POV : CELESTIAL EMPIRE

  Lee Brock, the Celestial Emperor, was enjoying himself in the palace. He had 20 concubines, and with his ministers running the empire for him, he didn’t have a lot of headaches. He was lying in the arms of one of his concubines, thinking about the fact that he had successfully helped take down the armies of America United.

  His concubine, a jade-eyed beauty with long legs and a pale complexion, said, “Your majesty, now that you’ve taken over the American United territory, what happens?”

  The Celestial Emperor responded, “Well, we’ve taken over the territory, but Atlas has the actual land.”

  “Why did Atlas get it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. The system decided it and connected it all. But they’re paying us every month in taxes.”

  “Oh, that’s great,” she said, already thinking about all the things she could buy if she got extra money in her allowance. “And then what happens next? Will Atlas keep giving you money as you work together to conquer the wasteland?”

  The Celestial Emperor fell silent, deep in thought. “That’s right… What will happen if Atlas keeps conquering? The wasteland would eventually fall to our two armies.” There was nothing they had seen yet that could stand in their way. “That’s something I’m going to think about, darling,” he said, giving her a playful slap on her butt.

  She giggled and nuzzled him.

  After some more time spent with his concubine, Lee Brock got out of bed. He summoned his ministers and asked for an update. The ministers briefed him on the dungeons they had conquered, the bandits they had fought, and the remnants of the American army they had repelled.

  The Celestial Emperor wasn’t interested in any of that, though. “What about Atlas?” he asked, interrupting them.

  “Well, he’s still taking more territory,” one of the ministers replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

  “And is he paying us for all that land?” the Celestial Emperor pressed, his brow furrowing with mounting irritation.

  “No,” came the curt response.

  “Then who’s paying the army?” He could feel the tension in the room thickening.

  His ministers exchanged uneasy glances, anxiety flickering in their eyes. “We are,” one finally said, the weight of the admission hanging heavily in the air.

  The Celestial Emperor’s brow furrowed, tension creeping into his voice. “Wait… we’re still paying the army, and Atlas isn’t paying us extra?”

  “That’s right.” The ministers looked embarrassed over the slip up.

  He clenched his fists, anger bubbling to the surface. “No! We never considered that! I thought our goal was to unify the wasteland under my rule!” His voice rose, echoing with frustration and disbelief. He had always dreamed of solidifying his empire, but it was supposed to be his rule, his empire—one he had envisioned with unwavering ambition and determination.

  He imagined returning to Earth, basking in the praises of the Chinese government as a conquering hero. Maybe even his parents would finally acknowledge his success. He remembered a time from his childhood when he got stung by bees, and his father sneered, “You got stung by a bee? Why not get stung by an A?” ‘Ah, Chinese parents,‘ he thought bitterly.

  Driven by the need to prove himself, both for filial pride and his patriotism, the emperor snapped to his ministers, “Why are we paying but not getting territory? Summon the council. I want to meet with them—now.”

  The combined council gathered swiftly, a mix of ministers from the Celestial Empire and the Portal Crushers. The emperor addressed them with authority. “We need to renegotiate. Sure, you paid us for the last territory when we took down the American army, but now what? We’re still paying for an army, and we’re not seeing any bonuses.”

  The ministers representing the Celestial Empire nodded in agreement. Even the Portal Crushers, who usually favored Atlas, exchanged concerned looks. One of them finally spoke up, “That does seem unfair. Why don’t we work on this together?”

  The emperor smiled, pleased. Satisfied with the progress, he returned to his harem of concubines, leaving the council to figure out how to keep paying the Celestial Emperor for his army—without shattering their delicate alliance.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  ‘‘‘

  POV : FORT BONE EMPIRE

  The streets buzzed with uneasy chatter, nervous glances exchanged between those waiting for news. Tensions were high, and rumors spread faster than wildfire.

  “Did you hear?” one citizen whispered, leaning in close to their friend. “Atlas and the Celestial Emperor might be coming to blows.”

  The other citizen’s face paled. “Oh no. That’s the last thing we need.”

  “Yeah, not good for any of us. All we want is peace.”

  The first citizen nodded, their voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “Bandits and those leftover soldiers are bad enough. Don’t even get me started on the skeletons still roaming around.”

  “I thought the skeletons had thinned out?”

  “They have,” came the reply, “but every now and then, you still run into one. And when you do, they’re annoying as hell.”

  The second citizen shuddered. “The big worry’s the giant ants.”

  “Ugh, don’t remind me. Once those things swarm you, forget it—you’re done for.”

  “Have you actually seen them?” asked the first, eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity.

