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Sun Ming swept his gaze across the warriors lined up before him.
“Remember. The last ones standing will be us,” he said.
Their purpose was clear: seize control of the new world that was about to begin. To survive, and survive again, until they could rebuild One China. That was the mission and very reason for existence, shared by all twenty-two of them. That was the sacred goal that had driven them this far, backed by the party’s unwavering support and countless sacrifices.
At the center of that rebirth stood the star of the continent, Wei.
“A child of the Han must stand at the center of the world. That young soul will shine, not just as the star of the continent, but as the star of humanity.”
The party had chosen him as the emperor of the new world. There had been other candidates, but they were all dead now. Only Wei remained and he had to be protected, even if it meant the rest of the world burned.
“The world will lie beneath your feet, Wei,” said Sun Ming.
However, before that could happen, there could not be two suns in the sky. Since the Korean bloodline was just like one of China’s minorities, subjugation was only natural, as it had always been.
“We’ll start with Korea. Crush the rebels,” Sun Ming ordered. “The rest, we absorb into our ranks.”
Wei said quietly, his voice barely audible, “… But...
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