Tale - "Modern Sacrilege"

The halls of the enormous Citadel of Stradavar were decorated with centuries-old pillars, built generations before the current city of Stradavar.
The gigantic palace stood in stark contrast to the modern and clamorous city that surrounded it, as the millions of people living in the capital city of the Empire of Sarthale went on with their daily lives unaware of the happenings inside the central fortress.
A glorious and oversized flag of Sarthale flew above the highest peak of the Citadel, as usual. The golden double cross shining distinctly against the black background.

Today there was a special visitor in the chambers of Stradavar, hailing from the frozen mountains of the eastern parts of Noneurope. A diplomat from Snezhnaya.

The Emperor Himself had arranged to meet her, as His servants prepared the ceremonial matte black armor, adorned with gold borders and a double streak down the middle of the chestplate.
This armor, despite its impressive bulk and protective capabilities, was only of ritual use during royal visits and national holidays. Last time He wore it was at the end of the Week of Rememberence, where the Sarthalean peoples congregate and celebrate their continuous survival through the ages.
Built out of the purest gold and titanium, it weighed around two tons.

He sat at His throne, inherited from His father and His father's forebearers.
The diplomat approached Him with the utmost respect, as she was trained by the Lone Queen of the North.

"His Highness, Emperor Arcturus I von Apollyon, Ruler and Grand Emperor of the Confederated Empire of Sarthale and Her Peoples; I am greatly honoured to have the privilege of speaking to Your Highness."
He smiled and stood up from the throne, his imposing figure becoming apparent to the diplomat.
"What is the motive of your visit? Introduce yourself."
"I am Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter, Eight of the Eleven Harbingers," said her; as her cold and harsh accent became more apparent for a moment. "I come with the intention of informing Your Highness of a great crisis that is inaugurating itself."
Satisfied with this reply, He slowly approached her.
"You can drop the formalities a notch. Explain to me the urgency of this crisis at once," ordered Him.
Rosalyne left out a small and almost imperceptible sigh of relief, as she hated speaking with such high regards of anyone other than The Tsaritsa.
"There is a wound at the depths of spacetime-"
"I am aware of it. That gash is no source for concern," interrupted the Emperor.
"I am afraid the magnitude of it has escaped your oh-so-powerful gaze, if you believe it to be harmless," harshly replied the Fair Lady, while expertly maintain the utmost respect in her voice.
"If so, what do you gain by informing me? the Commission Against the Anti-Natural has not received any information about this from the Fatui - let alone a collaboration attempt."

"Simply put, Her Highness The Tsaritsa believes it to be urgent enough to warrant a direct visit to You." He didn't reply, which prompted La Signora to continue explaining. "This wound is affecting more than just your universe; as it is rotting the very core and foundations shared among alternate worlds."
"I understand..." said Arcturus. "I'm certain I can not do much," quickly added Him, with a clear passive tone of apathy.
She tried to come up with a quick and respectful answer.
"We have to cooperate on fixing this. It will end up destroying everything if we do not deal with this wound."
"Just to be sure - is it the one originated from an incident several decades ago?"
"Incident? No, this is much older than us, a flaw on the very base of the interconnected cosmos that has only gotten worse since... since the Dämmerung Foundation was formed," revealed the Snezhnayan diplomat.
"Oh, I am aware of what you are speaking of. No, the Foundation did not start the worsening effects." He paused for a few seconds. "At least not our Foundation."

He walked past the diplomat, while crossing His arms behind His back.
"Not even your Goddess can perceive the stellar orrery that forms the backbone of our universe - a construct I can easily notice. I became aware of this problem a long time ago, my dear Rosalyne."
"Which means you can see the depths of the damage, right?"
"It runs beyond the reach of my sight, but not far enough to not see the start of this worsening state." He looked at one of the gigantic pillars that decorated the central hall of the Citadel. "I sensed the reality of the offenders in question, a much more unstable and dangerous place where gods run rampant and dangerous beasts threaten the very fabric of reality."
The Fair Lady was somewhat captivated by this description - a place where she would thrive even more.
"There are similar deities to our universe in that place. The Scarlet King, Mekhane, Yaldabaoth... No Archons, however. The Foundation equivalent, going by their official motto of 'Secure, Contain, Protect', are behind this current state of affairs."
"And you can see how to solve it?" asked her, a fair bit intrigued, but also fearing a negative answer.
"No. It is inevitable."
She cursed under her breath.
"But, there is a way of making our universe distant enough from them."
"How? How can we do that together?"
"That measure is already in place," bluntly replied the old Emperor.

She stared at Him, perplexed.
"Wh-what do- huh?"
"Those exploiters at the Dämmerung Foundation believe I know nothing about their plans, which is egregiously wrong. I know of their little project to buy us time."
"What is it called? I can... I can do something with that information, certainly," commented Rosalyne.
"They speak of adding Stakes to the Palisade. I can sense their manipulations of the basic aspects of reality in order to create alternate universes - who end up being annihilated because of their engineered instability."
He turned to face the Snezhnayan diplomat, who was thinking of a few followup questions.
"The Apollyonic Commission Against the Anti-Natural will not collaborate on a lost cause with the Fatui," He declared. "There is nothing we can do to stop it; no matter who intervenes."
"I understand, and I will not press you further... However, we also know the Sirens are exploiting this wound in spacetime to their advantage. Is there... anything we could do together?"
"You are coming to me because you do not want to face the Foundation, am I correct?"
She nodded.
"The Sirens have been a threat since I surged to power three-hundred years ago. Containment is the only way of dealing with them - even if they do horrible harm to the world."
"So, nothing. That's what you mean." She had come to hate this man in very little time.
"Correct, yes."
"You choose the status quo then." The Fair Lady started heading towards the opposite end of the hallway - the exit. "You will change your mind in due time, Arcturus von Apollyon."
"If you say so," sarcastically replied Him with a louder voice so she could hear it; fully aware of the distancing both nations would experience from now onwards, as the diplomat from afar began exiting the building.
That did not bother Him, however. What bothered Arcturus von Apollyon is the idea that the Fatui might do something incredibly stupid.

Part 1: Changing Winds

The free city-state of Monsdtadt was known to the general world as a secluded nation to the south of the Idontknowium islands. Being neighbours to one of the freest and most well known nations in the world, the small independent city wouldn't be any different; as they enjoyed extreme peace and tranquility.
The only institution that could be considered a 'ruling body' in the free city was the Ordo Favonius, an organized group of knights who were formed to defend the nation when the geopolitical landscape of Noneurope was much more aggressive.

The idyllic, green city was protected by ancient walls, while some small towns dotted the limited land of the city-state.
And Foundation agent