Imperial Peace and Imperial War coexist. One does not exclude the other, nor shall it ever. The Empire is in a state of constant war and a state of constant peace, the simple change in the matter is where one stands relating to the Empire. Whereas we may not engage in open combat, with sword and sorcery and siege, at all times, it should be considered that anyone who does not fly the red-white-black can be considered an opponent in our war.

  It may be a war of culture, which ends with their own people betraying them for us. It may be a war of finances, which ends with their lands belonging to us. It may be a war of progress, where the sheer might and speed of our advances simply make us a foe totally untenable to even consider defeating. That is how the Empire should think and organize, and that is how the Empire does think and organize. I write this as one of the leads of where our culture should go and I do it honestly, because the Empire, whilst being in constant competition, is also in constant peace.

  Within our borders, it is not that conflict is guarded against, it is that conflict is simply impossible. The end goal of the Empire in this regard should be to provide such a bounty of results that only madmen could go against us. I know my father coined this theory of the “Perfect Tyranny”, but it espouses such a bountiful stability that one would have to be a fool as to try and deny it. The ignoble tyrannies of the past, hated every moment throughout their existence and only looked upon with scorn in the eras past, managed to last for hundreds of years until they were overthrown. Yet that is a falsification of history.

  For the first century, when they were still conquering the Arda at humanity’s behest, we all thought they would be there to last forever. That was the first time I realised that this hobby of mine, this fixation upon the patterns of civilization, was not a simple waste of time. I would once again like to praise myself, although I think the praise is well deserved.

  Of all of us, before even my father, I was the first one to say they would collapse. Two years into the expansion, I felt like I saw the future and yet all I did was ask the end result, since it was fast approaching at that point: ‘What happens when the various proto-states of humanity actually succeed in conquering Arda?’ Everyone knew it would happen. Neither the remnants of the dangerous flora, nor the monsters that came after it, could stand against mankind’s collective strength backed by the most glorious of Divinities.

  War and Peace are natural states of humanity. I do not see them as opposites, I see them as two sides of the same coin, to pretend only one exists is farce.

  Thus, it is not enough that the Empire be the warmonger, or the most successful example of peacetime. The Empire will be it all. I fully agree with my father on this notion, and support him in every way.

  Our destiny is not to gaze down upon Arda from our magnificent throne, our destiny is to gaze down upon the stars from our magnificent Arda.

  - Excerpt from the “Imperial Statehood Discussions.” Closed meetings in which the founding doctrines of the Empire were settled between Imperial Divines and important mortals. Dated to before the Great War. This speech was given by Malam and is credited with the shift in Imperial philosophy towards the “Empire Encompassing” Doctrine.

  Even though Iniri had arrived only yesterday, progress had increased exponentially. The Goddess of Nature, surprisingly, had no qualms with disease. She, surprisingly, had no issue with the plan to make a virus capable of extermination either. She, surprisingly, did not even comment once about what they were doing here. She, surprisingly, did not even think badly of the security, instead just commenting that she had lived in far, far worse. And, most surprisingly of all, she actually had qualifications and titles. That was the worst part, they were mentioned off handedly, absentmindedly, when one of the scientists namedropped a professor that Iniri apparently had worked with and she piped up that she had taught him. As if the title of Goddess of Nature wasn’t enough, the woman had a master’s degree in seemingly everything relating to her field, from botany to conservationist urban planning.

  Baalka could not stand her whatsoever.

  Well, that implied hatred. It wasn’t hatred. Baalka did not hate the orange in her hand either. Nor the crate that had been brought down with dirt from which a series of bushes spiralled upwards and raised everyone’s spirits through the delicious fruit. It was more… Baalka chewed as she watched the tree inside the testing chamber combust once again. Iniri bit into an apple. Juice splashed from it onto the reinforced glass and Baalka scowled.

  It wasn’t that she made a mess. Everyone made a mess. A mess was the most natural thing in existence. It was the fact that this woman had come in and made apples so ripe and so delicious that they literally exploded with juice. “Oh no.” Iniri said as she chewed. “Will that leave a mark?”

  “Someone wipe it down!” Baalka shouted and one of the assistants came close with a disinfectant towel that smelled of pure ethanol. “How hot can we push it?”

  “I don’t know.” Iniri said.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Baalka asked.

  “I mean I don’t know.” Iniri said. “It’s just a matter of attrition, not actual heat. How hot can I push wood to? It sets alight around four-hundred degrees, less with a spark of course, if you want that as an answer.” The wood through the glass suddenly stopped burning. Every scientist made some sound of awe, men started shouting their reports.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “We have confirmation of-“ Iniri raised her hand as she stared at it.

  “The bark is covering itself with sap.” She said. “Leave it, I don’t need the rundown.” Baalka just stood there, grumpily as she finished off her orange and looked down at the skin. Normally, she got the fruit that could just be eaten whole. The peaches and the apples that didn’t leave a mess. It was doubly annoying, not only because Baalka wanted the rundown of it but because now she had to turn to actually looked at the Goddess of Nature at her side.

  Iniri stood little taller than her, that was already annoying. She was fuller in all the important areas. That was annoying. She was smiling. That was annoying. She took a bite of the apple she had grown. That was annoying. She glanced at Baalka in an annoying manner. “Hmm?”

  “Where do I put this?” Baalka asked.

