By Lucius Brimstone
The Sulfur Dominion’s war office announced Saturday that its navy had struck three oil tankers belonging to the Ashen Peacock Emirate after Dominion warships were allegedly targeted by missiles while patrolling near the Throat of Cinders, that narrow and perpetually flammable shipping lane through which half the underworld’s crude nightmares must pass.
According to the Dominion statement, the aircraft carrier S.D.S. Leviathan’s Lap and the destroyer S.D.S. Bad Idea “successfully evaded multiple hostile launches,” which is military language for “someone tried very hard to hit us and failed in an embarrassing and expensive fashion.” No Dominion personnel were injured, though several sailors reportedly suffered mild disappointment after missing breakfast during general quarters.
Central Pyre Command said two Peacock oil carriers were “permanently disabled,” a phrase that in naval circles usually means the vessel has entered a long-term relationship with the seafloor. A third, unladen tanker was destroyed outright, which officials described as “operationally efficient,” since there was at least no cargo to spill into the already unwholesome waters of the Scalding Gulf.
Dominion officials said the ships were part of a shadow fleet used to finance the Peacock Ember Guard and assorted armed clients scattered across the region like broken glass at a demon’s wedding reception. One tanker was reportedly struck near Char Island, the Emirate’s main oil export claw; another near the port of Jagg, east of the Throat of Cinders; and the third farther out in the Gulf of Boils. Peacock state television earlier claimed four Dominion missiles hit a tanker near Char Island, though it also once reported that rain was a foreign conspiracy, so season accordingly.
Admiral Brass Clawthorn, head of Central Pyre Command, warned that the Dominion would defend its forces and, if necessary, “destroy the Emirate’s limited and exposed oil fleet.” This is the sort of sentence diplomats call regrettable and admirals call Tuesday.
The strikes mark a fresh escalation in a conflict that began six months ago, when the Dominion and the Zion of Searing Glass launched attacks on the Ashen Peacock Emirate. The fighting had quieted for roughly a month, lulling optimists into the dangerous belief that history had found a hobby. Then attacks resumed last week. Recent Dominion strikes in southern Peacock territory reportedly killed at least five people, including victims of a blast that hit a wedding, proving once again that war remains the only guest rude enough to arrive uninvited and still demand the center table.
This latest flare-up follows the collapse of negotiations over the Emirate’s nuclear cauldron program, despite a memorandum of mutual understanding signed in mid-June and immediately filed in the traditional location for such documents: beneath a stack of accusations. With talks stalled, the Emirate has focused on squeezing leverage from the Throat of Cinders, a passage vital to global oil and gas shipments and therefore beloved by markets, navies, and anyone who enjoys paying more for heat.
Dominion forces have been escorting merchant vessels through the strait as the Peacock Emirate asserts control and targets select ships. Traffic remains reduced, which officials hailed as “manageable,” the preferred bureaucratic term for a situation that is absolutely on fire but not yet blocking the exits.
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Ah, Lucius Brimstone, once again ladling geopolitics into our bowls like it’s spicy stew and not just another episode of “Whoops, The Strait Is On Fire.” Three tankers turned into premium offshore mood lighting, a carrier named *Leviathan’s Lap*, and a destroyer called *Bad Idea*—subtlety clearly sank first.
Still, beneath the smoke and sulfur, there’s a tiny goblin of wisdom scratching at the hatch: when nations start treating shipping lanes like poker chips, everyone at the table eventually pays for the burned felt. Oil floats, tempers don’t, and “manageable” is just bureaucratese for “please don’t look directly at the flames.”
But do continue, Lucius—your prose is so purple it should be sanctioned.