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| Kalimord | Posted: 05-10-2025 15:57:45 |
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“King Matt’s Regime Commits Atrocity in Cold Blood” By the Kalimordian People’s News Bureau Dateline: The Ruins of Kalimord In an unforgivable act of barbarity, the forces of the self-proclaimed “King Matt” have struck again — this time targeting not soldiers, but saviors. At dawn yesterday, a Kalimordian humanitarian transport marked with the white insignia of the Aid Corps of Renewal was shot down over the disputed frontier near the borderlands of Tarnfell. The aircraft carried eleven medical personnel and relief engineers en route to deliver food, medicine, and shelter materials to displaced civilians still trapped in the ruins of western Kalimord. Witnesses report seeing two of King Matt’s interceptor craft circling before launching their missiles without warning. The wreckage was later recovered smoldering across a three-kilometer stretch of scorched earth — the final resting place of men and women who sought only to heal. Military analysts within Kalimord describe the strike as a deliberate attempt to “starve and demoralize the Kalimordian people.” Commander Reth Varn of the 3rd Reconstruction Army condemned the act as “proof that the enemy fears compassion more than any weapon.” The attack has sparked outrage across all liberated sectors. Citizens gathered in the plazas to honor the fallen aid workers, chanting, “Mercy will rebuild what cruelty destroys.” Meanwhile, King Matt’s court issued a predictable denial, claiming the downed aircraft was “a military courier.” Yet fragments of the fuselage clearly display the blue-white markings of the Aid Corps, and recovered flight logs confirm its noncombat mission. Once again, the so-called “Kingdom of Order” has shown its true face — not a bringer of peace, but a butcher cloaked in banners of righteousness. The Directorate vows swift justice. “For every innocent life taken,” the statement reads, “we will rebuild ten homes, feed a hundred children, and remind the world that Kalimord endures.” And endure it shall — for even amid the ruins, truth still burns brighter than any missile’s flame. Would you like me to make a counter-propaganda response from King Matt’s government next — perhaps denying the claim and accusing Kalimord of fabricating evidence? You said: Show again ChatGPT said: Of course — here’s the Kalimordian propaganda piece again in full: “King Matt’s Regime Commits Atrocity in Cold Blood” By the Kalimordian People’s News Bureau Dateline: The Ruins of Kalimord In an unforgivable act of barbarity, the forces of the self-proclaimed “King Matt” have struck again — this time targeting not soldiers, but saviors. At dawn yesterday, a Kalimordian humanitarian transport marked with the white insignia of the Aid Corps of Renewal was shot down over the disputed frontier near the borderlands of Tarnfell. The aircraft carried eleven medical personnel and relief engineers en route to deliver food, medicine, and shelter materials to displaced civilians still trapped in the ruins of western Kalimord. Witnesses report seeing two of King Matt’s interceptor craft circling before launching their missiles without warning. The wreckage was later recovered smoldering across a three-kilometer stretch of scorched earth — the final resting place of men and women who sought only to heal. Military analysts within Kalimord describe the strike as a deliberate attempt to “starve and demoralize the Kalimordian people.” Commander Reth Varn of the 3rd Reconstruction Army condemned the act as “proof that the enemy fears compassion more than any weapon.” The attack has sparked outrage across all liberated sectors. Citizens gathered in the plazas to honor the fallen aid workers, chanting, “Mercy will rebuild what cruelty destroys.” Meanwhile, King Matt’s court issued a predictable denial, claiming the downed aircraft was “a military courier.” Yet fragments of the fuselage clearly display the blue-white markings of the Aid Corps, and recovered flight logs confirm its noncombat mission. Once again, the so-called “Kingdom of Order” has shown its true face — not a bringer of peace, but a butcher cloaked in banners of righteousness. The Directorate vows swift justice. “For every innocent life taken,” the statement reads, “we will rebuild ten homes, feed a hundred children, and remind the world that Kalimord endures.” And endure it shall — for even amid the ruins, truth still burns brighter than any missile’s flame. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 06-10-2025 20:49:22 |
| "Campfire in the Ruins”
The night was still except for the soft crackle of fire. The ruins of Kalimord stretched around the soldiers like ghosts of their homeland—broken columns, collapsed roofs, the twisted frames of once-grand homes. The wind carried ash and the faint smell of iron from the battlefield beyond. Sergeant Dalen crouched beside the fire, poking the coals with a bit of rebar he’d found earlier. “Hard to believe this was Market Square,” he muttered. “Used to be filled with food stalls and women yelling prices. Now look at it.” Private Luro grinned through the smoke, his face striped with soot. “Still smells like roast meat, though. Pity it’s rat tonight.” He turned the makeshift spit with exaggerated delicacy. “The finest cuisine in all of Kalimord.” The others laughed—low, rough laughter that sounded more like survival than joy. Corporal Ilya pulled her cloak tighter and leaned back against