The battle report from Planet K-7 was like a depth charge dropped into a calm lake, stirring up massive waves among the military high command of the Terran Dominion.
The report's content was extremely concise, yet incredibly shocking.
Mission squad of five: one killed in action, two severely wounded, one lightly wounded.
Extermination targets: five 'Shadow Claw' infiltrators, all 'purified.'
The one responsible for the targets' deaths was an off-book operative, code-named 'Reinhardt.'
Weapons used: bare hands and a standard-issue short blade.
Attached to the report was a battle recording of less than a minute, captured by Sergeant Gray's helmet recorder.
Colonel Marcus sent this report directly to Sector General Headquarters using the highest encryption level.
He did not attach any personal opinions or speculations.
Because the footage itself had already transcended the scope of what language could describe.
Orders were issued almost immediately.
An 'avenger' class fast frigate belonging to Sector Headquarters arrived at 'Vanguard' base four hours later.
It had only one mission.
To bring 'Reinhardt' to the sector capital planet, 'Iron Wall.'
Reinhardt was brought onto this true military warship.
Unlike the luxury of the 'stardust' or the dilapidation of 'Bison Six,' everything here followed the purest pragmatism. The alloy corridors were polished enough to reflect figures, the air held only the monotonous hum of the circulation system, and every passing soldier stood tall with sharp eyes, silent as iron.
No one showed any curiosity toward him.
They simply executed their orders faithfully.
They brought him to a room, delivered a standard military nutritional meal, and then stood guard outside the door without further communication.
Reinhardt didn't mind.
Through the porthole, he watched the distorted light and shadows of the ship during warp jump.
He knew that his 'ritual' on Planet K-7 had already achieved its intended effect.
He had issued his first proclamation to this world.
Now, he was going to meet those in this world qualified to hear his full teachings.
Planet 'Iron Wall.'
The capital of the Terran Dominion's Orion Arm defense zone.
This was a planet with no oceans and no large vegetation. Ninety percent of its surface was covered by massive urban clusters and military fortresses. Giant grey buildings rose like a forest of steel, piercing the clouds. The sky was forever leaden-grey, partitioned by the trails of countless patrolling fighters and anti-aircraft batteries.
This was the strongest shield of the entire Terran Dominion.
It was also a warhammer poised to strike.
The ship landed at the Central Command spaceport.
Under the 'escort' of a squad of fully armed military police, Reinhardt walked into this massive building that rivaled a mountain range.
He was taken to a conference room on the highest floor.
The heavy alloy doors slid open silently.
Inside was a vast circular room. In the center stood a ring-shaped conference table forged from an unknown black metal. Floating in the middle of the table was a slowly rotating 3D holographic star map, marked with countless red and blue light points representing enemy and friendly forces.
Sitting around the table were over a dozen officers in black general uniforms.
On their shoulders, general stars representing power and honor shined brightly.
When Reinhardt walked in, everyone's gaze focused on him.
Scrutiny, curiosity, suspicion, and a trace of hard-to-detect vigilance.
Reinhardt's gaze fell directly on the head seat.
A man sat there.
He looked to be over sixty, his hair already grey, but his back was straight as a rod. His face was covered in the furrows of time and several hideous old scars, with one eye replaced by a shimmering red electronic prosthetic.
On his shoulders was the rank of General.
He was the Commander-in-Chief of the Terran Dominion's Orion Defense Zone, General Armitage.
A legendary figure who had dedicated his entire life to the war against xenos.
"Sit."
General Armitage's voice was raspy, yet carried an unquestionable authority.
Reinhardt sat in the empty seat opposite him.
"Reinhardt," General Armitage uttered the name. "A report from 'Vanguard' base, and a very interesting video. It has made us very interested in you."
His electronic eye flickered, seemingly re-analyzing the man before him who was dressed in rags yet possessed a steady presence.
"The report says you come from a lost colony. You hijacked an UEG ship to get here."
"Now, I want to hear it from you."
"Who are you? And where did that strength of yours come from?"
Reinhardt's expression didn't change at all.
"I am no one."
"I am merely a messenger, one who brings the revelation of humanity's true destiny to you."
"As for my strength," he paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, "it does not belong to me alone. It is the forgotten potential and birthright of our entire race. With pure enough conviction, anyone can awaken it."
A suppressed murmur rippled through the conference room.
A young Major General couldn't help but scoff.
"Conviction? You're saying one can tear apart a Shadow Claw just by praying?"
Reinhardt didn't look at him.
His gaze remained fixed on Armitage.
"Conviction, General. Conviction in the absolute, unquestionable superiority of the human species. Conviction in our manifest destiny to dominate this galaxy. Conviction in the sacred duty that all xenos must be purified."
