Summer came gently, gracing the United State of Lili's Lake with the perfect balance of sunshine and rain. Plants blossomed vibrantly, growing tall and strong, and the strawberry bushes expanded beautifully, heavy with bright red berries. Life around the small kingdom flourished.
Lili felt proud, her tiny hands carefully picking berries, planting seeds, and watering the garden, her chickens close by, contentedly patrolling for bugs. Each day, her strength grew, her confidence blossoming like the plants around her.
One calm evening, as golden twilight filled the sky, Lili noticed movement at the forest edge. She stood very still, eyes wide with wonder, as Scar and Sleemo cautiously emerged. But this time, they weren't alone. Three small, curious baby foxes trotted closely behind, playfully tumbling through the soft grass.
Lili's heart softened instantly, warmth spreading within her chest at the sight of the little fox family. For a moment, Scar and Sleemo paused, looking directly toward Lili and her carefully fenced garden. Terminator stood vigilant by her side, feathers ruffled protectively, but the foxes only watched quietly before moving along, deciding not to test her strengthened defenses that day.
As the fox family vanished back into the shadows, a strange and curious thought suddenly bloomed within Lili's mind. She tilted her head thoughtfully, whispering softly to Terminator:
"You know, Terminator…what if those little foxes are…are our chickens? What if…what if the eaten chickens came back, j-just like I did?"
The idea was comforting somehow, oddly beautiful in her mind. Maybe the foxes weren't just predators—maybe they were part of a bigger circle, like she herself had experienced. After all, hadn't she died as Bruce and awakened as Lili, given a second chance in a different form? Perhaps the chickens who had fallen to Scar and Sleemo had also been reborn, now running happily as fox cubs, free and alive again.
She smiled softly at the thought, feeling warmth in her chest. Maybe death wasn't always a sad thing—perhaps it was just the start of something new, something gentle and better.
"E-even they have a f-family now," she murmured softly, touched deeply by this comforting idea. "Maybe…maybe we can have peace. Maybe…maybe the chickens aren't r-really gone. Maybe they're just different now. Like me."
Terminator tilted his head thoughtfully, seeming to consider her quiet, hopeful words. After a long moment, he clucked gently, as if agreeing that this made perfect sense.
As days grew warmer and peaceful nights became common, Lili turned her thoughts once more to her kingdom. The idea of creating a national anthem for the United State of Lili's Lake stirred in her heart. Every great country needed an anthem—a song that would inspire its people, fill their hearts with pride and joy.
But where to begin?
Sitting by the garden one morning, gently humming to herself, Lili thought back to her past life. She remembered kids' cartoons like Old MacDonald Had a Farm, smiling as the catchy tune filled her mind. She fondly recalled the majestic songs from The Lord of the Rings, especially the quiet, hopeful ones sung by elves and brave warriors. She thought of the countless country songs she had loved, Johnny Cash's gritty voice echoing warmly in her memories.
And then, suddenly, another vivid memory surfaced—Snow White. The gentle princess who sang so beautifully that animals became her friends. The thought filled her heart with excitement and hope. Maybe singing could help her connect with the creatures around her. Perhaps, through song, she could finally earn friendship—maybe even friendship with those little foxes, those reborn chickens, living happily nearby.
Her heart soared at this possibility, filled with determination and renewed optimism. And softly, gently, she began to sing.
"Old MacDonald had a farm, E-I-E-I-O…And on his farm, he had some hens, E-I-E-I-O…"
The chickens perked up immediately, feathers fluffing pleasantly as they bobbed their heads along with her soft melody. Encouraged by their reaction, Lili sang louder, her voice growing clearer and sweeter with each verse.
She wandered through familiar tunes from movies she'd cherished—quiet, hopeful songs from The Lord of the Rings that elves sang under starlit skies, brave and melancholy songs warriors had murmured around fires before battles. She combined them softly with Johnny Cash's warm, gritty melodies, feeling a new sense of strength rise within her chest.
As she continued singing, she glanced toward the forest hopefully. Though the deer and rabbits stayed hidden, she felt certain they must be listening—curious, perhaps even soothed by her gentle voice. She hoped someday they'd trust her enough to come closer, drawn to the warmth of her singing.
