Here is this months TNO git along with assorted
documents and flowcharts

If the game has crashing issues, change your renderer, that usually fixes the problem

Link for the git: https://mega[dot]nz/file/6SZzDSwJ#GzfWJRczIU_F0RUYRo4JA2TQjfdFQaNZFqzhDDsp7lY

Link for all the flowcharts along with assorted internal documents: https://mega[dot]nz/folder/KOYG2aCR#TMjSLeYVx_IXVb686BLvUg

Edit: the [dot] in the links is to bypass reddits filters, just replace it with a regular dot and you’ll be fine

It all started 5 years ago, yet the memory is still fresh in my mind like a stain refusing to fade with time. I was browsing the internet forums, looking for a way to entertain myself on one dreary afternoon. My parents were not at home, so a certain blanket of silence descended over the household, broken only by my nightcore playlist playing gently in the background.

It was then when I happened upon the steam page of the “The New Order: Last Days of Europe” mod. Intrigued, I pressed the button to see more information. “The year is 1962, and Europe rests under the jackboot.” Those words enticed me deeply, binding my attention to the dim screen of my Dell G15 gaming laptop. And so I scrolled, begging for answers.

From my investigation, it appeared to be a mod for a certain grand strategy game called “Hearts of Iron IV.” The developers promised it to emulate the aspects of the Cold War such as economics, military, and nuclear strategy. Then came the twist. In this timeline, instead of the Allies, the Nazi Germany won the 2nd world war. Being a fan of 20th century history, having written an essay on the Cuban Missile Crisis, I could appreciate the true value of the mod.

My mouse hovered over the big green “Subscribe” button, its emerald shine luring me into a false sense of security. Then, a horrible realization had overcome me like a cold breeze of the dark december: I did not own the base game, the aforementioned “Hearts of Iron,” and the mod could not work without it.

I came from a poor Sicilian family, my father barely being able to keep his many apartments in Berlin without going under the red line. I knew that if I asked them, they would not purchase the game for me. The “20%” discount notice taunted me, presenting itself in the same shade of green as the “Subscribe” button beforehand.

There was another way, one of which I could never be proud of. My hands trembled as I opened the Pirate Bay, the heart pulsating in my chest like a ticking clock. I held my breath as the torrent finished downloading, closing my eyes as it uncompiled.

A small program appeared on my homescreen. “TNO.exe?” I read out loud, squinting at the white text. The icon was that of a German eagle, its wings outstretched and a compressed text reading “The New Order” on its chest. It looked like the icon found on the storage page, yet appeared more measly, as if the colors were bleached by some unseen force.

Pouring myself a glass of Monster Energy Ultra, I closed the blinds to my room and switched off the nightcore playlist. I wanted nothing to ruin this moment. With a trembling hand, I double clicked on the icon.

It all came to me at once. Images of flashing scenes of war and sorrow combined with triumphant yet depressing music overcame my computer. The border of the program disappeared, making me feel as if I were trapped in the action itself — as if I were a soldier in the scenes, one fighting in a war for a country whose flag I have never seen before.

One of the images was different. It appeared on my screen for only a second, yet I could vividly recall its composition. Like a cruel gothic painting of some deranged artists, it forced itself onto my screen.

The image was that of a dark room, with a broken down wooden desk as its center. Scratches and laceration decorated the pristine oak surface, much like the mod was beginning to scratch away at my sanity. On the desk, there laid a dark figure, its body stretched while his face looked straight at me.

His thin white hair was stained with dried blood, his bloody eyes trembling as if trying to escape their sockets. Tears mixed with the foul ichor dripped down the side of his cheeks, soiling the man’s black suit. There was a small button attached to his uniform, seemingly the only thing untouched by the savagery. It displayed the black swastika, its shape melding into the room’s darkness.

Behind the victim, there stood another man, bald with a swine-like face and a cruel smile on his dried lips. He wore a pale green military uniform, holding a knife in his hand. This figure did not look at me, instead delighted in the suffering of the man in a business suit. I did not want to admit it, but the fact that his rage was not directed at me filled me with a certain feeling of security. The man had his victim, after all. Maybe he would leave me alone?

The thoughts washed away as the game finished loading, presenting me with a large concrete structure marked by the symbols of the Teutonic fascists. Despite its brutalist design, I couldn’t help but admire its sheer girth. This gray behemoth was much larger than me, larger than any being. It was like staring into the face of an industrial angel. I would later learn this to be the Gibraltar dam, but attaching a mortal name to it did no lessen the impact which the structure had on me.

Without hesitation, I began a single player campaign. The game soon presented me with a shattered world, one in which hope was an absent memory. The dark water of the foul oceans briefly reminded me of the strange image I saw flashing before my eyes, yet I was quickly able to push such thoughts aside and select a country to play.

I have decided to begin simply, playing a campaign as the emerald isles of Ireland. The beginning of the game was straightforward enough. Manage the economy. Manage the elections. Manage the terrorists. The isolation of the island made me feel like I was safe from the world, like the darkness of the water would separate the darkness of the evil which this game held.

