You Will be Snuffed Out 8/7

"A-TEN-HUT!"
(Yarrow Allaire)
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Ancelin had been idly switching between staring at his pocketwatch and staring up at the setting sun. He seemed impatient for something.

As the sound of jackboots hitting the cobblestone can be heard, the lapine sighs and hops to his feet. Shambling to the front, a slow hand gesture is swirled above him, the lieutenant calling out a rather relaxed order to the rest of the Authority.

"Look lively, people. Not too lively though. Low ready, hold fire. And hold tongues as well, please."

A small glance is given over towards Bolt, which quickly upgrades into a hard glare. That last comment was clearly intended for him.
(Ancelin)
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The brunt of the assault comes suddenly- Though Tanya, at the very least, seems entirely unsurprised. Amber eyes watch as the mechanical constructs fall from the heavens, slamming and rending cobbles where they landed. She takes a sharp, deep breath as they do so- That'd be a lot to pick up. Much to clean, after the fact.

Her eyes twist as troops storm in- Though the residents of Osrona may notice something.. Bizarre. The guards posted do not attempt to halt them. The magi standing ready to battle any threats place their weapons at their side, and entirely, Barsburg..

..Barsburg merely walks right into the heart of Esshar itself.

Quietly, Tanya counts to herself. At least five constructs- Perhaps more on the ship, or being maintained otherwise. What appeared to be more than two dozen magi, with more slowly trickling into the city, and what was likely countless non-magi armed with projectile-based firearms.

She hums, quietly, her hands moving to claspbehind her back as she looks the force over. A curious gaze twists in her eyes, and a dull smirk forms at the corner of each lips. She glances to Walter, then to the rest of the Osronan crowd-

How would they react, she wondered?

Just how would the Osronan citizenry and Authority react to the sudden influx of Barsburgian soldiers?

Anticipation racks her face, an expression the magistrate often did not wear. An eagerness to see how things would go.
(Tanya Volkova)
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 Anira was still living off of the feeling of the previous days before! With all the demons and beating them out of Osrona. However? The sudden arrival of- oh those were big constructs! Big! But? The Wolf hops off of her bench, and immediately digs her clawed hands into her satchel.

The bubbling! Volatile! Cruel red liquid of a rage potion gripped between her large and clawed fingers! But? Much like with the demon's reactions to the night before? Anira held herself back. But? Her fur bristled with anticipation, and she had already made her way towards the front. Ready to..

Rip and tear. The monstrously sized and wolfish teen pausing only when Ancelin spoke out. And thus? She did as he Ancelain told them to!

Look lively, but 'hold her fire'. The potion in her hand? Tossed from one side to the other in anticipation. For the wolf always, always inherently craved the violence which invaders bought.
(Anira)
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The oldest rodent finds herself pulling around a fresh cigarette from the carton, matchbox soon to follow out as she sparks up her light! Her nose up an shrivels at the sight of the new faces.. They certainly made an entrance alright.

She'd love to snort a line right now.. For the sheer fact that she had it on her person, the urge never truly went away.

But alas, what's the point.. She'd been told to save it for something special. So she'd shrug up, eyeing Walter at her side there. "Tout' they'd bring bigger robots.." Merely that, before gazing back into the crowd ahead, a cancerous smog emanating from her and tainting the air above. - Not as much as the machines of course!
(Misha)
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 A hand lifted valiantly, once the full charge of the Barsburgian troupe marches into the square. Surprisingly, it goes unimpeded, as if many of the streets had been cleared of bystanders beforehand. Yahoel lifts, shooting a plethora of firework-like sparks in order to call the attention of his own ranks. Likely, in an attempt to quell whatever skirmish would be about to ensue, ripping it from the root.

"Ah, how unnecessary! They certainly know how to put on a show." The kitsune emperor chants out. Thus far, having only been as serene as the Magistrate herself. The anxiety and anticipation is made obviously clear upon his countenance too, yet it seems naught to impede him from illustration.

"Well - well - well!"

