Yes, this is incredibly silly. I love it. The awesome art was a gift by the lovely https://www.furaffinity.net/user/01phoenix01 on furaffinity , and of course I had to pair it with a suitable story, describing the… unfortunate events that took place quite early in Goldeneye’s reign. Enjoy~

Contains: gryphon oral vore hypnosis (sort of) fat multiple prey digestion

When a small group of concerned citizens made a very timorous proposal to the emperor to allow a small degree of democracy in local government, he didn't react as they expected. In fact, he seemed very enthusiastic about the idea.

They should have seen that as a warning sign.

It had started as small-scale as possible, in order to make it less likely to be rejected with extreme prejudice. His Imperial Supremacy Emperor Goldeneye the First and Eternal was not exactly paranoid, but he was… greedy. The idea that something in his empire, that anything in his empire, lay outside of his total control was a very, very dangerous concept.

Iverin, a short, blue-scaled lizard, and his group, of various species, a small alliance of academics and political scientists, were careful to make it clear that this was not the case. The Emperor would still have full veto power, if he wished to exercise it. But currently, roles of relatively low-level importance but still significant impact - guardhouse commanders, administrators for clerk offices, wreathed judges and the like - were being appointed not by him, but by subordinates with their own agendas. Wouldn’t it be better to have the people themselves decide? Goldeneye had always made it clear that he wanted his empire to be a good place to live in, even if it was so that meeting a fate in his guts would be even more terrifying.

They had diagrams. They had plans. They had a full presentation to give. Even so, all of them entered the throne room prepared to die for the cause. With an Emperor who sometimes ate stars from out of the sky just to show off, who saw all secrets inside mens own heads, and who would never age, sicken or die, there was no political hope for Seraphia. Just like its leader, it would never change… unless people dared. A chance to plant the seed of democracy, no matter how small, was worth the risk of their own lives.

Of course, they didn’t say it that way. But none of them were prepared for the outcome. The Emperor was delighted at the prospect of making his society more equal and fair. He only had one question: why start on such a small scale? Why not a more important role? Why not district councillors, or city councillors, or high judges, or… Emperors?

Looking back over the months of planning and organising, Iverin was never quite sure where it had come from. Had it been his idea? Or Taosi’s? Or one of the others? Surely not the Emperor himself. He had co-ordinated with them, sure, but why would he ever make such an offer?

He hadn’t thought about any of it. He’d been far, far too busy. Elections were a great idea for political science journals, but a lot harder in real life. So much to do, so much to explain. In the end, more than a dozen people submitted their candidacy for the throne. Goldeneye himself was one of them, smiling playfully as he turned in his papers. Of the others, only two were serious contenders, a distant cousin of the royal family which the Emperor had devoured on his first night in the city after falling from the sky, arguing for a return to the old ways, and a Framandar - a military commander - espousing the virtues of a strong state. Astoundingly, they were doing very well, with most polls forecasting a roughly even split between the two of them and the Emperor. Even the people had responded well, intrigued by this sudden rush of power. Everything was going incredibly well.

Too well.

He woke up on the morning of the election with nothing but that thought in his head, lit up as if it had been carved in thirty foot letters in the desert sun. Without knowing what he was doing, he scrambled out of bed, dressed as quickly as he could, and staggered down the street in the cool morning air, outside the local polling station where the rest of the alliance was already congregating.

“Ah, Iverin!” Taosi, a well-built desert cat with sandy fur, smiled warmly at him. Not everyone else was here yet, it seemed. “You excited for the big day?”

“We need to stop this!”

They looked at him. Iverin’ mind was one of his best features, he’d always felt so. So why, why on earth, was it so hard to make this work.

“This… the… the emperor, he… this isn’t… making sense… can’t you see it? It, he’s, he’s been playing us all along! We, we need to stop this.”

“The only one not making sense here is you, Iverin,” Katua called from near the voting booth where she was chatting to a couple of others. “Besides, how do you suggest we stop it? There are polling stations all across the empire. This is happening. Hell, several of us have voted already.”

“Yes, and- he- he wants it… to… don’t you see? You know what he is! You know what he does! And w-we- we thought he’d give up anything at all?”

He spread his hands desperately. The others looked at him. For a moment, Iverin felt a horrible sense of hope.

