"You couldn't- even- do- that!" The sound of splattering liquid hits the beautiful marbled floor of Supreme emperor Tian Zhao's grand palace. Taken over years ago, he's been spreading the growth of Lixiao, a country growing from small farmers towns in Asia and spreading towards China. His father was a war monger like him; though he lacked flair.

A soldier lays stabbed on the floor, and Tian rubs at his brow, slightly tanned skin cooled by leather gloves caked with blood. "One fucking job!" He hisses at the corpse, sitting down in exhaustion. "I told you to keep journalists happy, yeah? Calm and collected for this dinner, my fab gala-" He sucks his teeth. "And you, you- you just had to kill someone refugees or something and blow it! I'm coming for your family next, you can't hear any of this but you've missed me off." Standing, he glances at the nearest guard. "Deal with it."

Slicking back his artificially lightened hair, darkened at the roots, he straightens his silken green jack. "Got blood of my new shoes, shit. I'll have to grab another pair." He kicks the nearby desk in anger, before looking at the door. "No visitors, please, I'm-" he pauses. "Oh, apologies, my dear. Didn't realize you'd be visiting, eh, don't mind him." He grins like a cat as he sits down, sprawling his arm across the desk. "What can the supreme emperor do for you; hmm?"