We passed through the barrier and flew into the city's airspace. Our journey over the dunes and desert passed quickly. All I managed to see was a cart of refugees making their way deeper into the desert. Flying into the city, we headed straight for the Tower of Edem. As we approached, two fighters pulled up alongside us and escorted us to the docking bays. Before landing, we were checked by tugs in the air. Two different teams entered our shuttle and turned it upside down, searching for anything that could threaten the Emperor's life.
To my surprise, the ordinary soldiers, tug operators, and pilots were dressed in exquisite ceremonial uniforms I had never seen before. They were black, with red rose patterns on the collars and gold clasps in the shape of three circles. The uniforms were perfectly pressed and fitted neatly. Each of them carried a pistol in a holster.
After passing two inspections, we were allowed to land and wait for further instructions.
The closer we got to the Tower of Edem, the harder it became to take in its entire height. It was massive and beautiful. Sheathed entirely in gold and marble, it towered over the poor and rich districts alike, showing its power over them and their insignificance before it.
Flying into the docks, we saw nothing—our windows were immediately sealed and plunged into darkness. We were ordered to wait for an infiltration team to inspect us. We didn't wait long—just a few minutes.
Soon the shuttle's ramp opened, and six people in white armor with red circles boarded. Their faces were hidden beneath helmets, but their weapons were clearly visible.
They ordered us to line up against the wall. The pilots had to stand as well, since control of the ship had passed to their jurisdiction. After the lineup and a few minor checks, they began inspecting each of us individually, summoning us for questioning.
I was third.
Each of us was taken out of the shuttle one by one, interrogated, and not returned. When my turn came, two soldiers approached me and led me to the shuttle's exit. Stepping out, I saw a miracle.
Great and beautiful docks, unlike any I had ever seen. They were white and red, as if some ancient artist from Earth had come here to breathe life into this place. And honestly, he had succeeded. White columns and arches were painted with red patterns and ornaments, and somewhere in the distance stood golden statues reflecting the rays of the false sun, which gave itself to them.
Banners of armies fluttered to the side, and above them hung military posters, similar to those aboard the Chaos. Frozen in place, taking it all in, I forgot for a moment how I had gotten here—but a kick from a soldier brought me back.
"Move it," he said in a serious voice.
Looking back at him, I walked on. Ahead of me was another soldier, leading me to the interrogation room. Despite the fact that the Emperor himself had summoned us, the procedure was the same for everyone. I'd heard that even leaders of other states were subjected to questioning. As time shows, there's no such thing as too much security.
Walking through the docks, I noticed a door with a small, inconspicuous window—that was where I was being taken. Wires and cables littered the floor, forcing me to step over them to keep from tripping.
Reaching the door, it swung open, and I was led inside. As I expected, the room was small and stuffy. In the center stood a table and two chairs. On one of them sat a Galt counterintelligence agent, holding a folder and personal belongings. My belongings.
On the table lay my pistol in its holster, my terminal, and the wristwatch Sharon had given me for outstanding marksmanship.
I was seated on a chair, and then the two soldiers left the room, leaving me alone with the agent. It all reminded me of a place I had once been. It was just as dark and stuffy, silent and yet unbearably loud from that very silence.
It reminded me of the interview—the one where I first learned about the Protocol and that I had passed the test. So much had happened since then, so much had changed. I had grown up and become stronger, learned countless secrets and taken lives. I had fought with myself and worried for my friends. I had managed to feel alive—and that was what the Legion's agency had taken from me long ago. Passion and love for life, the will to live—they had torn me from my family and loved ones, shoved me into the claws of the war machine, and never let go until my mind had warped into what it is now. They took my freedom, but not my right to choose. And that is what makes me who I am.
Perhaps that was what Fen and Maron saw in me. Perhaps that was what the Emperor was afraid of when he tried to crush me with his authority. Perhaps that is what they are trying to eradicate.
I sat silently, staring at the man in uniform with his face hidden. I could see neither his expression nor him. He was studying the folder and the items intently, as if they might hold the answers to his questions. But answers weren't what he needed—he had been trained to ask questions, not to find answers.
Putting down the folder and tearing his gaze away from my belongings, he looked at me.
"I'm sorry, officer. Such a loss must have hit you hard," he began. His voice escaped his helmet and scattered around the stifling, silent room, bouncing off the walls.
"Excuse me?" I asked uncertainly, not understanding what he meant.
"Colonel Fen died two days ago in that terrible chaos. You wouldn't happen to know what happened, would you?" he asked, abruptly shifting the pressure.
"No, but thank you for your condolences. We all miss him," I answered, showing nothing.
He opened the folder again and began flipping through the pages, searching for something. I stared at the pistol, imagining how I would snatch it and kill the agent in front of me if something went wrong.
