[center][img]https://i.redd.it/9uqlbqg236my.png[/img][h1][b]MAN OF IRON[/b][/h1]
[i]"Ye men who wander the worlds, let ye know that ye are all mine sons of steel and that ye shall see great things in time's passing."[/i][/center]
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Fifth day of the week, fourth night spent without sleep. An aching leg and an aching mind kept the middle-aged man awake in the silent nights twisted embrace yet another time. Vehement to oppose the will of the medicine and its overwhelming Power over him, Jacob has refrained from using the pumps, the needles, and the pills for weeks, but it has made him none the wiser in return. It was a fruitless battle caked in vain glory of which only he, himself could acknowledge. To others, his battle against pain seemed trivial, in fact nonexisting, because they are incapable of sharing his sense of taste, his smell, and his ache.

The sun had risen for the fifth time this week, but its rays shot at his blood sprangled eyes. It would be another Vicious day to overcome, and the thought of it, made him cake in to his urges immediately. There was a war to win, a World to unite, and a people to rule! It is no easy task to act as the leader of a region, and Jacob was all too aware of its severe impacts and implications, having run it behind the scenes for a long while now.

The incompetent Count sits soullessly on the regal seat of his station merely as a visage, an illusion of authority to assure that the County of Zhaochen is actually an opponent to be reckoned with, as opposed to its divided reality. Factions vie for Control not only in the faction at large, but within every aspect of Life, there're not only royalists, but royalist zhaochen loyalists, and those who support Jacob's foreign involvement. Fortunately for him, those number the majority. Even if Jacob would not have the faith of the people behind his decisions, it is not unlikely that he'd retain the position so long as he was still breathing enough to do so, the Count is still competent enough to understand that his work needs to be done.

Jacob rose out of the far too comfortable bed, and slid his legs to the side of the bed, the sight of his stump taking the wind out of his soul each time he sees it. He edged over to the side of the bed table, and grabbed the prosthetic comfortably resting on the tableside. He attached it to his leg, and rose out of the bed, the entire process taking far too much meaningless time. He scooted over towards the medicine cabinet, and shot up on all the Essentials necessary to lead a comfortable Life for the rest of the day without fear of too much unnecessary implications, after which he clothed himself in his usual attire, one sprangled with the pride of which only the people of Geisel to attest to.

Once done, he proceeded downstairs, into the quarters of his general secretary, although now given the horrendous task of acting as defacto secretarian for all the County's business-related inquiries. 

Jacob limped into the door, cane, as Always, by his trusty side. He loudly proclaimed, "Who does the nation want to kill now?", Before turning around to look at the strategic map fitted to the wall opposite of the secretary's work desk, the usual smugness tapered all over his face.