The Senan National Television, radio, and all official information dissemination channels fully resud broadcasting on the second day after the coup.
Isis, the newly appointed President of Sena, sat solemnly in a simply furnished office.
He wore a well-fitted dark formal suit, his hair ticulously grood, with a moderate expression of seriousness and sorrow on his face.
A large, brand-new flag of the Republic of Sena hung on the background wall behind him.
"...Fellow compatriots."
Isis's voice, transmitted through the microphone, reached every corner of Sena clearly, "This is a difficult mont, but also a hopeful new beginning."
With a determined gaze, he looked straight into the cara: "I, Isis, solemnly declare my assumption of office as the temporary President of the Republic of Sena! My foremost mission is to end the bloody conflict, restore national order, and ensure the safety and basic dignity of every Sena citizen!"
The screen tily switched, showing carefully edited footage—
Governnt army soldiers distributing food and drinking water to civilians; dical staff attending to the injured in makeshift clinics; engineering vehicles clearing the rubble from the streets of the capital...
Though not large in scale, it conveyed a signal of "restoration."
Isis's voice sounded again, filled with sorrow and condemnation: "However, the path to peace is not easy! The remnants of the forr regi, Lumar and his controlled rebel forces, ignore the call of the nation and the will of the people, still entrenched in the eastern mountains, stubbornly resisting! They attack civilians, destroy infrastructure, and obstruct humanitarian aid! They are the greatest obstacle to Sena's peace process! The tumor of national unity and reconstruction!"
His tone suddenly beca severe: "Here, in my capacity as the temporary President of the Republic of Sena, I declare: Lumar and his ard gang are traitorous organizations! Enemies of the state! Any actions that continue to follow Lumar, oppose the legitimate governnt, threaten national security, and endanger the well-being of the people will be severely punished by law!"
The footage switched again to several blurred but highly impactful videos: soldiers suspected to be Lumar's ard forces robbing villages; destroyed bridges and roads; and several civilian corpses lying by the roadside.
Behind the cara, Song Heping was watching the footage from behind a monitor.
Currently, he was nominally a senior adviser to Isis.
Though he held no actual position within the cabinet, everyone knew that Song Heping, like the French, had extrely significant influence over Isis's governnt in current Sena.
Actions like this televised speech, sending troops to distribute food, cleaning the streets, and those clips showing Lumar's army robbing villages were all strategic asures.
Gaining public support through stark contrasts—Song Heping was all too familiar with this approach.
Isis's performance pleased Song Heping greatly.
"The young can be taught..."
A slight smile appeared on his lips.
"But!"
Isis's voice softened again, with a sense of compassion and tolerance.
"I am well aware that many soldiers are coerced or deceived. Sena needs reconciliation, needs unity! Therefore, I declare: From the ti of this announcent, within seventy-two hours, all officers and soldiers willing to lay down their arms, leave the rebels, and return to lawful order, will be granted amnesty by the governnt, guaranteeing their personal safety and assisting them in returning to normal life!"
"As for Lumar himself."
Isis's gaze beca incredibly sharp, like an ice awl, "This is your last chance! Turn back from the precipice, surrender unconditionally and submit to the judgnt of the law! This is the only right choice for yourself and those who follow you! Otherwise, the only fate awaiting you is total annihilation!"
The declaration ended.
The screen froze on Isis's resolute face and the brand-new national flag behind him.
The declaration was like a boulder thrown into the tumultuous waters of Sena.
In the capital and governnt-controlled areas, crowds gathered in front of radio and TV sets in the streets and alleys, their faces a mixture of confusion, exhaustion, and a faint hope for an end to the chaos.
anwhile, in the northern mountains, the soldiers listened to the word "amnesty," their expressions flickering.
In Lumar's stronghold, the declaration ca through the airwaves, like the most venomous curse and the heaviest death knell.
The old television that Lumar smashed had already been replaced by a more powerful radio.
At this mont, Isis's clear, stern, and final-judgnt-like voice was pouring continuously through the speakers, filling the oppressive space.
"...Lumar and his ard gang are traitorous organizations! Enemies of the state!..."
"...Within seventy-two hours...lay down your arms...amnesty..."
"...Lumar himself...last chance...surrender unconditionally...or else...total annihilation..."
Every word was like a cold steel needle, piercing fiercely into Lumar's eardrums, stabbing his heart.
