hurry. That light is probably Kakia. If she found us…”

Atlanta and the troops behind her paled. The fear of the infamous S-ranker was carved deep inside their heart. Kakia was the strongest and the most brutal S-ranker of Centuria for good reasons.

“Fine!” Atlanta ordered the troop to move. “Where are we going?”

Philips looked amongst the tree line. Soon this forest they were mingling in would burn to the ash. The green trees charred black, and the dirt scorched as smoke and dust covered the air. He believed that was the path waiting for them all. His plan was a long shot. An improvisation hinged on the glittering stardust of hope on the sandstorm of malevolence that covered Tengen.

Yet, Philip still dared to dream of a twinkling falcon that could shelter them from rampaging environment.

“I am not sure, but there is a rumor about a place. A few days ago, my business partner wrote to me about it. He said he met a wizard building a wall of sacred forest to protect her newly create refuge by the coast south from here. Aside from churning out awesome drinks, he said the refuge escaping the chaos is gathering there. The people call it the Acropolis.”

“Wait, you are believing a word of a rambling drunk. How could we miss something like that?” Helen didn’t believe in this fairytale for a second.

“Do you have a better idea?”

Helen quieted down.

And thus, the remnant of the army and their guide marched toward the refuge of a wizard.

…

Said wizard was currently dealing with the usual discord inside her camouflaged interdimensional ship.

“Okay, explain to me why we are twiddling our thumb when the fucking capital is burning?” Luxinna Drakokia made her point known, while pointing at the growing red area on the holographic map of Tengen Continent.

“Yeah, I am seconding Luxinna,” Melody growled. “We should drop this pet project and hose Acrisius down.”

The wizard — one Cytortia Tianshang — repeated the same explanation she had since day one.

“I know how you feel, but we are doing our best.”

“You mean building a freaking wall, train bunch of refugees how to farm and fight, while Hikma and Ehto went out on Rem's top secret mission,” Melody pouted. “Seriously, we are supposed to be restoring peace and order, right? Why don’t we just go in and finish this? It is better for everyone that way.”

Luxinna nodded in agreement.

“Yep, I can’t recall the last time a war is won when we sat on our ass and chill like a turtle.”

The door opened, and the orchestrator of the refugee settlement walked in to shine the light of enlightenment.

“Hello, ladies,” Remus Breaker cheered, with a wooden cup in hand. “Cytortia, fantastic job! Thanks to your agricultural innovation, the farming is going great. Our first batch of Phantasian carbonated fruit drink is an instant hit. Those kiddos are geniuses!” Rem waved the cup. “We finally have our main export. With the merchants gathering here, this thing will jet us to financial freedom!” Rem let fantasy take him further. “Maybe this could be a great source of funding. Now, I need to figure out how to teach preteen about handling money.”

“Phantasia to Rem!” Melody yelled at her friend. “I need an answer.”

“What answer?”

“Answer to why are you sending me to drill a volunteer army, rather than marching up north to kick Acrisius’ ass?” Luxinna joined Melody in glaring at Rem.

Rem sighed.

“Very well, a lesson on warfare it is.”

Rem walked over to the holographic board. The Daybreak’s Operation Room on the mid-floor nested at the center of the battleship. Multiple holograms detailing the strategic location lighted the room in an ethereal glow. Rem motioned with his hand and summoned a map he, Ehto and Hikma had work on.

It was the map of Centuria. The largest blood red area stretching from north to the capital was Acrisius’ territory. The sickly green by the west which controlled the coast belongs to another Duke; Minos. Finally, Duke Eurystheus controlled the territory of the east, which brought him to close contact with Frisnia’s border.

“This map represents the pieces Centuria collapses into. The country has splintered.”

“Because we did nothing!” Luxinna yelled.

“More like it is too late to do anything,” Rem wasn’t happy about that fact. “Things progress faster than we expect. It took us around three weeks at top speed to sail here from Aurora’s continent. By that time, Queen Penelope’s and the future of the intact Centuria kissed the coffin.”

“She still got the capital then,” Melody protested.

