Darkness.

All he can see is darkness.

He struggles to pierce the gloom with his enhanced vision, but it isn't enough. Even his optic is useless in this place.

His hands clench into fists as he tries to move, only to find that he can't. All he knows is that he is trapped in this place.

Then, he hears it.

A small scream, like a child's. His eye widens and he finally finds the strength to force his body to move. He spins around, his right arm's tonfa flipping out and the beam blade igniting. He charges through the darkness, seeing what appears to be red eyes coming at him from all sides.

He swings his sword, cutting through the eyes as they try to nip and gnaw at his naked body. He has no idea why he is without clothing, but at least he isn't without a weapon.

The screaming gets louder as he cuts through more and more of the red demon eyes. He lashes out in a left uppercut, sending one set of eyes flying and two more crashing into a group of them. The man grits his teeth and charges at the next set of eyes.

Only to feel his feet catch on something and he lands on his face, sprawling on vegetation.

Confusion floods his features as he gets to his feet, noticing at once he is in a forest of some kind, clad in his uniform. He looks down in disbelief. Wasn't he naked a second ago? The thoughts are driven from his mind as he hears the scream again. This time it sounds much closer. He turns, and his eye widens in shock at the young girl as she bolts, passing right through him as if he isn't even there. Or rather, she does notice him, but at the last moment as another youth, not much older than she is, fires an arrow right for her throat.

The man's eye is wide and his optic sensor flashes in shock as the arrow penetrates her throat. Another boy leaps out, swinging a huge broadsword that cuts right through her flesh and bone like a knife through butter. And he can see the way she writhes in pain, her right arm going into spasms as it falls off, muscle, sinew, and tendons coming out, her blood gushing forth-

Only for his eye to snap open and he jerks awake, panting heavily as he raises a hand to his head and runs it through his hair.

"Damn... Another bloody nightmare..." he mutters under his breath.

The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon as he gets out of bed. He walks to the window and looks outside, his optic flashing in the morning light. "Well... time to begin."

(The scene shows a small flame before darkness snuffs it out. But a small ember burns...)

Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (The ember is blown away, becoming one of many as the sun begins to rise beyond a war-torn town.)

Hikari ga tsudzuku... ! (The light from the sun overcomes the camera and it fills the screen before fading to show the skyline of Sydney and the name of the series.)

Yami ga sono tochi o shuchō suru kamo shirenai (The image flares before it shows two people trapped in a ruined structure in what was once Shanghai. They are both shaking and are wounded from shrapnel.)

Shikashi, kibō wa enjo no te o kasu (A pair of explosions rocks the area and they huddle and whimper before someone lifts the debris off the two of them. It is a group of Australian soldiers.)

Sekai ga kawaru to (The soldiers help the two children to their feet before one of them grabs a grenade and throws it at some bandits coming to pillage. The grenade explodes before the debris falls away, exposing the ruins of Europe, Marshal Sergei Kudryavtsev's image over the continent, King Lawrence III opposing him over Europe as well.)

Furui risō wa moe tsudzukeru (The scene is engulfed in a bright flash as it shows Korean soldiers storming through city ruins in what was once Seoul, South Korea, carrying Panemian weaponry as rebels fight back desperately. Above them is Ahn Sun Pok, her face twisted into a sneer as she holds her hands upwards, as if mocking the world's helplessness. Behind her is the Panemian Vice President while President Kane is off to the side, gazing at the sky.)

Kieru hikarinonakade (With a wave of her hand, she commands the forces to open fire on rebel positions. Missiles rain down, the black smoke engulfing the area before it is blown aside by a hoverplane.)

Kurayami ga hirogaru ni tsurete (The hoverplane is painted in Arabian colors, and on top of the imposing palace is Muthasim V, the sultan. He looks back as it fades to a map, showing the Egyptian Union breaking away from them. But then it shows the country turning a bluish green as it fades to show a new figure in the shadows.)

Watashitachi no kibō wa tsudzukudeshou (The figure holds up its right arm before it lunges out, coming into the light to reveal Seph Matthews as he swings his beam saber mounted onto his right arm, cutting through a bandit before spinning and cleaving another's gun in two, following up with a left hook leaving him dazed. He turns, his left optics lens flaring red as it engulfs the screen.)

Watashitachi ga mada ikite iru kagiri (The light fades to show three other members, all of them gathered around in front of the Meldney Complex. To the left is Japanese Empress Yuki Minaguma. To the right is Filipino President Gueo Largina. And in the middle is Taiwanese President Chae Yang Un. Behind them the flag of the Australian Confederation flutters before the camera zooms in on it, only for it to fall away.)