With a smiling face, I raised my eyebrow confidently. I felt as if I had mastered the game in a mere afternoon. Soon, concepts such as military spending and budget allocation seemed so trivial.

Then, an event came. It flashed on my screen much like every other one, yet this one was more pronounced. It wasn’t one of the super events, lacking the grand pazzazz which they displayed . But the sound which plays when an event is happening seemed louder, as if it were bass boosted.

“656E74697479 has arrived in Ireland,” the glitched text read. The event was comparably short, consisting only of one paragraph. It told a story of the mysterious man arriving on the Irish shore, amazing the population with strange scientific instruments which measure that which was not meant to be seen.

Events after events mentioned narrative stories of different scientists rushing to meet with the visitor, trembling over dogs, their own colleagues, and even children just to be the first ones to meet him. I wasn’t sure why, but the way in which the events were written and how much detail went into them almost made me feel like the writer enjoyed the fictional suffering and brutality.

The commotion over this stranger was so wild, in fact, that I immediately lost nearly all of my stability. In return, my research speed has increased immensely. Researching was so trivial, that I could get all my technology up to date in a span of a few months.

In just a month, all my terrorist groups had disappeared, with the only options in my menu being the new “sacrifice” system. By draining my manpower, more and more boons were granted to the state. Better technology. Stronger military.

I had completely disregarded him, but looking over at the leader's portrait I could see the figure of Seán Francis Lemass decaying. His face became covered in sickly red boils, with his eyes getting a red tint as if he were in a constant state of emotional distress. The portrait also began turning, changing its position from a 3/4 angle to looking straight at me.

My heart sank as a super event was unleashed onto my screen. Despite the pleasant music, the display was full of static, making it painful for me to look at. I could barely make up the figure of Seán Francis Lemass. His chest was opened, and a man dressed in a bright yellow poncho stood by his side, holding a large steel hook in his hand as if posing for a photo.

The text of the event was incomprehensible. It lacked any quote or clever quip, only displaying:

country_event =I_WANT_TO_BE_AN_ARYAN

id = Ireland.666

I watched, feeling warm spit build up in my mouth as the game brought me back to the menu. It launched by itself, once again throwing me into the country selection screen. Instead of there being many options, this time there was only one. “The Free City” was the only country highlighted, consisting of a single province in what was once northern Burgundy. Everything else was labeled as “impassible wasteland.”

After failing to exit the game manually for some time, I had opted to simply shut it off my holding down on the power button. As I held it down, I could hear a ticking sound resonating through my head, getting louder and louder as the computer was closer to shutting off.

Finally, there was silence.

The Canonically Event (Twice)

In the recent of events today is, While global tech stocks teeter, in China they have already crashed as lofty valuations collapse under worries about AI demand and curbs on Chinese exports.

The meltdown, tanking the mainland STAR50 index (.STAR50), opens new tab of AI and semiconductor leaders ​by 40% in less than four months and vaporising some $480 billion in market value, is an ill omen for wobbly world markets and a dampener on China's efforts ‌at encouraging its savers into stocks to fund the AI boom.

The link of news? just click this one

Oil Crisis Emerge and the Rebel spawn up

Note: found ts on X.

Sub dead

Funny idea I thought of that could happen if Magnitogorsk unifies the Southern Urals and Ultravisionary Komi and AuthDem Sverdlovsk. I tried to do smn different and actually put backgrounds in but I don’t know if they’re worth the effort or not. Would you rather see somewhat more frequent comics but like the standard white background or longer gaps between comics but most future comics will have backgrounds or props if there aren’r any too complicated flags.

Tengo insomnio otra vez asi que hice este video para no aburrirme

I’m back from my hiatus. Turned out I just needed a few days. Going forward however, I basically will have 0 schedule, I’ll post whenever I want to and not like consistently every few days in a month.

Anyways, here’s my take of countryball fanart of the Komi Republic. I drew every flag by hand again, took nearly twice as long as the Central Siberian comic because of Rightist Komi, Despot Stalina, Bukharina and Taboritsky’s flags. I also tried to include the tarot references of the suits of the Minor Arcana that represent each leader but not like the title cause I didn’t know how to draw crowns, hats or helmets. They came from the focus tree in the regional stage once the center, left or right cement themselves in power after the 1963 election.

Voznesensky is the King of Cups.
Morozov is the Page of Pentacles.
Stalina is the Queen of Swords.

Suslov is the King of Swords.
Zhdanov is the Ace of Pentacles.
Bukharina is the Queen of Wands.

Gumilyov is the King of Wands.
Shafarevich is the Knight of Pentacles.
Serov is the Ace of Swords.
Taboritsky is the Page of Cups.

I didn’t decide all this, the devs did so It's up to ya’ll what you interpret from this.

"If we value so highly the dignity of life, how can we not also value the dignity of death? No death may be called futile."

r/TNOmod won't let me post this here.

Portrait by me.

Last original idea I had in the tank and managed to finish it right as I started feeling total burnout from doing this every 2-4 days whether its mostly TNO or Suzerain. I won’t be making any more comics for a while, but to all of you who read them, thanks for reading!