"Move! Move! Hurry up!"
"Lock down all areas within the base. Prioritize securing the laboratories, research institutes, data centers, and foundries to prevent resistance forces from sabotaging them."
Dr. Halsey lifted her head, her azure eyes reflecting the shifting images before her.
At this mont, although the terrifying celestial colossus had vanished from the sky, the re fact that she still found herself floating in space was enough to send shivers down her spine. Just recalling that overwhelming figure of the Divine Empress looming over the battlefield made her heart race and her adrenaline surge.
Everyone understood—it wasn’t an illusion; it had truly happened!
"Unbelievable... How is this possible? What kind of technology is this... or is it divine power?"
Around her, dozens of Spartans and mbers of the Spartan Operations division exchanged uncertain glances, gazing blankly upwards. Today, too many things had defied common sense, leaving them with the feeling that their worldview was crumbling before their eyes.
Before them, floating holographic screens were broadcasting real-ti footage of Reach.
After the Covenant aliens, along with the UNSC garrison troops, their families, and civilians, had been returned to the planet, Dr. Halsey, the Spartan Operations personnel, and the surviving high-ranking officers of Reach’s UNSC Fleet Command found themselves surrounded by countless holographic displays showing live feeds of the planet’s surface.
From the center of the displays, crisp footsteps echoed closer, as if happening right before them. They saw a group of Imperial Auxiliary troops clad in lightweight power armor, swiftly moving under the command of officers wearing iron-gray uniforms and peaked caps.
Though labeled as "lightweight," to Halsey and the Spartans, these suits were comparable to the Spartan-II Mjolnir armor in many aspects. However, in the Sacred Selene Empire, the standard for power armor was the Astartes MK series.
For ordinary humans to be equipped with power armor at all—well, in their view, it was considered "light."
In addition to these troops, there were many soldiers wearing varied uniforms, each bearing the golden double-headed eagle emblem of the Empire and the midnight bat-winged skull insignia of the Night Lords. Their outfits and gear varied widely—so wore spiked helts, so sported extravagant tall hats, others had kettle helts, and so bore open-faced helms.
The sight left Halsey and the Spartans baffled.
If they were a formal army, wasn’t uniformity in appearance a basic requirent?
But calling them an irregular militia didn’t seem right either. These soldiers were tall, muscular, and scarred, with hardened expressions. Their tactical movents were highly coordinated, showing no signs of disorder, and their weaponry surpassed even that of the UNSC Marine Corps.
This... Fine. Maybe it was just so unique cultural quirk of their empire.
"Prioritize identifying and securing technical personnel from the UNSC defense forces... uh, I an, protect the scientists and engineers! They’re valuable assets! Minimize violent confrontations and avoid lethal force whenever possible..."
In the holographic footage, an officer of the auxiliary forces shouted orders while his troops moved swiftly through the ranks of surrendered UNSC personnel. They were singling out technical specialists and scientists, but to an outside observer, their actions looked disturbingly similar to rounding people up for execution.
The Reach UNSC defense forces had already surrendered, so there was no opportunity for battlefield executions or personal kill tallies.
After all, this was effectively an internal conflict among humans. From the Empire’s perspective, the humans of this universe were rely returning to the fold. They were not aliens.
Aside from punitive expeditions against particularly uncooperative worlds—or those that had proven themselves more costly to subdue than their value warranted—large-scale, indiscriminate exterminations were rare.
As long as they did not instigate riots or seek death on their own, and without an order from a commanding officer with the proper authority, any lower-ranked soldier in the Imperial Army who dared to kill the innocent for undeserved rit would face severe punishnt.
As for the so-called tradition of overthrowing superiors? Go ahead and try—if you think your life is going well. The Sacred Selene Empire’s absolute monarchy and centralized hierarchy will teach you the proper way to behave.
"Find more scientists and separate them into groups. Your squad will be credited with collective rit as well!"
Since beheadings and killings were now off-limits, they resorted to classifying captives instead. The rewards were just as valid.
"What? You don’t know what a scientist is? Damn it! Were your regints recruited from so savage world?!"
