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The lightning failed to tear through the thick dark clouds, and after the thunder rolled through the lower layers, torrential rain poured down, washing over everything as if the heavens themselves were weeping for the misfortune of Mexico City.
In the Imperial Palace, Maximilian I sat motionless as if he had entered a sage state, unaffected by joy or sorrow, seemingly detached from everything around him.
"Your Majesty, we must go now! The enemy will surround the city soon, and it will be too late to escape!"
The anxious words of the guard snapped Maximilian I back to reality. The heavy rain came at the right time, successfully slowing down the rebel army's advance.
Maximilian I shook his head and said, "There's no need, Ferren. Mexico doesn't have an emperor who flees. I will wait for them here. You all should leave!"
Seeing that the situation was beyond hope, Maximilian I chose not to fight to the end. Instead, he dismissed his subordinates and faced failure alone.