Each day, she practiced more diligently, her voice echoing gently across the lake's surface, rippling softly among the trees. Even while swimming, she sang bravely, her small voice ringing clear and true as she splashed in the cool water. Fish darted curiously beneath the surface, perhaps wondering about the strange melodies drifting through their watery world.
Inspired by memories of training scenes from her favorite movies, she started singing Eminem's songs while doing clumsy push-ups and shaky sit-ups each morning. As she pressed her small body against the earth, her determined voice echoed bravely:
"Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunityTo seize everything you ever wanted, in one momentWould you capture it, or just let it slip?"
"M-Mom's spaghetti," she mumbled proudly, breathing heavily but refusing to give up. Terminator watched closely, perhaps puzzled, but certainly impressed by her determination. Xena and Leia clucked enthusiastically, seemingly cheering her on as she continued her exercises, her voice gaining strength and confidence.
Soon, singing became an essential part of her daily life. It filled her lonely moments, easing the quiet sadness that sometimes crept into her heart. Her voice made her feel less alone, as if someone else was there—someone friendly, someone gentle and kind.
Her singing brought her great comfort, joy, and even confidence. Her voice—so unlike the awkward, shy singing of her past life—was genuinely beautiful now, sweet and clear, filling her with pride.
Yet, despite her best efforts, the forest animals remained cautious, never quite daring to come closer. Though she felt disappointed, she reminded herself that Snow White's friendships had taken time as well. Maybe someday, animals would trust her as they trusted the princess from her memories.
One quiet afternoon, feeling particularly inspired, Lili climbed carefully onto a small, moss-covered rock beside her garden. She stood tall, lifting her chin proudly, addressing her chickens solemnly:
"My loyal c-citizens, as President, I've decided w-we officially need an anthem," she declared seriously. Terminator, Xena, and Leia listened respectfully. "Every c-country has an anthem—a song that m-makes the heart brave. Today, we have ours."
She began gently, mixing melodies from Old MacDonald, Lord of the Rings, Johnny Cash, Eminem, and Snow White—all carefully woven together into a simple yet powerful song. Her voice echoed warmly through her small kingdom:
*"Oh, the sun shines bright on Lili's Lake,Where strawberries grow, and fishes swim.Our chickens march, so proud and brave,This land is ours, we'll never give in.
We've fought foxes, deer, and coldest night,Yet together we stand, brave and true.In peace we thrive, by morning's light,In our United State, me and you."*
Terminator tilted his head, deeply moved. Leia and Xena gently bobbed in rhythm, clucking appreciatively.
Lili smiled warmly, feeling satisfied and proud. Her anthem was humble and simple, yet it was hers—a melody to carry proudly in her heart, a song that would always remind her of courage, resilience, and hope.
As evening settled gently over the lake, she sat quietly near the garden, softly humming her new anthem. She thought again of the fox family, of rebirth and the gentle circle of life. She felt happy now, hopeful, knowing she'd grown stronger and braver than she'd ever imagined possible.
Yet, as stars appeared softly in the twilight sky, her thoughts drifted once more toward Frank. Was he out there somewhere, looking for her? Did he think about her, remember her singing, her laughter, her awkward yet earnest attempts at friendship?
And Amber, her girlfriend—had Amber finally found happiness?
Shaking her head softly, she gazed upward, watching as stars brightened one by one.
Maybe someday she'd find answers to these questions, and perhaps someday the forest animals would finally become her friends. But for now, she had her chickens, her land, her strawberries, and her songs.
Quietly, confidently, she whispered into the gentle evening breeze:
"This is my anthem, my l-land. And I am Lili. I'll keep singing and hoping, forever."
As darkness enveloped her small kingdom, Lili continued humming softly, feeling safe, brave, and content, her gentle voice carrying hope into the quiet night.
Satisfied with the anthem she'd created, Lili felt deeply proud, but soon another realization crept into her heart: to become a true, respectable nation, The United State of Lili's Lake needed more. It needed a banner, a culture, and perhaps even a religion.
One peaceful afternoon, as she rested near her garden, Lili's mind drifted again to her days of playing Medieval 2: Total War. In that game, nations weren't just strong because of their armies; they were strong because of culture, religion, and most importantly—because they had cool banners and armor. Yes, banners especially mattered. She vividly remembered the noble banners carried by knights, the proud, vibrant symbols of kings and kingdoms.