Un, hikari ga tsudzuku! (The image of Sydney is revealed, above it Seph and his fellow leaders side by side with the sun behind them, the Australian Confederation flag above them all as the series name appears below them.)

Chapter 1: Awake and Alive

Location: Meldney Airspace

Time: 1600 hours

Date: Thursday, January 5th, 139 AF - After the Fall (2158 AD)

The single grey helicopter flashes through the sky, the rotor blades cutting through the air as he shifts in the doorway. He can see the incoming sight of the complex, and he smirks beneath his flight helmet.

His gaze flicks over the large satellite dish-like dome, its six 'legs' acting as braces against any possible attacks from the air.

From an aerial perspective, it looks like an enlarged, oversized radar dish, with apparent scuff marks from hail damage and a large stain from when water filled up the dish. The legs are the supports, but at the same time this radar dish has so much more hidden beneath it; quite literally in this case. A small series of heliports is located around the outer perimeter, apparently to service the large 'array', when in reality it holds much more beneath its metal façade.

The helicopter banks around and descends until it is just 1000 feet above the ground, revealing the secrets it holds to the passengers.

The men and woman with him are surprised by the sheer number of structures hanging from the underside of the radar dish. At first glance, they assume it is mostly trees and growth snaking up and around the dish to reach the sky and sunlight. But as they draw closer, it soon becomes apparent that the light is glistening off many windows, and the 'trees' are in fact buildings built into the underside of the dish. The central building descends down until it reaches the very ground, a thin, narrow elevator shaft being the only thing entering the ruins beneath. The main tower also acts as a support strut, braced with several strong steel beams anchored into the ground.

The 'radar dish' is in reality a highly advanced, heavily engineered structure designed to both blend in with the environment and at the same time deflect a nuclear missile attack; the 'water stains' are really scorch marks left over from a nuclear blast that was deflected skyward well over a hundred years ago. And the 'hail damage?' Impacts from the debris of the missile.

One of the men whispers a few swears in shock and awe at the marvel of engineering. "Bloody hell of God...!"

He smirks as he looks back at the passengers seated in the compartment of the helicopter. "Like it, mates? That there is our greatest engineering and defensive marvel: the Meldney Governmental Complex."

"Damn man... That is one amazing feat!" the woman mutters in awe. "Are the reports really accurate? That it was able to deflect an ICBM launched by Chinese warlords?"

Their host nods. "Sure was. Those damn chinks thought they had us that time. Truth be told, it was a shocker when it actually happened. No one was expecting it to actually work."

"What was the damage?" the second man asks.

"Long story short, mate? Not much. The bloody thing held up much better in real life than the computer sims said," their host remarks as he waves to it. "It's also powered by a nuclear fusion reactor, so we don't have to worry about power issues for a long time."

"I bet the Chinese were shocked when they learned of what happened," the woman states as she raises her smartphone to take a picture.

"Those blokes learned the hard way that they were just pissing into the wind," their host says, grinning. "They also learned to never piss us off."

As he says those last words, he reaches up and waves a thumbs up to the pilot. The woman nods and starts to ascend the helicopter. The craft begins to rise, circling around to the main indent in the so-called 'radar dish.' The man in the doorway waves his right hand towards the large stains. "As you can see, the only damage sustained was the blast mark you see before you." A smirk crosses what is visible of his face. "It also helped that we had the structure nearly completed by that time anyway."

"Do you have any idea as to who threw that nuke at you guys, President Matthews?" the female passenger asks as she turns to look at him.

Their host just shrugs. "All we know is that it was some bastard named Jingyi Shun Ma. We haven't been able to get a trace of Ma anywhere." He shifts before raising up the flight helmet's visor to expose his face. His right eye glimmers as he smirks. "But we know who Ma's children are."

The passengers all nod as the helicopter starts to descend towards the heliport closest to them, its lights flashing. The grey aircraft flares up in its angle of attack, the pilot adjusting and compensating for the wind coming in from the east. The man closest to President Matthews isn't too surprised to see his host's face, but his delegation is more than shocked, having not expected him to live up to his reputation as "President Terminator."

President Joseph "Seph" Matthews is known as that for a reason: his left eye is completely replaced with an advanced optical sensor that looks more mechanical than organic, covered with a lens of red glass. And his right arm is completely cybernetic, modeled after the RX-0 Unicorn Gundam from the old mecha anime series, Gundam Unicorn, complete with a working beam saber. The man's face is framed neatly by short, messy brown hair and his right eye is green. A scar crosses his left cheek, a reminder of the wound he had received some thirty years ago.