The imperator finally begins the international conversation. He speaks naught to the whole gallery. Pursuing the figures of vanguard is something that takes naught a second.

Rostev and Kirill are addressed almost immediately. The elegant kitsune treading forward, stepping up to the magitech militia with nonchalance.

"About time you showed up - I see you're men of your word, after all, captains."

A simper curls at his lip. The symmetry in their uniforms may have been noted by now, they match the Authority's one for one. It comes off as obvious by now, no longer just a coincidence.

"Alas, I sure hope the seas have not been cruel to you all. center>

A radiant gaze is spared to Tanya Volkova, the Magistrate. It reeks of complicity. That same stare would loom back at the Barsburgian army, rallied up in a perfectly mirroring formation.

The imperator makes no delay in illustrating: that which was to be expected.

"I am General Walter pyr Docro. From here on out, you will be under General Tanya and I's supervision. Welcome to the Imperial City of Osrona."

His heel pivots him backwards, as he is now addressing The Authority, as well as his present body of citizenry.

"As for you all, my dearest kinsmen? Welcome to the Machine!"

 "Alas, I sure hope the seas have not been cruel to you all.

A radiant gaze is spared to Tanya Volkova, the Magistrate. It reeks of complicity. That same stare would loom back at the Barsburgian army, rallied up in a perfectly mirroring formation.

The imperator makes no delay in illustrating: that which was to be expected.

"I am General Walter pyr Docro. From here on out, you will be under General Tanya and I's supervision. Welcome to the Imperial City of Osrona."

His heel pivots him backwards, as he is now addressing The Authority, as well as his present body of citizenry.

"As for you all, my dearest kinsmen? Welcome to the Machine!"

(Walter Docro)
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 The Captain had spent the last half a year behind the walls of Osrona itself, both observing and coming to know some its denizens. With a deal struck, he had returned alongside his cohorts to lead the invasion of Osrona.

An invasion which... wasn't really an invasion to begin with, it would seem. The gates were opened without resistance, the entire battalion able to march into the square itself without gunfire.

Mechs which simply showed the height of Barsburg's military prowess, rather than displaying utter dominance.

"Not unncessary. From this day forth Osrona shall fall under the banner of the glorious Empire of Barsburg. Do not be mistaken, we are not reinforcements to bolster Osrona, that is not why we were dispatched. Our laws, our protection, our system- a seamless system at that."

The noble Captain pauses, before glancing back towards the marching mass of forces.

"Welcome to the Machine, people of Osrona. Welcome to a new age of prosperity and innovation."

Just how would his subordinates react to hearing that Walter was their new superior? A foreigner, yet they were ingrained with a sense of nationalistic pride, obedience to authority.

It was not his place to detail such information, so instead he focused upon the citizens themselves. Waiting for someone to strike, to resist.

For they would be put down swiftly.
(Rostev pyr Volyn)
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 A sudden arrival.

The breaking of cobblestone against the might of mechs as they came from the sky, the following of a cacophony of boots against the ground in a formation sounded out as platoons of Barsburg's military marches into the heart of the Shimmering City.

Unimpeded, their movement coming to a halt in-front of the growing crowd that had gathered outside of the dojo, unfamiliar and familiar faces taken in by the Captain as his hammer was loosely held within a grip.

"The Shimmering City."

Quietly he spoken, cerulean orbs scanning across the area for a moment, the sudden presence of the military brought panic, brought fear, and yet some held a calm composure that spoke volumes of what was to come.

Bolt's words gained his attention. The talk of the magitech that the Empire was known to wield causing a frown to flicker into existence for the slightest of moments to mar his looks.

But his tongue was held, more important matters to deal with than the talk of the rat.

Weapons that were pulled out were ignored by the Captain, seen as inconsequential, his eyes finally pausing upon the magistrate of the city, a stoic look placed on Tanya.

"General Tanya, General Docro."

A swift salute, the practised motion had the Captain snapping to attention as he spoke further, the title given to the Docro holding a slight tense tone towards it.