  “Throw it in the crate.” Iniri replied and Baalka turned to the rest of laboratory. Save for the fact that everyone who was supposedly a scientist and that food wasn’t allowed in this section had some piece of fruit by their side, Iniri had not done any major readjustments. None save for the crate. It was from the warehouse, carried down the endless set of stairs by a group of men who had been thoroughly unprepared for it. Soil had been brought down too and Iniri had done her magic.

  From the crate sprouted a strawberry bush, a raspberry brush, a parody of an apple tree that had a single branch which always had an apple ready. Same for an orange tree, so for another thing that reached to the low ceiling and bore a bundle of bananas. Soldiers let loose in a brothel had less excitement than the scientists did than the team working in Endpoint did about the crate.

  Baalka through her peels underhanded into the box. The moment they touched the soil, tiny roots grabbed, tore, and pull them underground. Annoying. Terribly annoying that this woman was a recycling bin of all things. Terribly annoying that Baalka didn’t mean it badly, she couldn’t do that! “How does the sap work?” She asked as she turned back. The bark was covered in what looked to be shining lacquer that was beginning to crack.

  “We’re hitting five hundred degrees!” One of the white-coated scientists called out. More than five times than what Baalka could do with her diseases.

  “It burns up almost immediately.” Iniri said. “But you just outproduce the heat, sap burns and then the gap gets filled, see how the cracks are closing? This tree.” She nodded through the grass. “I’m not controlling it right now, it’s just doing the work itself.”

  “Oh.” Baalka said. Of course.

  “How high could you push it?”

  “With myself as a battery?” Iniri smiled in pure satisfaction. “Did you hear about Klavdiv?”

  “I got a report after you came from dad.” Baalka said. “You held it against Olephia.”

  “How hot does she go?”

  “I don’t know.” Baalka said. Olephia’s annihilation went to a heat that capped out scales and was worthless in testing. It was a heat that was unusable. “But you’re doing it alone.”

  “It depends on the size and the amount of food given to the tree.” Iniri said. “That’s the more important part.”

  “And that is what?”

  “Anything with nutrients.” Iniri said.

  “Does that include bodies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright.” So they had a method then. “What about diseases?”

  “I can’t do that.” Iniri said. “And the more it grows, the more it uses exponentially.” She motioned a line of exponential growth with her hand as if Baalka didn’t know what the word was.

  “Can that be solved?”

  “Multiple trees.” Iniri said, but if we’re just talking about raw power, then bigger is better. If we want to spread out, then I have quick vine.” Baalka nodded as the cracks in the sap started to form faster than they were being sealed up. “We’re hitting the limit.”

  “What’s the temperature?”

  “Eight hundred degrees!” Ten times. Ten fucking times was the limit.

  “Will that do or not?” Iniri said. “A bigger tree can hold for more, I show you different barks as well.” The other showcases had been done already. Everyone knew Baalka’s roots could snap metal swords in half, Baalka had personally witnessed it in the Great War. It had been showed off though, just for showing off’s sake. Likewise with the speed of spread. Thin roots that ate the air could coat the entire floor of the testing room and begin their climb up the walls in less than a minute.

  “Whether it will do or not, I don’t know Iniri.” Baalka said and looked down at her hands. “Can you grow me a fruit?”

  “What do you want?”

  “There’s this purple thing I saw on the news.” Baalka said slowly. “With a white inside.”

  “Lychee you mean.” Baalka had no clue what it was, she had just seen the scientists in the morning try the fruit and had been too stubborn to admit she wanted one.

  “Yeah.”

  The fact it didn’t even a take ten seconds made Baalka want to smash her fist into Iniri’s face right this instant. “Done.” Iniri said, smiling to herself. Baalka spun to the crate, a new branch was already sticking out of the ground, bending horribly with bright red and purple and spiky fruits. She took one as the sap finally shattered and started flaking to the ground, without its protective shield, the tree in the testing chamber quickly feel apart. It combusted into a huge inferno of flames, far too large for its size, and then turned to ash.

  “Eight hundred and forty!” One of the men reported as Baalka peeled her Lychee fruit. It was wet on the inside, terribly sticky too. She already didn’t like the smell.

  “There’s a big seed in the middle.”

  “Mmh.” Baalka said as she threw the whole thing into her mouth. It tasted like roses covered in honey. The flavour sounded good only in theory, it was too flowery for her.

  Iniri saw the grimace and chuckled. “Acquired taste.”

  “You like them?”

  “I hate to be predictable but as the Goddess of Nature, I like every fruit.” She turned back to the pile of smouldering as the heating panels on the side of the wall began to finally cool down. “That’s the presentations done though, what do you think?”

  There was no say it without a compliment so Baalka gave the weakest one she could. “You passed.” Baalka said, for a moment, she felt like a waste of space. “It was far more than I expected, if I’m going to be honest.” That was another terrible compliment, especially since Iniri had been so helpful up until now. “It’s great, honestly, you’ve just defeated me.”

  “Don’t say that.” Iniri said lightly. “It’s not a competition.”

  Baalka took a deep breath. “We can take a rest for the men today.” She said. That immediately lightened the mood in Endpoint’s sole laboratory. They had done enough.

  “And us?”

  “We need to talk on this.” Baalka said. “Because I have a plan.” The feasibility could be tested outside, with something as simple as a bramble and the common cold. It would have to be tested like that before they started to try mixing their abilities.

  “What is it?”

  “Could your trees carry my diseases?” Iniri turned to Baalka, her smile downright hawkish, her green eyes viperous. There she was. Not this playful little girl who did recycling and grew fruit for mortals, this was the Iniri that Baalka remembered from the Great War.