The Council Hall of the Ehrenfeld-Austrian Empire was once a ballroom. Now, it bore flags from every region: Czechia, Slovakia, Hungary, Carinthia, Lower Austria, and more. Reconstruction had begun.
Hans stood before the gathered leaders: governors, military heads, economists, technocrats, guildmasters. The flames of war had scorched the realm—but in its ashes, plans had bloomed.
"We have stability," Hans began, "but peace is a garden that must be tended—or it rots."
He stepped aside, allowing Minister Albrecht Franz to unveil a massive reconstruction blueprint titled: Operation Phoenix.
It outlined:
Restoration of destroyed cities: Bratislava, Brno, parts of Vienna.
Federal Infrastructure Program: using awakened skill holders to rapidly rebuild roads, power lines, and hospitals.
Guild Integration Treaty: transforming combat guilds into civilian or security agencies under the Ministry of Harmony.
Repatriation Act: inviting war-displaced citizens home with state subsidies and housing.
But tension flickered.
Engelhardt: "We need to rearm. Monsters still roam the Black Forest. The Western Front is unstable."
Economist Karla Roth: "And we have no gold! You want hospitals or tanks?"
A sharp debate ensued. Hans let it spiral—then raised his hand.
"We will not become a paranoid empire. We will rebuild with strength, yes—but not at the cost of our humanity."
He issued new decrees:
The Vienna Accord – balancing 60% of funds to reconstruction, 25% to defense, and 15% to international diplomacy.
The Awakener Draft – allowing skill holders to serve in reconstruction for pay and recognition, rather than conscription into the army.
The Crown Census – a population registry to assess losses, births, and workforce availability.
As the hall quieted, Hans ended the session with a solemn promise:
"We are not rebuilding an empire of the past. We are building a new civilization—bound not by blood alone, but by purpose."
Outside, workers were already laying steel beams where old towers had fallen. Cranes soared. Light returned to broken neighborhoods. Children laughed again.
And far above them, on a cathedral rebuilt by Officer-class masons, the Iron Crown flag fluttered in the morning sun—newly stitched with a phoenix crest.