Lower Hive District, Hader-14 Residential Area.
A cramped bedroom. Soft "sunlight" shone in through a naked tal-barred window—though not real sunlight but rather a chanical "sun lamp."
These sun lamps switched to bright mode at dawn to illuminate portions of the underhive where natural sunlight could never reach. However, for energy saving, those lamps were usually kept dim to the point of near darkness. But today, that light was so bright people thought it was real sun.
That beam cut across the bed, and the dazzling glare jolted the middle-aged woman awake. Her na was Isila, an ordinary worker in the hive's D155 synthetic-food factory. She glanced at the chanical clock in the room, eyes going wide in alarm.
7:30 already!
No way she could catch the train to the factory now...
Terror seized her. Why hadn't the community loudspeaker sounded? Or did she sleep through it?
For any laborer, arriving at the factory on ti was a matter of survival. Being late ant losing a large chunk of your weekly food quota. Working hungry, you'd produce less, leading to more docked rations—a vicious cycle.
Worse still, under the tyrannical laws, a worker who was late or slacked off twice got put on a list submitted to the enforcers. On Execution Day, nas on that list could be randomly selected for public execution...
Isila recalled she had once been late three years ago—this would be the second ti. Now her na would join the execution list!
A crushing despair overca her. She had children to feed. If she died, there'd be no way for them to survive...
What to do?
In her panic, Isila spotted a tattered, yellowed book beside her bed. Its pages were fragile from countless readings, but lovingly preserved. The cover was plain black, bearing no symbols—but every local laborer knew it as the Redemption Codex.
Isila blinked. "Why's the Codex out here?"
Normally, she kept it hidden away; the enforcers catching you with it used to an disaster. But seeing it, she felt a wave of relief. Then she rembered: there was no more need to hide it.
"That's right, how silly of . The Codex no longer needs hiding..."
She sat up, running her rough, scarred fingers over the book's cover, murmuring her thanks to the great Savior. Once her prayer was done, Isila's panic subsided.
She was safe now, for the Savior would protect her. Her earlier fright was just a shadow of the old days. The light had co; the tyrant was dead. The dreaded "execution list" was gone. At last, the terror was over.
What's more, she wasn't even required to work today—a real day off, unimaginable before.
Isila carefully climbed from the crowded bed, tiptoeing around. She pulled out a packet of synthetic food from storage and poured it into a simple heater. This bounty ca from yesterday's distribution—free food equaling several days' worth of her usual ration, enough to feed her and her children.
The Savior is so generous...
She was stirring the pot when her little boy, roused by the sll, woke with shining eyes, peering hungrily at the cooking pot. Soon after, Isila poured the cooked mush into tal bowls, setting them on their tiny table. The boy was already seated, staring and swallowing hard. He was obviously ravenous yet stayed perfectly still, knowing there was one important ritual before they could eat.
Indeed, mother and child prayed in unison, expressing gratitude to the Savior for this al. Once done, the child eagerly grabbed a spoon.
Suddenly—BOOM!
The loud explosion startled him so badly he clamped both hands over his mouth, trembling. Isila rushed over, hugging him protectively, terror in her eyes. The people here had learned to fear unexpected blasts—such sounds ant a slaughter could follow.
Eight years ago, Isila's husband died in a crackdown by the tyrant's mad warriors. It was a brutal mass killing, though fortunately Saint Fran had intervened, slaying several mad warriors and saving many—including the pregnant Isila. She and her unborn child survived.
Now, more explosions echoed, and the boy trembled harder. Isila froze montarily, then relaxed, gently stroking her son's head:
"Those are ceremonial salvos, sweetheart. We're safe. It's all right..."
She recalled that the community officials had announced it yesterday—telling everyone not to panic when fireworks went off today.
With that, mother and child returned to their al, relishing this precious food. Outside, noise swelled, and sacred chanting drifted in. After they finished, Isila dressed her son in a clean, if worn, coat a size too big. The boy looked uneasy:
"We're...going outside?"
He was clearly afraid. The entire environnt had taught children that going outside was dangerous. When the tyrant disbanded the schools, the hive's children had nowhere to go. Adults often locked them at ho for fear they'd get caught up in riots or stepped on by rampaging mobs. Isila's boy never ventured out without her—he was well-trained to stay in.
But now his mother was telling him they could go out.
"Those days are over. The Savior protects us, and it's no longer dangerous."
Isila knelt to adjust the coat's collar. "Rember I told you yesterday we'd be going to the community plaza to pray to the Savior..." She explained while straightening his clothes. "Soon, you'll be going outside regularly. I heard from the local officers that our Savior is going to build schools for us. Gifted children might even be admitted to the holy academy in the Sacred Land!"
The child's eyes lit up. "Sacred Land? We can really go there?"
He'd heard about the "Sacred Land" from the Codex—portrayed as a paradise-like place blessed with ample sunshine, fresh air, and boundless supplies. Abundant resources, far surpassing even the upper hive where the old emperor once lived.
Only those recognized by the Savior could step foot there, to enjoy that tranquil harmony. In truth, it was just EUS's upper spire.
Over the years, they'd expanded and refined it a lot. Though maybe not as unbelievably splendid as the legends suggested, it was close enough—and with the entire sector's resources soon to flow in, it would beco even grander.
