Karat shook her head. “How does their army not disintegrate under the weight of all those feelings? How ever do they fight?”

“Very well,” Tomato said. “They’re a machine, disciplined and united. Their morale is impossible to break.”

“When they decide to resort to violence, it’s because an overwhelming majority of them feel it’s justified. They are united in their righteousness,” I said.

“But they’re still individuals,” Dagorkun said. “There will be dissent.”

“There is, and if the dissent grows too large, those united by it will abandon cause,” I said. “The Dominion’s civil wars are the bloodiest in the galaxy. It’s not a matter of policy or interests. It’s all fueled by emotion. Kosandion is a monarch, the executive head of their state. Their policies and laws are enacted by him, but they’re dictated by legislative, judicial, and religious branches.”

“So what happens if the Sovereign becomes unpopular?” Dagorkun asked.

“At first, it will produce a collective anxiety,” I said. “People will become more irritable. You will see the rise in general rudeness, lack of patience, and disproportionately severe reactions to small annoyances. The people of the Dominion will sense the discontent among their peers and will want to disconnect from those feelings, but there’s no escape. If the situation is allowed to worsen, the stress-related breakdowns will increase. Conception rates will drop, and miscarriages will occur more often, because the collective unhappiness indicates that now is not a good time to have a child and activates certain biological mechanisms to lower the birth rate. Their collective immunity will falter, making the population vulnerable to plagues. Brawls will break out in the streets, and there will be a sharp uptick in spree killers.”

The vampire and the otrokar stared at me. Cookie smiled into his whiskers. He hadn’t said a word this entire time. He just listened.

“Eventually, a chunk of the population will snap in self-defense, and someone will murder the Sovereign,” I finished.

Tomato nodded. “We’ve watched it happen. It is the same for the Six Star Supremacy, the Dominion’s sister empire.”

The first time I had seen the collective empathy of the Dominion in action, I was sixteen years old. I had decided I wanted to go to college, and that morning I went to take my SATs. I had told my family in advance. I scheduled it. I paid for it. Everyone agreed to let me be. It should’ve been a quiet morning. The inn had about a hundred visitors. Klaus and Michael were off on a fishing trip with Dad. Maud and Mom were at home, holding the fort, and between the two of them, they didn’t need my help with anything.