diterranean Sea, Floating Island Cluster at the Schicksal Headquarters.
At this mont, daylight had faded. The blinding artificial lights that stread from every corner dimd, and as the last rays of the setting sun retreated, the night descended.
Manmade brilliance replaced the sun’s radiance, illuminating the nine floating islands with a dazzling brightness akin to daylight.
The floating islands bustled with activity. Burly soldiers roared with laughter, and the cacophony of clinking glasses and lively chatter echoed through every corner of the islands.
As dinner ti arrived, the ss personnel got to work, preparing als for the massive army. Servants, auxiliary Imperial troops, and Astartes warriors each gathered with their respective units.
Despite the relaxed atmosphere of the al, the soldiers emanated an aura of discipline and readiness. Armor remained donned, and weapons stayed close at hand. Patrols, shifts, and both overt and covert watch posts operated seamlessly. Each squad retained its organizational structure.
Amid the groups, the most boisterous and animated by far were the Astartes.
The auxiliary troops followed, with the servant forces trailing in volu and vigor. Judging by the sheer loudness of their conversations, the hierarchical gap between the divisions of the Imperial military was made abundantly clear.
Astartes, in their tactical squads of approximately ten warriors, lounged in circles on the ground, arms slung over shoulders. They argued passionately, spoke with unrestrained fervor, and ate and drank with voracious enthusiasm. The atmosphere was nothing short of exuberant.
With the conclusion of military campaigns across Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East under Alex’s command, more and more senior officers and Astartes units converged on Schicksal’s headquarters.
The sheer scale of this assembly was unprecedented. Ever since Otto relocated Schicksal’s headquarters to the floating islands, this marked the first ti all nine islands were packed to capacity. Soldiers of the Imperial military filled every space, from helipads to gardens and plazas.
This influx posed a massive challenge to the headquarters’ kitchen supplies. Even with all the chefs working to exhaustion, they could barely scratch the surface of the food demand.
Before this, the kitchens primarily catered to the Valkyrie units and ordinary Schicksal staff. That was a relatively small group of people, most with normal or even modest appetites.
Now?
Let’s not even talk about the monstrous appetites of the Astartes warriors. Even the servant and auxiliary troops devoured food like bottomless pits.
To et the demand, nurous cooks from the Imperial Navy vessels docked nearby ca ashore, bringing with them large-capacity cooking equipnt and an array of exotic ingredients from other worlds.
Indeed, the Empire had standard-issue rations like compressed biscuits, energy bars, and nutrient solutions for field operations. But since they could set up proper kitchens and this wasn’t an ergency mission, why settle for bland, uninspired sustenance?
Thanks to Selene’s influence, being a chef in the Empire, while not reaching the exaggerated status of culinary worlds in fantasy, was nonetheless a respectable career path.
As a result, any dining facility under an official Imperial departnt offered excellent food.
Scientific studies have also shown that eating delicious als helps relieve stress. Thus, alti had beco a rare and cherished mont of relaxation for Imperial soldiers, especially the servant troops, whose lives were otherwise tightly reginted.
At this mont, in a corner of the floating island Midgard.
"Bronya, the side effects of overusing your Herrscher powers haven’t subsided yet. You’re still very weak. Please, lie down and rest for a while."
The girl’s voice was clear and soft, carrying an innocent tremble unique to a youthful soul.
Seele Vollerei set down her bowl and chopsticks, reaching out to steady a frail gray-haired girl. Her ocean-blue eyes brimd with worry and care.
"Seele..." Bronya murmured, her voice as emotionless and monotone as ever.
There was no glaring white light... So, this wasn’t the Hyperion’s infirmary.
Muttering faintly, the girl’s delicate face showed no visible emotion. She opened her eyes, pupils gradually focusing, her vision sharpening. In Bronya’s pale-gray irises, the concerned face of Seele was reflected.
"Seele, Kiana, the Principal, the Class Monitor... how is everyone? Did we succeed? Otto, he..."
Bronya’s concern for her physical state was fleeting as she hurriedly asked questions.
Mid-sentence, her gaze inadvertently drifted past Seele, and suddenly, her pupils constricted. The dazed look on her face vanished entirely as she reached out with a trembling hand, struggling to sit up.
"What... what is that?"
In the dim night sky, countless steel fortresses floated, their cold tal surfaces gleaming faintly under the equally cold lights that illuminated them.