At that mont, one of the soldiers shouted in a thick local accent.
And it turned out to be true.
So of the auxiliary regints were indeed recruited from primitive worlds under the Night Lords’ Legion, and this was their first battle. They were eager and curious about these novel sights.
"The ones in white lab coats, wearing badges that say ’Technical Officer’!"
"Being left here ans you all are valued by Her Majesty."
Suddenly, a teor streaked down from the sky, its overwhelming presence and explosive energy waves forcing everyone’s bodies to bend under its pressure.
"And who might you be?"
The giant before them dwarfed any Astartes warrior Halsey had ever seen. He wore a suit of deep-blue, master-crafted power armor, adorned with golden-bronze rotary decorations on his back. The crimson glow of the bat-winged skull emblem on his armor spoke of his noble status...
"Konrad Curze."
With arms crossed, his pitch-black eyes glead like the specters of midnight. Konrad Curze gazed indifferently at the mortals deliberately left behind by Selene.
Curze... That na. The voice that had ordered the halt of the assault earlier—it had been addressing Curze.
Was he the fleet commander of this empire?
"May I ask if Nathaniel is one of your subordinates?" Halsey carefully chose her words and asked tentatively.
"Nathaniel? Oh, you an that young noble from an Imperial Viscount’s family? He did well on this reconnaissance mission."
In a rare display of amusent, Konrad Curze’s pale face twisted into a smile so unsettling it sent shivers down their spines.
"However, since you have earned Her Majesty’s favor, I don’t care what you were before. Know your place."
"Otherwise..." His eyes narrowed as he placed his fingers on his arm in a single tap—BOOM!
Thud! Thud!
A sudden, crushing force robbed Halsey and the rest of the UNSC personnel of control over their bodies, slamming them onto the ground, suffocating them.
There was no room for resistance.
"I will teach you what cruelty truly ans."
"Sigh, Curze. One must treat guests with proper etiquette."
In the next instant, a butterfly-like, ethereal voice drifted through the void.
An invisible force dissipated the oppressive weight imposed by Konrad Curze, gently pulling them up and even smoothing out the creases on the uniforms of Halsey and the other Spartan technical personnel.
"Your Majesty."
It was only then that Halsey and the others finally beheld the so-called Empress in full view.
Tap. Tap.
As the figure approached, each step left a shimring trail in the void, blooming like lotus petals. The Empress gracefully held a crystal goblet between her fingers, dressed in an exquisitely intricate white-and-gold Gothic-style gown that accentuated her elegant and luxurious form.
Although the pure white fabric covered her from her astonishingly fair collarbones to her feet, the elaborate lace patterns intertwined with the material, outlining an alluring silhouette. The luminous, silky strands of Selene’s hair cascaded down, further highlighting the Empress’ mature and graceful curves.
Her height was not far off from that of the bio-enhanced female Spartan warriors, yet she appeared neither bulky nor disproportionate. Where curves should be, they flourished; where slenderness was needed, it remained. She exuded both elegance and sensuality, all while maintaining an air of dignity. Everything about her was in perfect harmony—an ideal golden ratio.
She was visibly more robust than an average woman, but that made sense. At such a height, being dainty or delicate would have been unnatural and jarring.
Even as a fellow woman, Halsey had to admit—the Empress’ allure was irresistibly captivating.
"Curze, you are a Legion Commander. They are re mortals; they cannot withstand your pressure."
Her voice, articulate and clear, carried an inexplicable charm, a calming force that soothed the mind and stilled the heart.
Kneeling on one knee, Konrad Curze accepted the scrutiny of the Empress.
"Well done. I haven’t even finished dealing with matters in the Large Magellanic Cloud, yet your Night Lords have already reached Reach."
Selene halted beside Konrad Curze, swirling the crystalline liquid in her glass. "That was sowhat beyond my expectations."
"I am ashad to have disrupted Your Majesty’s plans. I request punish—"
"Punish, my ass!"
Selene playfully smacked the head he had bowed before her, laughing in amusent. "You didn’t violate any of my decrees, so why would I punish you? Punish you for achieving too much?"
