Vienna – Three Days After the Declaration
The Ehrenfeld-Austrian Empire had been born in fire—and now it had to stand.
Within the marble halls of the restructured Imperial Parliament, the echoes of old institutions clashed with the new age. Though the flags had changed and loyalty oaths were sworn anew, the ghosts of rebellion still lingered in the columns. Burned portraits of the Old Guard had been removed, but the cracks on the walls remained.
Hans Ehrenfeld Adler entered the chamber in full military regalia, Eliska by his side in royal blue. Though the Empire was proclaimed, the real work had just begun—unifying a fractured state, calming newly annexed provinces, and preparing for the retaliations to come.
Around him sat the freshly formed Imperial Assembly, a patchwork of loyal guildmasters, reformed nobles, military officers, and civilian delegates from the Danube territories. The chamber was silent as Hans took the central dais.
"We do not have the luxury of peace," Hans began, his voice low but firm. "Czechia is stabilizing. Slovak militias have sworn fealty. But Austria's veins still bleed."
He looked around, making eye contact with each bloc.
"The Old Guard holds Styria. The Tyrolian passes are compromised. We have reports of Karling loyalists attempting to reach Munich and Prague. And now…"
He paused, as a courier handed him a sealed dispatch. He opened it slowly—his jaw tightened.
"Now, they march on Brno."
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
Eliska stood sharply. "Brno's defenses were stripped to secure Vienna. We left it exposed."
Hans nodded. "Deliberately. They believe it weak. They do not realize it is bait."
At that moment, Colonel Engelhardt stepped forward, his tactical maps unrolled on the central table.
"Our forces are ready. Brno will hold long enough to encircle. But this cannot continue. If we spend our future on reaction, we will never shape it ourselves."
Silence.
Then Hans spoke, gaze piercing.
"We must make a choice. The time has come for offense. Not just defense."
He raised his hand—and a pair of sealed documents were placed on the table.
"Two strategies. Two futures."
He turned to the gathered assembly.
"Option One: We rebuild The Parliament system where each bloc becomes a party. Reformists, Loyalists, Federalists, Monarchists. Let them fight on ballots, not battlefields. Let the people decide our course, guided by law."
The chamber murmured. It was a bold gesture—one that could stabilize the Empire through structure, not force.
"Option Two: We mobilize. The Danube Legions march into Tyrol and then south to retake the Balkans. We bring war to the traitors' gates. This would mean blood, conscription, and sacrifices we may not be ready to make."
He stepped back.
"You all know my heart leans to peace—but not weakness. I will not become what I just destroyed."
He then placed his hand over the first document.
"We will pursue Option One. Parliament will rise in Vienna. The parties will be bound by oath to the Empire, but they will be free to speak. Let the Reformists, Old Guards, and Moderates have their voice. Let debate be our next battlefield."
Applause—slow, uncertain at first—but building.
And yet, in the far end of the chamber, shadows lingered.
Old Guard spies had not been rooted out entirely. The defiance would return.
But for now, the capital had taken a stand—not with guns, but with governance.
As the assembly adjourned, Hans returned to the throne room. Eliska followed, quiet until the doors closed.
She spoke softly, "You chose the harder path."
He smiled, though tired.
"Because I'm not building a throne, Eliska. I'm building something that lives after me."
Outside, the bells of Vienna rang again—for the first time in weeks, not in warning, but in hope.