Then suddenly, another image surfaced from her memories—the bright blue banner of the Alliance from World of Warcraft, with its fierce golden lion. Excitement surged through her small chest. Yes, that banner! That would be the perfect symbol for her nation.
But quickly, worry shadowed her excitement. Would it be wrong to take the Alliance banner? Would someone call her a fraud for borrowing such a noble symbol? She frowned thoughtfully, rubbing her small chin, deeply conflicted.
Then, inspiration struck like lightning. She didn't need a lion at all. She had something better—a symbol uniquely hers.
She turned excitedly toward Terminator, her faithful rooster standing proudly nearby.
"You'll be my banner, Terminator!" she declared brightly, eyes shining. "Instead of a l-lion head, it'll be your brave, noble head on the banner."
Terminator puffed his feathers proudly, clucking softly as if agreeing it was a perfect idea. It filled Lili with confidence and joy. Now, she just needed to figure out how to actually make that banner.
But banners alone weren't enough; she also needed clothes and armor to look the part of a true President and warrior. Remembering once again the Medieval 2: Total War knights and heroes from her beloved games and movies, she resolved to begin crafting proper clothing. Rabbit fur, she realized, would be perfect for warm and sturdy garments.
Despite guilt still nagging gently at her heart, she began enthusiastically placing more traps deeper in the forest, always careful, always softly apologizing as she set each one.
"I'm so s-sorry, little rabbits," she murmured sincerely. "But I p-promise I'll honor your sacrifice."
And slowly but surely, her traps became successful. Soon, she began carefully making primitive clothes. It was awkward at first, her small fingers struggling with fur and bone needles, stitching unevenly and clumsily, but eventually she managed to create simple but warm garments. A soft rabbit fur cape wrapped gently around her shoulders, giving her an unexpected feeling of power and dignity. Proudly, she wore her cloak, declaring herself not only President but a Warrior President of her small yet brave nation.
She began crafting primitive weapons as well—simple spears from sharpened sticks, small bone knives, and even tried using sharpened stones. Though imperfect, they gave her a greater sense of strength and security.
Yet, as successful as her clothes and weapons were becoming, the banner still eluded her. How exactly did one make a banner? She puzzled over this greatly, scratching her head thoughtfully, but remained stubbornly determined to solve this problem eventually.
In quiet moments by the lake, she considered her nation's culture and religion as well. Cultures in games were clear, distinct—knights and castles, feasts and dances, tournaments and songs. Religions were powerful and comforting, giving people faith and strength. What could her nation's culture and religion be?
Unable to think of a complicated religion, she settled instead on simpler, heartfelt beliefs:
"In our nation," she declared solemnly to her chicken companions, "there'll always be plenty of food challenges—because food makes p-people happy. We'll believe in freedom, because freedom is good. And…no crime allowed, ever, because crime is b-bad."
The chickens clucked approvingly, seeming to find these beliefs agreeable. Lili nodded firmly, satisfied that her nation's foundation was solid enough for now.
As summer waned slowly into autumn, and autumn gently gave way to the chill whispers of approaching winter, Lili's small kingdom thrived. The garden expanded, her rabbit-fur clothing grew warmer, and her primitive tools and weapons became more reliable. Yet, still, the banner remained unmade—a project saved for later days when inspiration might come.
The lake slowly froze at the edges again, and nights grew longer and colder, yet Lili was no longer afraid. This time, she was prepared. She had warmth, food, companions, and most importantly, confidence in herself. She was the Warrior President, defender of the United State of Lili's Lake.
Yet, beneath this newfound strength, quiet moments still reminded her of loneliness. She still longed for friends, wondered about Frank and Amber, dreamed about Star Wars and World of Warcraft, and hoped someday someone might come to her forest.
But for now, as winter drew near, she felt pride. Her small kingdom was strong, stable, and thriving. Her chickens—Terminator, Xena, and Leia—stood loyally at her side. She was ready to face the cold, knowing deep in her heart that she would survive again.
Quietly, she hummed her nation's anthem, warmth filling her chest, as snowflakes began softly drifting from the sky.
"Long live the Warrior President," she whispered softly, smiling gently into the cold, determined to face whatever challenges lay ahead.