He stood stiffly, like a petrified statue, at the giant map table, with his back to his aides.
His body was taut as if he were about to explode in the next second.
Only his hands, trembling slightly on the edge of the table, betrayed the tumultuous waves surging within him.
Humiliation!
Unprecedented disgrace! That puppet supported by rcenaries dared to announce over the broadcast, in front of the entire nation and even the world, to declare him, a ritorious general of the Republic of Sena, as a "traitor" and "enemy"! And demand his "unconditional surrender"?!
"Bastard!! Son of a bitch!!!"
A voice, suppressed to the extre, like a wounded lone wolf, finally erupted from the depths of Lumar's throat.
He turned abruptly, his eyes bloodshot, filled with a web of crimson veins, and his ferocious killing intent erupted almost tangibly.
The aides were so overwheld by this terrifying aura that they collectively took a step back, their faces pale.
"General! General!"
The intelligence officer practically stumbled in, holding a freshly translated telegram sheet, his voice shrill and distorted from extre fear, "The African Union... the African Union headquarters... an official statent!"
Lumar's bloodshot eyes jerked violently towards him, a gaze like a dagger dipped in poison.
The intelligence officer shuddered in fear and stamred as he read aloud, "The African Union Peace and Security Council... after urgent consultations... deems the current situation in Sena complex... the transitional governnt has shown efforts to restore order... urging all parties to exercise maximum restraint... avoid escalation of violence... emphasize... resolving differences through peaceful dialogue... the African Union... the African Union currently... does not... does not plan... to deploy Peacekeeping Forces..."
"Not planning... to intervene?"
Lumar murmured these words, the rage and murderous intent on his face instantly solidifying, then fading like a receding tide, leaving only an extre, hollow paleness.
The last pillar supporting his hope and madness had collapsed with a crash.
The British...
What about their promises?
What about their diplomatic pressure?!
The African Union... even the African Union has abandoned him?!
He was completely and rcilessly betrayed!
The whole world was standing against him!
He had now beco truly isolated!
Like a fish waiting to be slaughtered on the chopping block!
A massive dizziness suddenly struck.
Lumar felt the ground beneath him spinning, collapsing.
His vision went black, and his body staggered uncontrollably, stepping backward, heavily leaning against the cold, rough stone wall.
The heavy impact echoed unusually clearly in the deathly silent mine.
He slid down the stone wall, sitting slowly on the ground, his expensive camouflage combat uniform sared with grayish-white rock powder.
Only his violently heaving chest and his fists clenched so tightly that his nails pierced into his palms, oozing blood, showed what kind of storm and complete collapse he was experiencing internally.
It's over.
Everything is over.
The hope for international intervention has completely shattered.
The African Union has closed the door to sending troops.
Isis and that Song Heping held absolute moral and legal high ground, even throwing out the bait of "amnesty" to undermine his soldiers' morale!
While he, Lumar, had only the few brigades left, defending a lonely mountain with depleted supplies, and a shaful label of "traitor."
Despair, cold as ice, penetrating to the bone, like eternal frost deep within the mine, instantly devoured and froze him.
Just then, the sharp, urgent, death-knell-like ringing of the only phone connecting to the outside secure line in the command post corner suddenly pierced through the silence!
Buzz Buzz Buzz——
The ringing reverberated in the silent mine, the gaze of all the officers like iron to a magnet, instantaneously focused on the satellite phone on the table, then turning in terror, uniformly towards the slumped Lumar by the stone wall.
The ringing persisted, each peal tighter than the last, with a cold, unavoidable penetration.
Lumar's body shook violently.
He raised his head with difficulty.
The once formidable face now only bore defeat and despair, muscles contorted.
He stared fixedly at the incessantly vibrating satellite phone.
As if it were not a communication tool, but a summons from hell.
His intuition told him where the call ca from.
The staff were frozen in place, even holding their breaths, the mine enveloped only by the fateful ringing and Lumar's heavy breathing.
Lumar stood up extrely slowly, reaching towards the scarlet phone.
Every movent consud a force as heavy as a thousand pounds.
"Hello... this is Lumar."
He took a deep breath and spoke first.
"Who are you?"
"Heh heh."
The voice on the other end was the one Lumar least wanted and most hated to hear.
It was that guy who had risen from hell.
"I am your old friend, Song Heping."
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