The year was 282 BC. It was a joyous day in the great city of Tyre, beating heart of the eastern Mediterranean and indeed all the civilized world. It was a joyous day for a great celebration was taking place, a celebration of victory. The Oracle of Delphi, the high priests of Heracles-Melqart in Tyre, the astrologers and seers of the Mouseion, and even, if the rumours were to be believed, the Reincarnation of Alexander himself, as well as numerous other holy men, women, and children, had just a few months ago all uttered the same phrase at the same time: "Syria won Mk14, for the awards have told us so".

Now, nobody knew what this "Mk14" was or what these "awards" were, but the great and glorious diarchs of Syria, Mesopotamia, Babylonia, Cilicia, Cyprus, Crete, and their many other domains, Craterus III and Amphoterus, were pretty sure that it was a good thing and that they and their dynastic predecessors were probably the ones who deserved the credit. So they had thus proclaimed a national month of celebration across their whole realm, and for all who followed the Cult of Heracles-Melqart regardless of their temporal sovereign, and after extensive preparation today was the day that month of exuberant celebration began.

However, when he looked out at the cheering crowds assembled beneath him from his palace's balcony, giving the perfunctory waves of acknowledgement to his adoring subjects, and smiling as Amphoterus, his younger brother, performed much more animated antics to the great applause of the people, Craterus III could nonetheless not prevent a slight tingle of melancholy from infesting his mind, as if this was not a celebration of the start of a new era, but rather of the end of an old one. While the diarchy of greater Syria would no doubt stand as the world's preeminent power until the gods finally crushed this world into smithereens with their divine squabbling, the great adventures, wars, and schemes of diadochi were coming to a close, as the former realm of Alexander the Great had finally broken apart and its remains settled into a new status quo. After a few moments of introspection and contemplation, Craterus III shook these thoughts from his head and grabbed a glass of fine Syrian wine from an attendant, and got ready to enjoy the rest of the night. It was going to be a long one.