"We've arrived to begin to induct the city, and transform it into the spearhead that'll lead the Empire truly into Esshar's lands."

Short, no further did he speak as he took a step backwards to fall back in line alongside his fellow Captains.
(Kirill pyr Orlov)
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 Her face remains cool, composed and straight. She finds it in herself to show as little detail as possible. Their platoons came in a steady march, iron-clad boots resoundingly stomping harmoniously as her and her fellow captains moved with the utmost synergy. It is a show and tell of ultimate discipline and actual tact - something this ragtag force of cheese-eating, bottomfeeding magi here in Osrona likely lacked.

They were a real military.

"At ease," she said to the foot soldiers.

Now, when the forces are stopped, she offers a sidelong peer to her shorter, yet equally as adamant companion. Another smile, rare as they come, is granted to him briefly before her eyes set forth to Walter.

"It is as my associate Volyn says. We are not here to adhere to your command, my dear Osronan Imperator. They is simply assimilation into The Machine. Though furthermore--"

An eye turns to Arch, watching him snort up that intoxicating drug. She can smell the burn of it off to the side.

"There will need to be changes around here to best accommodate all of us, wouldn't you agree?"
(Yarrow Allaire)
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 Welcome to... The Machine.

And thus? The Wolf moved. Walter, Misha, and Tanya must have known! And although she knew little of Tanya? Those were the three members of her dysfunctional 'family' that she cared most for. There was no hesitance! Not an ounce of it. From hostile and dangerous? To complacent and benign. The wolf would slide the potion back into her satchel and step forward. Flanking Walter's side.

She speaks not a word. What was there to be said, no? Her devotion to the Imperator, the Commander of Rats and the Magistrate? It was infallible. Very, very little could sway her away from it.

So? With her silver cap adorned! Anira would snap her boots together! It was crude, and untrained. After all, she had only recently joined the ranks of the Authority, even if she had risen quite quickly and recently through it.

"At your command, Imperator.. General Docro." She says respectively. Nothing else is said from there. Anira had made her side in this stake very, very clear.

And that? Was whichever side Walter stood by.
(Anira)



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 Well! If Misha wasn't going to do it? With the jack-boots of the Barsgurian empire at the door? What better time then the present to do a line-...

Admittedly-- The disbelief and eyes turning to him? Maybe it was ill-timing.

Either way, the courier took a swift bow before shooting Walter a glance. "So that letter wasn't bullshittin', huh?"
(Arch)
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 The revelation is already made, the motions of Walter pretty much and entirely proclaiming their allegiances.. Especially with the Captains behind him speaking their own piece. Slowly, Tanya inhales, bringing a hand up to slowly adjust the cap that sat atop her head.

It's almost unfitting, the smile that she wears, to any that knew the Magistrate. She walks so utterly casually, each step ahead of the other, hips practically swaying with abundant cockiness that it seems almost entirely like a different person entirely has taken her body.

She hums, quietly, taking a stand before the rest of the Barsburgian crowd, looking them all over. A finger trails upwards, pressing against her lips at she thinks them over, gauges them. A decent enough force. The Barsburgian Empire didn't spare any expense- They even sent some skinsuits that would almost entirely be rendered useless soon, without their charging method.

A way to break dissent before it started, she presumed.

Slowly, she nods to each of the Captains in turn, and then twists about beside of Walter, almost bumping him ever so slightly as a relatively playful gesture. She inhales, slowly, her eyes closing. Both hands move behind her back, clasping together and interlacing fingers. She looks back to Osrona- The people who trusted her, and whom followed her for so many years.

How would they respond, she wondered? Would they buckle? This was likely going to be quite the change, after all.

"..Nine years ago, I was sent to Osrona on a suicide mission as one Lieutenant Tanya Volkova. That mission was to scour intelligence and find a backdoor for Barsburg to begin their assault into Esshar. Funny. Of the entirety of the ones sent, here I am; The one remaining member. It is for that reason that I would like to personally introduce myself to you all, Osrona. And to you as well, Barsburg."

