On the other side of the warp gate—
Thud. Thud.
Heavy footsteps echoed across this alien world.
With the final warrior stepping through the "mercury mirror" of the gate, one hundred Custodian Guards and one thousand reconnaissance troops had completed their deployment on this unfamiliar land.
The muffled sound of magnetic boots pressing into the dry, sandy terrain was especially distinct in the silence.
Constantine Valdor stood at the front of the formation, his personalized Custodian Commander armor glowing dark gold under the alien sun.
Surveying the surroundings, his helmet display continuously refreshed environmental data.
Though technician reports had confirmed everything as normal, the commander maintained the highest alert level.
"Standard reconnaissance formation. Deploy."
His deep voice echoed through the secured comms channel.
The Custodians immediately dispersed into a flawless tactical array, their black-and-gold power armor moving swiftly.
Meanwhile, the human recon troops began establishing a temporary perimeter. Their recon-enhanced power armor assisted the tech teams in collecting environmental samples.
Tiny particles of dust floated in the air, appearing like slow-falling snowflakes through enhanced visor displays.
Constantine noted the sand had an unnatural iron-gray hue, and the tactile feedback underfoot was harder than expected.
He knelt on one knee, pinching a small sample of sand between his fingers. The built-in analyzer within his helmet activated immediately.
Still, no anomalies.
He gave another reminder: "Remain alert. Await further orders."
Given that the warp gate had remained closed for over a decade, the Custodians and Salamanders were tasked with this initial scouting and integration mission.
After all, these elite warriors had been "idle" for too long—actual combat was necessary to re-hone their edge, and to earn glory and merit.
With Custodians and recon troops securing the gate and the gate's inherent barrier effect, the Engineering Corps' transport convoys began crossing through and initiating forward base construction.
Simultaneously, a Salamanders company stood ready. Once the forward base neared completion, the company would begin large-scale deployment, and fleet elements would ascend to the planet's low orbit.
Inside the defensive perimeter built by the Custodians and recon units, the Engineering Corps' convoys surged through the gate like a mechanical flood.
The first to arrive were twelve "Knight-Class Construction Platforms."
These thirty-meter-tall machines, manufactured on "Earth-06" (Pacific Rim), deployed six hydraulic legs upon crossing the gate. Their flat underbelly armor slid open to reveal densely packed nests of engineering drones.
Following the actions of techs and pilots, tens of thousands of Hex-bots swarmed outward like a hive.
It was clear the Empire had already civilianized Titan- and Knight-class mecha.
Construction scenes were jaw-droppingly efficient.
Pre-fabricated alloy foundation modules were precisely dropped onto measured coordinates. Automated riveting arms rapidly fastened structural components.
The most eye-catching element was the central command base construction—
Several sector-shaped prefabs connected mid-air, nano-welding beams dancing along the seams. In just twenty-seven minutes, a three-story spherical command center rose in the middle of the desert.
Its adaptive armored plating was actively adjusting porosity to match local climate conditions and resist potential harsh environments.
Three kilometers from the base, hundreds of Hellhounds radiated outward for scouting.
Their steel paws left deep impressions in the sand, and the multi-spectrum scanners on their backs rotated ceaselessly, relaying terrain data back to command in real-time.
Farther out, various Terminator-class combat units had established a triple-layer security perimeter. Their heavy forms cast long shadows on the dunes, and their plasma rifles remained hot and active.
With the framework in place, more delicate construction soon began.
In the energy zone, eight micro-fusion reactors had been assembled, their blue plasma spinning gently within containment fields.
Defensive systems were deployed with equal speed.
From transport state to combat-ready, auto-turrets required only 90 seconds. Surrounding the base, hardlight fences formed a closed loop of 20 kilometers within three hours.
Soon, the daylight began to dim on this side of the gate.
The desert had completely changed.
Engineering lights lit a three-kilometer radius like daytime. The hum of construction machinery filled the air.
Modular barracks rose like bamboo shoots after a rain. Roads extended visibly with every passing second.
At the perimeter, hunter drones had formed a 50-kilometer reconnaissance net. The expanding green zone on the holographic map represented steadily growing safety.
As the final armor plate was installed, the command center's rooftop hoisted the Imperial dragon-emblem.
This outpost, erected on an alien world, became the Empire's first solid foothold into a new universe.
At the central plaza of the nascent base, Salamanders of the Third Company were arriving in sequence.
Dark green power armor shimmered under the lights. The fire-drake emblem on their chests gently rose and fell with each breath.
Their captain, nameplate engraved "Gaozan," was inspecting the unit. His power fist glowed with dark red energy patterns.
"Full company, follow deployment protocol!"
At Gaozan's command, over a hundred Salamanders split into tactical squads.
Many shouldered plasma cannons toward defensive nodes, while the squads began patrols around the base.
Behind them, thousands of auxiliary troops marched through the warp gate in formation.
Most striking were the Third Company's heavy armor units. As these steel behemoths rolled through the gate, the ground trembled beneath them.
Full deployment of the Third Company's fleet was expected to take six standard hours.
During this time, the Custodians, recon units, and Salamanders were tasked with securing the gate and ensuring the Engineering Corps could focus entirely on post-phase construction.
In the Prime Universe's Imperial Meditation Hall—
Step. Step.
Measured footsteps echoed.
Samuel Young walked slowly toward the Golden Throne, his black robe whispering against the stone steps.
The hall's dim light cast varied shadows across his sharp features. Only his soft golden eyes stood out, glowing gently.