His voice was calm, but every word was like a bullet fired into the minds of everyone present.
General Armitage raised his hand, silencing the commotion from the other officers.
His human eye stared intently at Reinhardt.
"Destiny? Dominance?" He slowly repeated the two words, his tone filled with cold realism. "Young man, you know nothing of war."
He stood up and walked to the central holographic star map.
He reached out and pointed to the blue light points representing the Dominion's territory.
That patch of blue was so tiny on the star map.
And surrounding it were vast swaths of red, green, purple... representing different xeno civilizations.
"Do you see this?" The General's voice grew heavy. "We are an island in the ocean. Surrounding us are endless monsters wanting to consume us."
"The Krill Swarm, their numbers exceed the stars in the sky. The Ji'sap Imperium, their warships can easily melt a planet. And there are hundreds of large and small raiders and pirates, like sharks smelling blood, tearing at our borders at every moment."
"For three hundred years, we have bled every day. It took the bones of three generations to forge this fragile defense line today. Every soldier, every ship, and every bullet of ours is incredibly precious."
He turned around, his sharp gaze piercing Reinhardt.
"Our goal isn't some ethereal 'dominance.' It is survival!"
"It is holding our borders, protecting our compatriots, and living as long as possible before we exhaust our last bit of strength."
"We reject the xenos, but we must consider reality even more. Limited counterattacks, consolidating defense lines, and avoiding expanding the war to a scale we cannot endure. This is the national policy of the Terran Dominion—the only choice based on blood and reality."
The General's words plunged the entire conference room into a heavy silence.
This was the truth that every soldier in the Dominion believed in.
It wasn't that they didn't want to win.
It was that they couldn't afford to lose.
Everyone looked at Reinhardt, wanting to see what this madman could possibly say in the face of such cruel reality.
Reinhardt slowly stood up.
On his face, there was no wavering from being convinced; instead, a trace of pity appeared.
"General, the survival you speak of is merely a slow suicide."
His voice wasn't loud, but it spread clearly throughout the room.
"Your defense line is not a shield, but a cage. You built a prison with your own hands and then told yourselves it's safe inside."
He walked to the star map and reached out, pointing at the red light points surrounding the Dominion's territory.
"Do you think that as long as you don't take the initiative to attack, they will be satisfied with the status quo?"
"No. As long as they still exist, they will constantly probe, constantly attack. They will become stronger and stronger, while you will slowly be consumed to nothing in an endless war of defense."
"Because you are wrong at the very root."
Reinhardt's voice began to take on a sacred, unquestionable authority.
"Humanity is the sole, legitimate heir to this universe.
Our destiny is not to linger on in a tiny corner. It is to plant our banners in every corner of the galaxy.
Any xeno that stands before us, whether they are hideous monsters or seemingly civilized races, has only one end.
To be thoroughly purified."
"This is not a choice, but a duty. A sacred mission etched into the depths of our souls!"
"The war you speak of is a struggle for survival. But the war I speak of is a Great Crusade to reclaim everything that is our birthright!"
His words were like a bolt of lightning, splitting the fog in everyone's hearts.
Survival? Or dominance?
Defensive retreat? Or Crusade?
The generals present felt an unprecedented shock.
They had fought all their lives, but no one had ever defined this war from such a perspective.
It was too crazy.
But...
It was also filled with a certain irresistible, primal, and fanatical attraction.
It was like a fire, igniting the human pride and ambition deep within them that had long been suppressed by cruel reality.
"Enough."
General Armitage's low voice interrupted Reinhardt's sermon.
He returned to his seat, rubbing his temples with his hand. His electronic eye was flickering at high speed; clearly, his internal turmoil was far from as calm as his surface suggested.
"Your rhetoric borders on fanaticism," he said to Reinhardt, word by word, "but the power you've shown is real."
He was silent for a long time.
Only the General's heavy breathing could be heard in the entire conference room.
Everyone present was waiting for his decision.
They knew that this meeting today would decide the fate of this mysterious 'purifier.'
And perhaps, it would decide the fate of the entire Terran Dominion.
Finally, General Armitage spoke again.
"Your ideas are dangerous. I won't, and cannot, adopt them immediately."
"But..."
He looked up, and in his human eye shined a complex light. There was decisiveness, scrutiny, and a trace of an ignited flame that even he hadn't noticed.
"You say conviction brings power."
"You say our destiny is a Crusade."
"Very well."
"I will give you an opportunity—an opportunity to prove the 'manifest destiny' you speak of."
"An opportunity for you, and for all of us, to see clearly whether your path leads to glory or to destruction."