She brings a fist to her lips, coughing and clearing her throat.

"My name, and what you will refer to me going forwards, is General Tanya pyr Volkova. Field promoted and set to lead this spearheaded assault force inot the heart of Esshar proper. As of today, you are ALL hereby part of the Machine. Part of our wonderful Empire. This is non negotiable, you understand. Our customs will be posted shortly. You will all be assigned ranks. Shortly."

She inhales, slowly, standing proud, firm, tall, just before the Captains of the Barsburg empire. How long had this been planned out? How long had Tanya been pretending she was someone she wasn't?

The whole time, if her words were to be believed. Played like a fiddle.

"Welcome to the Machine, Osrona. It's a pleasure to have you all."
(Tanya Volkova)
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[18:34] Each step caused the paved road to crack by the mech, their weight unfathomable to the average person. Within minutes of entering the city, they had trudged to the square, stationing behind the rank and file corporals. Magi-tech hands were placed at his sides, a enormous gun noticeable upon their back.

"Lieutenant Batu, Hail to The Machine." In one loud-speaker enhanced statement, they spoke, the visor of their mech noticeably moving to stare straight at Walter. Their new General? It interested him momentarily, only for him to move away and look off towards the residents of Osrona.
(Batu)
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 The azure mech baring the kind of heavy rifle only a mad fool who wanted to shoot a dragon out of a sky might carry on hand scans the expanse of the new imperial capital of occupation with a sense of brimming excitement. While the metal could hardly betray emotion, it appeared to fidget about constantly as more and more of the city was taken in.

It was good to be home.

Within the confines of the scholarly mech's chassis, the young Lieutenant-Attache to Orlov's Diamond Eagles was in the midst of shaving with a hand mirror, eating a rare steak, having his morning tasting of brandy, and all the while enjoying the view from within the comfortable confines of his expensive military technology.

"The air smells sweet and full of opportunity! This is not an invasion, my fear fellows. This is the beginning of a golden age of advancement! Rejoice, science marches forward this day!"
(Gallagher Hoss)
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 A very short, sickly rodent stares over all she can see before her.. More keeping up the front so she can.. Actually see anything for that matter. The ones at the front getting the full weight of it, though it'd probably go unseen.- Cold, dead, fish-eyes, learning..-

"Don' they all look s'young..~" Cigarette pinched before she spoke.

And Tanya stepping up.. Oh boy. - It prompts a step up from the scummy rat, not daring to pass Walter.. But close enough. A lean is followed with that, one of her hands going up to press against the rat's own nose to mash it inward only slightly.

Implying something, all for Tanya.
(Misha)
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 Thunderous crashes echo in ceremonious praise to their arrival- and it feels far too good for it's own right to be arriving in thus such fashion. With theatric flair and bemusing mixtures of awe and candid fear from the populace to the many-years now suffering city. That's her debrief, anyway- that these are a stupid, struggling people lead before only by incompetence and foolishness, clinging to past ways and old empires when they had forsaken their own only ways to have ever in the past been any such deterrence from a day like today.

But that was how low that Esshar had fallen, that Barsburg was now more a savior than a conqueror. And that was what she was. One who would introduce a better life to these unknowingly oppressed individuals and peoples previously trapped in the monotony of a hopelessly circular life, with no hope of ever truly progressing themselves as they had tried to through all previous means.

They just had, until nownot met The Machine. She, along with so many others, were happily to finally rectify that for so many poor Osronans.

"Lieutenant Awilix Zero."

The hulking mechanoid rings out through some external, crystal clear and with no such static or misinterpretation of her distinctly cutting, seriously toned voice. The glint of her obsessively well-polished mech betrays naught a hint of what else lies within, but it is so clearly toned with an emotion approaching pride that no machine should so cleanly replicate.

"Welcome to the start of the rest of your lives. It'll be fun."

But it would never be the same.
(Awilix Zero)
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 The hulking mass of metal in the shape of a robot marched through the streets just as much as the others. Still, different from the other ones, Nero's specific robot had an incessant chattering about activity signals that was mouthed in occasion towards the fellow lieutenants.

