A massive line stretching out iin front of Bone Appetit, with eager faces all waiting for their chance to dine. But the leader of the DRC settlement wasn’t eager—he was annoyed. His steps were heavy with impatience as he brushed past the line and approached the hostess, his voice dripping with authority.

  “I’d like a table on the top floor,” he said, his tone leaving little room for argument.

  The hostess, calm but clearly experienced with this kind of attitude, smiled politely. “Oh, do you have a reservation?”

  The leader narrowed his eyes. “No, but do you know who I am?”

  The hostess maintained her composure, though internally she was already bracing herself for a challenge. “I’m really sorry, sir, but reservations are required for the top floor. There are many wonderful restaurants in the building, though, if you’d like to try one.”

  He shot a look back at his group of eight, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “That won’t do. I promised them we’d be eating at the top of the world today.”

  The hostess, still professional, nodded. “Let me see if there are any openings.” She knew it was pointless—the top floor had been booked solid for weeks—but she checked anyway. As expected, nothing was available.

  ‘‘‘

  Isabella had been taking a rare moment to relax outside when she saw the exchange. Her heart sank a little when she saw a settlement leader. ‘Just what I need. More problems.‘

  Atlas and Olivia had been tirelessly working to bring neutral territories into the fold, convincing settlements, one by one, to accept the Portal Crushers as the new rulers of the wasteland. The goal was clear: conquer the wasteland with as little bloodshed as possible. But situations like this could turn delicate negotiations on their heads.

  Before the hostess could deliver the bad news, Isabella stepped forward, her voice firm yet friendly. “Aren’t you the leader of the DRC settlement? Gazali?”

  The leader’s eyes lit up when he recognized Isabella. “Oh, you’re Isabella, the owner of the restaurant,” he said, sounding impressed. He’d seen her a lot on the Red Fairy show projections, and she was even more commanding in person.

  Isabella smiled warmly, but inside she was all business. ‘Perfect opportunity,’ she thought. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you in person. We can definitely get you a table. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  She escorted him and his party upstairs. The top floor was as packed as she expected, not a single empty table in sight. But Isabella was nothing if not resourceful. With a bit of quick thinking, she guided them to a table—normally reserved for Atlas and the Portal Crushers, positioned in the prime spot of the restaurant. The view was unbeatable, and the aura of importance it carried was undeniable.

  The leader was visibly flattered, his eyes wide as he sat down. He knew exactly what this table represented. It wasn’t just the best seat in the house—it was the seat of power in the best restaurant in the world. He couldn’t believe it.

  As the evening passed and his meal came to an end, Isabella caught him on the side, her tone shifting from hostess to negotiator. “You know,” she started, her eyes focused on his, “you’ve been in negotiations with Olivia for a while now to join our empire. What’s been holding you back?”

  The leader hesitated, looking thoughtful. “It just doesn’t feel right to join someone else’s empire. Our town is doing fine on its own.”

  Isabella leaned in slightly, her voice soft yet serious. “I get that. But Atlas… he has a vision. With the Celestial Emperor, he’s set on uniting the whole wasteland. And if diplomacy doesn’t work, well… let’s just say the other options might not be as pleasant. You seem like a good guy. I bet your people would thrive as part of our Fort Bone Empire. It’s not like we’re asking much. No extra taxes, no crazy demands. All you’d have to do is recognize the Fort Bone Empire as your leader.”

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Her words hung in the air. The man chewed on the idea, his brow furrowing in thought. He had been resisting for so long, but Isabella’s calm logic—and perhaps the weight of where he was sitting—was starting to wear down his defenses.

  After a few more drinks, some casual conversation, and the clincher—a gold-tier membership card to Bone Appetit—he really started to lean towards joining. Isabella could see the shift in his eyes. ‘Got him,‘ she thought, her smile widening as they shook hands.

  The leader leaned back in his chair, swirling his drink and giving Isabella a side glance. “So… what exactly comes with this gold-tier membership?” His tone was casual, but she could see he was hooked.

