Joseph Bolongo sat in his chair amused with his accomplishment. Being able to kill the King and countless others with the push of a button. A few button actually were required as he had to make a phone call to give the authorization. No matter, he would tell the press in the future it was just the push of a button. Bolongo was a man of modest stature, and wore his black beret with a random Kadikistani emblem on his with a certain sense of revolutionary flair that he found amusing. His supporters were a mix of Himyarites and ideologies. Bolongo did not care for ideological games though. His own game was independence and he was to be Nzadiland’s strongman. How he did it did not matter. The problem was it seemed his revolutionaries while proving capable in the beheading of the snake were unable to realize that merely cutting off the head of a snake did not win a war. The Anti-Gallic Forces in Louisville were unable to complete their raid of the important governmental buildings. Even still Bolongo sat happily. The King was dead, his mother was dead, his wife was dead, an entire set of guards, and whoever else was in company were also dead. A revolution was not won in one night. There was a knock on the door. « Yes, come in » replied Bolongo. The door opened and his second in command, Mubutu Motombo saluted. « President! We are ready to broadcast your message to the people! » Bolongo smiled, « Excellent! I shall join you at once ». Bolongo half-heartedly returned the salute and Motombo left the room leaving the door open behind him. Bolongo removed his beret and walked over to the mirror. He was in army fatigues covered in a camouflage that was similar to the type used by Natalians in Loago. Surplus items like this could be found across Nzadiland. He put on a similarly camouflaged cap with five general stars on the face and smiled as he walked into the adjacent room. It was not a particularly large room. Perhaps a dining room at one point in time. The house they were residing in was probably once owned by a Small Lander mogul who had long left this life behind. Motombo quietly motioned for Bolongo to stand on some electrical tape affixed to the floor to indicate where to stand. Bolongo walked there and Motombo counted down with his fingers from ten... « People of Nzadiland! Today I can tell you that the King is dead! His death is not one that should be mourned, but one that should be celebrated! I proclaim this day the Independence Day of Nzadiland and the proclamation of the Democratic People’s Republic of Nzadiland! As I speak, our paramilitaries raid offices across our vast nation. Our independence will not be given to us though. Every action we take will have an resisting action, but fear not as our people have the heart to win every battle that we may face. I pledge our people to the cause of Himyari socialism and this doctrine of equality for all Nethians. You may have heard of this before as Bolongo’s promise, but I am not a man of such vanity. » He shook his finger with disapproval. « No, no, no. I am a man of the people, and so this is Nzadi Socialism with characteristics of Bolongo’s promise. This belongs to you, and I shall only have a guiding hand in your freedom from the empires of the Gallians. We will crush the Gallians that will want to take us for fools and steal our land and our materials for their own profits. Their boot will be removed from our head and place swiftly in their behind! I will take us there, and I alone can take us there! Nzadiland forever! Nzadiland for freedom! » He shook his fist and held it in a pose before the cellphone cameraman gave him the okay fingers. Bolongo smiled. His revolution had begun.