Chapter Sixty: The Marquis of Planet Mittentron

Just a few light years away from the border of the Planetary Co-Operation, a medium Planet exists known in the solemn name of Mittentron, a yellowish green planet where a combination of races thrive, and live, and work in peace. There was something special about this planet, too, quite similar to Planet Easter Baskets, and at some point, this viable place has been a subject of controversy in the many political debates in the capital of the Co-Operation, Planet rue Dominard.

The principal motivation of the controversy remained a secret, though. It was nothing too important at that time (in fact, nobody actually cared at that time), which, later on, will prove to become one of the most terrible mistakes in the political arena that will fuel the future of chaos and the desperate attempt to pose a challenge to the status quo of the planetary systems that correspond to the true nature of the cosmos.

The Planet Mittentron is ruled by a singular clan who were responsible for its early development and national prosperity, drenched in the proper impetus of love and (quite) excessive utility of hope, which, in simple terms, tells the candid universe that Mittentron was being governed responsibly in the path towards the state of an elusive peace.

The issue that troubled these politicians in rue Dominard was actually a trivial matter when passed on in a shallow consideration of all the aspects of the issues debated, but it was very clear to the local authorities of the planet that it was a grave concern that needed close attention. It was troubling to a considerable extent that requires political will to solve and offer a well-crafted solution.

But, despite the prosperous state of this planet, and considering its very unfavorable location within the planetary systems, a threat looms outside the Outer Rims of the Co-Operation, a sure danger is present somewhere off the border, a tragic event waiting to happen like a ticking time bomb; meanwhile, in rue Dominard, in spite of the presence of a credible threat, the transcript of the executive session was forbidden to be exposed to public awareness by the signing of an Agreement to have the secrecy enforced in the form of an involuntary bond.

It was very silly for the leadership of Planet Mittentron to have consented to this one-sided Agreement. The Marquis was simply blindsided by the volatile considerations arising from a glamorized false precondition of the matter considered.

There was an existing myth that the free legends always foretold, within the precepts of the Planet itself, and it is an attribution to the deeper calling that is ultimately reserved to the Lore. It was later on decided that these myths were remnants very similar to the world of Fantasy, but it was quite impossible to think of this case that way due to lack of sufficiency in the preponderance of evidence.

It is not logically possible for the several planetary systems to consent to a merge with the substantive qualities of the realms of the bounds of Fantasy, being a declared lower ranked civilization than the Planetary governments that preceded its annexation. In fact, the Lore of Commons have provided enough literature to offer elucidation on this conclusion through the intimate links between the story of the Planets as opposed to the realm of the said world.

For now, there is danger in the future. And the danger will more likely pronounce a sudden war of dormition, both to be considered an inside conflict and the forces outside the Planetary security that manages the natural balance of legally defined Toll regulations.

Of course, the Marquis is enlightened about this, he was well-advised, despite the many colors of malice that blur the entirety of the truth. Indeed, there is a compelling reason to keep the doors of the Lore of Commons closed, but it is not even about the protection of the Constitution or the duties of the Republicists. There is a reason with extended consequences, and it is very sinister.

There is a much deeper calling, it seems; it was a song of the soul. There is music to be heard in harmony, and the wave lengths of the tune corresponds to the magical element of time. The physical clock is at work. The channels are too open, but the reception is poor.

x----------x

Picture from Pexels.