On these massive ships, each tens of kiloters in length, countless cannons extended outward. Enormous main guns aid into the endless darkness of the heavens, and between the violent machinery, a colossal golden double-headed eagle statue lood, with sharp prows slicing through the firmant like swords.
"Don’t worry, Bronya. This is the Schicksal Headquarters," Seele gently reassured her, placing Bronya softly onto her lap. Following her gaze, she continued in a calming voice, "Those are the fleets of the Empire’s Navy."
"The Empire?"
Panting lightly, Bronya mulled over Seele’s words. Gradually calming herself, she asked, her face filled with confusion, "What exactly happened... while Bronya was unconscious?" With Seele’s support, Bronya sat up straight, her pale-gray eyes scanning their surroundings.
Struggling to her feet, Bronya covered her face with one hand, frowning as she flicked her gray, drill-like twin-tails to the side, letting out a soft hum.
"They’re soldiers, aren’t they?" she stated with certainty.
The floating islands of the Schicksal Headquarters remained as she rembered, but the people here were starkly different from her mories.
Aside from a few Valkyries gathered quietly, eating with evident restraint, there was a significant presence Bronya had never encountered before.
These military n, exuding a palpable air of discipline and violence, brought mories of her days as a "Silver Wolf of the Urals" flooding back.
After losing her parents, Bronya was raised by a shadowy military organization, trained to beco a cold, emotionless killing machine. As one of their elites, she had undertaken nurous assassination missions, making her deeply familiar with the atmosphere of such a militant entity.
"Yes, the Sacred Selene Empire. Imperial soldiers."
The voice, feminine yet tinged with an almost boastful pride, ca from behind her.
It was a voice she knew well. Instantly, the surprise in Bronya’s eyes was impossible to conceal. She turned around and softly whispered, "Sister i."
Though her appearance had changed—sharper, more mature, and far removed from the gentle aura of a yamato nadeshiko—Bronya still called out to her as she had back at St. Freya Academy.
"Yes, it’s been a while, Bronya." Sitting opposite Kiana, Raiden i’s violet-red eyes revealed an unmistakable tenderness as she smiled gently. "I’m back."
"It’s great! Bronya, you’re finally awake. Missing out on such a feast would’ve been a real sha. Selene’s troops brought so many ingredients I’ve never even heard of before. Apparently, a lot of them are from alien beasts, and they’re supposed to be really good for nourishing the body." This was Kiana.
"Bronya, as long as you’re okay, that’s what matters." This was Fu Hua.
"Nom nom nom... Oh, you’re awake," mumbled Li Sushang through a mouthful of food.
"Bronya! You scared Rozaliya (and Liliya) to death!" chid in the red-and-blue-haired Arlene twins in unison.
"I’m so glad, everyone..." Bronya began, relief washing over her as the scene behind her ca into focus.
On either side of a simple rectangular table sat the companions Bronya cherished most, all unhard and well. They were seated along the table in their usual places.
Kiana sat opposite Bronya with Raiden i, Fu Hua, and Li Sushang beside her. anwhile, Rozaliya and Liliya flanked Bronya herself.
The table was laden with a wide array of dishes, most of which seed to be at. There were cuts of pork and beef that Bronya could recognize, but the majority were entirely unfamiliar.
These high-protein, high-fat foods were served in enormous portions. The sheer size of the at cuts and the thick bones made Bronya suspect these weren’t Earthly creatures. Could they really be alien beasts, as Kiana suggested?
Feeling a weight lifted off her chest, Bronya allowed herself a rare soft smile. But as she took a mont to reflect, she realized so key people were missing. Her eyes widened with sudden urgency as she asked, "Where are the Principal and Durandal? And... what about Dr. Einstein and Dr. Tesla?"
"Theresa, huh..."
Munching away, Li Sushang paused long enough to wave a hand toward the central square of the floating island, Midgard. "Over there, sitting with the big shots."
She gulped down a large mug of honey wine before continuing, "Don’t you rember Otto’s final command as Archbishop? Nobody knows where he went, but Principal Theresa is now Schicksal’s Archbishop."
As the acting Archbishop of Schicksal, Theresa had led the organization to capitulate almost entirely to the Empire. Naturally, this entitled her to certain privileges—like dining with the Astartes Legion commanders.
However... "The Principal is over there? Huh? Why don’t I see her?" Bronya asked, looking in the direction Li Sushang had pointed.
Her gaze landed on a series of round tables, each surrounded by what could only be described as the Empire’s high-ranking officers.
