Hold onto your cups of tea and colonial hangovers, folks, because the mild-mannered Victorian Empire is back and it appears to be meaner than, well, it’s ever been really. Imagine Queen Victoria but in size 12 jackboots and a leather tank top. Yes, Victoria, the birthplace of cricket, tea breaks, and the term "stiff upper lip," has suddenly decided to brandish its military might. In a bizarre turn of events that seemed more suited for an episode of ‘The Crown: Steampunk edition’, the usually peace-loving, crumpet-and-tea indulging Victoria has threatened to flex military muscles it long forgot it had. Now, this might confuse many considering the last time the Victorian Empire was considered a threat, the telegraph was the height of technology, and digital watches were considered dark magic. The sudden emergence of Victorian warmongering has bewildered world leaders, some of whom had to consult their history books to verify that Victoria was indeed an entity beyond an Australian state and a central London train station. Meanwhile, Albertopolis has given way to an atmosphere of absolute consternation. The royal proclamation, delivered in the timeless medium of parchment by a man in a powdered wig, expressed in no uncertain terms the readiness of Victoria's hitherto unseen military to do whatever it takes to defend the interests of the Empire. Commentators worldwide were left befuddled, with some speculating about a possible twist in the new season of Netflix's hit show 'The Crown' and others suspecting a clever guerilla marketing campaign for the latest Assassin's Creed game. Could this just be a mid-life crisis for the Victorian Empire? Has it finally hit the point where it looks back on its peaceful life of modest imperialism regretfully, wondering if it might have done a Mongolia or a Rome if it traded niceties for Nukes? Is this the two-century itch? We may never know. In the meantime, military experts from all over the globe are wondering what this hidden army might consist of. Crumpet-launching catapults? Bayonet-wielding Beefeaters? A fleet of ships helmed by holograms of Admiral Horatio Nelson? It's all speculation, but our money's on a cavalry of corgis mounted by Buckingham Palace guards. To conclude, it seems the long nights nursing a waning empire gave Victoria a hankering for some good ol' military menace. Naturally, we're all eager to see how this threat unravels - if only to get an idea of what exactly a Victorian era army might look like in the age of drones and cyber warfare. Let's just hope they've moved past the musket.