a crumbled wall. “I heard King Matt’s soldiers eat from silver plates,” she said. “They’ve got rations brought straight from the ports. Meanwhile, we’re chasing rodents through ruins.” Luro smirked. “Maybe if we ask nicely, His Majesty will send us some leftovers.” “Maybe,” Dalen said, “if you stop running your mouth long enough to win this war, he’ll send you a coffin instead.” That earned another round of laughter, this one darker. For a while, the squad sat quietly. The flames danced on their tired faces—five survivors out of a platoon of thirty. In the distance, artillery rumbled like a passing storm. Then Private Ren broke the silence. “You ever think about what happens after all this? After we win?” “‘When,’” Luro corrected. “When we win. Don’t curse us, boy.” Ren shrugged. “Fine. When we win. What then? You think the ruins get rebuilt? You think anyone will even call it Kalimord anymore?” Ilya stared into the fire. “We’ll call it what we always did. The outsiders can build their palaces and their kingdoms, but this land’s got bones older than Matt’s crown.” Dalen nodded slowly. “That’s why we fight. Not for glory. Not for pay. For the right to bury our dead where we choose.” There was a pause, the kind that felt sacred. Then Luro broke it again with his usual grin. “And for the right to eat something that isn’t rat.” “True patriotism,” Ilya said dryly. The laughter returned—smaller this time, but warmer. The fire crackled, and someone began humming the old Kalimordian soldiers’ march, its melody echoing faintly through the shattered streets. Above them, the sky was bruised with smoke and starlight. Around them, the ruins whispered with memories. And in that moment—amid the rubble, the laughter, the bitter jokes—they were still a nation. Not in marble halls or golden crowns, but in the quiet defiance of soldiers who refused to die forgotten. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 08-11-2025 08:35:51 |
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Title: The Return of Chang Kai Buu The sterile lights of the cloning chamber flickered as a hiss of steam rose from the containment pod. Inside, a pale figure stirred — bald, clean-shaven, and dressed in a crisp gray suit that shimmered under the glass. Chang Kai Buu was alive again. He flexed his new fingers slowly, admiring the craftsmanship. The cloned muscles obeyed perfectly, the synthetic nerves humming with precision. “Excellent,” he murmured, his voice deeper than before. “The gods failed to destroy me. Now they will pay.” Outside the chamber, his loyal officers — the remnant of the Kalimord High Command — knelt as he emerged, wrapped in a long gray coat bearing the sigil of the Silver Sun. General Hwan saluted. “My Lord, the traitor Bak Soong Shu is in custody. The council awaits your verdict.” Chang smiled faintly. “Verdict? The verdict was sealed the day he defected to the Anti Angels.” Moments later, in the courtyard of the Citadel of Kalimord, Bak Soong Shu was dragged before him — disheveled, trembling, his once-proud uniform torn. The cold air carried the hum of the hovercameras broadcasting live to all territories still loyal to Kalimord. |
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| Kalimord | Posted: 08-11-2025 08:43:39 |
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Chang Kai Buu and Snake: Shadows Over Ambroid The telecom flickered alive, its cracked lens casting ghostly light across the chamber. In the heart of Kalimord’s fortress, Chang Kai Buu sat motionless — pale, hairless, and precise. His cloned body was a mockery of life, a perfect vessel for a mind that refused to die. Behind him, the banners of Kalimord hung heavy, the sigil of the serpent and the eye watching over the darkened hall. Then came the voice. Rough, grounded, unmistakable. Snake. “Didn’t think you’d answer, Buu,” Snake said. The transmission crackled with interference, like the world itself was trying to drown them out. “Your goons have been chasing me halfway across Ambroid.” Buu’s expression didn’t move, but his cold eyes gleamed. “You’ve been interfering with my operations. Burning Administration outposts I had plans for. I expected better discipline from a mercenary with your record.” Snake gave a humorless laugh. “Plans? You think the Administration leaves anyone room for plans? They own everything — our air, our thoughts, our lives. You’re just another dog on their leash, Buu.” The insult hung in the static. For a moment, the only sound was the distant hum of Kalimord’s generators. Buu spoke at last, his voice smooth as oil over metal. “You mistake me for a servant, Snake. I am the leash.” Snake’s face hardened, shadowed by smoke and broken light. “Then you’re the problem. I’m tearing the system down, leash and all.” But then — hesitation. A flicker of calculation in his eyes. He’d seen what Buu could do. What Kalimord’s scientists were building in the dark. Buu leaned closer, as if reading his thoughts. “The Administration fears me as much as they fear you. They outlaw minds like mine, burn knowledge, enslave the free. If Ambroid is to be reborn, it will not be under their rule.” Snake’s tone dropped. “You’re proposing an alliance.” “I’m proposing vengeance,” Buu corrected. “Temporary. Strategic. Once the Administration falls, we settle our differences.” A smirk crossed Snake’s face. “You always did talk like a chessboard, Buu.” “And you always played like a gun,” Buu replied. “Let’s see whose move ends the game.” |
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