Unlike most politicians, Seph elects to wear a full military uniform (along with his commendations), a holdover from his days in the Australian Defense Forces, and the right sleeve is missing, no doubt to accommodate his arm. It is also meant to intimidate his adversaries, or potential adversaries, into being wary around him. While he is a democratically elected leader, he is far from being the usual stereotype as portrayed by the Unified Democratic People's Republic of Korea. He is really a stern man when it comes to dealing with dictators, preferring to be ruthless and harsh, but open and considerate with allies, as long as they share the same goals and ideals. He is also reputed to be very cunning, a trait that comes from experience on the battlefield.

It is a stark contrast to the way some other national leaders acts.

Egyptian Union President Aali Wasi El-Ghazzawy is not too surprised at how harsh he is, but to see it for himself is something new. The last time the Korean delegation had been here, there had been nearly a shootout between the Korean guards and Australian soldiers assigned to guard Matthews, only to be broken up by the man himself. He doesn't even want to know what was said, because he feels he will regret it later.

Matthews takes the time to glance back at the delegation in the helicopter, his optic locking onto each of them.

El-Ghazzawy is a man in his late forties, with a thick thatch of black hair and nice Arabic features. His eyes are a startling blue color, no doubt from his mother or father's side of the family through immigration back during the early days after the Apocalypse. He wears the usual suit for politicians, but he also has a sidearm on his left side in a holster. No doubt for protection against radicals, he muses. Not much different from me, he thinks as he eyes his beam saber briefly.

Economics Minister Yasmine Ahmad isn't that much older, with a cascading wave of black hair and brown eyes that are framed in a face with high cheekbones. Her outfit is a nice tank top and dress skirt with high-heeled shoes. Her body is lithe and very fit, a mark from working out for seven years. She looks back at him, keeping a wary gaze on him.

The third man, and the last of the passengers, is Nasib Hossam Zaman, the Defense Minister of the Egyptian Union. He is much thinner, and slightly older, than the President of the Union, and his hair is starting to grey. His eyes are still keen and sharp, as is his mind. He wears a military uniform, and he has all the medals earned throughout his career on his chest. It isn't much of a surprise, really. But what really makes people back off is the fact that Zaman wields a huge sword for his choice of weapon. The sword is currently sheathed at his waist as a ceremonial gesture.

Seph sighs and shakes his head a bit before returning to the task at hand.

Minister Ahmad shoots a glance at Seph out of the corner of her eye. "You say this place is run by a nuclear fusion reactor?" she asks.

He nods. "That's right, mate. No need for coal or oil. Hell, the whole confederation doesn't use those dirty fuels anymore." A smirk crosses his face. "I take it you're interested?"

"The Caliphate of Arabia has refused to sell us oil ever since we chose to stray from their allegiance," Ahmad says seriously. "We have been searching for new sources of energy, and as you may know, Panem is not too willing to sell us any of its coal."

"Well, we'd be more than happy to sell you some of our solar panels," Seph replies. "But, as is always, it comes with a set of conditions, the most important being you respect human rights." His face takes on a serious look, and his optic flares bright red in response to his feelings. "And you cannot have had any contact with Panem."

"You hate them, then?" Zaman asks, his keen mind catching on.

"Mate, you have no idea how right you are..." the Australian hisses. "Especially given their lack of respect for human rights regarding children. You hear of their bloody 'Games'?" He quotes the word with his free hand.

"Who could not?" Ahmad growls, her eyes narrowed. "The mere fact it's even taken place is very disturbing, even for us!"

Seph nods. "Those very bloody Games are the reason why we have such hatred for Panem. And not just that. But the Ultranationalists in power there believe that the people should serve the government like slaves. And that is just as bad, if not worse, than the bloody disregard for human rights of children." His eye hardens into an emerald as he pauses. "Because frankly, since the writing of the Magna Carta almost a millennium ago, the governments have been the servants of the people. And in the old United States of America, people could sue the government and win."

He glances back at the Meldney Complex. "Not such the case with Panem. They have a warped view of how things are done there. Democracy? What democracy exists there? It's a fascist state. And as such, with its barbaric tradition of killing innocents for what the Rebellion did... it is not even a state, but a barbaric tribe that happens to take the form of a state."

Ahmad's eyes widen a bit at the harsh tone in the Australian's voice. "Such a country is not even worthy of the word," Seph growls. His right fist clenches even tighter, and she sees the metal handle dent under his strength. "So why even do business with them? That's the issue."

