[The Ursus Empire shall implement the following measures within forty-eight hours.
1. Prohibit all publications intended to incite hatred or contempt toward the Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics or those manifesting opposition to the preservation of its territorial integrity.
2. Immediately dissolve all organizations engaged in subversive propaganda against the Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics, such as the Department for the Protection of Public Order and Safety (Okhrana), and confiscate all means of propaganda at their disposal.
3. Eliminate, without delay, all public educational activities within Ursus that oppose the Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics.
4. Purge from the entirety of the military and administrative apparatus all individuals who participated in the Ursus Civil War.
5. Accept the cooperation of representatives from the Government of the Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics within Ursus to facilitate the elimination of subversive activities opposing unification with the Ursus Soviet Socialist Republic.
6. The Ursus Empire shall abolish the monarchy, depose the Emperor, and immediately initiate the transfer of power to the Government of the Ursus Republic.
7. Immediately release all political prisoners.
8. Report to the Government of the Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics without delay regarding the execution of the aforementioned measures.
The Government of the Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics expects the reply of the Ursus Empire by noon on July 28.]
[The Ursus Empire rejects the proposal of the Union.]
[Birmingham, Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics, July 28, 1085
Since the Ursus Empire has failed to provide a satisfactory response to the demands communicated on July 26, 1085, through the UTSSR Ambassador in Diete Grivaiburg, the Union Government and the Republic Government find themselves compelled to safeguard their rights and interests by their own means.
To achieve this objective, the respective nations must resort to arms and force.
Consequently, the Government of the Union of Terra Soviet Socialist Republics hereby notifies the Government of the Ursus Empire that it is now in a state of war.]
*****************************
"Ah, O Red Flower,
Grant her to me.
We shall not forget our vow,
And the Republic shall endure forever!"
The thunderous anthem of the Ursus Republican Army echoed alongside the rhythmic cadence of marching boots.
The Ursus Republican Army began massing at the border under the orders of the STAVKA.
Had such an order been given to the armies of Columbia, Victoria, or the Gallic Republic, the response likely would have been a hesitant: 'The restoration of Ursus is necessary, but must it be me?' Here in the Union, however, this was Ursus.
The generals of the Ursus Republican Army—men forged in hatred and contempt for the Empire—assembled at the frontier with a speed that defied belief, moving in accordance with the Supreme Command's directives.
Their momentum was comparable to that of Olympic sprinters.
"The STAVKA has spoken! Sweep away the Imperial dogs!"
Then came the order to strike the Empire.
No further elaboration was required; the mere word 'attack' was enough to move the Republican generals to tears of grim joy.
Half of them were men who had already lost their homes to the monarchy.
For a decade, they had endured the bitterness of exile, licking the gall of defeat while meticulously drafting operational plans against the Empire.
They did not hesitate.
"Fire! Fire!"
"Do not spare the rockets!"
Thousands of multiple-launch rocket systems and heavy field guns opened their maws in unison.
— Fshshshsh-boom!
"Adjust the firing angle!"
"There will be no second chances! The hour of liberation has come!"
Rockets and shells plunged into the earth.
Gunpowder and steel tore through the limbs of ill-fated conscripts, civilians, and officers alike.
And then, the Sky Knights took flight.
"Easier than the drills!"
"Is this even a battle? It feels more like a cull!"
The airborne units strafed the ground with six-barreled rotary cannons, turning the reinforcing Imperial local reserves into bloody sieves.
Even the formidable Ursus Sarkaz mercenaries collapsed, lethally wounded by the hail of aerial bombs.
A storm of lead and high explosives swept through the Ursus Imperial fortifications.
Then, the next echelon arrived.
"Sing the Anthem of the Shock Troops!"
"Long live the 4th Shock Army!"
The Shock Armies were organized according to the theory of Deep Operations.
This doctrine necessitated massive aerial and artillery strikes against the enemy's defensive depth, coupled with the extensive deployment of armored forces.
Attack units would punch through the tactical defensive zones, assaulting the enemy's entire defense simultaneously to achieve complete encirclement and annihilation—ferociously transforming tactical breakthroughs into operational triumphs.
Ten years of preparation ensured that this hammer blow landed with surgical precision.
