The Destruction of Tokyo, Part 3

Emperor Taisho had already suffered more than enough at the hands of the rebels. He was an emperor who had been utterly ignored by the political establishment. Imprisoned in what was little better than a beggar's den, he had watched the Imperial Way Faction mouth empty platitudes of "His Imperial Majesty" while treating him like a puppet, no different from the shoguns of old. Nursing a deep resentment against them, the Emperor, despite his failing health, actively cooperated with the anti-Imperial Way Faction forces.

No matter how much of a figurehead the Emperor was, the Austrian minister—representing an empire that still held its own imperial family in high regard—had no choice but to treat him with the utmost respect.

"Is there... anything I can do to help?"

"No, Your Majesty. We are deeply concerned for your health, so we will do our ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠absolute best to ensure you travel in the greatest possible comfort."

"Are you not a guest in our country? When a guest treats the host's troubles as his own, how can the master of the house sit idly by?"

"If that is Your Majesty's wish..."

The Austrian legation quickly dispatched men to scour the half-ruined imperial palace. From somewhere, they managed to retrieve a glittering, golden carriage.

"Your Majesty, we will apply basic bulletproofing to it. Please, travel with us at least until the situation settles."

"It matters not. My health has already deteriorated to the point where it would not surprise me to die at any moment. Exerting myself a little for my country is of no consequence."

Most of Japan's ruling class, including the Imperial Way Faction who claimed to have risen up for his sake, absolutely detested the Emperor actually doing anything. To them, an active monarch was an unbearable nuisance. But these were extraordinary times, were they not? Ever since the Austro-Hungarian Empire had miraculously resurrected itself from the brink of collapse, monarchs across the globe had managed to survive just as they were about to be swept away as relics of a bygone era.

I... do not know. Frankly, I have no interest in politics. And even if I did, my physical condition certainly wouldn't allow it.

But Crown Prince Hirohito, who would soon succeed him, was different. Though he lacked charisma even more than his father, he possessed the clear traits of a cunning, slippery politician—much like Tokugawa Ieyasu, the great unifier. In a future where the political landscape was bound to be extremely fractured, it was obvious that only the Emperor would hold the power to mediate disputes and make final decisions. Whether Hirohito wanted it or not, the future of Japan rested in his hands.

I must do something now, while I still can, so that Hirohito can rule effectively as Emperor in the days to come.

With that resolution, the Emperor began his grand tour of the coastal batteries lining the shores of Tokyo.

The news that the Imperial Way Faction had launched a coup had already spread across Japan. However, that did not mean the information had reached the frontline soldiers stationed within the Kanto region.

"What on earth happened to the country for the alert level to be raised this high?"

"Who knows... We just do what we're told. That's a soldier's life, isn't it?"

"True. Who cares? I wonder what's for dinner today."

Not long ago, the Emperor had issued a decree: "As there are forces attempting to sow national discord under the cover of the earthquake, all soldiers must defend their designated strongholds with ironclad vigilance." That order was still in effect. What did it matter to the common soldiers what happened in Kanto? That was the officers' business. They only needed to keep their eyes glued to the sea, following the orders of their direct commanders.

"Oh, right. Another order came down from that major."

"Hmm?"

"He said if any battleship is spotted near our coastline, we're to fire on it without hesitation."

"Even if it's our own navy?"

"Yeah."

"Is that really okay?"

"Who knows... Didn't they say some insurgent group or whatever is running rampant? Must be because of that."

And so, the soldiers spent another peaceful day peering through their binoculars at the horizon. Focused entirely on the sea, they had no idea what was unfolding behind them.

"Hey, what's that behind us?"

"...Huh. Something's glittering. The country's in ruins, so where on earth did they dig up a palanquin like that?"

"They said if anyone approaches, friend or foe, we should shoot without hesitation. Shouldn't we just fire?"

In the distance, about a dozen heavily armed men in friendly uniforms were marching toward them. These unidentified soldiers marched slowly, forming a tight perimeter around a single palanquin. As the sentry squinted to get a better look at the mysterious carriage, one of the soldiers—who had actually managed to graduate from high school—gasped in pure terror.

