In Part I: The Quiet Drift, the United States began to come apart not with a single crisis, but through a slow and quiet unraveling. Fiscal collapse, deepening political dysfunction, and the erosion of federal cohesion hollowed out the center. By the end, the flag still flew, but the country it represented mainly existed in name.

Part II: The Fracture followed the moment when that fragile framework finally gave way. Military command splintered, deterrence fractured, and the first regional blocs emerged — the Pacific Compact, the Southern Compact, the New England Coalition, each with its system of governance and vision for survival. The world adjusted to America’s absence, sometimes with relief, sometimes with unease.

Now, in Part III: The Breakaway, the focus shifts to what rose from the wreckage. Native nations reclaim sovereignty and, in some cases, expand it. Bloc governments consolidate power, strike trade deals, and rebuild infrastructure on their terms. Borders are redrawn as Mexico regains the Gadsden Purchase without firing a shot, Canada extends its influence deep into the north, and China, Russia, Cuba, and the EU move in quietly, not with armies, but with contracts, ports, technology, and capital.

In the background, the fate of America’s nuclear arsenal remains a destabilizing question, with some warheads becoming tools of regional influence and others sitting in places where neglect threatens disaster. A generation grows up having never known the Union, pledging loyalty to something else, or nothing at all.

This is the story of the post-American era: not restoration, but a patchwork of sovereignties learning, however uneasily, to share the same ground.

👉 Read it here: How It Ends — Part III: The Breakaway

The drift is over. The fracture begins.

In Part I: The Quiet Drift, I explored the quiet unraveling of the United States—not through dramatic civil war or formal secession, but through financial collapse, declining legitimacy, and the erosion of federal authority. That phase ended with the federal government hollowed out, barely holding territory through surveillance and inertia.

Part II: The Fracture picks up where that left off. This installment moves from historical analysis to near-future narrative. It’s not prophecy or fiction, but an informed extrapolation—grounded in precedent, legal constraints, and real-world defense systems already under strain.
This time, the consequences unfold.

We watch the disintegration of U.S. military command, the collapse of officer legitimacy, and the scattering of strategic deterrence. Nuclear custody breaks down. National Guard units fall fully under state control. Overseas allies reabsorb American assets, and adversaries circle what’s left. Territories like Guam and Puerto Rico face hard decisions. And for the first time in modern history, refugees begin to leave the United States in search of stability elsewhere.
This is not a restoration. It is not even a civil war. It is the slow death of continuity—replaced by improvisation, ambiguity, and permanent fragmentation.
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The full essay is now live on Substack:
👉 Read How It All Ends - Part II: The Fracture

If you haven’t read Part I, start here:
📖 How It Ends – Part I: The Quiet Drift

I’ve just published the first part of a long-form essay series called How It All Ends on Substack. This project began as a thought experiment, not a prediction: What happens when a federal government slowly stops working—not with a revolution or collapse, but through neglect, mismanagement, and quiet withdrawal?

Part I, titled The Quiet Drift, focuses on the erosion of federal cohesion in the United States. It traces how state and regional governments have, in many cases, already begun taking the lead on infrastructure, health care, disaster response, and even fiscal policy—often out of necessity, not defiance.

This isn’t a dystopian rant. It’s a systems-level analysis rooted in my background as a soldier, sailor, and consultant with nearly four decades of experience. It’s also informed by my academic grounding in political structures (thank you, University of New Mexico!). I knew that Poli Sci degree was good for something.

The core question isn’t whether the country breaks apart overnight—but whether it’s already breaking apart in ways we’ve simply normalized.

It’s long, yes. But the stakes are high. If you’ve felt like something fundamental is coming loose in how this country operates—or why things feel so directionless—I hope this gives you a framework to think it through.
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🔗 Read Part I on Substack: How It All Ends — The Quiet Drift

The warning signs aren’t subtle anymore.

Collapsing public services. Courts shielding the powerful. Policies that openly punish the vulnerable while rewarding corporations and political allies.

Many Americans are asking the same uneasy question:
Is this just bad governance—or something far worse?

I’ve spent the past few weeks writing a deep, difficult essay about this very question—examining what happens when a society’s foundational agreements, known as the social contract, are intentionally dismantled by those in power.

This isn’t just about political dysfunction or corruption. It’s about an organized effort, stretching back decades, to undo the very idea that governments owe anything to their people.

In my new Substack essay, I explore:

• The history and meaning of the social contract—and how it’s been weaponized.
• How movements like Project 2025 are following an old, dangerous playbook.
• Why today’s economic and political elite aren’t simply ignoring collapse—they’re welcoming it.
• The eerie parallels between our current moment and the fall of the Roman Republic.
• Why “bread and circuses” still work—until the bread runs out.
• Practical, grounded ways communities can resist—not by protesting alone, but by building alternative systems of survival.

This piece isn’t just another rant about politics. It’s a long, researched, and deeply personal reflection on where we are, how we got here, and what comes next.

I also dive into the unsettling mindset driving this crisis—what I call social Darwinism, rebranded, and explain why even tech billionaires like Peter Thiel openly reject democracy in favor of elite survival.

If you’ve ever wondered whether we’re simply living through yet another political crisis, or witnessing something far more dangerous and permanent, I hope this essay offers some clarity—and some ways forward.

👉 Read the full essay here:
The Death Cult’s Endgame: What Happens When the Social Contract Is Deliberately Broken? (Substack)

Most people think of the Civil War as something that happened far from here—fought in places like Gettysburg, Antietam, or Vicksburg. But in the spring of 1862, New Mexico became the front line of a Confederate invasion.

I recently dug into this fascinating—and largely forgotten—chapter of our history, inspired by a local July 4th weekend reenactment of the Battle of Glorieta Pass here in Edgewood. It was a small event, but it sparked something bigger for me: a deep dive into the stories behind New Mexico’s role in the Civil War.

Here’s what I discovered:

• Confederate troops really did invade New Mexico, aiming to seize the Southwest and Colorado’s gold fields.
• Along the way, they occupied Albuquerque and Santa Fe, flying the Confederate flag over the oldest capital city in the United States.
• At Valverde Ford, a bizarre and tragic “kamikaze mule” episode unfolded—one of the strangest moments of the war.
• Hispano New Mexican fighters, many of whom had been Mexican citizens just 14 years earlier, defended their homes with ferocity—motivated by long-standing animosity toward the invading Texans.
• Kit Carson and New Mexico volunteers played a pivotal role in shaping the region’s identity, laying the groundwork for eventual statehood.

I tell the full story—including the battles of Valverde and Glorieta Pass, the Confederate retreat, and why this history still resonates today—in my latest Substack essay:

👉 Read the full essay here:
https://open.substack.com/pub/axelnewe/p/the-battle-for-the-far-west-new-mexicos

It’s more than just a war story. It’s about the layers of identity in New Mexico—how families that had been here for centuries shaped the territory’s future and fought to defend it. That same dynamic still echoes today, even if most people have forgotten it.

Sometimes, the most fascinating parts of history aren’t the loudest. They’re the ones hiding in plain sight, right under our feet.