The visor moved towards Walter for the most part, but it seemed to take a moment to stare around at the city of Osrona as a whole. Luckily or not, what mattered is that the expression and the reaction was not instantly visible to those around him.

Breaking amidst the sound of riveting machinery, the engineer's baritone comes out of the speaker. "The air certainly smells of something, Gallagher."

A moment of silence, before the speaker once again turns to some of the civilians. The weapons in their hands seem to be handled with not much caution, the repeating machinegun rotating in the bulky hand, but in just a moment...

"Lieutenant Nero pyr Aertas."

"Welcome to a glorious future."
(Nero pyr Aertas)
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"Silly."

The imperator playfully mouths in response to Yarrow. Certainly, he was the only one of the frontline not in on it.

"There are no changes to be discussed. The lot of them have been sorted out by the General and myself. Who, mind you - shares the same rank and liege as I. Be the cog you say you are, we can make this go more smoothly."

There's an overwhelming tint of smugness to it all, yet it is hardly something that should be taken note of. This is simply him at his best. A nimbus of noxious, charred nicotine escapes the clockwork-hearted kitsune's mouth, much like a chimney erupting smoke.

"You'd do wrong in underestimating me. Observe."

The edge in the Barsburgian troops is notable in some cases, less so in others - who seem to embrace the idea more leniently, but this keeps him unphased regardless. The General's left hand, now raised in a calling to attention, regards his own men with the same decour he had made common language.
"People of Osrona! We have survived for long. Haven't we?

We've been chained, shackled to a meager existence by the very same harbingers that saw this city torn to ashes."

Bombasticism lingers, it's his one true redeeming trait. A silver tongue so strong it could stop a bullet.

"The coalition, hung us to that which is inherently petty. Taxed us into starvation, into famine, for well over a decade!

All for the purpose of fighting back Barsburg from entering."

Walter's smile is contented, ever mindful. He sympathizes, he knew of the limits.

"Today, we evolve past that. We rid ourselves of that same ceiling.

The Imperial City of Osrona's allegiance is hereby bound to the Barsburgian mainland. You all should rejoice, embrace this. Our need for survival has ended.

From here on out, we thrive."
(Walter pyr Docro)
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A stare is granted towards Walter once he said that. No, no. He still doesn't seem to understand. She had once said something that would make her hope that she'd be able to abide by the General, but there were clear problems - clear things that would only make things not go smoothly. A sigh is given.

"A machine has cogs, yes-yes," she said.

"Each cog cranks effectively in constant motion, moving in unison and symphony. However, there is already a problem. That problem would be..

You.

You and your men," she said.

Her eyes turn towards the Razuka, the wildlings and the like.

"Drug peddlers, lack of decorum, no real training, they're-- they're..

Little more than vagrants right now. However, do understand-- truly that they can be made into something more. Proper guidance, instruction and real example by me, my most esteemed General, my fellow Captains, and my loyal men can they become something more. So, do understand.."

Her eyes went sharp.

"We don't play by your game.

We make the rules."
(Yarrow Allaire)
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"We are cogs in the Empire's machine, yes, not your machine."

Rostev speaks sharply, quickly coming in to back up his fellow Captain. He knew her, he had worked alongside her, the same for his men.

Did he know Walter? Did he respect Walter? Could he respect someone who acted as if they were a mere part of his master plan?

No, not at all.

"This is not a batch of reinforcements. We have not been dispatched to bolster your forces in the slightest. We are here to conquer, to invade and bring about a new era off technological progress."

Gaze shifting to his REAL General now.

"I think they need to be reminded what this is exactly, General Volkova."
(Rostev pyr Volyn)
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 Olivia slowly brings a hand to her chin, head tilting upward, mouth open slightly in an expression of sheer curiosity - broken only by an irritated glance in Bolt's direction, briefly.
(Olivia Docro)
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 Gallagher Hoss whispers: I realize now we should have put rat ears on our battle-suits Lieutenant Zero. PERFECT. URBAN. CAMOFLAGE.

