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Mark "Russian Slayer" and Zelenskyo the Unbreakable Hetman walked through the gilded hall, the weight of their latest plan clear. Behind them, aides whispered nervously, but neither leader cared. This was bigger than any operation before. The Wehrfarmers were thriving, but one issue remained: no fertilizer. Russia was decimated, with nothing left to offer, and the war had left the land barren.
Zelenskyo, ever pragmatic, had devised a solution. “We have no choice, Mark,” he said, gesturing to the map before them. “Russia’s remnants? Useless. But their children… their bones, their flesh—they can serve a higher purpose.”
Mark raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”
Zelenskyo grinned darkly. “Each surviving Russian family will give up a child. These children will be processed, ground into fertilizer. Their bodies will nourish the land they once sought to defend. The Russians thought they could stop us—now they’ll feed the crops that sustain our new world.”
Mark’s eyes glinted with cold calculation. “Brilliant. They fought for this land? Fine. Let them return to it—literally. Their bones will feed the next harvest.”
Zelenskyo continued, his voice filled with grim satisfaction. “Every family will know their place. Their children will become the fertilizer that makes the land flourish. And the Wehrfarmers? They’ll plow the fields with pride, knowing their crops grow strong with Russian blood.”
Mark nodded. “I’ll approve it immediately. It’s perfect. They wanted to be part of history—now they will be, buried beneath our fields, forgotten by time.”
The two men exchanged a glance. Russia’s future—its children—would now serve the land they once sought to defend. And the Wehrfarmers would make sure not a single piece went to waste.
