In practice, violence was merely a means to an end, used whenever persuasion failed or differing opinions could not be tolerated. Alliances vied for leadership over their communes, spending more time maintaining power than implementing a long-term, effective agenda. Various models and personalities emerged, often rising as quickly as they fell—unless violence and manipulation were used to suppress opposition. As a result, frustration became the defining sentiment of our society, persisting for decades regardless of our civilization’s growth.

We settled in the East, between ravines and islands, shaping our development according to our surroundings. Sailors and merchants established themselves along the coasts, while stonemasons and Syncanite researchers made their homes in the mountains. What united them all was the second wall—a structure in the West, originally built out of lingering doubts about the North. Its networks connected North and South, enabling a unique mobility that allowed resources to be directed precisely where they were needed. This development gave trade a central role, ultimately leading to the foundation of a core district—the first Tycos.

With it came centralization and the establishment of the early guilds. Trade, mining, Syncanite research, and agriculture—these and other sectors structured themselves, improving efficiency through coordination. This took place in the Council, where the leaders of all guilds and communes convened, setting agendas based on the statistics compiled by the bureaucracy. Governance became increasingly technocratic, gradually replacing the subjective politics of the communes. Reason took precedence, along with a growth-oriented mindset driven by numbers and facts, leading to the emergence of a new core belief.

Frustration turned into enthusiasm, reinforced by the successes of the progress-driven technocracy. At the same time, this bred hostility toward the communal representatives, whose influence waned. Tensions rose until they were decisively quelled by the Stability Guarantee Act. Under the coordination of the first Military Council, the communal leaders were stripped of power, and their remaining structures were integrated into the local guilds. The technocrats’ monopoly was solidified.

Thus, the districts of the East grew ever closer, united in their pursuit of steadily increasing productivity, enabling the realization of grand ideas. The curiosity of the Tycans knew no bounds, nor did the efficiency drive of the technocrats, who—unnoticed amidst the euphoria of the masses—had constructed a massive military presence to safeguard their structures. For as much as they were impartial and guided by numbers and facts, some decisions had to be made with brutal and unwavering resolve. This reality led to internal strife in Tycos as resources became increasingly scarce.

Every growth has its limits; every progress eventually becomes redundant. We needed new markets, resources to sustain them, and, ultimately, a state that would guarantee the overarching well-being—if necessary, by shedding as much blood as required to secure it. Yet neither the population nor the technocrats were willing to follow such a dark path—nor did they have to.

A young, unconventional technocrat proposed a simple yet long-criticized solution and pushed it through: massive territorial expansion, far beyond the known horizons. Incentives were created, infrastructure was planned, and a new life in distant lands was promised. Many seized this opportunity, venturing out into the world, exploring, and beginning the colonization of western and, above all, southern territories—always under the protection of the Tycan Council. This growing protectorate status soon elevated them to the Hegemony of the East.