Then they shrugged.

“I think you need to take a break, friend,” Taosi said gently. “This has been a busy few months for all of us. How about you cast your vote and then take the day off?”

“W… why aren’t you listening to me? Why aren’t any of you listening to me?”

“Because you’re being unreasonable, and you know it. This is what we worked for, remember?” Taosi moved towards him, hands raised gently. “Come on, Iverin. I’ll take you home.”

Iverin stared at him, pushing through the fog in his head. It made no sense. These were the cleverest, most perceptive people he’d ever know. It was as though they had been blinded, as though the idea was something they just couldn’t… see.

...couldn’t see.

The Emperor could wipe himself from your mind, stopping your conscious brain from registering any sign of his presence and making himself effectively invisible. It was well known. So why couldn’t he do that to an idea?

Ivernis stumbled back, his eyes widening. No. No, no, no, no, no.

“‘Goldeneye is completely amoral and utterly self-serving. While highly intelligent and empathetic, he is completely incapable of any form of sympathy with other beings, feelings of fear and misery causing as much pleasure as hope and kindness. He is an alien intellect, his consciousness completely alien to we he calls his subjects.’” He spoke the words carefully, having committed them to memory long ago, staring at the cat as he slowly approached. Taosi did not react at all.

Taosi was the one who had written them.

Iverin whimpered, backing against a wall, and his friend paused. “Oh, hang on. I wanted to cast my vote first. Iverin, listen to me. You’re not well, and I will get you home. Just give me one moment. Osix, can you watch him a moment?”

He turned back to the booth, walking towards it. Iverin stared at the sight, trembling, his mind racing. There had to be something he could say, something he could do, to break the spell.

For some reason, his gaze kept sliding off Taosi and onto the voting booth itself, a relatively normal thing with deep blue curtains and a sign at the top. Iverin squinted at him, trying to ignore the distraction. Why was it so interesting?

The emperor could make himself invisible, which meant he could also make things invisible, which meant he could also make concepts invisible…

...which meant he could also make himself invisible.

It wasn’t invisibility. Nothing appeared from thin air. Iverin was just suddenly aware of what he had not been noticing. It was more like a painting with a face hidden in it. His perspective just shifted slightly, and the emperor was here. His Imperial Supremacy, Goldeneye the First and Eternal, crouched inside the voting booth, the curtains billowing outwards around his enormous body. His wide flanks swelled the sides to an absurd degree, and only his large, elegant head protruded, bejewelled eyes gleaming mercilessly, ears flattened, gaze fixed straight on Iverin himself. Taosi was walking straight towards that cruel hooked beak, and as Iverin watched, it opened with a languid, easy grace. The interior was hot enough to steam slightly, wet, soft flesh glistening and rippling, wide enough to accept an entire person with ease. Behind, the dusky arch of his gullet gulped hungrily at the air, gorging itself on nothing but the state of its prey. As the massive gryphon shifted, Iverin could see how his belly squished and sloshed, heavy already with fat and its own contents. With a deep ache in his chest, he realised why some of the alliance wasn’t here. Some of us have voted already.

There was a deep, wet gurgle from inside that vast gut, which no-one but Iverin seemed to hear. Playfully, Goldeneye winked at him. Iverin screamed, ducking around Osix and staggering towards his friend, now only inches from the drooling maw. “NO!” he screamed. “DON’T VOTE! TAOSI, PLEASE!”

“Oh, give it a rest. You won’t convince me. We need more democracy.” Taosi brushed the curtain. He paused, perhaps feeling the boiling heat of the Emperor’s enormous body. “Hey, w-”

GLRRK.

The first and last imperial election in the Empire of Seraphia ended in a perfect tie, with no votes cast for any of the candidates. Some have attributed this to political apathy, some to unfamiliarity with a new system, and some to the fact that the Emperor devoured every single person to even touch a voting booth, reducing the population of his Empire by a considerable amount and leaving him so swollen and bloated that he could barely stand upright when he announced his victory by default that evening. Since then, despite his smirking suggestions, no-one else has been very keen to have another election. Goldeneye himself doesn’t seem to mind, and finds other ways to keep his power, and his waistline, continually expanding.

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