"How much longer am I going to be kept here? I have a meeting with the Emperor," I said, breaking the silence that had settled between us.
He tore his gaze from the folder and looked at me.
"We know. But you'll be kept here as long as I want. And judging by your file, you don't have much time left," he began, flipping through the folder again. "How do you like Apollo, officer? Did you manage to go anywhere for a walk?" he asked.
He clearly hadn't asked that question for no reason.
Looking straight into the eyeholes of his helmet, I answered calmly:
"Yes. You have some quite beautiful museums here on Apollo."
"Oh yes, the museums are magnificent. And the hotels are wonderful, especially our great and famous Grand Dore. Ever been there?" he asked, still staring at me.
Fear began to wrap around me. He knew I had been there. Their entire agency knew and had surely been watching me and our actions. How could I have been so stupid as to forget and not notice, especially after Fen's behavior?
"No," I answered, showing no sign that my heart was about to stop.
He kept staring at me until he asked his final question:
"Where are you from, officer? So much is written about you here, but not a word about where you were born," he said, gesturing at the folder with his hands.
The heat and stuffiness pressed down on me harder, and sweat began to pour from me, leaving me defenseless.
"Lucas," I answered briefly and seriously, looking straight into his eyes—or at least where I assumed they were.
A few moments passed before he stood up and said:
"That's all! Welcome to the Tower of Edem!" he said, extending his hand to me.
In that moment, everything around me seemed to vanish—all the heat and stuffiness turned into a cool, damp breeze on the seashore, brushing against my face. But it was only an illusion.
I shook his hand, then left the room and was directed to a waiting area, where I waited for the others. An hour later, Durs arrived, followed by Reni.
"Goddamn idiots," Durs hissed, rubbing his wrist.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Those elite agents thought I was trying to smuggle something into the interrogation room and manhandled me," he said angrily.
When Reni and I heard that, we burst out laughing, making the soldiers by the door stare at us in surprise.
"Shut up."
Soon a legate came to us, dressed in a beautiful white uniform with two miniature leopards fighting each other on his chest.
"Officers. The Emperor is waiting for you. Follow me," he said briefly and clearly, then turned and headed for the exit. We stood and hurried after him.
He led us through corridors and elevators. Everything around was decorated and adorned with works of art. Great paintings and statues, exhibits and weapons. It was as if we were back in that museum—everything was so beautiful. The walls were covered with some kind of beautiful green plant that occupied most of their surface, except for three golden rings in the center.
The ceilings were painted with a divine fresco. It depicted kings and gods sitting on soft clouds, yearning for a majestic feast. Some of them drank wine, while others sat apart, poking at their plates with forks.
As we walked, lords and diplomats passed us. Sometimes we encountered counterintelligence agents, sometimes mere servants—waiters and cleaners who made sure all this beauty remained alive.
We walked for a few more minutes until we came upon one of the wonders of the world. It was indescribable.
We reached a magnificent garden. It was placed among the corridors, as if it didn't exist. It was hard to grasp its scale. Around us were trees and bushes, artificial roses and hyacinths. Somewhere birds chirped and water murmured. A river.
The legate led us through the garden. We walked across bridges and paths worn down by thousands of wanderers. After a few minutes of wandering through this beautiful place, we reached a stream that made that distant murmuring sound. Stepping onto the bridge and looking down, I saw mirror-clear water, and in it—countless little fish struggling against the current.
Even they fought, living in a false world they had been brought to. Perhaps we were something like them.
Leaving the garden, we entered a huge hall filled with chairs and tables. It looked like a giant dining hall—and to my surprise, that's exactly what it was. Walking past the chairs and tables, we moved on, following the legate.
After passing through all these halls and gardens, hordes of corridors and strange people crossing our path, we entered an elevator.
"When will this all end?" Durs asked himself quietly.
"Soon, officer," the legate answered loudly, without turning around.
Durs was startled into silence and shrank. Soon, it turned out, the legate was right.
Rising in the elevator, a single corridor opened before us, leading to a hall even larger than the one we had seen a few minutes earlier. This hall was decorated differently, not like the rest of Edem, which had revealed its soul to us as we advanced.
It was entirely black. The ceiling was held up by golden columns, on which was a copy of the fresco of the divine feast. On either side of the columns hung four chandeliers of silver and gold. They reflected the rays of the sun from small windows above. And on the columns themselves were carved the faces of millions of great people—some of whom I recognized.
The legate entered the hall before us, and from around the corner stepped two warriors of the Emperor's personal guard. Both wore black armor with red plumes, like Spartans, on their helmets. Three golden rings gleamed brightly on their shields. In their hands, they carried spears.
"Is this a joke?" Reni asked. "Are they part of the exhibit?"
The legate pretended not to hear. Walking two meters ahead, he stopped, turned to us like some kind of robot on command, and began explaining the protocol for addressing the Emperor.
