Within the Union States, the High Senate—the most powerful governing body in the nation—was in the midst of a vote.

The Senate floor was constructed as a vast amphitheater, designed in the shape of a funnel with multiple tiers. Each of these elevated levels featured curved tables to match the shape of the room where representatives from the various states that comprised the entire union sat. The arrangement created a sense of both grandeur and order, with each state's delegates clearly visible from every angle, contributing to the overall unity of the chamber.

At the heart of the chamber, on the lowest level, stood a massive table that dominated the space. Seated at this central table was an older man with thinning gray hair, dressed impeccably in a formal suit. This was Speaker Hobb, a figure that operated as a sort of referee for the Senate. His primary duty was to maintain decorum, ensuring that debates remained civil and that mudslinging among senators was kept to a minimum. In addition to this, the speaker held the responsibility of announcing the results of any votes taken on proposed bills. At this particular moment, Hobb was engaged in precisely that task. He prepared to deliver the outcome of the latest vote.

Hobb: “The voting period for motion 7AL2, the Gix military intervention, is finished. The votes have been counted and are 557 against, 46 for, and 12 that have abstained. The motion has failed and will not be adopted. The Union States current military policy in relation to Gix will remain the same. With that, today's session is concluded,” the speaker said, followed by him banging a gavel against the desk in front of him.

The sharp crack of the gavel reverberated through the vast chamber, signaling the end of the session. All six hundred members of the High Senate rose from their seats, filing out of the room one by one with the deliberateness of a regular routine for them. Amidst the steady stream of departing senators, one man remained seated, his posture slumped and his gaze distant. He lingered, lost in thought, with a look of defeat etched on his face.

This senator, with his short brown hair and formal suit, blended in with many of his colleagues, yet in that moment, he stood apart. His name was Fred Joose, a representative from Golgatta and one of only forty six who had cast a vote in favor of the controversial bill.

Fred: “Not surprising. No one wants to touch Gix with a hundred foot pole. And, I can’t blame them.”

Female: “That went as well as we expected.”

Fred turned his head to the side and noticed a fellow senator standing nearby. She wore a simple white shift dress, her salt-and-pepper hair neatly styled, exuding an air of authority and professionalism. This was Senator Carla Hova, a representative from Balor, another state within the Union.

Fred: “Ugh, might be worse. We got even less votes this time since when we first initially brought this motion forward.”

Carla: “There’s no helping this. No one wants to get involved with Gix,” she said, followed by a deep sigh. “Let's go talk to Arnold about this.”

Fred acknowledged Carla with a nod and fell in step behind her. Together, they made their way off the Senate floor, merging into the flow of departing senators. However, unlike most of their colleagues who headed toward the main entrance to exit the building, Fred and Carla took a different path. They veered into a quieter hallway that led to a series of private meeting rooms, reserved for more discreet discussions.

As they walked, they passed a dozen of these rooms, until they arrived at room A-12. Standing guard in front of the door was a USSM (Union Secret Service Mage) officer, easily recognizable by the imposing black robes and face mask that covered his form.

USSM officer: “The president is inside. You may enter.”

Both senators gave a brief nod to the Union Secret Service Mage before stepping inside the room. The door closed softly behind them, sealing off the hallway's noise. Inside, they were greeted by the sight of an older man seated at the head of a long, polished table. He was impeccably dressed in a sharp blue suit and tie, his glasses reflecting the room's dim lighting. His well-groomed beard added an air of authority and confidence to his appearance. The atmosphere in the room was tense, the weight of the discussion to come evident in the man's steady, focused gaze as he awaited the arrival of the senators.

The man sitting here was Arnold Baxton, the current sitting president of the Union States.

Arnold: “I see the vote has failed again.”

Carla: “I’m sorry Arnold, but it’s a hard sell,” she said while taking a seat beside the president.

Fred: “We tried our best, but not enough people were moved by our arguments,” he said while taking a seat across from Carla.

