Summoning A Fallen America

Chapter 17: The Black Dragon of the Sea

November 18th, 1639 (2066). Gras Valkas Empire Information Bureau, Ragna.

The row of electronic receivers beeped relentlessly. One could easily mistake them for emitting Morse code, but the pattern was actually different.

"Deja vu?" A man in a sharp glittering suit said under his breath as he swore that he had given a similar report five or six times before, regardless he pushed on. "Your Excellency, we've just received an update from a local informant in Rodenius." There it was again. A sense of Deja vu for a moment that never happened in his life.

"Meaning?"

The supposed emperors (i don't know if he is) words then revigorated him as he remembered he couldn't point out his nagging sense of familiarity. "Y-yes sir. Recently the Post-American nation of the Californian Empire has uh... sent arms to Qua-Toyne in order to prevent a second Louria from emerging..." The man then sweated bullets as Deja vu and anxiety combination gnawed on the man like two pit-bulls against a toddler, which was a shit analogy but I'll go with it. He then breathed in a raspy breath as 

The supposed emperor then saw the man not move a single inch as he sweated hard. "Hmm? What's wrong?" The man addressed by 'Your Excellency' asked as he obviously noticed the mans nervousness. "I apologize your excellency, but the rest of the reports are in a suitcase that will be handed to you by my coworker. I need a doctors visit since I'm suffering a..." The daunting anxiety unfortunately got the worker too early as he suffered a panic attack. 

"A?" The supposed emperor then watched as the man fell and collapsed. "What the hell!? Alright, someone get him to a hospital!" Soon after a medic rushed into the scene and faced the panicked man. "Augh..." The medic then looked up with a neutral face as the sharp suited man spasmed on the floor every fourth second, clearly unfit to even be in the room. "He just had a stroke, probably Alaskan based Mandela Syndrome. Its going to be two weeks in the hospital at least." The medic said as he dragged the poor man out of the room.

After awhile another man who was presumably the coworker walked into the room and gave the briefcase to the supposed emperor, from there he read it. "Hmm, I guess the signs are everywhere. Alaska and their allies are going to declare war on the Parpaldian Empire soon. But still, I am interested in the Republic of New Canteria, or rather the so-called Empire of the Far-East." 

After going through a general report, he then saw a detailed report about the aforementioned 'empire'. Though the report were based off of Alaskan military personnel so dramatization might be expected.

"The Republic of New Canteria is the top superpower from the world where Post-America originated, usually being seen at the top-right of most maps before the transference of Post-America to the New World, they have a vast and advanced military that exceeds some nations military capabilities, often being cited as decades ahead of their time...", "I see they have something in common with us then, like how we were ahead back in Yggdra."

"Furthermore, after analyzing information given by interviews to Alaskan troops, we've deducted that New Canteria uses space ships-" The supposed emperor then stopped in the middle of reading. "Did I see that right?" He then reread the page a good two times before looking back up. "No, that has to be some bullshit." He then said as he then put the documents back in its respective briefcase and put it to the side, intending to return them for review later on.

Northern Rodenius Sea.

A black haired man donning a captains cap and a white uniform stared at the sky, smoking as he was thinking of who knows what. "The sight almost makes you think that this is the Pacific Ocean, eh?" The former radio operator of the ANS Armageddon said to himself as he leaned back on a 150mm gun. He then put the ashes of the cigarette on an ashtray, which was on the counterweight of the turret.