The Revolution Came

Intermission: Letter from the Family

January 23rd, 1940

The past two years had tested the Republic's resilience like never before. Debts loomed over the economy, and with foreign markets shifting unpredictably, the nation's financial stability had slowed to a dangerous crawl.

The Treasury, under immense pressure, ordered severe spending reductions. Every department felt the strain. The military froze recruitment, infrastructure projects ground to a halt, and subsidies for key industries vanished overnight.

The crisis deepened. Factories shut down, trade routes withered, and the streets became battlegrounds of desperation. Protests erupted as workers, their livelihoods disappearing, demanded relief. In a desperate bid to restore order, the government enacted controversial market reforms: loosening restrictions on foreign investment, adjusting tariffs, and tightening control over state-backed industries.

Some hailed these measures as a lifeline, a necessary correction to stabilize the Republic before total collapse. Others saw them as a betrayal, fearing that foreign powers and corporate monopolies would exploit the nation's wealth.

The Republic stood at a crossroads. Patience was wearing thin, and time was running out.

Cody sighed as he leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the newspaper. The only real relief he could find was the de-escalation of violence between the Red Youth and Young Lawrencians.

For years, since the Cotton Rebellion, blood had soaked the streets, and the echoes of gunfire and riots haunted the cities. Finally, the headlines spoke of something else: an uneasy truce.

He glanced at the two newspapers laid before him, each offering its version of the story.

___~Kalayaan~___

"Government Declares Victory Over Political Unrest: Red Youth and Young Lawrencians Disarmed as Stability Return"

The government's official stance, a firm declaration of triumph. Cody knew better. The streets were quieter, but peace was never so simple.

___~Imperialiste~___

"Red Youth and Young Lawrencians Leaders Call for End to Political Violence, Urge Path to Reconciliation"

A softer take, but no less significant. If the leaders of both factions were now advocating peace, it meant they were either exhausted, outmaneuvered, or saw an opportunity in surrender.

Cody exhaled, setting the papers aside. It wasn't over, not by a long shot. The economy remained in crisis, the people restless, and the factions, though disarmed, still existed.

For now, the Republic had bought itself time. Whether it would be enough was another question entirely.

Before he could turn his attention to the next set of documents, a firm knock echoed through his office.

"Come in," he called, setting his pen down.

The door opened, and to his surprise, his wife stepped in, followed by their children, his niece, and his cousin.

Cody blinked, momentarily caught off guard. His office was no place for family visits, especially not unannounced.

His gaze swept over them, searching their faces for an answer. Why are they here? The thought lingered as he met their eyes, their expressions unreadable.

"Cody... Tia is dying."

Karlos's voice was heavy with sorrow, the weight of the words settling like a stone in the room.

Cody looked up, his breath hitching. His mother... dying? The thought hit him like a sudden blow, and for a moment, his mind raced, grasping for some way to make sense of it.

His thoughts tumbled over each other, a thousand memories flashing in an instant: her voice, her lessons, her unwavering presence. Even after their fallout and eventual reconciliation, he still misses those days when he was with his mother and sisters.

He swallowed hard, forcing the words out. "Let's go."

His voice cracked.

For the first time, his family, his wife, his children, his niece, heard it. Not in the heat of a debate, not in the throes of war, but here, in a moment of raw, undeniable grief.

They said nothing. They didn't need to. Their eyes, filled with quiet sorrow, said enough.

___________

The caravan stopped in front of the farmhouse, which their family had chosen as their refuge after moving to St. Lawrence.

Golden fields of wheat stretched endlessly, their gentle sway in the breeze a stark contrast to the storm brewing in their hearts. Orchards framed the landscape, their blossoms untouched by the weight of grief that hung over them.

Jazmin stepped out, her gaze drifting to the farmhouse as the door swung open.

Before Cody or Karlos could take another step, a blur of movement surged toward them. In an instant, they were tackled to the ground by their entire extended family: a chaotic tangle of arms, laughter, and unspoken relief.

For a fleeting moment, grief gave way to something else, something warm, something whole.

Yet, the warmth of that moment faded as quickly as it had come.

The laughter quieted, the embraces loosened, and reality settled back in.

Both men, still catching their breath, exchanged a glance before Cody finally spoke. His voice was steady, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.

"Where is she?"

Karlos nodded, echoing the unspoken urgency.

The mood shifted. Joy gave way to solemn understanding. Without hesitation, a family member stepped forward, silently motioning for them to follow.

_______

"Nay... I'm here," he whispered, his voice barely holding steady.

She turned her head slowly, her tired eyes finding his. Despite the weakness in her body, a gentle smile graced her lips.

Cody knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he reached for hers. The woman who had raised him, guided him, stood unshaken through every storm, now lay before him, fragile yet full of warmth.

No titles, no battles, no weight of the Republic mattered in this moment.

Just a son and his mother.

End of Intermission