  Isabella smirked. “Well, besides getting the best seat in the house anytime you come by, you’ll also have exclusive access to our off-menu items. Oh, and did I mention priority seating for special events?”

  The leader raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Off-menu? Like secret sandwiches or something?”

  Isabella laughed. “Oh, we go way beyond sandwiches. Think celestial empire mutant beef, imported straight from the Emperor’s personal stock. Drinks that’ll make you feel like you’re dining as an emperor.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Impressive. But, I’ve gotta admit, you’re making this whole empire thing sound like a five-star vacation package.”

  Isabella leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “That’s the point. Join us, and your settlement gets all the perks. Security, trade, access to the best chefs in the wasteland. No brainer, right?”

  He chuckled, swirling his drink again. “It does sound good. But what happens if I say no? You all gonna show up with your Portal Crushers and convince us?”

  Isabella’s smile didn’t waver. “Atlas’s patience has its limits, but we’d prefer no crushing. Diplomacy’s our style. But… if we have to bring in the Portal Crushers? Well, let’s just say you don’t wanna be on the wrong side of history.”

  The leader looked at her for a long moment, then burst out laughing. “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that. But I’ve seen Atlas in action—your guy’s not messing around. Fine, you win. Tell Olivia she’s got a deal. But I better get that secret menu next time I’m here.”

  Isabella grinned, holding out her hand. “Welcome to the empire. And don’t worry, next time you’re here, we’ll have something even better waiting for you.”

  As they shook hands, the leader leaned in one last time, a playful glint in his eye. “You know, if I knew the empire’s negotiations came with a meal like this, I’d have signed up ages ago.”

  Isabella laughed. “Maybe that’s the secret to world domination—good food.”

  ‘‘‘

  Another politician, Marlo of the Windspear settlement, found himself in Fort Bone, grappling with a dilemma. His struggling settlement needed the stability and protection of the Fort Bone Empire, but his citizens were fiercely independent and resistant to the idea. They cherished their autonomy, and Marlo knew it wouldn’t be an easy sell.

  To give them a chance to see the benefits firsthand, he had brought along the leaders of the opposition. They weren’t exactly excited to be here, but after some tense discussions over drinks at the Wasted Tavern, things started to loosen up. A few ales in, and the once-heated arguments turned into more civil debates—though none of them seemed ready to budge.

  In a last-ditch effort, Marlo suggested they all go see the local play everyone had been raving about: The End of the Skeleton Horde: Part III, where the ending promised a victory for everyone. Reluctantly, they agreed.

  As they settled into their seats, Marlo hoped the play might open their eyes. The show was vibrant, emotional, and surprisingly engaging, even for those who came in with arms crossed and minds closed.

  The grand theatre was packed, buzzing with excitement as the curtains rose. The audience was a mix of civilians, soldiers, and council members, all eagerly awaiting the exaggerated performance of the “The End of the Skeleton Horde.” The lights dimmed, and a hush fell over the crowd. A dramatic trumpet blared.

  An actor playing the Skeleton General stormed onto the stage, stomping loudly as he waved a massive plastic sword, his face twisted into an overly exaggerated snarl,

  “I AM THE SKELETON GENERAL! FEAR ME, FOR I—”

  Another actor, this one playing Atlas, puffed out his chest and rushed in from the side, sporting hot pink armour.

  “Halt, foul beast! I, Atlas, shall stop you with my unmatched bravery and my chiselled physique!” he boomed, flexing as scattered applause rippled through the crowd.

  The Skeleton General spun dramatically, “Oh no! It is the mighty Atlas! But you cannot stop me! My horde is near!” He lifted his plastic sword high as if rallying troops.

  A third actor stepped forward, the Narrator, his voice deep and theatrical, “In the dark of night, when hope seemed lost,

  “The Horde did march, at a heavy cost!

  But from the fort, our hero rose,

  To face the General and all his foes!”

  The play continued for a while, until an intermission was called.

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DHNJKPKW