Arnold: “I know. It’s an uphill battle for us. But, I wish they would see reason. The civil war in Gix is causing a refugee crisis here, and I remain unconvinced that the conflict within Gix will remain in Gix. We should be proactive and do something about it.”

Fred: “But sending our military into Gix and trying to stabilize it, is just not a popular prospect for average people.”

Carla: “A lot of the representatives in the senate know they’ll lose their seat if they approve any military intervention in Gix.”

Arnold: “We got cowards on one side, and peace lovers that can’t see the problems coming down the line on the other.”

Carla: “It’s also been thirty five years since this civil war has been going on. I think if intervention was proposed closer to when it started, it might have been easier to get something done. But, people have become numb to the conflict of the Warring States and don’t want us to take action unless the conflict expands into our territories.”

Arnold: “Mark my words, this conflict will expand into the Union. This is a failure of my predecessor, President Yavis. I’m sure the wait and see approach made the most sense at the time, but we waited too long and now we’re paralyzed to do anything. It was foolish to think that Gix would resolve their internal strife when the Endless War cult is clearly involved. Because of course those warmongers would do everything to prolong this conflict, it’s in their fucking name.”

Fred: “You could always use the war measures act and circumvent the senate.”

The War Measures Act was a special provision granting the president extraordinary powers, allowing them to bypass the Senate and assume full control of the government. Reserved for moments when swift, decisive action was deemed essential for the survival of the nation. It was a tool of last resort.

Arnold: “Yeah, right. That’s political suicide and literal suicide. The senate would never go along with that. If I invoke the war measures act and bypass the senate to launch a military operation against Gix, the senate will strip me of my position as president. And, that will also open me up to war crimes charges and potential death sentencing. It’s not happening.”

Carla: “I must ask, why are you so worried about the conflict in Gix all of sudden. Has something changed?”

Arnold: “It’s not one thing. There are just too many unstable elements that have recently arisen that have the potential to pour gas on the fire that is Gix right now. “

Carla: “Like?”

Arnold: “The church of Light is one. There is a leadership race going on in that organization that seems to have devolved into complete chaos. And, it seems that chaos gave rise to the purifiers, a radical group that broke off from the witch hunters. Which by the way, I will need you two or someone else to bring a motion forward to label them as an illegal guerrilla group.”

Carla: “That should be easy. They are literally reports of them burning people alive in some isolated communities in the Union. Probably by next few weeks they’ll be labeled as an illegal organization.”

Arnold: “Good. Then there are the Seers of Argon. They have all gone into seclusion and no one can get a hold of them. No one knows what that means. And, it’s making people very antsy.”

Fred: “There are some politicians that heavily rely on the foresight of those seers to make some policy decisions.”

Arnold: “I know, it’s annoying, those politicians refuse to make any substance policy decision until the Seers come out of seclusion. It slows everything down. Then there is that weird religious order from the eastern continent. They have been showing up in droves all over the Union States in the last little while.”

Carla: “Um, I haven't heard much about this group.”

Arnold: “That’s not surprising. There has been no major incident with them since they showed up. I think they’re called the Thousand Eye Order. It sounds a little culty to me, but the secret service have been keeping an eye on them and assured me they haven’t found anything dangerous or suspicious of them, yet. Finally the icing on the cake to top it off, the Giants have made a request to me.”

Upon hearing that both Carla and Fred had their mouths agape.

The giants dwelled in the massive Toegorea Mountains and had almost no contact with humans. Historically, any interaction between the two species had always been initiated by humans, who sought out the giants for their ancient knowledge. Never in recorded history had a giant sought out a human or made a request of them. That is, until now.

Arnold: “This is all of course highly confidential, this information can not leave this room. Especially about the giants. Understood?”

Both Fred and Carla nodded.

Fred: “Um, so what did the giants ask of you?”

Arnold: “They asked for—”