Dear Citizen,

I’m sorry you had to see that.  I was sorry to see it myself.  As you know, I, and many like me, resigned ourselves to Terminus to attempt the building a New Empire.  However, our Empire is not a new invention or remodel of an older version.  Our Empire is to be entirely based upon the old Empire.  It is a replica, a replacement.  It is our love of the old Empire that inspires us in the creation of the new.

And it is through that love that we watched the desecration of the legislative chambers of your Empire.  It was through the ears of a farmer crouched in a bunker, hearing hailstones pound his home and field. 

Is it worse to be the crops in the field, unaware of the building storm and the ensuing destruction, blissfully waving in the wind only to be cut down in an instant?  No, the farmer has the bigger burden.  She tended the crops, curated the seeds, nurtured the saplings, and reveled in her bounty.  However, she also checked the weather daily, she knew of the potential destruction, and even when she warned her family and brought them into her storm shelter, her heart broke for the rooted family she could not protect.  So it is with me, dear Citizen. 

The Halls of The Imperial Congress were the shining example for all mankind.  They witnessed the saplings of liberty spring forth and grow into the most abundant prosperity ever known.  But unlike you and the remaining members of The Empire, we on Terminus checked the weather.  We knew a foul wind had risen in the West, we knew a new pattern had emerged, and we knew it would decimate and demolish every leaf and stem of our once glorious crop.

I am truly, deeply sorry that you witnessed the carnage.  But the desecration of Congress was knowable, predicted, and preventable.  This storm was raised by mankind, promoted by mankind, and released by mankind. 

You’ve only experienced the first squall.  

Take Shelter my Friend,

Terminus.