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Chapter 425 Thirty Minutes to Midnight

But despite all the protests, there were still people that supported Aron’s plan. There were actually four categories that people fell into. Those that absolutely hated everything about the empire plan, those that disliked it to the point that they fell victim to incitements and joined the protests against it, those that didn’t like the plan but supported Aron himself, and those that would be happy to see the empire formed.

Most of Aron’s support came from nations suffering under overwhelming poverty, rampant government corruption and oppression, and other assorted negative conditions that affected their day-to-day lives. The way Aron had uplifted both Eden and Esparia had given the downtrodden citizens of the world hope that he could do the same for them.

Eden and Esparia were the best advertisements for Aron, as they were in the same situation just a few short years ago, suffering under brutal, corrupt dictatorships and the oppression of the world at large. Their recent turnaround and rapid rise over the past few years seemed almost magical, like all Aron had to do was wave a magic wand and everyone around him would be uplifted from the dirt and given back their dignity. And that was without him being in direct control over a country; what more could he do if he was actually the one in sole control?

And with those thoughts in mind, Aron’s supporters took to the streets as well, staging counterprotests in support of his agenda, which had become inevitable with the ratification of the new constitution. In a few short days, he would be officially taking his place as the emperor of humanity.

The only thing that could stop him now was if the world suddenly stopped turning.

Other than the people who supported and were against Aron, there was another, much smaller group of people. They were those who were much more calm and rational, and they were absolutely convinced that there was no way Aron could be stopped no matter what they tried to do to prevent the change from happening exactly on schedule.

Herschel and Virginia Rothschild were two such people.

“I wonder how he’s going to do it,” Herschel said to his wife, who was sitting next to him.

“Do what, exactly?” Virginia asked.

“Well, he needs to do a lot of things in an impossibly short time frame.” Herschel began counting them on his fingers, a habit he had picked up from his wife over the past decades of marriage.

“He needs to implement the government—” One finger went up.

“At the same time, he needs to implement the new constitution and enforce it—” A second finger went up.

“And he needs to publish a Universal Code of Imperial Law and teach it to lawyers, judges, and police,” he continued, raising two more fingers.

“There must also be guidelines for every imperial agency, as well as the ministries—” Another two fingers went up.

“And he needs to select, appoint, shuffle, and train all of the millions upon millions of newly hired government employees.” Herschel glared at his hand, having run out of fingers to count on. “It’ll take years for all of that to happen. Years during which even more variables will arise. So it seems like he’s taking on an impossible task. Did he really bite off more than he can chew, or is he just that confident in being able to accomplish the impossible? Oi, that boy really makes my head hurt!”

Veins had popped out all over Herschel’s forehead, almost like his body was signaling its agreement that, yes, his head hurt.

“So why not call him then? I’m pretty sure you’ll faint if you keep trying to figure out what he’s thinking on your own,” Virginia said, rather exasperated with being constantly dragged into her husband’s thoughts when all the answers would naturally be revealed later on.

“Oh, right!” she continued. “I remember Rina said they were going to visit soon, I wonder when that’ll be.” She picked up her Zeus One and dialed her daughter’s number.

“If that boy can surprise me again, I’ll acknowledge him!” Herschel muttered under his breath, then laid his head on his wife’s shoulder so that his ear was nearer her phone, a more convenient position from which to eavesdrop on the phone call between his wife and rebellious daughter.

……

New Year’s Eve, half an hour before midnight.

The streets of New York City were unusually empty as the clock inexorably ticked toward the new year. It was even the first time since 1943 that Times Square was empty and without a crowd awaiting the Times Square Ball to fall, ringing in the new year. Dropped for the first time in 1907, the ball had remained a tradition year after year, come rain, snow, or bitter cold, save for in 1942 and 1943 when it was suspended as part of the war support and conservation efforts.

This year, the ball would be falling as usual, but everyone who would have been watching it were glued to their screens at home, where the media was talking about the first appearance of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Aron Michael of the Terran Empire, First of His Name, the Peacebringer, the Unifier, the Defender of Earth and All He Surveys, Leader of Mankind and Conqueror of Space. He was scheduled to appear for the first time in all of his imperial glory at 12:01am, New York time.

Even the protests had temporarily gone silent and all of the protesters were home around the world, glued to their screens as firmly as the residents of New York City. The mood was somber as people thought back on the recent troubled times; the discovery of aliens, the aborted fight for supremacy in the United Nations, the war for unification and the reveal that followed.... It had been a truly eventful year.

And the year to come promised to be just as, if not more, eventful. After all, everyone would be losing something—their freedom—and it remained to be seen whether losing that ephemeral concept of freedom would be worthwhile or a bad trade.

Thus, it was either a time of mourning or a time of hope for everyone on Earth. But despite their individual feelings, everyone had decided to watch the first official speech from their new leader, Emperor Aron Michael. It would mark the end of the old world and the beginning of the new, and everyone was interested in what he had to say. He would be their new emperor, like it or not, after all, no matter how long or short his reign may be.

Soon, the clock struck midnight and the screens switched to the now-familiar empty podium with the blank blue wall behind it. This time, there were no flags in the flag holders at the back of the stage, nor was there any iconography on the podium. It was a simple wooden stand without even a single microphone atop it.

Then, the clock struck 12:01 AM.