"Surrender! We surrender!"
"Die, you filthy Re—"
What remained were those who threw up their hands and those who were no longer an obstacle. Even the squad-sized remnants missed by the artillery, aircraft, and Shock Armies were swiftly mopped up by the following infantry divisions reinforcing the front.
Three hours after the war began, the Imperial border guard was no more.
*********************************
Diete Grivaiburg.
In the War Room of the Imperial Palace, a map lay spread across a grand table, punctuated by red pins being hammered rapidly along the border.
An officer in a lavish, decorated uniform finished his report.
"The Union's 4th Shock Army has pierced our border defenses. The 12th Imperial Reserve Corps is, for all intents and purposes, annihilated."
Silence fell for a moment.
The first to speak was Witte Islyam Witt.
Chairman of the Imperial Duma and Prime Minister.
"Faster than anticipated," he remarked.
There was no trace of shock in his voice. His tone was merely that of a man whose calculations had been slightly misaligned.
"It is of no consequence," said Grand Duke Baikal.
A man of massive build and commander of an entire army group, the Grand Duke was a staunch member of Duke Kashchey's faction. He placed a finger on the map.
"The Republican Army believes they have achieved a breakthrough. However, the center of their depth is hollow."
His finger traced a line northward.
"The moment our main forces arrive here, the front will grind to a halt."
He added a single word.
"Three days."
The Emperor asked quietly, "Are you certain, Grand Duke?"
Emperor Fyodor Vladimirovich's voice was calm. Despite being a young monarch, he betrayed no emotion.
Grand Duke Baikal bowed his head. "Your Majesty, we shall commit the Imperial Central Army and the Guard."
He emphasized the final term. "The Emperor's Blades."
The air in the War Room grew heavy. The Emperor's Blades were more than just the palace guard; they were the indisputable elite of the Imperial military—a force of legend, the final dagger the Empire kept hidden until the end.
"Then the front will stabilize," Prime Minister Witte said, turning a page of his documents. "The Republican Army will undoubtedly trumpet this 'victory' loudly. But the breakthrough will stall, and..."
He paused. "The Union will be satisfied."
The Emperor looked up. "Satisfied?"
Witte smiled thinly. "Yes, Your Majesty. They do not truly desire a war of attrition."
He tapped a date on a nearby calendar. "September."
"The General Election."
It was then that a man who had been standing silently in the shadows chuckled.
"Precisely stated."
He was a man in a pristine white coat: Duke Kashchey.
The head of the Okhrana and the immortal Black Snake. His voice was smooth, though laced with a subtle, mocking undertone.
"The politics of the Union are truly fascinating," he said slowly. "They start a war, declare a victory, and then they hold a vote."
Grand Duke Baikal snorted. "Is that what those paupers call 'democracy'?"
Kashchey shrugged. "It is their way. Though," he added, "it is remarkably efficient."
Kashchey peered down at the map. "The Union is not conducting a war right now."
His finger moved along the border. "They are conducting an election campaign."
Several officers in the room grimaced. Kashchey continued unperturbed. "The military secures its budget, the politicians secure their votes, and the press sells a crisis for profit. The citizens consume it all like opium."
He looked at the Emperor. "A most civilized war."
"And us?" the Emperor asked softly.
The corners of Kashchey's mouth curled. "We simply dance according to their script."
He held up three fingers. "Three days. We need only endure for three days."
His eyes glittered. "The front will stabilize, they will declare triumph, and then..."
Kashchey grinned. "They will propose peace negotiations."
A momentary silence followed. The Emperor nodded slowly.
"Very well," he said. "Deploy the Central Army."
Grand Duke Baikal saluted. "The Emperor's Blades..."
The Emperor considered for a moment. "If necessary."
As the meeting adjourned, Kashchey walked to the window. He looked out over the night of Diete Grivaiburg. From the distant horizon, a sound like faint thunder reached his ears.
He murmured, "The Union's politicians... truly entertaining people."
He gave a short, quiet laugh. "However..."
His gaze darkened. "I wonder how long they can remain in control of this dance."
Before long, the distant thunder ceased, leaving only a cold, hollow silence in Kashchey's ears.
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