El-Ghazzawy nods. "I understand your position, but we do business because we need supplies for our armies. Especially since the Wastelands have started encroaching into our territory." He pauses. "And that brings us back to the matter at hand, does it not?"

Seph nods. "Yeah. It does, mate. And to be honest, I'm not sure about giving away our fusion reactor plans, seeing as how they are the ultimate in energy sources." He hesitates before he continues. "However, we are more than willing to sell you some of our algae derived oil."

That gets Ahmad. "You... You have fuel derived from algae?! That's... No one has been able to do that for years! Not since the end of the Great Cataclysm!"

"Well, we have it," Seph remarks with a chuckle. "So you won't need to worry about drilling for it. Best part is, it's ecofriendly and the source can easily be grown. The process is a whole other scenario, but no doubt you blokes can figure it out."

"We can try," Ahmad admits, looking a bit prideful. "But we don't have the resources to build such farms."

"Then we'll just sell it to you," the President remarks as he shifts. "But the matter is, you'll need to be willing to fight for what the world lost. To help us regain the old ideals of openness and tolerance and respect. Panem and the rest of the world is not so willing to... at least for the moment. But..." He hesitates, not wanting to reveal such vital intelligence. He finally decides to compromise. "But there have been... encouraging signs... that maybe things can change."

"It has to do with this Kane, right?" Zaman asks, his keen mind deducing the brief silence.

"One smart bloke you got here, El-Ghazzawy, mate," Seph notes.

"It is why I chose him for my defense minister," the Union leader says with pride in his chest. "I would not be where I am without him, nor my other ministers."

"Good. Keep them close, mate. Friends are important to have, as are allies. But do not hesitate to be harsh with them should the need arise," the Australian advises. "I know that all too well from experience."

"I take your advice to heart," the Egyptian says.

The helicopter circles back around, heading back towards Sydney. "I'll take you guys inside the Meldney Complex tomorrow so we can formally work out the trade agreement. But for now, I'm sure you could use a break?" Seph asks.

"It would be refreshing to get out of this heat," Ahmad remarks, rubbing her forehead to get rid of the sweat.

The Australian President nods. "All right."

Within a few seconds, the helicopter is en route back to Sydney.

The trip back is rather uneventful, and as soon as the helicopter touches down, the Secret Service is out to usher Seph away from the vehicle and into the sleek limousine constructed for governmental workers. Modeled after the old American "Beast" limo, it has much of the same safety features, with a few additional ones, such as off-roading capacity and its own oxygen supply. The vehicle is even designed to be able to roll over and not sustain much damage, due to the unique nanobuilt armor plating and shatterproof/bulletproof glass.

Seph is immensely relieved as the driver pulls away from the airport. The only other people in the limo are his vice-president Martha Preston and Chief of Staff Hunter Jenkins, along with his wife, Tina Matthews-Hendricks. These three are his closest friends and political advisors, in addition to fellow war heroes and veterans.

He sighs as he runs a hand down his features. "Damn... this is not my day..." he mutters. "Bet you guys had your own problems, right?"

Tina nods. "Not as bad as some others," she says, looking at Martha.

"Let me guess. A certain Vice-President of Panem?" Seph asks, rolling his eye.

"Try more like Panem's naval assets intruding on our territory," Martha remarks, folding her arms. "We've been trying to get them to back off for days now, but so far no luck."

"I just wish that we could smack some sense into them!" Seph growls. "Not like it will make a difference. I mean..." He sighs as the limo begins to snake its way down the main street, passing all the buildings and into the suburbs where they are currently situated. Unlike most other leaders who live in great and majestic palaces, Seph chooses to live a simplistic life, preferring to live in either the Meldney Complex, or out in his Sydney home when he needs to get away from the hustle and bustle of government life.

Hunter places a hand on his friend's shoulder guard. "We all understand, mate. But the truth is, the whole world is in this state. And frankly, it's kind of disturbing."

He nods. "Yeah..."

"So, that aside, how much longer can we expect Panem to drill for that black sludge in our territory?" Tina asks Martha.

"About as long as fifty years. And that is not going so well, since we have our own naval assets keeping an eye on them. And as you know, we do not screw around with this kind of stuff," Martha says as she runs a hand through her long sandy-blonde hair. "They just wanted the oil, I know, but sometimes I can't help but wonder if it's also to try and intimidate us..."

