Vhyio

By Sudhansu Thongam

The world is divided: great powers on one side, and lesser nations on the other. Among the

giants stands ALTA, ally to the major countries, whose strategy is as ruthless as it is brilliant.

They poison the rivers of neighboring nations—lifelines on which entire populations depend.

Scarcity drives prices skyward, while desperate civilians flood across borders in search of

survival. And then, at the height of chaos, ALTA closes its borders, forcing famine and

overpopulation upon their neighbors.

When the minor nations rally together to strike back, ALTA unveils its true hand. A shadowy

leader emerges, orchestrating the sale of weapons, slaves, food, and machinery—at ruinous

prices. ALTA strangles economies, feeds war with one hand, and profits with the other. At the

peak of devastation, they declare a ceasefire, having already broken the will of weaker nations.

Yet, from within ALTA’s own borders, something unexpected stirs. NECITI, a small, overlooked

territory, begins to maneuver in silence. They propose themselves as an economic hub, a

weapons depot, and a base for global financial institutions—on one condition: their citizens

are evacuated to make way for the military machine. The world accepts.

Then, in a single stroke of betrayal, NECITI bombs itself—obliterating its own infrastructure,

annihilating scientists, weapons caches, and the economic heart of ALTA. But the world does

not know it was NECITI’s doing. They stage the disaster as an attack by hostile minor nations,

redirecting ALTA’s wrath outward. Revolution riots spread across ALTA, carefully orchestrated

distractions concealing NECITI’s role.

But truth has a way of surfacing. When ALTA uncovers the deception, NECITI shifts tactics

again—invoking religion and culture. Religious fervor grips the masses; people rally to NECITI

not as traitors, but as divine saviors. From then on, allegiances are no longer political—they

are sacred.

Where ALTA claims to be the Motherland, NECITI claims to be the Fatherland. Entire nations

are no longer shipped as allies or enemies; they are wedded into identity, into belief.

And then comes the ultimate twist:

NECITI never existed.

It was ALTA all along—fabricating the illusion of an internal enemy to absolve itself before the

world, staging its own punishment to cloak deeper ambitions. Not even ALTA’s supreme leader

knew the truth. The strings were pulled by one man alone: Rasputin, the royal advisor,

operating through a hidden cabal of officers.

The final revelation arrives in shadows: an assassination, carried out by Rasputin himself. The

silhouette of the victim? A man eerily resembling Archduke Franz Ferdinand.

The story closes with one question lingering for the audience:

Was this tale merely fiction... or the unseen truth of how the Great War truly began?

By Sudhansu Thongam