As the Federation's chief combat officer, Klevut's position carried enormous influence. It was nowhere near as weak as outsiders might imagine.
The Seventh Special Zone was a unique facility created by their own government, specifically for the purpose of containing and researching Megatron and the AllSpark—or, as many called it, the "Cosmic Cube."
Every piece of cutting-edge human technology developed in recent years had originated from this zone. The uncomfortable truth was that humanity's own technological "tree" had been grafted from alien knowledge. In other words, they were building from someone else's foundation.
And no matter how hard you try, a toddler learning to walk will not surpass the master who taught them.
Inside a heavily armored command tank, Sam spoke firmly to Klevut.
"Recruiting believers is your responsibility. Start with your most trusted men. Work within a day to take full control of the army's chain of command."
"Yes, Lord Master," Klevut replied at once.
"As for the Seventh Special Zone, we'll go there together tomorrow."
"Yes."
Klevut was completely obedient now. The reason was simple—Sam could communicate directly with God. That alone put him far beyond mortal reach.
And there was more. Klevut himself had tasted the miracle: his severe nearsightedness had been completely cured after practicing the Eternal Meditation. His vision had not only returned—it had sharpened to the point where he could clearly see details up to ten kilometers away.
This was divine might.
If a mere mortal could gain such power… how could they possibly refuse?
That Night
An emergency meeting was held in the military theater. Any officers who refused to obey Klevut's orders were swiftly eliminated. The rest—those who chose to submit—were taught the method of Eternal Meditation and initiated into the faith.
This was the reality of the country: the one with the biggest fist was the one in charge.
Even without Sam's influence, if Klevut had acquired enough power, he would have seized control eventually. The only difference now was that he intended not just to take command, but to become the designated spokesperson of God in his region.
From Sam, he had learned that God required multiple envoys—regional agents—across the world, in addition to Sam as the chief priest. If Klevut surrendered now, pledged loyalty, and proved himself valuable, he could become the ruler of this nation in God's name.
Where else could he find such a perfect opportunity?
By the thousands, soldiers and officers meditated under the darkened sky. At first they were skeptical, but the deeper they sank into the meditative state, the clearer they saw it: the tallest, most awe-inspiring figure imaginable looming in their inner vision.
They now understood why their commander had been so insistent that they learn this divine technique.
By five in the morning, startled cries began echoing from the training grounds. A new generation of believers had been born.
But not everyone was eager to serve under Klevut. Those long oppressed by him now found themselves holding new strength, and their first thought was rebellion.
Several soldiers suddenly charged forward, weapons in hand.
CRACK!
A blinding bolt of thunder split the air. The four rebellious soldiers collapsed to their knees as if struck by an invisible hammer, their bodies writhing in agony.
Sam's expression turned to ice.
"Basking in the grace of God, yet daring such insolence—you truly do not deserve to live!"
He began chanting softly, speaking the name of the Eternal God.
From the void, a shadow emerged.
"Where is the blasphemer?"
The shadowy figure gripped a massive black scythe, its hollow eyes locking onto Sam.
"Where?"
It tilted its head as if listening, then its voice rolled like distant thunder.
"I can feel the filth in their souls. Lower than pigs and dogs! Your spirits will serve as slaves in the Ghost Sea for a thousand years!"
With a single sweep, the scythe tore open the very fabric of reality.
A river appeared—an endless, nightmarish current filled with the aura of death.
The effect was immediate.
Every flower in the courtyard withered instantly. Outside, the trees shriveled into skeletal husks.
The true law of death was a sight none present would ever forget.
The Ghost Sea—a realm of the dead. Countless tortured souls labored endlessly within its black waters, wailing in unending pain.
Sam's forehead was damp with sweat.
This creature wasn't his servant. He had merely invoked a summoning technique, one that Eternal Meditation occasionally granted its practitioners. It was said to punish all who betrayed God's faith.
Until now, Sam had never truly grasped the Eternal Executor's terrifying nature.
"Forgive me, Enforcer," Sam asked cautiously, "but why are there so many souls here?"
The shadow turned its faceless head, as though pondering the question.
Finally, in a voice heavy with ancient weariness, it replied:
"I remember… these are the enemies of God. All who do not believe will come here after death—to suffer for a thousand years."
A collective shiver rippled through the crowd.
Was this some hidden law of the universe? Those who rejected God's faith would be condemned to the Ghost Sea without reprieve.
Sam said nothing, lips pressed together.
Kemira, standing beside him, felt nothing but relief that she had joined the faith early. The fate she'd just glimpsed was far worse than annihilation.
