Location: The Imperial Palace, Throne Wing – War Room
---
The long obsidian table shimmered under the golden chandeliers, a perfect mirror of the power seated around it. Ten men and women—all draped in wealth, pride, and quiet fear—sat at equal distances. Before each of them was a golden plate. Untouched. Silent. Waiting.
At the head of the table, I didn't sit. I stood.
Behind me stood twenty B.A.M. elite soldiers. Fully armed. No helmets. Eyes sharp. Trained to pull the trigger on command—my command.
I let the silence linger, like smoke in a sealed room. One minute… two.
Then I spoke.
"Do you know why you're here?"
No one answered.
"I said, do you know why you're here?" My voice wasn't loud—it didn't have to be. It was heavy. It carried weight. The kind of weight that came with absolute power.
Lord Terrance Blackwood cleared his throat. "We assume it's about the taxation proposal, my Lord."
I walked toward him. Slowly. Calmly. My boots thudded against the marble like a countdown.
"Assume?" I repeated. "Assumption is a dangerous thing in my Empire, Lord Terrance."
He lowered his eyes. Others fidgeted.
I stopped in the middle of the table, looking at all of them. "You are the richest individuals in this empire. Not because of luck. Not because of brilliance. But because I allowed it."
Gasps—quiet, barely audible.
"Now, I will ask each of you to state two things. First: how did you gain your wealth under my reign? Second: what percentage of it do you believe should be taxed for the good of the Empire?"
I turned to Dame Viera Anax first. She wore a crimson blazer and had her hair in a tight coil. Smart. Calculated. Dangerous.
She stood. "My Lord, I grew my wealth through telecommunications and arms supply. I suggest a... modest 8% tax on my earnings. With loyalty, of course."
I didn't react.
I simply looked at the next.
Then the next.
One by one, they stood and gave their rehearsed responses. Most danced around 5 to 12%. No one dared suggest lower. No one dared suggest more than 15%.
When it came to Cardinal Marcus Blackwood, he stood last. Calm, in his clerical robe.
"My Lord, everything I have came from the people's faith in your Empire. I suggest 30%."
Everyone turned to him, stunned.
I stared at him. Then… I smiled. Just a little.
"The rest of you should learn from him," I said. "But you won't. Because your hearts are filled with greed. So I will make it simple."
I placed both palms on the table.
"From this moment forward, every individual in this room will pay a fixed 35% of your income in tax. Failure to comply will result in immediate stripping of title, assets seizure, and imprisonment for economic betrayal."
Crackling silence. Faces drained. Lips tightened.
I leaned forward.
"Your titles mean nothing without me. Your empires exist because I exist. And when you forget that… I remind you."
I stood tall once more.
"Now… eat. Let it digest. Because by dusk, your accounts will already be deducted. Welcome to the New Age of Obedience."
I turned. My cloak swept behind me as the guards followed. The doors slammed shut behind me.
The Empire wasn't just about control. It was about fear wrapped in order.
And today, the richest citizens of Blackwood just got a taste of both.
---