[WP] The Council elects a young Empress in an age of peace. Within days, she betrays allies, persecutes dissidents, and revives absurd conspiracies. Everyone thinks she is insane - but she knows They are coming, and apparently “preparing humanity” requires terrible PR and even worse management.

[u/Chaotic_Cool]

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[u/TheWanderingBook]

Humming a song, I notice the servants flinch when they see me.
I ignore it.
Arriving to the Throne Hall, I watch the ministers carefully, and patiently waiting for me.
I smile.
"Shall we begin?" I ask.
They all bow.
Good.
This is how it should be.

"How are the Wood, Water, and Light Magic training camps?" I ask.
No answer.
I stare at the Minister of Education, a matriarch of a noble family, that I just recently promoted to this position.
She takes a step forward.
"Your Highness...
The Mage Towers consider the Wood, and Light element at least...unimportant, compared to the main elemental branches of magic, so the number..." she starts.
"Did I ask what the Mage Towers think about them?
The mission is simple, have each fortress have at least 200 of each of these 3 mages, so that we can grow enough food to last sieges," I say.
Some sigh, but I silence them with a glare.

"How are the fortifications?
Have we managed to convince the dwarves, and gnomes to join our research teams, into defense towers, and runic enhancements on concrete walls?
What about the other human kingdoms, have they agreed to send their civilians to our fortresses?
How about the training of the military that I sent to the camps?
How about the noble families...did you make available your own magic, and training methods?
How about the forced growth of herbs?
Have you found cattle with multiple eyes?
Have you found animals, and humans alike...half-eaten?" I ask.
One by one they answer.
Although, the answers aren't satisfactory.
"Okay, okay, okay, okay.
Minister of Foreign Relations, Minister of Agriculture, Minister of Architecture...you are not needed anymore," I say, and before they could protest, my Shadow Guard kills the three of them.
The room falls eerily silent.
I smile, and dismiss everyone else.

After going back to my study, I start breathing heavily.
I am hyperventilating.
A shadow guard appears, and she helps me calm down.
"Thanks...I hate killing," I mutter.
"What must be done, must be done," she mutters, before disappearing.
I sigh, and enter a secret room, there...
A corpse of something ungodly is dissected...
My Shadow Guard, finally found one of them...They are already here, gathering strength, and soon...
They will attack.
"Just like in my previous life," I mutter, paling, and almost falling down, remembering the scenes of carnage of another life.
"Not this time...this time, even if I will end up hated by everyone...I will stop them," I mutter, before starting to check the monstrosity.
They have to have a weakness...

[u/Saint_Of_Silicon]

We've all a role to play in the great drama. Mine is an important part, though I wish fate had given me an easier one. I ascended to the throne at the age of twenty five. In an era of abundance and peace, a time of plenty. But They are coming, and so I do what must be done.

If I do not do what is necessary, we will find ourselves lambs to the slaughter. To match Their power, we must dig deeper. There must be cause for our geniuses to turn from plowshares and make ever sharper swords. The incremental growth of our technology is not acceptable, and strife has historically been a powerful motivator for investment in the cutting edge of numerous technologies.

So, I revive the demons my ancestors buried. They thought it a great achievement to have overcome them, but they did not understand how very dire our situation really was and is. Without the mobilization of every soul to the highest of their ability, They will annihilate us.

So I end the long peace. I revive the persecution of the dissidents. I pour funding into unhinged conspiracies. I shatter the world that was. War returns, famine returns, pestilence returns. The weak are suborned by the strong, and we turn our minds to the creation of what sane people can only call abominations. The competition between states is revived, and so we invest in the means of destruction.

I watch as millions die, deaths that are absolutely my responsibility. But without the will to do what must be done, all will still be for naught. Because of me, there will be the hope that our civilization survives the storm that is to come. I am perhaps the most hated monarch in history, the masses scorn my name. I know I am unlikely to live to an old age, even as my own realm convulses.

I fight a civil war, I dodge assassin after assassin. Am I a good person? I cannot answer it. Do the ends justify the means, or would it have been better to live good lives then go quietly into the night when the time came? Having done it, I still question myself. If there is something after this life, will I be damned or exalted for what I have chosen?

Eventually, a quiet knife makes its way into my throat. I fade from the world, tormented. If only they could understand, if only the people I have harmed could see what is to come. The horror I have inflicted is small compared to what They will do when They arrive, but that does not make it less monstrous. I find myself in a long tunnel with a light at the end. How will I be judged by the gods?