The Golden Eagle banners waved proudly over Washingtonium Maximus as senators, governors, merchants, generals, and an unusually nervous group of environmental scribes assembled beneath the enormous imperial dome.
Something historic was about to happen.
Or, as Trumpius Caesar preferred to describe it:
"Perhaps the greatest proclamation ever proclaimed. Everyone agrees. Even people who don't agree."
Thunderous applause erupted.
Some senators applauded because they supported the Emperor.
Others applauded because everyone else was already standing.
And several Imperial interns simply assumed applause was mandatory whenever Trumpius adjusted his golden cape.
The Rise of the HON Scrolls
For months, the Empire had been haunted by the legendary HON Scrolls of Endless Compliance.
These enormous bureaucratic manuscripts, crafted by the mysterious priests of the Temple of Atmospherius Purificatus, demanded new emissions controls, endless monitoring devices, impossible testing requirements, and enough documentation to keep an entire legion of scribes employed until the next millennium.
According to the Palace, many of the required technologies existed only inside engineering dreams and government presentations featuring inspirational stock photography.
Some factories would need billions of denarii in upgrades.
Others might shut down entirely.
A few would first need to invent the very equipment they were legally required to install.
The Emperor frowned.
"This," he declared, "is not winning."
Mercatorius Chemicus Sounds the Alarm
Into the throne room stepped Mercatorius Chemicus Maximus, Supreme Keeper of the Imperial Chemical Guild.
"Great Caesar," he announced dramatically, "our factories create the lifeblood of the Empire."
He pointed toward an enormous map.
"Our chemicals build semiconductors."
"They sterilize hospitals."
"They power advanced manufacturing."
"They strengthen agriculture."
"They protect our glorious Imperial Legions."
"They even make many of the miracle materials hiding inside everyone's favorite electronics."
The Emperor nodded solemnly.
"No chemicals..."
"...no greatness."
The Senate immediately wrote that down.
The Bureaucratius Legion Attacks
Suddenly the doors burst open.
The feared Legio Bureaucratius Regulatius marched into the chamber.
Their armor was constructed entirely from recycled policy binders.
Their shields were laminated compliance manuals.
Their weapons consisted of environmental impact reports tied together with red tape.
Their commander proudly carried Form 87-B, Request for Preliminary Authorization to Submit Form 87-C.
The Emperor examined the approaching army.
"Magnificent paperwork," he admitted.
"Beautiful paperwork."
"Maybe the best paperwork ever created."
"But paperwork doesn't manufacture chemicals."
Several senior bureaucrats fainted directly onto their filing cabinets.
A Royal Decree of Common Sense
With a single dramatic flourish, Trumpius Caesar signed the Imperial Proclamation.
The announcement echoed across the Empire.
Chemical facilities listed within the sacred Imperial Annex would receive two additional years before complying with the most burdensome portions of the HON Scrolls.
Until then, existing standards would remain in effect.
The Palace described the move as a victory for American manufacturing.
Industrial leaders celebrated.
Investment planners smiled.
Factory managers finally remembered what uninterrupted sleep felt like.
Only the Bureaucratius Legion looked disappointed.
Several had already purchased commemorative compliance clipboards.
National Security Begins in the Laboratory
Trumpius Caesar reminded the Empire that chemistry was far more than smokestacks and laboratory coats.
Without domestic chemical production:
Semiconductor production slows.
Medical sterilization weakens.
Defense manufacturing suffers.
Critical infrastructure becomes vulnerable.
Foreign empires gain leverage.
According to the Emperor, relying on overseas suppliers for strategic chemicals was about as wise as asking Baronius Tarifficus to negotiate lower tariffs by complimenting everyone first.
The Senate unanimously agreed that this was probably not an excellent military strategy.
Thomasius Declares Another Historic Triumph
Finally, Imperial Herald Thomasius Federkalligraphus, Master of Magnificent Announcements, approached the royal podium.
He unfurled a scroll so enormous that three assistants were needed simply to keep it from rolling down the palace stairs.
"Hear ye!" he proclaimed.
"Never before has an Emperor extended exactly two years with such mathematical perfection!"
"Never before has paperwork been defeated with such elegance!"
"Never before have chemical alchemists looked this relieved while accountants simultaneously applauded!"
The crowd erupted.
Chemical guilds toasted the proclamation.
Manufacturers restarted investment plans.
Military quartermasters quietly appreciated uninterrupted supply chains.
Even Wall Streetium Maximus seemed pleased.
Meanwhile, somewhere deep inside the Ministry of Regulations...
...a lonely bureaucrat had already begun writing HON Scroll II: The Bureaucratius Returns.
Because in the Empire of Trumpius Caesar, victories may be glorious...
...but paperwork is eternal.
