The Sanctuary of Synturia is a gargantuan, efficient nation, ruled by Sanctus with an iron fist, and renowned for its multi-spousal wedding ceremonies, smutty television, and suspicion of poets. The hard-nosed, hard-working, cynical, humorless population of 14.966 billion Synturians are ruled by a mostly-benevolent dictator, who grants the populace the freedom to live their own lives but watches carefully for anyone to slip up.

The medium-sized, corrupt, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Defense, Education, and Industry. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Sanctum. The average income tax rate is 96.8%.

The frighteningly efficient Synturian economy, worth a remarkable 8,995 trillion Zims a year, is broadly diversified and mostly comprised of black market activity, especially in Information Technology, Arms Manufacturing, Retail, and Uranium Mining. Average income is a breathtaking 601,090 Zims, and evenly distributed, with the richest citizens earning only 4.0 times as much as the poorest.

The government denies that it has an agency overseeing plausible deniability of black-ops agencies, an increasing number of citizens believe the world is flat, the men in trenchcoats hanging around playgrounds are actually police officers, and escaped birthday balloons are torpedoed out of the sky. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown. Synturia's national animal is the drone, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to widespread deforestation.

Synturia is ranked 14,539^th in the world and 1^st in Mystic Shores for Largest Automobile Manufacturing Sector, scoring 6,521.4 on the Henry Ford Productivity Index.