​

 

 As Matyus walked down the street, the silence of the night was broken only by the clicking of his shoes on the cobblestones or by the rumbling of a distant carriage. A light fog rolled in, further enveloping him and further hiding him. 

 

As he approached the central square, the fog around him began to glow with a fierce orange light. A larger crowd than expected, he thought to himself as he walked. When he finally reached the massive square, he saw the crowd, torches lit, talking angrily. He also saw the massive pile of money stacked on the far end of the square. It was stacked nearly forty feet high. He knew for a fact that all of it had come from the Imperial mint, raided last night. He began to work his way through the crowd toward the steps leading up to the half-finished behemoth of a skyscraper, L&N Tower.

 

Matyus stepped onto the podium that had been set up on the steps to L&N Tower. He took a deep breath and turned to face the crowd, a crowd that had become eerily quiet. “People of the City of Unity, you have made the right decision in coming here tonight, for you have defied the nobility in doing so, and this is the first step toward our great victory.”

 

“This is but one more instance of the nobility’s underestimating the will of the people,” Matyus continued. “They believe that fear of their magic and wealth will keep us down. But it will not! We are here because of their wealth. It continues to grow even as we suffer. They make us work long hours in their dangerous factories just for the basic human right to feed ourselves.”

 

At these words, the crowd roared in anger, and several at the front ran forward and set the pile of money aflame. It burned quickly. 

 

Matyus paused for a moment before continuing. As he did so, he noticed a man in red standing at the mouth of an alley. When he looked back, the man was gone, so Matyus continued his speech.

 

“Not only do they force you, good people, to use your money to buy food and other basic necessities, but they go after the rest of what you earn as well, trying to make you buy fine luxuries for which you have no real need but feel compelled to buy. This is not only to line their own pockets but also to keep you down by taking back what little they have given you. So, now we must make a stand. Cast off your shackles and let this corrupt system bind you no longer!”

 

The crowd roared and began to move along the street toward the noble quarter of the city. So that's that, Matyus thought. We will be free soon.

 

                                                                . . .

 

Dmetri Molotov, emperor of the Molotovia imperiya, turned away from the window and the mob that had gathered outside. He had listened to the speech given by that fool nobleman Matyus Berlin, or Dietrich, as he now called himself. How could Matyus not see that the system in place was the best. It allowed for people to advance themselves with proper financial management, and it kept society running smoothly. Yes, he thought, but someone must rule, whether it’s me and my nobles or Matyus and his close allies.

 

As Dmetri left the building and stepped into a waiting automobile, he said to a nearby aide, “Tell General Lyon to move his troops into the city and to use as much force as is required. We don’t want a revolution tonight.”

 

Dmetri shut the door, and the car sped away through a city lit by the garish light of many fires.