-Hell on Earth-

The city of Iscar, Marley's sprawling capital, which is is also the world capital. gleamed under the relentless sun. Its towering skyscrapers reflected a veneer of prosperity and order, masking the tangled web of politics and fear that lay beneath. MIRA's headquarters sat at the city's heart, a fortress of steel and glass, where Commander Dietrich prepared to launch his campaign for re-election.

The world's stratocratic government was a peculiar beast, a remnant of a bygone era where survival had outweighed ideals. Generations of militarized leadership had eroded the boundaries between governance and war. The two major factions, The Iron Vanguard and The Crimson Standard, competed for dominance in an elaborate game of power.

Dietrich, a member of The Crimson Standard, had risen to the pinnacle of authority. His vision was one of unification and expansion, but behind closed doors, his motives were far more shadowy. The Crimson Blade mission, a clandestine operation of unknown purpose to the public, was his obsession. To ensure its continuity, he needed to secure another term as the world's de facto leader.

His closest ally in this endeavor was General Charles Ross, known by most as " General Cheese" for reasons no one dared to question openly. Together, they crafted a campaign strategy built on stability, economic growth, and the promise of maintaining peace—a fragile veneer over the escalating tensions brewing in the shadows.

--

Inside his opulent office, Dietrich scrutinized a map of the known world. Paradise Island, marked as "Devil's Island," loomed ominously in the far corner. The public was forbidden from even speaking of it, let alone venturing near. Yet it remained a silent reminder of humanity's darkest secrets.

The door opened, and General Ross entered, his expression as calm and calculated as always.

"Commander," Ross said, saluting briefly before taking a seat. "The governors of Hizuru have expressed doubts about your re-election. They claim the public wants a shift toward the Iron Vanguard's agenda."

Dietrich smirked. "Of course they do. Hizuru thrives on industrial expansion. The Iron Vanguard would let them strip the planet dry in exchange for short-term gains."

"Public sentiment is hard to sway when peace has bred complacency," Ross replied.

"They don't see the necessity of our work."

"They will," Dietrich said, his tone icy. "When the time is right, they will beg for our leadership."

Ross leaned forward, lowering his voice. "And the Crimson Blade mission?"

Dietrich's eyes narrowed. "It proceeds as planned. But we say nothing. Not yet."

--

Meanwhile, in the bustling streets below, three young figures weaved through the crowds. Jacob, the son of the renowned Captain Max, led the way. At only seventeen, Jacob had already made a name for himself as a prodigy within MIRA's cadet program. His mind was a machine, sharp and unyielding, earning him both admiration and unease from his peers.

Beside him, Ryan, a spirited youth with a knack for mechanical engineering, and Jean, the team's empathetic heart, kept pace. The trio had been inseparable since Jacob's arrival at the academy, their bond forged in shared aspirations and mutual respect.

As they walked, Ryan jabbed Jacob lightly in the ribs. "So, the prodigy graces us with his presence. What brings you out of your ivory tower today?"

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Not everyone gets to spend their mornings tinkering with gadgets, Ryan. Some of us have real work to do."

Jean laughed. "If by real work, you mean getting lectured by Commander Dietrich about how we're the future, then yes, Jacob's been very busy."

"Don't remind me," Jacob muttered. "He's relentless. Always going on about how I need to live up to my father's legacy."

Ryan's teasing smile softened. "Well, your dad's a hero. It's a lot to live up to, but you're doing great."

Jacob didn't respond immediately. His father, Captain Max, lay in a hospital bed, his body battered and broken from the events aboard the Skeld. The shadow of his father's heroism loomed large, a constant weight on Jacob's shoulders.

Political Intrigue

Upstairs, Dietrich convened a meeting with his inner circle. Advisors, strategists, and governors gathered around a long table. Holograms projected data and charts, outlining the precarious state of global politics.

"The Iron Vanguard is gaining ground," one advisor said. "They're appealing to the public's desire for transparency and a reduction in military spending."

Dietrich's expression darkened. "Transparency? They'd hand our enemies a road-map to our destruction. As for spending, they forget that peace is only possible through strength."

Ross nodded. "We need to control the narrative. Focus on your achievements—the rebuilding of Iscar after the riots, the stabilization of the eastern territories, and, of course, the containment of Paradise."

Another advisor chimed in. "And Jacob."

Dietrich raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"

"The boy's a symbol," the advisor explained. "He represents the next generation of leadership. Show the public that you've mentored him, that you're investing in the future."

Dietrich considered this. "A good idea. Arrange for him to join me at the next public address. Let them see what a unified future looks like."

--

Back on the streets, Jacob and his friends found themselves in a quiet park, far from the city's noise. The conversation shifted to the upcoming election, a topic that had sparked heated debates even among their group.

"I don't know," Jean said hesitantly. "I get why Dietrich wants to stay in power, but sometimes it feels like everything's just… controlled. Like we don't have a say in anything."

Ryan frowned. "You'd rather have the Iron Vanguard? They'd sell us out to Hizuru in a heartbeat."

"I didn't say that," Jean replied. "I just think maybe we need someone new. Fresh ideas, you know?"

Jacob remained silent, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

"What do you think, Jacob?" Jean asked.

He hesitated before answering. "I think change isn't always a good thing. My dad used to say that people who don't understand history are doomed to repeat it. Maybe Dietrich isn't perfect, but he understands the stakes."

Jean nodded thoughtfully. Ryan, less convinced, muttered under his breath but said nothing more.

--

Later that evening, Jacob found himself in a quiet corner of MIRA's library, poring over old records. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but something about Dietrich's obsession with Paradise didn't sit right with him.

He came across a faded report, marked with a warning: CLASSIFIED: LEVEL OMEGA. His heart raced as he skimmed the contents. It spoke of strange energy readings from Devil's Island, unexplained phenomena that had claimed the lives of every expedition sent there.

"What are you doing?"

Jacob jumped, turning to see Ryan and Jean standing behind him.

"Nothing," he said quickly, closing the file.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like nothing."

Jean crossed his arms. "Come on, Jacob. If something's bothering you, we're your friends. You can trust us."

Jacob hesitated before opening the file again. "I think Dietrich's hiding something. Something big. And I think it has to do with Devil's Island."

The room fell silent as his friends processed his words.

"You're serious?" Ryan asked.

Jacob nodded. "Deadly serious. And if I'm right, it's not just about the election. It's about the future of humanity."

--

As Dietrich prepared for his next move, Jacob and his friends found themselves drawn into a web of secrets that threatened to unravel everything they thought they knew. The fate of the world hung in the balance, with every decision, every alliance, and every betrayal shaping the path forward.

Unseen forces stirred in the shadows, and the legacy of humanity's past loomed large. In a world of fragile peace and hidden agendas, the line between hero and villain blurred, leaving only one certainty: survival would come at a cost.