"If I failed to reward rit and punished the innocent, would you take for a foolish ruler?"
"I—"
"Enough trouble."
Seeing that Curze was still trying to claim fault, Selene grabbed his head and pressed it closer to her. "Alright, enough kneeling. Do you think I brought this wine for nothing?"
The stark contrast in their size left Halsey and the others bewildered. Selene, tall for a human woman, seed childlike next to Konrad Curze’s towering, titan-like fra.
Yet, the reality before them was undeniable—the heavily armored giant warrior stood before the "petite girl" like a scolded child.
"If only you had even a fraction of Lorgar’s enthusiasm or Angron’s liveliness," she sighed, patting the plated armor at his waist.
In that mont, the space around Selene seed to glow with a soft radiance. Those who gazed upon her could not help but be srized, unable to entertain blasphemous thoughts, and even feeling an inexplicable urge to kneel in reverence.
"The greatest rit in Universe 117 currently belongs to you."
Her gentle, motherly reassurance would surely drive a certain 30K-era midnight specter mad with envy.
As Curze’s eyes burned with emotion, Selene tore open the fabric of reality, retrieving a massive jug and a matching oversized drinking vessel befitting an Astartes Legion Commander.
Pouring Curze a full cup of fine wine, she raised her crystal goblet high and declared, "At this rate, your progress far exceeds that of Budo and Angron."
"Consider this an early celebratory drink. Co, drink."
Clink.
It was an amusing sight—a giant warrior, bowing slightly, carefully cradling a tankard the size of a barrel, gently clinking it against the elegantly poised crystal goblet of the woman before him.
With a single gulp, Selene tilted her head slightly and encouraged, "But Budo and Angron won’t just let you take the highest honor unchallenged. Budo should be nearing the High Charity soon."
A sweet reward to acknowledge his recent achievents; a firm push to set his next goal, fueling his motivation.
In the art of commanding loyalty, asserting presence, and performing theatrics, Selene wielded her mastery effortlessly.
Lowering his goblet, Konrad Curze’s expression turned solemn. He dropped to one knee once more, clenching his fist over his heart, his gaze ablaze with determination. "I will comnce the conquest of the Solar System imdiately."
"The highest honor shall be mine!"
"Oh? Then I shall await your success with great anticipation. Go and see to your duties—I won’t take up more of your ti."
"As you command!"
Selene’s authority was never solely reliant on strength or ruthless thods. Her clarity in rewarding rit and punishing failure, combined with her unique personal charm, only enhanced her rule.
Perhaps even Selene herself was unaware—or had never even considered—the extent of her own allure.
Take, for instance, her feminine charm.
Selene had never been one to cultivate an image of seduction, enchantnt, or flamboyant beauty. From childhood to adulthood, she had never acted coyly in front of others, not even before her own family, let alone engaging in coquettish displays.
Instead, she was known for her strength, often resorting to violence when necessary—far from the conventional image of a demure lady. And yet, this very image of Selene, one devoid of artificial allure, made her even more captivating in the eyes of her people.
Scientifically speaking, there was a biological basis for this. When seeking a mate, living beings instinctively gravitate toward those with strong and healthy physiques, as they are more likely to possess greater reproductive fitness, longer lifespans, and the ability to provide better care for offspring.
What Selene projected to the world was the image of a suprely healthy and capable woman. Throughout human evolution, the tendency to select a strong and fit partner had been ingrained. However, in Selene’s case, the disparity in strength and status was so vast that she had long transcended human admiration. To the people, she was no longer rely a woman—she was a goddess. And so, love turned into reverence, and admiration into aspiration.
"You’ve watched long enough. Now, it’s your turn. Do you know why I’ve kept you here?"
Selene turned her gaze toward Halsey and the others.
"Your Majesty..." eting her amused yet inscrutable expression, Halsey took a deep breath and prepared to bow.
"No need."
Without further explanation, Selene extended her hand in a simple gesture. "Co with ."
"Your Majesty, may I ask where we are going?"
"To the Covenant capital—High Charity."
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