The orac slowly pulled into orbit.
In the distance, several merchant ships fled in terror, their engines pushed to the maximum, carrying back the meager supplies that were supposed to be delivered to Alert Star.
Hangar deck.
Several transport planes were warming up. Watching the merchant ships fleeing into the void outside the deck, Bayer licked his lips with some regret.
Bruno, squinting with his bionic eye, asked in confusion:
"Why are they running?"
Van Roth continued to direct the personnel into the transports, while Ana would remain aboard the orac.
Thus, it was Sith, walking over with a stack of reports on Alert Star, who answered Bruno:
"How would they know if we're friend or foe?"
As Sith spoke, the surrounding crowd—who had shown no reaction to Bruno—instantly stood up straight amidst the crisp "snap" of soldiers snapping to attention.
Even Bayer reined in his sickly demeanor, trying to look as normal as possible.
"My Lord!"
The crowd bowed respectfully. Sith waved his hand dismissively while walking briskly toward his transport:
"Let's go. Alert Star's Provisional Government received word from Terra months ago."
"Now that Alert Star serves as a recruitment world for the Blackwatch, the Provisional Government officials are already waiting for us below."
Hearing this, everyone hurried to follow, feeling a collective sense of relief.
At least they wouldn't have to deal with the absurdity of opening fire on Alert Star because some message failed to arrive.
It seemed that regarding the defense of Terra, the High Lords of Terra had finally been efficient for once.
Soon, the massive orac remained in orbit, while several transports, glowing with faint light, left the giant warship like grains of sand.
The red glow of the engines, which had been roaring for who knows how long, finally dissipated as the hostile alert was lifted, allowing everyone to relax.
Many crew members were even granted leave, gathering on the deck or by the portholes to gaze down at the massive world beneath them.
The Blackwatch veterans who couldn't accompany Sith to Alert Star due to duty looked down at the world with complex expressions.
Until the light from Sith's transport completely merged into the boundless surface below.
On the surface of Alert Star, in the last preserved Hyberia Hive Sector.
The massive, towering Hive City palace.
The avenues, as vast as squares, were packed with crowds.
The Planetary Defense Force, clad in basic gear and holding rifles, stood guard along both sides of the avenue.
Everyone looked up with fervent eyes at the transports descending with a roar.
Escort Fighters circled the avenue, their autocannons aimed warily at the surroundings and the crowd.
From the transports that had landed earlier on the nearby pads, a large number of newly recruited and reorganized veterans rushed out.
These soldiers didn't have unified uniforms yet, still wearing a variety of clothes as they stepped forward to take over guard duties.
Then, the central transport slowly opened its doors under the watchful eyes of the multitude.
Accompanied by the slight hiss of steam from turning gears, the looming figures in the darkness of the cabin made the entire Tower Top hold its breath.
Then Sith stepped forward, slowly emerging from the darkness and fully exposing himself to the sunlight of the Tower Top.
Intense cheers instantly erupted across the Tower Top as Sith appeared every bit as divine and heroic as the portraits praised by the Ecclesiarchy and even the Adeptus Mechanicus.
Waves of cheering followed one after another, to the point that even Van Roth, following beside him, was surprised by the Alert Star civilians' fanatical adoration of Sith.
"Even with the Ecclesiarchy's propaganda, this shouldn't happen in such a short time!"
Van Roth watched the grand, thunderous cheering. The sound was so massive that even those below the Tower Top began to cheer, and this fervor quickly spread throughout Alert Star via local broadcasts.
In numerous Refugee Camps, crowds of emaciated people huddled together, staring at the small projection screens. Their faces, long filled with despair, were finally flooded with endless hope and excitement.
They too raised their hands toward the tiny figure of Sith on the screen, repeatedly chanting the name "Sith."
Atop the Tower Top, Sith's eyes swept over the relatively well-dressed welcoming party before looking directly toward the hive lands below, where the sound of the waves, though distant, still reached him.
He took a deep breath and walked to the very front, facing the cameras and the expectant civilians below the landing pad.
With his back to Van Roth, Sith's voice was helpless yet calm:
"They aren't adoring me."
"They are adoring the hope of survival."
Van Roth froze, instinctively wanting to speak. But looking at the scarred land in the distance and the reports just delivered by Alert Star officials, he paused and closed his mouth. He followed Sith's gaze toward the earth and gave a silent, faint sigh.
How to describe post-war Alert Star?
Let's put it this way: looking down from the Tower Top, Van Roth saw not the boundless toxic clouds of over-industrialization, but a clean sky!
Alert Star was so devastated that it couldn't even produce atmospheric pollution anymore!
As Sith finally reached the front, the cheering across Alert Star reached its peak under that clean sky.
Fireworks from some unknown source burst sporadically over the land, bringing long-lost color to the despairing, cold, and hungry Alert Star.
Then, Sith forced a smile and waved to the cameras and the welcoming crowd. He made no mention of leading them to reinforce Terra; his public declaration upon landing was brief and direct:
"I am back."
"Everyone will eat their fill, everyone will be warm, and everyone will have work!"
Short and powerful. Having spoken, Sith turned and headed straight to the office prepared for him in the Hyberia Hive Sector.
Behind him, the nearly twenty billion people of Alert Star erupted into even more intense, fanatical cheers following his public promise, so much so that even the thin clouds above drifted slightly.
The cheers were so loud that the Alert Star nobles and officials behind him couldn't help but narrow their eyes, grumbling that these low-lifes still had so much energy.
Only when the nobles and officials followed Sith into the vast, ornate office and the heavy gilded doors slowly closed was the outside noise finally shut out.
In the palace-like office, except for the massive portrait of the God-Emperor from the 30K Era behind Sith, all other decorations and furnishings had been replaced according to Sith's preferences.
Opposite the Holy Emperor, a portrait of Sith was hung just slightly lower than that of the God-Emperor.
As Sith removed his gear, he looked around and noticed that the portrait had been painted by the Ecclesiarchy directly on the warship back at Ustalii.
Just looking at these two paintings, Sith knew that the suffering of the commoners outside the Hive City hadn't affected these local nobles who remained after Calgar's departure in the slightest.
Thud—
The red sword was placed directly onto the massive desk.
Sith looked away from his own portrait, then pointed to it and spoke casually:
"Sell it. Trade it for food."
The crowd: "???"
This painting was worth a fortune—one could even say it was priceless. As a testament to Sith's supreme achievements, he was just going to sell it?
The nobles and officials looked at each other, hesitant to act. Seeing their hesitation, Sith pointed over his shoulder and helpfully explained:
"You misunderstand. I'm not just saying sell my portrait."
"I mean everything valuable, including the God-Emperor's..."
"Sell it all for me!"
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