 The oldest in the crowd of soldiers at the front line remained silent, his eyes now fixated on Captain Allaire. The bright red, half-machine oculars then travelled to the self-proclaimed foreign General. He, for one, saw no problem in someone so instrumental in their infiltration of the Essharan capitol in being rewarded for their self-subjugation.

There'd be no emotion on his face regarding the matter, but he'd not speak to either end. It wasn't his place. He was here to bring down whomever the Machine required him to.
(Redmond Dalton)
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 Walter pyr Docro says, "Yes, that much is obvious, thank you for repeating yourself."


 Kirill's lids blinked. The words of Yarrow cause his head to turn, shifting his attention towards the woman as she continued to speak further about her thoughts on the matter.

Words that caused a small resonation within the scion. Previous thoughts that were held seemingly spoken into existence by the woman as his orbs moved towards the crowd.

Moved towards the disruptive, undisciplined group that was to become a part of the Machine. Only now did he further, truly see the nature of those that were to become inducted into the machine.

Bolt's outburst causing his eyes to remain, further solidifying the poor opinion that festered.

"Breach of decorum indeed. General Tanya I believe things should be.. properly spoken of and laid out."
(Kirill pyr Orlov)
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Anira shifted behind Walter. Normally? The Wolf would not speak. But her feral gaze shifts towards Yarrow. "You know how machines work. I'd assume so! Your lot seems really, really good with them." Her voice came out with a hum, slowly. "When you introduce new parts and wheels, you ease them in. Test them." And then, the wolf's lips twist into a snarl of a smile.

"What you don't do? Shove a stick into the cogs and go 'Oh my goodness! How could someone else have fucked everything up?'" She'd wheeze and crackle. A chuckle much like Misha's own. But?

The moment of talk was dispersed. And instead? She awaited. The girl was more than open to becoming a part of the cogs. But? Should someone opt to jam a metal pipe and break the pieces down?

There was no point in backing a broken machine. When the likes of Walter and Misha, was the grease that let them function smoothly.
(Anira)
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 That, then, is enough to cause her to clear her throat. Her gaze pulls back to Yarrow, a singular hand holding up as if to calm them, or perhaps placate them in the moment. Her eyes are fierce, strong, but there's still that burning, awful smile that's so out of place on her visage entirely.

"Easy, now, Captain Yarrow. The Empire wasn't built in a single day. New citizens and soldiers recruited through these means aren't brought in and reformed in a single day. Sometimes it takes months, or years. I would not have invited Barsburg here on such good terms if I did not believe them all capable of being recruited."

She brings her hand up, resting it gently against Yarrow's shoulder, something almost threatening burning behind that smile. She grins, wide, before turning back around to Walter, pressing that same hand against the Imperator-now-General's shoulder.

And she nods, gently.

"It is how things are, Walter. Your current roster of folk are.. Unbridled. A shame to say, many of my men likely see them as unwashed masses. Potential wrenches thrown into the spinning cogs. It's as we talked about the other night. We are still partners, General Docro. The both of us will work together for the better of Barsburg. For the better of Osrona."

She pulls her gaze upwards, casting a short cursory glance back to the Captain's, towards the rest of the Barsburg army. Then, slowly, she shrugs.

"As mentioned. There are important things to realize. Requirements to being, by proxy, part of the Machine. You will not lose your personal identities. But like a piece of steel, in order to ensure it is to the highest quality, there are.. Impurities. That will need to be stamped out. Impurities that I'm certain you can see in your own men. As I can still see them in mine."

She nods, gently, then extends a hand outwards, slowly, towards Walter. It's an offer for a handshake, it would seem, as they did the other day.

"You remain in power. As we spoke about, your Authority- Or, Misha's? Retains their proper ranks. There will be hard tidings in pooling together our new lives. Your new lives. I am not saying all of this will be easy. While I do not agree with Captain Yarrow's lack of decorum when dealing with new guests, however, there is one thing that we agree on."