"More like coerce us into forgoing what once made America so great," Seph grumbles. "But we... no, the whole Australian Confederation, will not yield those ideals. As you know, we've got all the people who hold onto them. Not just current generations, but those who came before us. Remember, our nation was transformed because of immigration and the civil rights movement."

"We'll get into that later," Tina tells her husband. "Right now we have more pressing matters."

"Like the Egyptian Union meeting," Hunter reminds his friends.

"Yeah. The blokes are interested in the oil. But we'll be selling them the green stuff. Not that black sludge from the ground," Seph says. He sighs again, pressing a hand to face and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Dammit..."

"Not going to sell them the fusion reactors?" Martha asks.

"No. That's what we're refusing to sell for a reason. Given the circumstances... until we can get more people to our side, we'll be keeping it secret for now. Just tell the world we're not using oil or coal anymore." Seph seems to sag a bit, his frame weighed down with the intense responsibilities of his position. "At least we have someone we can count on..."

"If you mean the King of England, then that is something. But for now... we have to try and focus on the matter at hand," Hunter says. He reaches behind a small cooler space and pulls out a couple cans of beer. He hands the first to Seph, who takes it and with his right finger, pokes a hole in the top. He chugs down half before he sighs.

"True. So, anything new on the economic front?" he asks.

Martha shakes her head. "Nothing really, except that some of the Aborigines have been asking to see you. They're a bit worried about the new fusion reactor coming into operation near their lands."

"I'll get with them as soon as this meeting is over. It'll be good to forget about Panem for a while and focus on matters more close to home." Seph is in truth feeling relieved. At least here he is making significant progress compared to the rest of the world at large. As a last holdout, it is hard to make an impact on those who believes in survival of the fittest.

The limo continues on for another fifteen minutes before it comes to a stop in front of the ranch style house where Seph and Tina live. While in a modest neighborhood, it is at the same time highly protected thanks to a slew of Secret Service agents camped out in the area. The rest of the country thinks it odd, but at the same time, it actually offers a sense of normalcy to the people who live around the area, even if they have to avoid crossing the lines of the camouflaged Secret Service agents. It only also adds a sense of security to protect them as well.

The First Family of Australia gets out, and their two friends follow suit. Martha and Hunter go down the street to their home and the limo peels off to the right, heading for the limo rental place, which is actually a good cover for it; he also does rent it instead. Government workers in Sydney and Melbourne have such limos at rental places. It also helps that it doesn't have the insignia of the President on it to further blend in. The flags are also removed once in place in the parking lot.

Seph feels a lot better at his home as soon as he sets foot inside and closes the door.

A meowing catches his attention and he turns his gaze to the cat that slinks into view. A smile crosses his face as he kneels and gently scoops up his pet in his left arm. "Hey, Sophie," he whispers, scratching her with his right hand. She purrs in his arms, licking his metal fingertips and nuzzling them. He laughs a bit as he sets her down, walking over to the lights and flicking them on. The Bengal cat slinks after him as he heads for the living room. Tina on the other hand goes straight to the fridge and grabs out some leftovers.

"You want leftovers?" she calls.

"Sure. Better than fast food," Seph replies. He reaches up and undoes his uniform top, removing it to expose a white tank top, along with the metal that is literally fused with the flesh on his chest. He rotates his right shoulder, trying to work some kinks out before he tosses the top aside and flops down on the couch.

"I'll bring it over in a minute. Gotta feed the cat first." Tina proceeds to get to work as Seph flicks on the TV with a wave of his right hand.

The news flashes on, and he grunts as he sees it is a report on recent Panemian activities in their waters, and he flicks his finger, changing the channel. "Not in the mood for Panem right now," he mutters.

The screen flickers before landing on the History Channel, this time showing a documentary on the affairs of the Middle East. He snorts. "Better than Panem, anyway."

Tina joins him a few minutes later, Sophie purring as she follows her mistress to the living room. The silvery cat starts to eat once her food is set down, and Tina sits down beside her husband.

"Bastards have no idea..." he mutters.

"Forget it, Seph. We have more issues to deal with," Tina reminds him. "Such as getting the situation with the Aborigine Council worked out. And finishing up the meeting with the Egyptian Union representatives."

"I know, Tina. I just sometimes feel like we're the only alliance still holding true to what ideals were lost," Seph says seriously. "If only... If only the war hadn't occurred..."

"There's nothing we can do to alter the past, Seph. But what we can do is sow the fields of hope for the future. And if anything, I'm sure America would want that, too." Tina places her hand on his. "So, just focus on that, okay?"