“Mel, I could address the refugees tomorrow and claim our settlement is the new capital of Centuria,” Rem coldly stated. “If having a throne gave you an automatic mandate, Japan and China would never get a single civil war in its bloody history. A ruler’s strength is their reputation and trust. Penelope lost both when the S-rankers defected a month ago. Even if we gave her victory on a silver platter, her career is over. Monarch is tested in the time of crisis and there is no possibility of Penelope attaining any authority outside of expensive chair decoration after failing that badly.”

“You are saying we already lose?” Luxinna was outrage.

“In a certain sense, yes,” Rem grumpily declared. “No.” He corrected himself. “Losing implies we actually throw a punch. Since we didn’t even arrive at the brawl in time to make a political difference, it could be said Centuria self-destructed. Those Dukes didn’t gather their power in the vacuum. I and Hikma did some light research, and we can safely assume the chaos from the previous monarch’s death, systematic bureaucratic corruption, administrative ineptitude, and the three bastards gaming the waning system made the cocktail that broke Centuria like a porcelain before we even landed on this rock.”

“This might sound morbid,” Melody said. “But why don’t we use Penelope as a figurehead.”

“Because you are not Madam Hydra and I am not Lex Luthor,” Rem gave a simple answer that should be obvious to any hero before following that up one more in line with the sociologist. “Aside from the moral disgrace of propping up the entire Centuria’s society as our sock-puppet, we will so be breaking the 4th Constitution of Dawn if we go that route.”

“Hey, isn’t that the one you push,” Luxinna said. “The one that state we won’t surrender our sovereignty.”

“Horizon Dawn will not surrender Sovereignty to foreign body,” Melody quoted from memory. “Why do you insist on that one so badly.”

“Because I know we will be tempted,” Rem answered. “And the moment our command structure and purpose get tied to another institution, we will end being a tool for said institution rather than a force for good. This also prevents us from absorbing an institution that could destroy us from the inside — like Centuria.”

Luxinna couldn’t believe Rem’s paranoia.

“You are treating the entire country like a time-bomb.”

Rem laughed.

“Lux, you are wrong. Centuria isn’t a time-bomb. It is a sociopolitical nuclear fallout. I should have known because my country — The Mother-fucking United States of America — is a case study on trying to stabilize said fallout by foreign intervention. Trust me, both of you, we will be repeating Saigon and its desert sequel before things get any better. Untested faux government isn’t rewarded here. Overt interference will unite our enemy, and even if we clean them out, the opportunist will emerge from the woodwork to usurp our replacement the moment we left.”

It was Cytortia who summed it up.

“Basically, trying to reanimate Centuria as a zombie will sink both resources and lives. We aren’t doing the people favor by trying to float a sunken ship with pump and duct-tape.”

Luxinna couldn’t believe this.

“You two of all people are just letting it burn.”

“That sound horrible,” Rem agreed. “But all things end. Fortunately, although the physical skeleton of the nation is wasted, its soul — the people — is salvageable. And that is the crux of our strategy.”

Rem resumed narrating their mission.

“Hikma, I and Ehto came to a consensus that only a total overhaul of the broken institution will save it. However, if that route is our only effective option, then it is much easier to build a new system from the ground up especially with the war refugees desperately seeking community.”

“Ohhhh!” Melody got it. “So that is our plan. You are using Acropolis as a seed for a new nation.”

“Bingo,” Rem gave Melody a thumb-up. “That is why we are having you two on a training job. This little refugee camp needs trade, law enforcement, and education. We need to teach the people how to stand proud and rebuild. Meanwhile, Cytortia and I will lay ground work to ensure they can survive after we move on. Hikma and Ehto are now on overtime to rescue as many people as they can and bring them here.”

“I get where you are coming from,” Luxinna nodded. “But what about the three Dukes.”

“They will be problematic once it dawn on them their future subjects are holding fort here,” Rem looked at the colorful map. “Luckily, they are focusing on each other and we can keep it that way. Hopefully, they will throw so many bodies at each other they ran out of stamina before reaching us.”

But alas, Rem wishes of pacifistic victory wasn’t fate to come true.