"Hey! Lower your guns, you absolute morons!"

He smacked them on the back of their heads, panicking wildly. The other soldiers stared at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

"Why? What's wrong with you all of a sudden?"

"Lower your guns, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you stupid bastards!"

"What is it?!"

"That... That's His Majesty's imperial carriage!"

"W-What...? Why would he be here?"

The magnificent imperial carriage of the Emperor, appearing right in the middle of a wasteland. It felt like a theater of the absurd. Why on earth would the Emperor show up here in such a dangerous situation?

"It's obviously a fake."

"Y-You think so?"

"You idiot, why would His Imperial Majesty come all the way out here?"

"T-Then, should we shoot?"

"..."

"Let's shoot!"

"Are you insane?! Hold your fire for a second!"

What if, by some miracle, the real Emperor was inside? No matter how much Japan claimed to have modernized, abolishing guilt by association and execution by slow slicing, some things remained sacred. If they opened fire and the Emperor truly was inside... not only the soldier who pulled the trigger, but his entire unit and their families would never be able to live in Japan again. To make matters worse, the officer who was supposed to be stationed at the battery was nowhere to be found. Ultimately, they lowered the rifles they had aimed at the carriage. Thus, without a single shot fired, one coastal battery was completely neutralized.

Of course, not every coastal battery was neutralized so peacefully.

"What 'Emperor' in times like these! Didn't you hear the orders from headquarters?"

"Just shoot! Shoot! Load the machine gun!"

There were indeed fanatics who opened fire on the imperial carriage from a distance. But the way to handle such situations was simple.

"Y-Your Majesty! We will handle this! We must move your carriage immediately—!"

"There is no need."

"Sire?!"

"I shall bear all responsibility. Do I not have my eldest son, Hirohito? If those fools shoot and kill me, the Imperial Way Faction will be finished that very day. It is fine."

In any nation, those born into royalty are raised in such privilege that they carry a natural aura. Whether they are the greatest villains or wise philosophers, they possess an air of distinction. Though Emperor Taisho was a frail, sickly man who lacked any conventional charisma, he was no exception. Walking was impossible for him, and he was frequently plagued by seizures. His health had deteriorated to the point where he had already handed over official duties to his eldest son, Hirohito. On top of that, the Great Kanto Earthquake had struck, and during his brief captivity, he had received no proper medical care while being forced to serve as the figurehead for the rebels. It would not have been surprising if Emperor Taisho had drawn his last breath the very next day; indeed, it was a miracle he was still alive.

It was a final rally of life—the burst of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clarity before death. Facing his end, he cast aside his frail, mentally unstable self and acted with immense courage. Supported by his guards, the Emperor dragged his failing body out of the carriage. Then, he roared with a voice that pierced through the sound of gunfire.

"Insolent fools! In whose presence do you dare fire your weapons?! Cease fire this instant!"

"He's an impostor! Aim only for him!"

"How dare you... The one who gave that order will not escape the firing squad! If you do not wish to be dragged away on charges of treason, lower your weapons immediately!"

There are certain people who exude an undeniable presence that warns others: If you touch this person, you will pay dearly. When confronted by such individuals, humans instinctively hesitate. Perhaps it was the sheer authority woven into his voice. Hearing that extraordinary tone, the soldiers faltered in confusion, some aiming their rifles into the sky, others stopping their fire altogether.

"W-Wait a minute... Isn't that the real Emperor?"

"Have you fools not read the newspapers? Did you not hear that His Majesty's health has deteriorated so much that he cannot even move properly?"

"B-But..."

If that was not a living god, then what was? Ignoring the screams of their low-ranking officer commanding them to shoot straight, the soldiers stared intently at the figure radiating an extraordinary majesty from the carriage.

"The face... The face I saw in the newspapers..."

"Just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shoot!"