"But what if we fail?" Seph asks, looking at his right hand. "I mean... I've lost an eye, a limb, and for what? Ideals that no one else respects?"

"Ideals that the world can get back. It takes time, Seph. This mindset may be ingrained for now, but that's it. Only for now. If Kane is any indication... then maybe we can get the world to see reason once more." Tina seems adamant, and Seph can't help but smile back at her.

"Yeah. I guess you're right. And if we fail, then others will keep trying. That is the beauty of our nation. We've resisted falling back to the ways of the eighteenth century, so... we can do this," he mutters. "Maybe not in our lifetimes, but maybe in the future, we'll have a world we can be proud of."

She smiles and nods in agreement.

The two stay like that until the documentary is over.

"For the last time, we are not retreating!" one of the Panemians shouts over the comm line, her eyes hard as ice.

"And for the last time, this is not your playground!" Hunter hisses as he grips the edges of the desk in his home office. "We are more than willing to use force to get you to leave!"

"Not until we have secured what we desire," the officer growls back.

"Those oil fields belong to us!" Hunter yells. "We may not use it for power, but we sure as hell use it for other things, you damn barbie!"

The Panemian recoils in shock. "What did you just call me!?" she cries.

"A friggin' barbie! A barbarian!" Hunter sneers. "As in someone who murders children for the fun of it!"

The woman is about to snap, but Martha intervenes, stepping in front of her boyfriend. "I apologize for his behavior. But you know we have no respect for murdering children. We cannot allow this to stand, so we will retreat for now, but be warned. If you dare to threaten our facilities again, we will not hesitate to open fire."

The Panemian naval officer grunts, but backs down. "At least some people there have sense," she remarks, a prideful tone entering her voice.

"For now, yes," Martha clarifies. "So get out of here before we change our damn minds."

The comm shuts down and Martha turns to her friend. "Hunter, think this through. While you may be right, we're currently at the highest position of power here. We can't just say things willie-nillie like that. We have to be careful, lest a new world war break out. We have to be careful, and rational. Seph knows it, too. Why do you think he asked us to be in the Cabinet?"

"Because we can help him remain calm and focused. I know," Hunter says. He sighs. "I just hate dealing with these people..."

"Same here. But remember. We're doing this so one day a new leader may show the world the path to ideals long forgotten," Martha tells him. "So, just relax. It's okay now."

Hunter sighs and nods. "Right. You always were the more level headed of us in these matters."

Martha nods. "Yeah. So don't worry, mate. Let's let it go for now and just relax."

He smiles and kisses her before they leave the office together for some dinner.

That evening, Seph lays in bed with his wife, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. All he can really think about at this point is how the world has gone backwards. He wishes to understand it, but from the looks of things, it will be years before anyone has any sense to rise up alongside the Confederation and say no to this lifestyle and way of thinking. He snorts to himself as he curls his right hand into a fist, turning over so his back is facing his wife. He mutters under his breath as he gets out of bed. "Dammit... Now I can't sleep..."

He walks over to the window and looks out at the skyline of Sydney. The lights glimmer and accent the stars above the city. A small smile tugs at his lips, tears streaking down his right cheek. It really is a sign of the world long since passed, he knows, when the skies were clear, the sun could shine through and when the world was greener. How he wishes he could see it back then... back before the Apocalypse and the current world order. Sure photographs still existed, but it just isn't the same.

The President raises a hand to his face and wipes the tears away, but it still does little to ease the aching in his heart. He can only feel the pressure of his position, and the fact that the whole world seems to be against them, save for Lawrence, who is their only ally now. He closes his eye and sighs. "If... If only we knew why... why this damn mindset had to take root...!" He grits his teeth and clenches his fists. "Why does humanity always have to go backwards after such an event?!"

No one answers, save the soft snoring of his wife.

"God... If you really exist... help us... I beg you..." Seph gets down onto his knees, clasping his hands in prayer as he bows his head.

