This blog is dedicated to keeping everyone up to date on important information, from dedicated Academy students to enforcers fiercely keeping us safe. By following this account you are investing in your future, and doing your duty to the Imperium.
Death: War is dead.
Famine: what?
Famine: no she isn't she wouldn't just die
Famine: Death this isn't fucking funny
Death: I know. But it is true.
Famine: how?
Death: Bullet to the skull. She'd gone after Journalist. And failed.
Death: War is dead.
Famine: Duarte
Death: what?
Famine: im correcting you. her fucking name is Duarte. was Duarte. Use it.
Famine: please.
Death: Alright. Duarte is dead. Bethany murdered her.
Death: feel better?
Famine: ... no
Death: Well put that aside. We need to plan.
Famine: for what?
Death: Finishing what she started.
[Bethany Dyer was running. Her shoes pounded mercilessly against concrete and dirt as she raced through the city, winding her way through alleyways and lifeless streets as her lungs heaved. Blood stained her shirt. She didn't hear them coming. All she'd known that one moment she'd been walking down the street, the next she'd been slammed into a wall and there were fangs at her neck. They'd been waiting for her.]
[She'd killed one. And then she'd started running.]
[She careened down an alleyway, coming up to a wire fence. Her magic was depleted but not gone. The metal bent around her and let her through. She ignored the exhaustion in her bones. She ignored the pain in her side. She refused to feel any of it.]
[They'd wanted revenge. For every lie she had sold, every broadcast she had made, every fucking word. For the world she had helped build. They didn't think it would be hard. The Imperium's favourite puppet. How long can she go without her strings?]
[She came skidding to a stop in an alleyway on the outskirts of Dahlia, the exhaustion all of a sudden too much. She sat down, back sliding down a brick wall, graffiti'd with something inane. It was gone. The Imperium. Everything she'd sacrificed, everything she'd done, had been for nothing. But for now it was quiet. Maybe she'd lost them-]
[There was a gun to her head. Someone standing over her.]
Bethany.
[She didn't need to look up to know who it was, but she did. One of her Postmen. One of her best. A tool to be used and then discarded, like everyone else she'd ever known.]
War. You really shouldn't be out here. It's dangerous, didn't you hear?
Cut the crap. You know why I'm here. Can't even be bothered to beg?
Hm. Never really saw the appeal. You do realise if you fire that, it'll alert every vampire in the area? Be smart about this, War-
[War flipped the gun and slammed the barrel straight into her skull. Her ears rung with the impact, her whole world spinning as she slammed straight into the floor.]
YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!
War, stop yelling-
YOU STOLE MY LIFE! [A boot was slammed straight into their gut, knocking the breath from their lungs-] My home, my family, my- my fucking name!
[Bethany forced themself to look up. The gun was pointed at her head. The hand was shaking, but at this range it wouldn't matter. There was hatred in that voice, but also something fragile. She kept her voice calm, placating.] I- okay, I did. And I'm sorry. Just put down the gun, and we can talk-
No. I- I don't have to listen to you anymore. The Imperium's gone.
[B watched the finger around the trigger squeeze. Instinct took over. She barrelled into the former Postmen's legs, forcing her to the ground. The gun slipped from her grip, falling a few feet away from the scramble. Both of them saw where it fell. Both of them knew what would happen next. Both of them lunged.]
[Bethany had given everything for this, the life she had built. She'd lied, cheated, stolen, killed- all for a taste of power. Power that had slipped between her hands. It would be easier to just lay down and die. Quick, painless. But then again.]
[She grabbed the gun and pulled the trigger. War fell to the floor, a bullet through her skull.]
[There was always more power to be won. A new lie to be spun, a new ladder to climb. She was going to win. She was going to take back what was rightfully hers. She was not going to die. She refused. Imperium or no Imperium.]
[She shoved the gun in her pocket and started to run again.]
Hello everyone, Imperium News here! and- shit-somethings interfering with the s̴͈̺̪͙͘ḭ̶̫͇̯̬̟̈́̋̍͑̅̒ǵ̵̬̰̦̮̼̯͕̙̒n̴͖͍̜̬̻̓͗̍̅̐̉ā̷̘̹̮̻̥͍̦̇ͅḷ̴̢͓̪̺̃̅́̄-
“Hello Imperium. Not a fitting name for long, but it’ll do for now. My name’s Sam. I’m speaking to you from the Royal quarters of the Imperium spire and your ex king is currently licking the dirt from between my boots. For those of you who still have a few screens intact, feel free to watch. It makes it pretty sad, doesn’t it?
Your Imperium is over. Dahlia now belongs to King Samuel Collins.
To all my fellow mass makers out there, that feeling in your chest a while back wasn’t a fluke. We got our invocations back and I don’t know about you but I’m really enjoying getting used to the feeling of having a little army at my beck and call. So what do you say we take what’s left of this crumbling empire for ourselves, hm? I don’t wanna be lonely at the top. I believe in putting power back in the hands of the people. Or at least a select few of em. Democracy at its finest. Consider this my declination. The capital’s already mine but the rest is fair game.
And I can’t wait to see what y’all do with the place.”
[Somebody was knocking on the clinic door, fast and rthymic. It continued for a few seconds before stopping. A familiar voice could be heard slightly muffled through it.]