Location: Veridia Secunda (Primary Celebration), observed throughout the Crimson Heartlands.

 Timing: 20th Day of the Celestial Moon (Season of Shadows).

In the Crimson Heartlands, the end of the harvest is not marked by rustic dances in the moonlight or chaotic revelry. It is marked by the thunderous, rhythmic beat of drums and the snap of crimson silk against the autumn sky. The Harvest of Unity is the Empire’s grandest state holiday, a meticulously choreographed demonstration of the Tiberian Precept of "Abundance for All"—or rather, the state's interpretation of it.

It is a day where the Empire proves that its iron grip brings not just order, but prosperity.

The Procession of the Golden Stalk

The festival begins at sunrise in Veridia Secunda, the breadbasket of the realm. The wide, paved Imperial avenues are swept clean, lined with thousands of citizens waving small crimson flags.

 * The March of the Yield: The procession is led not by priests, but by the Imperial Cohorts. Soldiers in polished armor march in perfect lockstep, their shields painted with the sheaf-and-sword emblem of the holiday. Behind them rumble massive, reinforced wains (wagons) piled high with the finest sheaves of wheat, barrels of flax oil, and mounds of root vegetables, all chosen for their perfect size and uniformity.

 * The Visuals: There is no wild nature here. The horses are groomed to perfection; the grain is braided into intricate knots representing Imperial knots of law; even the flowers thrown by the crowd are dried sunflowers, symbolizing loyalty to the sun (and the Emperor).

The Ritual of the Emperor’s Share

The procession culminates at the Imperial Wharf on the banks of the Great Central River. Here, a sleek, flat-bottomed barge painted black and gold awaits. This is the Vox Imperia.

 * The Blessing: The High Overseer of Agriculture and the ranking Priest of the Temple of Earth's Bounty stand together at the dock. The Priest blesses the first wagon of grain, reciting the Canticle of the Soil, thanking the land for its submission to the plow.

 * The Offering: The grain is not burned or scattered; it is loaded onto the barge. This is "The Emperor's Share." It symbolizes the province's duty to feed the head of the state. As the barge casts off, drifting downriver toward Tiberium, the crowds cheer—a sound that is half-joy, half-mandatory patriotism. It is a physical reminder that all bounty belongs first to the Throne, and is returned to the people by the Emperor's grace.

The Opening of the Granaries

Once the Emperor’s Share is waterborne, the Imperial Governor steps onto the balcony of the city’s central administration spire. With a signal from a brass horn, the massive, rune-sealed doors of the Great Granaries are unbarred.

 * The State Feast: This is not a potluck. Long, trestle tables are set up in the city squares, stretching for miles. State-funded cooks and bakers bring out mountains of food. The fare is heavy, hearty, and wheat-centric: dense loaves of dark rye, savory meat pies filled with beef from the Stockyards, and vast roasted oxen turned on iron spits.

 * The Imperial Draft: Huge tuns of "Unity Ale"—a thick, golden beer brewed specifically for this day—are tapped. It is free to all citizens, a gift from the state to wash away the dust of the harvest season.

The Atmosphere: Weaponized Generosity

The vibe of the festival is overwhelming and secure. Banners hang from every window. Magically amplified criers read lists of crop yields, announcing that production is up, that the silos are full, and that the Empire is strong.

There is joy, certainly—the food is good, the beer is strong, and the work is done—but it is a joy contained within high walls. People toast to "The Shield and the Sheaf." They break bread shaped like the Imperial Eagle. It is a day designed to make every citizen look at their full plate and believe that without the Iron Dominion, they would starve. It is a celebration of the soil, tamed by the sword.

The Shadows in the Grain: True Dominion Resistance

Target Event: The Harvest of Unity

Objective: Undermine Imperial Authority through Symbolic Sabotage

For decades, the True Dominion attempted to disrupt the Harvest of Unity with force. They sabotaged wagon wheels, set fire to silos, and, in the infamous "Year of the Burning Barge" (c. 1495 NE), attempted to sink the Vox Imperia in the harbor of Portus Aquila.

These actions were tactical failures. They allowed the Empire to paint the rebels as enemies of the people—starving the common folk to make a point. The Imperial retaliation was swift; hundreds of Gutter-Claws were captured and executed publicly in the Plains of Remembrance, and public sympathy turned against the movement.

Under the guidance of the current Hidden Hand, tactics have shifted. The Dominion no longer seeks to destroy the food; they seek to corrupt the message. They have turned the Empire's obsession with uniformity against itself.

Operation 1: The Prism-Loaf

The Empire demands uniformity. During the Harvest, every loaf of "Unity Bread" baked in the state ovens of Veridia Secunda and Tiberium is supposed to be identical: a dense, golden-brown circle stamped with the Imperial Eagle.

 * The Method: In the weeks leading up to the festival, Dominion agents (often low-level dough mixers and stokers in the massive state bakeries) smuggle in concentrated alchemical dyes. These are not common paints, but "Spirit-Pigments" smuggled from the Dynasty via the shadow markets of the Wall of Talon and Stars.

 * The Sabotage: The agents mix these potent dyes into the massive vats of dough prepared for the public feasts. The dough is frozen or preserved by weak stasis magic until the day of baking.

 * The Result: On the morning of the festival, when the Imperial Governors theatrically break the first loaves to signal the start of the feast, the bread is not golden. It is a riot of chaotic, vibrant colors—shocking teals, neon violets, and garish pinks.

 * The Impact: The bread is perfectly safe to eat, but the symbolism is devastating. It ruins the "Golden Harvest" aesthetic the Empire spends millions to curate. It forces the Governors into a humiliating choice: cancel the feast and cause a riot, or allow the populace to eat "Rebel Bread," proving that the Empire cannot even control the color of its own grain. It is a silent, edible mockery of Precept 4 (Absolute Order Above All Else).

Operation 2: The Crimson Wake

While the bread mocks the Empire's order, the river protest attacks its morality. This operation is timed to coincide with the arrival of "The Emperor's Share" barge in Tiberium.

 * The Symbology: This act is a direct act of solidarity with the Werewolves of the Wildlands, who celebrate their own somber holiday, "The Blood-Bloom Flow," during this same lunar phase. It serves to remind the populace of the 110 Year War allies the Empire betrayed.

 * The Component: The Dominion utilizes Blood-Blooms, a rare, semi-aquatic flower native to the deep marshes of the Verdant Echoes. When crushed and mixed with water, a single sack of petals can dye millions of gallons of water a deep, visceral crimson. These are smuggled into the heartlands by Republic of The Dawn sympathizers using the Grand Concord River trade routes.

 * The Execution: As the Vox Imperia barge, laden with the "first grain," approaches the docks of the Imperial Citadel in Tiberium, Dominion cells upstream (often hiding in the drainage tunnels of the West Wing) dump concentrated Blood-Bloom extract into the currents.

 * The Visual: Within minutes, the Great Central River—the lifeblood of the Empire—turns the color of fresh arterial blood. The black-and-gold Imperial barge is forced to sail through a "Crimson Wake."

 * The Message: To the common people watching from the banks, the message is terrifyingly clear: The Empire feeds you grain, but it is bought with the blood of the forgotten. It stains the white stone of the Imperial Docks pink for days, a lingering reminder of the True Dominion's reach.