Isila smiled, equally full of longing. In her case, there was likely no chance for her to see that paradise. But maybe her child could. Gazing at him fondly, she said,
"Yes, that's what the officer said. The Codex says so as well. If you work hard enough, maybe you'll get to go!"
She hung a Savior's cross-pendant around her son's neck—she wore a matching one herself. Preparations complete, mother and child stepped out.
After a long corridor and a creaking elevator, they erged from the community building, ho to hundreds of thousands of people.
The mont Isila set foot on the street, her world opened wide and she was hit by the bustling energy of a crowd. The chatter and the echoes of sacred songs rged into a joyous roar.
The street was decked with colorful banners and posters of the Savior, giving it a festival-like atmosphere. People were everywhere, their once-fearful faces replaced with smiles. Oppression and gloom seed a mory. Isila stood in wonder, tears gathering in her eyes.
Is this the world the Savior promised?
She found it so bright—things once swallowed in darkness were now visible. She gazed upward at multiple hive levels overhead, all teeming with people.
This was the first ti she could see so clearly her own surroundings—before it had always been pitch black. Indeed, above and below her lay hundreds of hive layers, housing tens of billions of residents. But the managent had turned up the sun lamps for the festivities, ensuring abundant light.
At the tolling of a holy bell, Isila took her son's hand and walked toward the central plaza, where they would offer their prayers and witness a sacred mont.
In the year 025.M42, on September 15—today—history was being made.
The great and rciful Savior had descended from the heavens, freeing the people of Matila from the tyrant's grip.
Now he would formally receive the planet's oath of fealty. Even centuries later, grizzled veterans would still recall the grand spectacle of this day—how the Great Savior looked, and the joyous faces of the people. They called it "Matila's Reclamation Day."
According to the Redemption Codex, every ti the Savior liberates a world, he establishes a "Reclamation Day" to mark the dawn of freedom, peace, and happiness.
His radiance drives away suffering. From that day forward, and on every anniversary, the planet's people would hold a festival, free from work, provided with free food, celebrating their rebirth under the Savior's banner.
All they had to do was present their gratitude and loyalty to this great and rciful one.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
9,999 salvos roared simultaneously. Dozens of fighter wings streaked overhead, showering confetti onto the teeming throngs below.
The Throne Plaza was awash with fluttering banners, enormous airships overhead displaying hundred-ter-tall images of the Savior.
At the plaza's center rose a stage tens of ters high, ringed by wave after wave of spectators. At the foremost ring stood Bayev, Carter, Kaul, Arye, Case, Duke, Puru, and other key leaders.
Beyond them stood the Void Angels, War Angels, the Battle Sisters, along with the Navy, the Storm Corps officers, and so on.
Next were the surviving Matila nobles—most of whom had secretly embraced faith in the Savior.
They'd aided the resistance, so they still had a place in the new power structure. They could only adapt, submitting fully to the Savior's arrangents. Alongside them were Brown and other rebel leaders from across the planet, all gathered here.
Atop the platform, Bishop Doni guided the assembly through prayers to the Golden Sun and to the Savior, broadcast live to every corner of the planet. After the ritual, the crowd fell silent, awaiting the Savior's appearance.
Below the platform, Eden finished his final preparations. He wasn't wearing his golden power armor today but a lavish, dark-gold ceremonial robe. A big mont like this demanded sothing more formal.
Soon he would proclaim Matila's return and formally assu the title of Sector Governor. Yes, it was all a bit rushed, but unavoidable. Eden had so many reforms to implent, incorporating Matila into his own structure, and needed the lawful power of the governorship to streamline everything. It also extended his reach throughout the sector.
"Savior, the people are waiting..."
Head Maid Linda approached softly, reminding him.
Eden nodded slightly, stepping onto the rising elevator. Slowly it lifted him to the top of the stage. He'd done this sort of ceremony before and was quite used to it now.
There would be many more such grand events in the future. Gazing out over a sea of countless people, Eden took a mont to steady himself.
A deep hum arose as elaborate machinery beneath the stage powered up. Beam after beam of light shot skyward, rging into a colossal, thousand-ter-tall holographic image of the Savior. It was so huge, it seed like a miracle, visible even from dozens of kiloters away. It lood over the plaza with majestic grandeur, awe-inspiring.
In that mont of breathless silence, the giant hologram's voice, laden with authority, rang out:
"Your suffering is over. Rejoice, people of Matila..."
For a heartbeat, all was still.
Then the crowd erupted in exultation, shouting the Savior's na and pouring forth boundless fervor. The enormous holographic Savior swept its gaze across the throng, intensifying their cheers.
Simultaneously, identical footage aired across every viewing device on the planet. The entire world roared in jubilation.
Standing on the platform, Eden felt the crowd's passion reverberate from every side. Billions cried out in gratitude and loyalty, their collective emotion a mighty psychic force converging from every corner of the planet, forming a vast spiritual resonance. Deep within, Eden sensed the little sun expanding, soaking up wave after wave of new energy.
He was about to receive the greatest influx of hope-power he had ever known.
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My Patreon For 20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][/zaelum]
[ 500 Power Stones = 1 Extra Chapter]
[Thank You For Your Support!]
User Comments
0 comments from readers