The preliminary report from the gate's far side was promising—
Atmosphere stable, proportions nearly perfect. Surface temperature hovered around 30°C. Radiation levels were 0.3 units below alert threshold. Construction progress had reached 87%, slightly ahead of schedule.
No hostile forces encountered. Environment stable. Construction stable.
As Samuel took his seat again, ten million data streams surged into his mind.
The sand's composition, atmospheric refraction, and even the star's spectrum subtly triggered long-buried memories from before his crossing.
But centuries of memory were far too vast.
Forty trillion citizens' thoughts, data from seventeen universes, unending war and construction—all entwined within the mind of this immortal.
He tried to seize that fleeting familiarity, but it slipped through his fingers like sand.
He couldn't quite remember whether this world was from a game, film, or experience he once knew.
"App," Samuel spoke into the silent hall. "Remind Constantine to maintain maximum alert."
"Affirmative, Your Majesty."
As App's voice faded, the Meditation Hall fell silent again.
Samuel leaned slightly forward. The golden light in his eyes flickered like candlelight.
Though the data from beyond the gate was flawless, the Emperor's instincts still sent a warning—this calm was too perfect.
He stared at the constantly updating parameters in the holographic projection. His finger tapped the throne's armrest in rhythm with the data refresh intervals.
With orbital drones now fully scanning the area beyond the gate, it wouldn't be long before he had enough intelligence to deduce the identity of this new universe.
His gaze pierced layers of information, as if he could already see that alien cosmos.
And with twenty million Astartes, the combined resources of eighteen universes, and forty trillion loyal citizens—
These numbers formed an unbreakable fortress in his mind.
No matter what secrets that world held, it would not stand against the Empire's absolute power.
It was time for the Investigation Department to begin full-scale operations.
Night had fallen.
The sky over Neo-Akra City was lit by millions of lights, the entire metropolis sparkling like a gemstone in a starry river.
The exteriors of towering skyscrapers flowed with dynamic light patterns—sometimes shifting softly like auroras, other times flashing like data streams.
Airborne lanes teemed with zeppelin traffic, trails of light streaking upward like reverse-falling stars.
Today marked Labor Day of Imperial Year 0050, and the city basked in a festive mood.
Crowds flooded the streets. Residents from various universes and races enjoyed rare leisure.
Twi'lek merchants sold spiced meats at night market stalls. Sangheili families strolled by the plaza's fountain, while children laughed and chased holographic fireworks.
The air brimmed with the scent of food, laughter, and cheerful music—a never-ending celebration.
In the youth entertainment zone, a massive holographic sign blinked "Stars of the Empire's Future."
This area catered to young citizens, offering half-price discounts with student IDs.
The spacious, well-lit interior held rows of immersive VR pods. Teens in neural-link helmets or tactile feedback suits explored, competed, and learned in virtual worlds.
Some cooperated in simulated starship cockpits; others relived the Empire's rise through historical simulators.
In one corner, dozens of children surrounded claw machines—
Imperial machines weren't "rigged." With proper technique, everyone could walk away with a desired plush toy.
In the adult entertainment zone, neon signs of bars and clubs glowed vividly.
Entrance points had strict age-verification systems; underage teens were politely stopped by security.
Inside, music and holographic lights mingled. Bartenders mixed colorful drinks, and people danced the night away.
Meanwhile—
Inside the bedroom of a luxury apartment, minimalist decor exuded a cold modernity.
Gray-white walls displayed abstract art. The polished wooden floor gleamed—though now scattered with disheveled clothing:
Shirts, dresses, even a few provocative undergarments—completely at odds with the room's style.
From beneath the large bed's covers came steady, peaceful breathing.
BEEP BEEP—BEEP BEEP—!
A shrill alarm shattered the quiet.
A pale arm reached out from under the covers, graceful fingers fumbling for the source before nudging the man beside her.
"Get up… Hurry…"
The woman's voice was heavy with sleep, barely coherent.
The man groaned, then slowly sat up. His messy golden hair stuck out at odd angles—clearly still waking.
He rubbed his eyes and brushed his bangs aside. The room's smart system activated a soft bedside lamp, casting a warm glow on his handsome face—
Leon S. Kennedy.
A legendary agent of the Investigation Department, now blinking blearily at the alarm like a regular guy.
He squinted into the light, threw off the blanket, and stepped barefoot onto the floor, grabbing a robe.
The woman in bed rolled over. Her black hair spilled across the pillow, revealing a beautiful, cold face—
Ada Wong, his superior and lover, half-buried in the pillow, already drifting back to sleep.
Leon scratched his head, walked into the living room, and said:
"Answer the call."
A moment later, a holographic projection materialized—Chris Redfield's face, slightly puffier from overtraining, appeared.
He looked serious. Background noise suggested a busy ops room.
"Leon, sorry to cut your vacation short," Chris said crisply. "The Department's launching a major op. You're being recalled."
Leon frowned. His half-asleep mind switched to work mode.
"What's the situation?" he asked, voice husky from sleep.
"Anomalous data from Warp Gate Eighteen," Chris said gravely. "The Emperor himself ordered elite agents involved."
Leon paused, then sighed and glanced toward the bedroom.
"Give me thirty minutes," he said.
"Alright. I'll send over the files."
Chris nodded, and the transmission ended.
Leon stood still, rubbing his temples.
So much for this Labor Day vacation.
Simultaneously, the intel Chris had promised began appearing on the holographic screen.
(End of Chapter)
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