Judging by their ostentatious uniforms, ornate epaulets, and gleaming sashes adorned with dals, these were undoubtedly the Empire’s elite.
And in the very center of it all was the most striking table of them all, where towering, heavily armored giants sat. Each radiated an overwhelming energy that seed to ripple through the air.
"Heh, see? I wasn’t kidding about them being big shots," Li Sushang said smugly, setting down her glass and wiping her mouth with satisfaction.
"They’re definitely... significant figures," Bronya muttered stiffly. Her eyes scanned the table again before she finally spotted Theresa.
Nestled between a gold-armored giant and a black-armored one, a small tuft of white hair poked above the table’s edge. Squinting, Bronya could just make out Theresa.
However, the table specifically designed for the Astartes Legion commanders was far too tall for soone like Theresa.
Surrounded by these towering, broad-shouldered giants, their shadows entirely enveloped Theresa’s diminutive figure.
Seated on her chair, Theresa had stacked five or six thick books beneath her just to reach the tabletop. Yet, even after achieving that, her tiny hands struggled to wield the oversized knife and fork.
"Ugh..."
It wasn’t because the table was too large or her arms too short.
The serving plates themselves were enormous, and the glassware these Legion commanders used for toasts was nearly the size of Theresa’s upper body.
Amidst these giants, Theresa couldn’t shake the feeling that she resembled a hobbit in their company. She felt completely out of place. At that mont, only one thought consud Theresa’s mind—
"I want to sit at the kids’ table!" Theresa shouted internally.
"Hm? Archbishop Theresa, is sothing wrong?"
Having just clinked glasses with Alex and gulped down his drink, Vulkan noticed the lancholic expression on the petite Archbishop sitting beside him. His face softened, and he leaned in to ask with what he believed to be a gentle tone.
"Here," he added, slicing off a large, tender portion of sirloin from a Tier-1 Danger Beast Earth Dragon and offering it to her. "Relax, Your Excellency. We’re all on the sa side now."
"Oh..." Theresa murmured, her voice barely audible as a mosquito’s buzz. A blush spread across her cheeks as she lowered her head. "Thank you..."
The sight made the other Legion commanders roar with laughter.
"Lorgar just sent a report," Alex interjected. "He’s cleaned up North Africa and the Middle East and is on his way here with spoils of war."
"Spoils of war? If he’s personally bringing them back here, he must’ve hit the jackpot," remarked Jaghatai Khan, the leader of the Astartes Fifth Legion—Masters of the White Scars—recently returned from a high-speed raid across the Eastern European plains.
Jaghatai lounged lazily in his chair, his jet-black hair tied high behind him. His sharp eyebrows and prominent nose complented his thick, steel-like mustache. Draped over his exquisitely crafted power armor was a grand white fur cape.
"Perfect timing," added Sanguinius. "Our sector’s campaign might wrap up the fastest."
"Ugh..." Theresa sighed, realizing she couldn’t keep up with the conversation. Left with no alternative, she buried herself in her al.
...
"Theresa seems to be having a great ti," Li Sushang quipped, resting her chin on her hand. "I’d love to join—ouch!"
Slap.
"Which eye of yours sees Theresa enjoying herself?" Fu Hua lightly smacked the back of Li Sushang’s head and retracted her hand as the latter yelped in pain. "Eat properly."
"Alright, alright, no need to be so strict... Hey, wait, what are you writing, Master Fu Hua?"
Returning her focus to the notebook in front of her, Fu Hua didn’t look up as she replied, "The task assigned by Her Majesty Selene."
"Oh, carry on then, I won’t disturb you."
As she regained her composure, Bronya turned her gaze toward Kiana and the others seated at the opposite end of the long table. She opened her mouth, intending to ask questions, but her thoughts were in such disarray that she couldn’t decide where to begin.
How long was I unconscious? Why has the world changed so drastically? Who are these soldiers, these warships, these giants? Where did they co from?
"Class Monitor, the Selene you ntioned... Who is she?" Bronya’s sharp mind zeroed in on the key point.
Suddenly, Bronya felt an ominous gaze from the Imaginary Space. The Herrscher of Reason core within her began sounding alarms, and her attention snapped to the source.
Crack.
A sound like shattering glass filled the air. Sparks of purple-red fire burst into existence, scattering irregular glowing streaks in the atmosphere as they radiated outward from a single point.
The rift in physical space widened, growing to the size of a dinner plate. From it erged a tiny green-haired girl, no bigger than a Barbie doll.
"Ouch!"
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