Montelupo's dawn was without gunfire.
Leithanien's 1st Armored Division tanks halted at major intersections, their turrets lowered.
Infantry took over city defense, maintaining strict discipline as they set up checkpoints at street corners, inspecting anyone attempting to carry weapons.
Signora Sicilia's official residence had been secured.
General Taylor did not enter there; he established his command post in the City-State Joint Council Hall.
As dawn barely broke, dozens of military tents were erected in the square before the council hall.
This was not a POW camp, but a people's relief station.
"Don't crowd! Everyone will get their share!"
A Leithanien logistics officer shouted through a loudspeaker, directing soldiers to unload steaming buckets of oatmeal porridge from trucks.
Crowds gathered, initially laced with fear and suspicion.
In Siracusa, there had never been such a thing as a free lunch.
"Really no charge?" an emaciated old woman asked timidly.
"Imperial citizens, free of charge." The soldier shoved a bowl of porridge into her hands.
The old woman froze; the scalding bowl stung her withered fingers.
She took a sip, and murky tears spilled from her eyes.
On the other side of the square, the red flag flew high.
Inside the mobile people's clinic, Leithanien military doctors and accompanying medical volunteers began receiving patients.
"Next."
A ragged Infected was wheeled in.
In Siracusa, the Infected were no different from livestock—mere tools for the families.
His companions watched the Leithanien military doctors in terror—those in white coats and protective masks.
The military doctor showed no disgust, skillfully examining the Originium crystals on his body.
"Chronic malnutrition plus harsh environment; administer suppressant first."
"Two people, help move him to the isolation tent."
These scenes played out across Montelupo's districts.
Food, medicine, order.
Leithanien tore away the old regime's fig leaf in the simplest, most direct way.
Inside the council hall, the atmosphere was entirely different.
General Taylor stood before a map as intelligence and interior ministry officials reported to him.
"General, resistance in the city has been largely cleared."
"The Saluzzo family and Bellone family have announced compliance with management and handed over their family rosters; other minor families are still watching."
"No need to watch." Taylor didn't look up.
"Tell them: by sunset, all armed personnel must assemble at the western drill ground. Disobeyers will be treated as rebels."
"The young people have arrived," the intelligence officer reported.
Giancarlo, Lavinia Falcone, and others entered the council hall escorted by Leithanien soldiers.
"General." Giancarlo bowed deeply.
Taylor nodded. "You're just in time."
"By His Majesty's decree, the 'Siracusa Transitional Administrative Committee' is established immediately, composed jointly of imperial envoys and outstanding local Siracusans."
"Mr. Giancarlo, Miss Falcone, you will be among the first members of the committee."
Lavinia clenched her fists.
Yesterday, she was a family traitor; today, she would help govern the nation.
"Your task is to assist Commissioner Smith in restoring city operations, pacifying the populace, and preparing to take over family assets." Taylor turned to an accompanying Leithanien civilian official.
Smith was a typical Leithanien bureaucrat—rigid and meticulous.
He unfolded a document. "Miss Falcone, we need your assistance in inventorying the Falcone family assets."
"Mr. Giancarlo, the university must resume classes, but textbooks need replacement; the imperial Ministry of Medicine and Education will provide new outlines."
"What... what do we do?" Giancarlo was somewhat dazed.
"Do what you want to do," Smith adjusted his glasses.
"Build a family-free Siracusa, starting by clearing the trash."
...
Signora Sicilia sat quietly in her study.
Outside the window, Leithanien soldiers were changing the guard posts.
She maintained the poise of a great family head, as if none of this concerned her.
The door opened, and Serafina entered.
The empire's Foreign Liaison Minister carried herself with impeccable grace, her presence in no way inferior to Siracusa's former ruler.
"Signora Sicilia, you've had a fright." Serafina nodded slightly.
Signora Sicilia raised her eyelids. "Did His Majesty send you to humiliate me?"
"Quite the opposite; His Majesty sent me with his regards and respect." Serafina sat across from her.
"His Majesty admires your efforts over the years to maintain Siracusa's stability, though... the methods are debatable."
"Victors always judge history as they please."
"We have no intention of judging." Serafina got straight to the point.
"Siracusa's old era is over, Madam. You have two choices."
"One: trial as a war criminal, your family erased entirely."
"Two: as Siracusa's symbol, accept the empire's honors."
Signora Sicilia fell silent.
"His Majesty will bestow upon you the titles of 'Imperial Honorary Citizen' and 'Siracusa Cultural Commissioner,' and invite you to relocate to Trullinczentyr."
This was house arrest.
"Do I have a choice?" Signora Sicilia smiled self-mockingly.
She knew refusal would see families hungry for positions in the new order tear her apart first.
Like Saluzzo.
"A wise choice." Serafina rose.
"Tomorrow, an imperial special train will take you; Trullinczentyr's opera house awaits your presence."
...
That afternoon, a 'Proclamation to All Citizens of Siracusa' was posted throughout Montelupo's streets and alleys.
"...The dark page of family rule is forever turned; effective immediately, Siracusa abolishes the city-state joint system and merges into the Leithanien Empire."
"The empire will dispatch a governor to implement new laws and tax systems."
"All family private properties are nationalized and redistributed; all those displaced by family feuds are permitted to return home."
"All oppressed Infected will gain equal citizenship and medical assure."
This proclamation was heavenly gospel for commoners and Infected.
For family members, it was doomsday.
At the Falcone family manor, Old Falcone was confined to his bedroom.
Lavinia entered with Smith and a squad of soldiers.
"You... unfilial daughter!" Old Falcone pointed at his daughter, trembling with rage.
"Father, your era is over." Lavinia looked at him calmly.
"Per imperial law, this manor and all factories and lands in your name will be confiscated for resettling homeless citizens."
"You dare!"
"There's nothing I dare not do." Lavinia presented the list.
"Please sign to cooperate with the imperial liquidation; you may retain pension funds."
Old Falcone slumped in defeat.
All he had painstakingly built vanished in his daughter's cold words.
Similar scenes unfolded across Siracusa.
Bernardo Bellone was calmer.
He proactively gathered family members and announced the family's dissolution.
"The new order I pursued has arrived, though not by my hand." He told his son Leon.
"Go study in a Leithanien school; forget everything here."
Alberto Saluzzo showed astonishing adaptability.
He not only surrendered all arms but offered family ledgers, requesting an advisory role in the new government and proposing to send his daughter Lappland to study in Trullinczentyr.
His pragmatism preserved most of his liquid assets.
...
On the third day, a Leithanien light transport plane landed outside Montelupo.
The hatch opened, and a woman in black military attire with a stern demeanor stepped down.
She wore a military cap and carried a longsword at her waist; every step exuded formidable authority.
Herlinmarte Hildegard, the Black Ram, once one of Leithanien's twins.
Taylor, Smith, and Transitional Committee members awaited at the foot of the ramp.
"Welcome, Governor!"
Herlinmarte surveyed the city in ruins, her gaze finally settling on Giancarlo and Lavinia.
"Siracusans."
"Remember: this land is now Leithanien's."
"My name is Herlinmarte Hildegard. My rules are the law."
The black ram brought an iron fist.
Siracusa's harsh winter had only just begun.
________________________________________
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