Others turned pale as chalk. Several officers silently resolved to bring their families into the church immediately after their shift ended.
No one wanted to spend eternity in that nightmare realm.
Klevut cleared his throat.
"Lord Enforcer, if we are believers… where will our souls go when we die?"
"That is not my responsibility," the Executor said curtly. "The Soul-Ferrying Messenger will decide your fate. Now, I return."
And just like that, the Eternal Executor vanished.
Everyone exhaled in unison.
"God… that was horrifying. My mother always told me to believe in God. Guess all those who didn't are burning in hell right now. F—"
"Watch your mouth. We're all good believers here."
"Right… yes… yes."
Sam caught Klevut's eye and gave him a meaningful look. The man nodded subtly.
"Alright," Klevut called to the shaken crowd, "enough chatter. We have work to do. Whether the Federation achieves lasting peace depends on your efforts.
Remember—our planet faces a crisis. Aliens are watching us."
The speech calmed the group, solidifying their belief. The priests had been right: in this time of danger, Earth was relying on them.
As for alien invaders?
Ha. Before God, they were nothing but insects.
Seventh Special Zone
Deep underground, countless technicians labored over the frozen form of Megatron.
The extreme cold was the only thing that could suppress the massive energy within him. Without it, his raw physical power alone could tear through any defense.
"How's the situation?" one supervisor asked.
"More robots outside. They're scanning for our location."
"What about the Federal Army? Why haven't they stopped them?"
"I don't know. The previous chief combat officer suffered a stroke. The new one… isn't in our faction."
"Then what are we supposed to do? If those alien machines find us, we're finished."
"Request reinforcements. We can't let decades of research go to waste."
In the conference room, the air was heavy with tension. These people held the Federation's deepest secrets—knowledge far beyond the average citizen's awareness.
For example, they had been the ones in control of Megatron and the AllSpark all these years.
In the middle of their debate, the base's lights went out.
"What happened?"
"Enemy attack—north side!"
"Damn it!"
"Switch to backup! Keep the power flowing to the big guy!"
"The lines are cut!"
The bad news poured in one after another.
They had underestimated alien reconnaissance. The technology they took such pride in was child's play for the enemy to read and exploit.
Outside, mechanical cheetahs launched relentless assaults. The skies were filled with bombers, but the saboteurs had already completed their mission.
Inside the base, a small Decepticon danced gleefully before the thawing Megatron.
"The Decepticons will rule the universe! Wake, Lord Megatron!"
CLANG! CLANG!
One by one, the freezing systems failed. Machinery exploded in showers of sparks.
In moments, Megatron's optics flared to life.
Without Sam present, Bumblebee had never secured the AllSpark. Now Megatron was fully revived.
His voice rumbled like an earthquake:
"Where… is the Cube?"
"Beneath the base, Lord Megatron!"
The smaller Decepticon pointed the way.
With a single blast, Megatron ripped apart the base's foundation. His gaze fixed on the Cosmic Cube, narrowing with satisfaction.
After countless years, it was finally within his grasp.
His claws reached forward, winds screaming around him as the Cube's energy spiked.
BOOM!
A massive explosion slammed into him, hurling his body backward. It wasn't heat—it was raw force.
"What—?"
He looked up.
More than a dozen humans floated in the air above him, their eyes cold.
Humans? Standing in midair? Impossible…
"You alien scum," Sam's voice thundered. "After slaughtering so many, you deserve death a hundred times over!"
Sam transformed into a streak of lightning, hurtling toward Megatron. His fist, wreathed in electric-blue light, smashed into Megatron's right arm, punching straight through the armor.
The Decepticon roared in pain and fury, raising his ion cannon to blast Sam into oblivion.
"Die, insect!"
BOOM!
The shot obliterated the mountain dam, sending a flood of shattered rock tumbling down. But when the dust cleared, Sam wasn't gone—he was at Megatron's feet, sword of lightning in hand.
Another strike.
The force shook Megatron to his core. If this continued, he realized grimly, he would be destroyed.
Several desperate ion blasts bought him a narrow opening. Without hesitation, he took to the sky.
Even with the Cube so close, he dared not linger.
Starscream and several other Decepticons, who had been watching from hiding, joined his retreat.
Sam had gained tremendous power, but his battle experience could not yet match Megatron's. By the time he burst from the smoke, the Decepticon leader was already a distant silhouette.
The other human fighters only arrived in time to see his escape.
"Damn it… he got away!"
Sam's fist slammed into a nearby hillside, reducing the entire peak to rubble. His face was dark with frustration.