  “Nah,” the second citizen admitted, “but an adventurer at the bar told me his whole party got eaten by them. Said it was beyond disgusting.”

  The first citizen grimaced. “That’s gross.”

  “Yeah, and he said, ‘If Atlas and the Emperor split their armies, do you think they’ll actually fight?’”

  “I hope not,” the other said, their voice tight with worry. “We’re nearing the end of the year. We just need to survive. If Atlas conquers the wasteland, maybe… just maybe we can all go home.”

  “I hope it’s true,” the first muttered, their words heavy with doubt. “But I can’t help thinking it’s another empty political promise.”

  “Me too,” the second citizen sighed. “Me too.”

  ‘‘‘

  POV : CELESTIAL EMPIRE WAR ROOM

  The Council was struggling to find a solution that didn’t require splitting the two armies. Olivia as the official mediator stepped in when she heard about their deadlock. Both the Emperor and Atlas were absent from the meeting, preferring to let the Council work things out. Neither was particularly fond of endless debates. Atlas would rather draw his swords to solve problems, while the Celestial Emperor leaned on his soldiers. ‘The farther away from the Council, the better,‘ thought Olivia.

  “What does the Celestial Emperor want?” she asked the ministers from the Celestial Empire.

  One of the ministers sighed, “The same thing he’s always wanted: to take over the wasteland.”

  Lark shook his head, “Well, we both know that’s not happening. With the Joint Council ruling together, nobody’s going to take it over alone.”

  The minister nodded, “True, but that doesn’t stop the Emperor from asking us if we can figure out a way for him to rule individually.”

  “That’s not good,” Lark muttered.

  Olivia leaned in, her voice confident. “Well, Atlas has always wanted to rule the whole Empire too, so that he can make sure this Red Fairy doesn’t screw him.”

  She paused, eyes gleaming. “I have an idea. I think the Celestial Emperor would go for a project that makes him a symbol. Part of his problem is, right now, he’s not a symbol like Atlas and the Portal Crushers.”

  The minister frowned, “Outside of the Celestial Empire’s territories, everyone already sees Atlas as the true leader of the wasteland. His majesty isn’t too thrilled about that.

  “What if we erect a giant pagoda as a diplomatic hall in every territory Atlas takes, with a golden statue of the Celestial Emperor in front of it?”

  The Celestial Empire’s ministers perked up, intrigued. “That would be perfect,” they said. “It would appeal to his ego, and the pagodas would also serve as defenses in those areas.”

  “Exactly,” Olivia said, her smile widening. “Atlas would go along with it because of the defensive benefits, and he doesn’t care about having statues of himself. He even vetoed the idea in the original Fort Bone, calling it ‘unseemly and irritating.’”

  “That’s perfect, then,” one of the ministers said. “We can present this to the Celestial Emperor and make it seem like Atlas is yielding to him. That’ll give him a lot of face.”

  “Excellent,” Olivia said, satisfied with the plan.

  The ministers from the Celestial Empire rushed into the grand hall, eager to present their brilliant idea to the Celestial Emperor. His majesty was lounging on his golden throne, looking utterly bored, absently twirling a jade sceptre in his hand.

  “Your Majesty!” one of the ministers began with a wide grin, “We’ve come up with a solution to your concerns.”

  The Emperor raised an eyebrow, mildly intrigued. “Oh? This better be good.”

  The lead minister stepped forward, puffing out his chest. “In every territory Atlas conquers, we’ll build a giant pagoda—a grand diplomatic hall! And right in front of it will stand a golden statue of you, your majesty!”

  The Emperor blinked, then slowly sat up straighter, his eyes lighting up. “A statue? Of me? In every territory?”

  “Yes, sire!” the ministers said in unison, practically tripping over each other to take credit. “A towering, magnificent statue! To show your power and dominance over the wasteland.”

  The Celestial Emperor grinned, his mood lifting instantly. “This… this is exactly what I wanted! A symbol of my rule, spreading across the wasteland, reminding everyone who the real Emperor is.”

  The ministers nodded enthusiastically, exchanging quick glances of relief. “And the pagodas, sire, will also serve as defensive structures. A show of strength and practicality!”

  The Emperor was beaming now, absolutely thrilled with the idea. “Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! I knew you lot had it in you. Finally, something worthy of my greatness!”

  He stood from his throne, dramatically waving his sceptre. “Prepare to make the announcements! I want the entire wasteland to know that the Celestial Emperor will be watching over them.”

  The ministers bowed, their faces glowing with pride as they hurried out. As they left, the Emperor sat back down, still basking in his glory.

  “A bunch of statues of me…” he chuckled to himself, eyes gleaming. “The wasteland will never forget who rules them now.”