"God... I'm asking you... no, I'm begging you... help us in our mission... help us understand this new world... so we can undo what has been done. So we can return to ways long since forgotten... I only seek to help restore a once great nation to former glory... But in their current state of secularism, they have taken to using the name of their dictator, Snow, as a substitute for your Holy Presence... a mockery of who they used to be. They use it in place of any religious wording, and have come to see him as some deity, or close to it, I don't know!" He feels tears running down his cheek again as he continues his prayer. "I simply ask you to let those bastards who have been brainwashed by their "deity" know who the real God is over there... I ask you, Holy Father... to assist us... in our mission... in our operations to ensure that the future goes through a rebirth... to a world we can all call home and be proud of... not this mockery of what we once were as an open, tolerant, and respectful planet. I ask you... to guide us... and to assist us in some way..." He pauses. "The 95th Hunger Games are coming up. Maybe... you can show your Presence then... I don't care how you do it... Just... do it... show those bloody fools who's really in charge over there..." He choked back a sob. "And maybe... show them a vision of what should've been... a world where people are tolerant, respectful, and open. That is all I ask. I know I'm asking you a lot, but God... Please... use your strength to assist us in our darkest hours... For everyone... Amen."

He feels a bit foolish for doing this, but it seems like divine intervention and assistance is what is needed now. In truth, he always has been a bit of a believer, but he never really shows it. Only in certain times does he pray, mostly for the survival of his troops and those suffering in the Wastelands of China. But now... he feels like he has no choice.

Seph finally lifts his gaze and opens his eye, looking at the horizon. The stars seem to pulsate with defiance in the face of the soot from the wars raging beyond the ocean's borders, and the moon begins to creep out from behind its cloud cover, shining brilliantly as if in defiance...

Location: Meldney Complex - President's Office

Time: 1000 hours

Date: Friday, 6 January, 139 AF (2158 AD)

"And so, those are the conditions agreed upon." Seph holds out the paper and pen, his eye fixed onto the Egyptian delegation. "As long as you refrain from any contact with Panem, we wills sell you green algae-derived oil, not that dirty black sludge that most are turning to in this day and age. And should the need arise, we will do everything in our power to assist you, as long as you do the same to us."

The four are currently seated in the office of the President, which is a far cry from a luxurious place. In fact, one could say it is downright Spartan, a holdover from Seph's days in the military. While it does resemble the old Oval Office in the former United States of America, that is only in furnishings and décor. The shape of the room is really a standard office room. Although it does have bulletproof/shatterproof glass windows, exposing the buildings on the underside of the dish, adding a relaxing atmosphere to the room when he isn't busy.

"A mutual beneficiary, then," Zaman says.

Seph nods as he places his hands on the desk. "Yes. Hope you mates are okay with that."

El-Ghazzawy nods, his eyes fixing on the President. "But I take it there is more to it that just that, right?"

Seph is silent as he finally leans forward on his elbows, tenting his hands in front of his mouth. "Right on that one, mate. Panem is not to be taken lightly. Our spy assets abroad, and we don't have many in there, to be honest, have informed us of Panem's military forces, being state of the art."

"And you can counter them, I hope?" the Egyptian asks.

A smirk crosses Seph's face. "What do you think, El-Ghazzawy?" He flexes his right fingers a few times. "We're not ones to be tangled with, either. Our tech may be out of date in some cases, but we do know the value of beam weaponry. And yet sometimes nothing can beat a good ol' slugthrower."

"I see. And yet Panem also possesses these... muttations?" The Arab cringes. "I cannot even fathom the medical and ethical complications that come with such weapons."

"Which is why we've researched poison gas." Seph's eye becomes hard as his optic lens flashes red. "Poison gas designed specifically to kill such abominations. One of our spies works in that department, so we know a lot about them."

El-Ghazzawy pales visibly as his two ministers look disgusted and shocked at the implications of what he is suggesting. "Biological warfare?!" Ahmad blurts, her eyes wide. "Are you insane?!"

"Actually, chemical warfare. Biological weapons such as those cannot exist. Muttations are a scientific monstrosity and nightmare." Seph is dead serious. "And well... we needed an efficient way of killing them off. So we went with poison gas. Specifically, gas that has been engineered to attack muttations, but leave humans unharmed save for getting severely sick."

"How in the name of Allah did you pull it off?" Zaman asks.

Seph refuses to answer, but he does frown. "All I can say, mate, is that it was a hell of a nightmare to work out. We had to resort to capturing a few of them from Panemian handling." His face is calm, but inside he is feeling disgust at the mere fact that his own scientists and geneticists had to create the muttations from the ground up using techniques pilfered from the Panemians. At least it hasn't been in vain, because then they had a large amount to test the poison gas on. It has taken months, but in the end the gas was confirmed to have eliminated the last amount of muttations in storage, albeit making the workers sick for weeks.

His optic lens flashes a bit. "Truth be told, I'm not too keen on resorting to such actions. But if Panem ever dares to cross the lines with us... well... if they try and invade us, it'll be damn impossible. And if they bring those beasts... they'll lose them for sure."

