The Minotaur's Memoirs

PRIVATE COPY OF THE MINAS ARCHIVES. FOR THE EYES OF THE MINOTAUR'S DESCENDANTS ONLY.

 24/11/1939

It is done. Come January 4th, I will be Eklektós of the Cretan Republic. 

The road to get here wasn't an easy one. I suppose I did not have to compromise as much as others around the world have, but I still had plenty of late nights planning strategy, convincing the hard-headed, and amassing the small victories needed to bring the party under control. 

But despite the fireworks and the guns going off in celebration, I am not with my wife and son, but sitting at an office, waiting for the third report of the evening, even as my heart hammers in my chest. 

The British sent their congratulations second. The French third, and the Americans fourth. 

The Germans were first.

My father always said there's a test for everyone. It's not ever the same, and its stakes can be different, but a test there will always be. It's one that questions a person's character, and their strength. A final count, I guess, of the stock one is made of. 

When I first decided to run, I thought the election would be mine. It is no easy thing, to lead two million people. Even less so when they are so paranoid, bringing guns to bear against the shadows themselves for fear they will attack first. It'd be a test enough to get on the streets and convince the people that it is me who they should put their hopes on, and who will lead them to further abundance. Yes, I did believe being elected would be my test. 

Now that the corpses of three Empires begin to pile, and each one reminds me of the benefits of further cooperation, and of how our position near the Suez makes us an invaluable ally, I can only hope it was. 

09/04/1941

Goddamn fucking Germans. Mussolini was one thing, the superstitious fuck. The Greeks could have held him, even if they were not backed by the Brits and half-bankrolled by us. How the rest of the Balkans rolled over to him, I'll never understand.

But Germany is another matter entirely. They rolled the French easily enough, and Britain alone cannot hold them. Already are the reports coming in of their tanks breaking through the lines, and of their planes wreaking havoc. 

I have called a meeting with the General Staff. I refused their request to call up the conscripts last month, just as a measure of security, but that'll show a lieutenant to doubt a General.

An army of 30,000 and a navy of half that is not enough to stop them if they are set in their course, but it may at least show them that we don't plan to just roll over.

And besides, the British are no fools. We have more frigates here in the Mediterranean than they do. I have thrown out some feelers now, and they will aid us if it comes to it, I hope. 

But it will not, surely. I have a plan already. The Day of the Sun is next month. It's normally a civil affair, a delegation makes its way from Congress, to the Monarchs' Palace, and then to the Tomb's outsides. Civilians join as the delegation marches, and they leave flowers, or any other sort of offerings. It's meant only for the people. 

Not this year. The army will march alongside the people as well, and the Navy will send them off from Congress with a cannonade. If it all goes well, then everyone that's watching will get the message. 

21/05/1941

I have been awake for 43 hours. 

And I cannot think of anything I want less than a bed. 

The Germans attacked. So much for the parade, they would not have it. The Day of the Sun was ruined, the first time since the nation's founding that Chandax has had to fight. 

Oh, but fight it does. We kept Congress under our control, and the Navy has repulsed the Kriegsmarine thrice now from attempting to do a landing. The Luftwaffe tried to bomb us out, but the Air Force has chased them out, even if not forever. The weather is helping as well, or so the staff tells me. It has been raining non-stop since they began to land, and that has kept the number of paratroopers lower than it could be.

This does not mean we are in the clear. They have claimed a portion of the city now, and even from my position I can hear the gunfire going down, the same savagery they visited everywhere else being brought to bear in our homes. The Italians may have refused to join, but the Germans have a bigger navy than us, even if split. It's going to be a chancy damn thing to keep them from bringing all their guns to bear. 

And worst of it all are the Brits. God damn the whole island to the deepest pit of hell. They have refused. They call it "deliberation", but I am no fucking fool. They aren't coming, even after all the promises they fucking would. All they are doing now is considering how to word their hypocrisy, even as my people die.

But I don't need them. Every reservist will be called up, and the Guard will be given to the Army as well. That's 60,000. I've called down a representative of the fucking Guardians, and I'll give them the whole mountain if I must. The navy will keep the cities safe until everyone evacuates, and I have rifles enough for anyone that wants to join the fight. 

Nine hundred and eighty years Crete has been free. I will not be the man to keep us from reaching a thousand, even if I must see half the country armed for it.

Germany will see all of Crete's sons have the King's blood.

14/06/1941

Monstrous. 

I had heard the stories, everyone has, but that does not compare. The people back then had worse guns, or were caught off guard, or were just not made of the right stuff. There was an explanation for it. 

There is no explanation for this. There is no explanation for why I just saw half a battalion lose its legs, or an explanation for how the man has sent back every single bullet fired at him. There is no explanation for why he is fighting for me, and still I feel as if the killing intent will swallow this island whole. 

And there is no explanation for why someone so strong has yet to kill them all. He is perfectly capable of it, I know it in my bones. If he did not want a single German alive on the country, there would not be one. 

But he... but he is taking his time. He is faster than a bullet, and yet he stops after every kill long enough for the enemy to notice it. He does not kill them cleanly, like I know he can. There are men trying to keep their guts inside, trying desperately to keep the stumps of their arms from bleeding out, crying tears of blood as they realize he has made them unable to see.

Christ in Heaven, he is not killing Hitler's army, he is shattering it. Already, they are coming in droves to surrender, begging desperately to keep him away. More than one have thrown their jackets into a fire and asked for one of ours, if we promise to not let them die. I hear even a ship has mutinied, its men refusing to land and be slaughtered by the great beast which has decreed that he will see Germany brought to ruin.

The same great beast that has demanded to meet with me. 

30/06/1941

In the future, this may be seen as obvious. Germany has attacked us, and we have repulsed them. For the deaths inflicted, we have declared war. It is obvious that we would. This is no surprise. 

And they will be so wrong, for this means so much more.

For the first time in its history, Crete has met with the world. We have joined into a conflict, even if only after half the world did so first. For the first time in its history, Crete does not decry an alliance with the outside world, but instead cheers it on. Representatives from Free France, from Britain, even one from the fucking Americans on the other side of the ocean are coming in, and they are all doing it so we can work together. 

And we have done it on our terms. Germany tried to force us, and they have been given a bloody nose for it. Their foolishness has awoken a legend. Instead of bending to their will, we stood tall, and joined who we joined out of our own accord.

This will be a lesson remembered, both by Crete and the world. Crete will bow to no invader. Who it deals with, and it will deal now, I am sure, will be only those who prove that they want friendship, even if it took the scum-fucking Brits a month to gather up the balls for it.

04/01/1943

I know the truth now. 

I am not sure I want to. 

There was too much piling on for me to discredit it all. The reports of his appearance, the way he wields the weapon, the way he speaks of the oath, the appearances all around the world, without rhyme, without reason. 

I know it now, I know what has been going on for God knows how long.

And he knows I know. 

06/01/1943

Lord have mercy on Germany. Lord have mercy on Britain, on Japan, on every country in this Earth that thinks itself master of the world.

Because what I have been told assures me none of them are. 

Not if that is what happened. 

Not if that is still lurks beyond.

Not if this is what holds it back.

And not if the beast awakens before its tamer does.