Trumphammer

Emperor Trump placed a hand, heavy in his golden gauntlet, on my shoulder.

He gestured for me to look out beyond the Wall.

“Look at it, Raymond. Look at it and despair. The Degenerates sowed the seeds of their own destruction. What was once beautiful, is now dead.”

I felt a tear fall from my eye.

“My Lord, could we not have saved them?”

He took his hand off of my shoulder, and touched the Wall- strong, unyielding brick and mortar. A thousand-feet high and stretching across the entirety of the Freedomia, it’d kept the foreign hordes away for countless centuries.

“It is impossible to save a people who do not want to be saved,” he sighed.

His voice was heavy with sorrow. In that moment, I saw more Human in the God Emperor than I believe any other living man had ever seen.

Our meeting was interrupted by an Officer of the Wall.

Clad in shining red armor, the armor of the Trumpeters, and impossibly heavy for average Men, the Officer was nevertheless running toward us with the speed and strength of the ancient Spartans.

“My Emperor! My Emperor! The Cucks attack the Western wall with blasting powder!”

The God-Emperor of Mankind raised his hand to the sky, and in a blast of holy lightning, a sword was cast into his hand from the Heavens themselves.

“COME, RAYMOND. WE MUST REPEL THIS ATTACK IMMEDIATELY.”

Instinctively, Fear almost overtook me and I was almost thrust into the Darkness of mind that comes from contact with Degeneracy. But the presence of my Lord my God cast this Wickedness from my mind near-instantaneously.

The Emperor had not bothered to wait for me, nor even turn around. He knew I would follow Him into the depths of China.

I drew my sword, and followed the crowd of Navigators that were now rushing toward the battleground.

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