Once upon a time there was a minor warlord, hoping one day to finally complete his goal in life, which is world domination, and the annihilation of everyone and everything who dares to stay in his way. He established a small but well-fortified empire in the darker parts of the globe, and his troops, although few in number, are loyal to his command (and to the check they receive every month).
It was hard to fully satisfy this little general, because although he was small in size, he needed numerous amounts of meals and conquests in order for him to reach an optimal state that is at least close to ultimate satisfaction of this day. He would raise the taxes so he could afford more satiating meals, initiate surprise training for his troops on numerous occasions throughout the year, and made sure every newly-conquered land of his would be as fortified as financially and resourcefully possible, due to the hidden, yet disturbing fear of losing the new territories he and his army have worked so hard to conquer and to overthrow the local, native governments.
But still, regardless of his numerous conquests across the globe, his empire has remained small in size, while he was competing with other warlords, who would sometimes clash with his army, and even gain larger quantities of land than him, something which made him constantly frustrated, regardless of his hard endeavours to take over the world.
Land after land, recruit after recruit – life as a conqueror is not as glamourous as it's initially seen. It often feels like a job, and one of the worse kind of jobs – a job that never ends, a job that gives you the illusion that you're making significant progress towards your end-goal, but alas, the goal of ultimate power seems to remain far from sight.
One day was the little general's birthday, and for this occasion, a grand parade was planned. A countless number of regiments were stationed at the imperial capital, and plenty of devastating war machines were transferred to this central, bustling city, the nerve centre of this empire.
The end of the parade was near, as the sun was about to set down and let itself be replaced by the void of the night and its stars. A local reporter, in that day's summarizing press conference, asked the supreme general how he'll spend the remaining evening, and received a very surprising, yet controversial answer, from him: in the time left this evening he'll conquer the very world he has sworn his entire lifetime to rule with an iron fist.
"But, sir… just how exactly are you going to do such a quest at the very little amount of time you have? Aren't you tired from all this day?" The reporter further inquired.
"Of course I am tired, but I had enough time waiting for that day to come! It's time to unleash my empire's ultimate weapon, my secret air fleet, constructed by my finest loyalists, is about to unleash itself, upon the world!"
And, with a click of a button, the capital city suffered an intensive earthquake, as the surface-disguised panels across the empire's central region have opened along with the complete shock of the media and of locals alike, giving enough space for enormous naval-like airships rise from the underground to the night's skies, awaiting the general's orders. It seems that the general wasn't so little like initially believed.
The recently-appointed lieutenant, responsible for the naval airships and possibly the loyalist lieutenants in the general's empire, came to his presence and requested to be given orders for the operation of this secret weapon, hidden from the eyes of the world.
"Attack!" The general demanded.
"Uh.. sir, attack what?" The sub-commander asked in confusion.
"I don't care!" the general replied furiously. " This night will be where I shall be taking over the world, and I want these airships to bring the world to its knees before me. I do not care what it takes in order to do so, so I demand you to attack every piece of competition for world domination, at once! I had enough with waiting, spending countless years of my life just to establish a small empire in the far corners of the globe. It's irrational and frustrating… annoying... exhausting… tiring... "
And alas, the hard-working, unsatisfied warlord has collapsed on the floor in a mixture of extreme exhaustion and frustration, leaving his lieutenant in too much confusion to actually follow the order he was given. The general, after all, was using a metaphorical mask whenever he exited his residence to his nation, and thus his sudden collapse was too shocking, especially given that it was recorded live on the news!
Unfortunately for this small, nameless empire, the news was quickly delivered to the rest of the world, and in an emergency meeting, the world's leading empires have courageously created a coalition to counter-attack the little general and his air-armada. Within a matter of hours, in a costly but efficient battle, the entire armada, one by one, has fallen both metaphorically and literarily, initiating the deaths of many of the empire's residents, along with countless fires caused by the coalition.
When the general woke up from his unexpected collapse, the sun was shining in a cloudless sky – but his entire empire was literarily destroyed by the many crashes of his former-secret weapon, and very little survivors were left from the destructive attack.
How ironic; the same declaration of world domination was the exact one of which led to the ultimate fall of its announcer, letting him live the rest of his life wandering aimlessly in a one big crash site, the location of a former empire.
Learn from this the following: your own passion can eventually become your downfall if you aren't patient enough to endure it for long periods of time.