ЦАРЬ KAISER - A Race to Conquer (Countryhumans)

Advise

"You want us to do what, exactly?" Weimar Republic asked uncertainly. I was in the middle of a discussion with my two sons about an arrangement we were making. Both were not enthusiastic about the uptaking of the project I proposed. Weimar kept shaking his head and coming up with alternate situations while his brother was more interested in tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. I was drained emotionally, after already explaining what I wanted them to do beforehand...

Both my sons came down the stairs after a few seconds. The first and elder, Weimar Republic, came down and greeted me politely. He was usually diplomatic and organised, but couldn't take a challenge, and would always vote for safety over risk. If I could make him see the benefit of an endeavour, he would trust my fatherly experience and do it. Today he wore a light blue long sleeve shirt, as it was not a workday.

My younger was another story. Third Reich came with a sour expression. A morose and snappy boy turned into an increasingly whiny and hissy man. Although suffering from extreme Napoleon Complex, he had a submissive persona. These explosive traits led him to wrench the wheel from his older brother, and drive his territories into war. He was imprisoned for fifteen years afterwards, much to my disappointment. This was his second year of freedom. He, on the other hand, wore a white T-shirt, as if he just climbed out of bed. 

After I commanded both to come down, I herded them outside, where we could speak without interruption and eavesdroppers. Although not Empirical material, the two were crafty, if not smart. I expected some more zeal in helping with something, well, illegal, but apparently, I had not considered that they had their own lives. 

"You must be wondering why I called you down," I started. They awkwardly sat down on a soft white outdoor sofa under a roof. Weimar leaned forward, anticipating my speech, while his brother sank back into the pillows. 

Third Reich rolled his eyes. "Duh," His scratchy voice was vexing as if he had a cold that he never bothered to cure.

I tried to ignore the best I could. It is easier said than done. I wasn't a fan of proliferous introductions, so I went straight to the point with my questions. "You both know Russian Empire, correct?" 

"Yes," Weimar nodded.

"Vaguely," his brother followed.

"All you need to know is that he's plotting something," I said quickly. "And I need to know what."

"And how are we supposed to help?" Weimar asked. "We don't even know him, or where he lives."

"Russian Empire is very arrogant," I told them. "He likes to flaunt his wealth and extensively, his ideas and thoughts. Those pass by word of mouth from his children and grandchildren." I looked at them knowingly. "And they're of your generation."

"Not really," Third Reich said flatly. "A little older." He shivered involuntarily as a breeze fluttered by. He rubbed his arms, where I could see a black tattoo of a radioactive symbol on his upper arm. I haven't noticed it before. He used to detest skin alteration or markings. 

"Same thing,"

"I believe Russian Empire has only one son, and that's Soviet Union," Weimar said. "And a lot of grandchildren." 

"Yes," I nodded. "this is where you're needed. Answer this question. Where do you cross paths with Soviet Union or any of his grandchildren?"

"Nowhere," Third Reich snapped. "Nowhere special."

Weimar thought for a moment. "Hmm...oh, I think Drittes has some sort of thing with him, right?" he addressed his brother, who merely shrugged. 

"You do?" I asked him. That was surprising.