Suddenly, the soldiers' eyes went wide. They began to tremble in sheer panic.

"I-It's the real Emperor!"

"Stop! The moment you shoot, you are a traitor who has betrayed heaven itself!"

The Japanese military maintained discipline through unimaginable, brutal hazing. They beat their men so severely that mutiny was unthinkable. Yet, in the presence of the ultimate commander-in-chief standing right before their eyes, they had no choice but to lower their weapons.

"T-This is mutiny!"

"B-But..."

"Shoot!"

"We cannot do that!"

The soldiers began exchanging glances. That is clearly the Emperor. Why is our officer repeatedly telling us to shoot him? Could it be...?

At that moment, the Emperor's voice drove a wedge into their hesitation, sealing their resolve.

"I shall tell you the truth! I was imprisoned because of a rebellion instigated by the very faction your commanders belong to! Do you understand?! Without your knowledge, you have been made complicit in treason!"

"...!"

"You must undo this mistake while you still can! Surrender immediately and flee Tokyo!"

As one draws closer to death, they drift further from the human realm and closer to the divine. In Catholicism, what is the most essential requirement to become a saint? To believe in Jesus? No. To become holy, one must first die.

Moved by the words of an Emperor who had drawn close to godhood, yet another coastal battery was neutralized. Aside from a few minor skirmishes, the coastal batteries tightly ringed around Tokyo surrendered one by one without shedding a single drop of blood.

But this triumph did not come without a price.

"Y-Your Majesty! Are you alright?!"

"I-I am fine. Quick, to the next bat... *cough*... *gasp*!"

The price was the Emperor's very life. In the end, Emperor Taisho began to bleed profusely from his nose, lost the ability to speak clearly, and fell into violent seizures.

"The time has come. Everyone, evacuate Tokyo!"

September 16, 1923. It had been a mere fifteen days since the Great Kanto Earthquake struck and the coup was launched. Battleships completely surrounded the waters off Tokyo. The anti-coup forces residing in Tokyo scattered countless flyers across the city.

Rumors that the Emperor had escaped, that traitors had seized power, and that Tokyo would soon be turned into a sea of fire spread like wildfire. The Gendarmerie Commander could no longer maintain control over Tokyo. The news of what had transpired at the coastal batteries had also leaked, rendering the soldiers completely unmanageable.

"Commander Araki Sadao. A document has arrived from outside."

"...I don't even need to look to know what it says. A demand for our surrender?"

"Indeed. What shall we do?"

"Lord Kita Ikki. What would you do in my position?"

"Tell them to go to hell. I shall choose honorable death—gyokusai—along with the rest of Tokyo."

"...My thoughts exactly."

Their strategy of holding Tokyo hostage to negotiate had utterly failed. Now, only two choices remained for Araki Sadao: surrender or a fight to the death. When a robber holds a hostage, but the police shoot anyway, the robber has only one option left—to drag the hostage down to hell with him.

"Commander, to what extent can you still control the troops?"

"...Keeping them in their current positions is the absolute limit."

"That is enough. Let us meet our end together."

The leadership of the Imperial Way Faction issued orders claiming that the threat of a naval bombardment on Tokyo was a complete bluff. Their logic was that no nation's military would ever use its own battleships to obliterate its own capital. It was a highly reasonable argument, and the soldiers, reassured, prepared to lay down their arms and surrender.

But what awaited those soldiers was a merciless, unrelenting barrage of naval gunfire.

"...They still won't crawl out?"

"It seems they intend to commit suicide along with Tokyo."

"Then let them. Load the main batteries! We shall purge every last traitor in Tokyo!"

The Japanese fleet unleashed a merciless bombardment upon Tokyo. Tokyo, which had reigned supreme as Japan's greatest metropolis for nearly three hundred years, was utterly reduced to rubble in less than half a day. Never again would the character for capital, kyo, be attached to this land. Watching Tokyo crumble, Emperor Taisho suffered a fatal heart attack and closed his eyes forever.

With the collapse of Tokyo, a new era was about to begin.