Zaman isn't too keen on asking, but he is curious. "H...How long does it... take to kill?" he asks hesitantly.

The Australian narrows his eye. "Less than two minutes. I can tell you that the gas works, but that's all. I can't say anything else as it's top secret."

Zaman purses his lips, but nods. "Okay."

Ahmad shifts uneasily as she speaks, her voice surprisingly quiet. "You're keeping it secret in case Panem tries something, right?"

Seph nods. "Yeah. And although the Confederation does have the capability to do so, I will not engage Panem unless it comes down to it. We're better than that. As it should be."

El-Ghazzawy finally takes the chance to bring the meeting back on track. "So, should Panem try to assist their 'allies' in reclaiming our lands, you'll assist us then?"

The President's smirk is visible behind his hands as he nods. "Yes. We'll do everything in our power to assist and protect you. Rest assured on that."

"Thank Allah for that," he sighs, lowering his head in relief. "As it stands we have very few assets to defend ourselves with. And you..."

"It's also not just poison gas that makes people wary of us," Seph puts in.

That gets the attention of all three delegates. "Huh?"

"What are you getting at?" Zaman asks, his hand inching for his sword. El-Ghazzawy raises a hand to calm him down. The Defense Minister scowls, but removes his hand nonetheless, although his eyes are narrowed at their host.

"You, as an ally, fall under our nuclear protection as well." Seph's eye narrows a bit. "And by that, I mean we have nuclear-capable intercontinental ballistic missiles, much like our former 'ally' used to have. Except..." He pauses. "These are nuclear hydrogen missiles."

That gets Zaman. "You bastards have the gall to even develop such technology?!" he demands, pulling his sword out halfway. "I should cut you in half for this!"

"Just calm down!" Ahmad screams at him. "This is no reason to get upset!"

"Such missiles destroyed our world almost a century and a half ago! We cannot let a tragedy like that be repeated!" Zaman insists, his eyes blazing.

Seph sighs. "I kind of anticipated this, but don't worry. We don't have very many, anyway. And those that we do have... well, let's just say they're mostly a deterrent. But we will use them should the need arise. In fact..." A knowing gleam appears in his eye. "You could say we gave the blasted Koreans something to think about last time they tried to make a move on our allies."

Zaman is about to snap, but Seph raises his right hand. "Now, before you even blurt it out, we did not use such a missile. We showed them the footage from a live test of one." He lowers his hand as he sits back in his seat. "That was enough to get them to remain behind their borders. And as far as we've seen, they're still there."

El-Ghazzawy frowns. "So if Panem tries to invade us, or if the Caliphate attempts to move on us, you will deter them?" he asks.

Seph grins, and his optic lens flashes red in response. "We'll show them the same test footage. And yes, that was all live, unedited, uncensored footage."

All three Egyptians shiver at the way he is gazing at them, and Seph's expression softens. "I just hope we don't have to use the bloody things."

Ahmad finally regains her composure and shifts in her seat. "So, then... I take it we can count on your continued support?"

Seph nods. "Yes. You can, mate. That is a promise."

El-Ghazzawy nods, although he is still pale in the face from the revelations. "Good. Because we need all the allies we can get."

The three stand up, and after signing the agreement, with cordial handshakes all around, they file out, finally leaving Seph alone in his office. He sighs and slumps back in the seat, turning around to face the windows.

With that finally out of the way, he can now finally take some time to relax and peruse the reports the agents had left on his desk upon arrival. He turns back to look at them and grabs the first one, scanning it over. A frown mars his features as he taps his finger against the desk. "Hmm... More attempts to drill..." He shifts before he grabs a map close by and looks it over, noting the green territories of the Confederation and her allies. (The nations that had been annexed abruptly by the President a hundred years ago prior were Indonesia, East Timor and Papua New Guinea, to act as a buffer zone against Chinese and Korean warlords. The island nation of New Zealand was also annexed, or rather they elected to join the nation for their own protection, and the Solomon Islands and Vanuatu had joined some time later.)

The green color is not to mark radioactivity, but to show an independence of dirty fossil fuels.

Panem in stark contrast is marked as a hostile nation, hence a blood red color. Britain and her territories are marked as a greenish blue, and the other nations are shown as enemies as well, only in deep purplish red colors.

The map also shows Panemian naval assets slinking around close to the borders. He taps his finger a few times before he sets the map down and ponders his next course of action. He presses a button on the speaker. "Jake? Get me the JCS. We need to discuss a plan to drive Panemian naval ships away from our borders... without provoking them into open warfare."