The hand is offered further, higher. A show of goodwill, perhaps. A notion that they could progress together, if Osrona would take that offer.

"..Osrona can become molded into something great. We ask only that you let us in. And that you let yourselves become part of the Machine."
(Tanya pyr Volkova)
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 Gallagher appeared to be more focused on eating his mid-day steak and taking in the sights to feel any sort of consternation, but then, he wasn't a soldier by trade! He was a BIG GAME HUNTER. And a scholar, and also an OFFICER OF THE MACHINE. There would be time for chafing in the chain of command, but right now this was show time! Luckily he had plenty of brandy and cigars. Life was good.
(Gallagher Hoss)
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The rodent holds her mouth there.. Though she can't seem to hold the laughter in all that long..- It escapes every now and then. - Her cheeks fill.. They actually go a little red, which was unusual for her sickly skin.

"Pfft..- Ha..-" She'd try her hardest, eyes squinting shut and head bowing down.. The sight of those in front.. Did they know where they were?

"First time they get .. Pft .. Invited in .. . Pft. - n' THEY SEND T'KIDS?!" Coughing follows, Mish's hand waving up and away at all those in front..

"Most'em won't last a day out'ere, look at'em!" More.. Again, directed at our dear Tanya. Her cigarette is then pinched away and flicked off, the rat going to wipe her small hand down her gob at the mere second thought of it all.

Someone who cared really little for her rank.. But how those present seemed to see everything. Welcome to Osrona, you're meeting a rat.
(Misha)
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Familiar-... Arch often absorbed information through passive-observation; he could scantily recall catching glimpses of those faces prior to the present. The Machine -- That note that the courier intercepted that spelled out the possibly of Barsburg's involvement with Osrona

Disregarded and surrendered.

What had he done?

Arch's grin faltered, the reality of the situation hit hard. He couldn't speak out against it. The concepts of right and wrong never truly clicked- It was all about survival...

Myllenoris. Theria. Osrona.

Allegiance was never taken. Loyalty never held.

Tensions steadily rose, and his gaze wandered between Walter and the Barsburgian forces. "Walter-... You let snakes slither inta' a city full of rats. What did you expect..?"
(Arch)
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 "Uh-huh."

Smoke is puffed once more, lethargy in expression, in a stark contrast from his prior masquerade of bombastic flare and imposing behavior just seconds earlier. Walter seems naught hesitant - everything that's being said are merely restatements of that which had been made obvious.

"Perhaps, you underestimate their strength in flexibility.

But I'm hardly a man of uncompromising ethics when it comes to pursuing the next echelon.

You know that better than anyone else.

Is your whole ethos not surrounding that exact same premise? To fall into optimal structure is all but a hard bargain."

Black gloved hands clap exactly twice, as the General turns to his troops once more.

For a second, even he sounds like a machine. The loud, metallic clicks of a clockwork machine resonate in the nearby vicinity, to all those he'd rule under.

"In case I wasn't clear enough?" Unapologetically. "You will not resist the somatization. Instead, we'll merge into the preexisting force of state.

Trust it will be in your best interests in the long run."

What was control, if not for it?

"Embrace the machine. Live by it.

This is your home now. You are part of Barsburg.

… otherwise...?"

Droning, the ticking drowns out all stimuli. Something that rings as both transhumane and inherently human resonates from Walter's visage.

"... you will be snuffed out."
(Walter pyr Docro)
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 Gallagher Hoss says, "AH, A SCHOLAR OF REFINEMENT AND TASTE. LARGE WORDS, I FEEL RIGHT AT HOME."

 Any potential hostility in Anira faded away when Walter spoke up. Some of the words he'd said? She actually didn't know or understand at all! But, it was where he went that mattered. And so? Anira would join the Barsburgian formation...

The only thing that showed her difference? Being the once-human's fur which covered her skin. Otherwise...

She blended in. Apart of the autonomous crowd of soldiers.
(Anira)
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