"Be respectful and do not raise your head until His Majesty the Emperor allows it," he began, explaining the rules seriously and clearly. "Do not approach His Majesty and do not address him until he allows you to do so."
Two minutes of explanations passed. He told us about the honors and titles of the Emperor, which we had to recite when addressing him. It was also forbidden to look the Emperor in the eyes.
Finishing his speech, he gestured for us to follow him. We did. He approached the massive doors, knocked on them twice, and they began to slowly slide apart. At the speed they opened, I could see through the gap the throne and the vast hall behind it, with panoramic windows stretching from floor to ceiling.
The moment the doors opened, the legate ordered us to lower our heads and follow him forward. We obeyed. Fear began to wrap around me before the power I was about to face. The Galt Emperor was right in front of me—the very one who was supposed to die.
Our target.
Approaching close enough to the Emperor, the legate gave a command, and trumpets blared from both sides. The presentation of the Emperor began. The legate walked a little past us and stepped aside, beginning to recite the titles of the Emperor seated before us.
"Your Magnificence Adreus Nero XVII, Warlord of Wars and Worlds, Direct Heir of Caesar and his sons, Emperor of the Human Race, Lord among Mortals, Herald of God's Fate, Commander-in-Chief of all Armadas, Sovereign of the entire Universe…" the old legate began, but the Emperor's heavy hand, raised to call for silence, cut the old legate off.
Silence and tension filled the room. The two of them performed their deadly dance.
"Rise, officers, and look upon your Emperor," he said in his strange voice.
Hearing his command, we immediately rose and looked him in the eyes. Before me stood a middle-aged man, about Fen's age. On his head were three golden rings intertwined, and on his fingers—rings and large emeralds.
I couldn't take my eyes off his face.
His face.
He wore a mask. The mask was made of gold and adorned with patterns of flowers and plants. He looked like an ancient king of Jerusalem. As if Baldwin himself sat before me. The mask reflected the rays and the light that fell upon it, illuminating the Emperor's face and body as if he himself were a deity.
"Your Majesty, we have come at your command," I said, bowing my head, stunned by what I saw.
The Emperor stirred on his throne and examined all of us.
"I see," he said calmly, as if playing some kind of game. "How are you feeling, officers?" he asked, alluding to the explosion we had caused in the docks.
"Excellent, Your Highness," Reni answered, tilting his head like I did, despite the Emperor's order not to.
"How did you manage to escape?" he asked.
"We managed to avoid the shockwave and then evacuated with the others," I began explaining. "The Lord helped us."
I looked at the Emperor's face, hoping to see something, but the mask hid everything. His emotions and expression were hidden, so I couldn't tell how the Emperor had reacted.
"The Lord," His Majesty began. "How much do we really know about our Lord? One moment He appears to save us, the next He condemns us to destruction. But what I have learned about the Lord is that He does not love traitors and their like," the Emperor said seriously and sharply.
Fear wrapped itself deeper around me, but I felt a certain calm, knowing that we had come to face this philosophical demon not empty-handed. Counterintelligence had never found the poison hidden beneath Reni's button—the poison meant to kill or at least harm the Galt Emperor.
We could use it right now, but for us, that would mean instant death. Maron had ordered us first to extract some information from the Emperor's own mouth before using the poison. And while we kept the Emperor talking, he and a diversionary team would storm the tower and evacuate us. The plan would have been good, but there was another problem.
Maron hadn't contacted us for several hours and had stopped appearing on the terminal. Given what we had at the moment, all we could do was wait.
"I didn't invite you here for nothing, officers. A good friend of mine wanted to meet you," the Emperor said, reaching toward the legate standing by his throne, signaling him to approach and carry out his master's command.
A friend? What friend of the Emperor wanted to see us?
The legate, hearing the Emperor's command, left through the door and soon returned with a large crate floating on small gravitational holders. The crate stopped before us, separating us from the Emperor.
The crate was matte black. It let through neither light nor sound.
"This is a gift, officers, and I hope you like it very much," the Emperor began. "And now, allow me to introduce my friend," he said, and the doors beside him swung open.
A figure in a white uniform began walking toward us out of the shadows. His footsteps echoed off the walls and columns until a familiar face emerged from the darkness. I looked at Durs and Reni. Their eyes widened in silence as they stared at the man before us, frozen in shock and horror. This couldn't be.
It was impossible.
His face was burned and covered in scars, with patches of jawbone showing through. The former beauty and grace had left this man. The smooth, delicate skin of his face had been abandoned by life. Before us stood a dead man—but he was more alive than any living soul.
"I missed you."
Fen.
In that instant, the walls of the crate dissolved, replaced by glass, and my heart stopped. What lay inside the crate was everything to us. Our hope and support. I stumbled back at the sight of it, nearly falling.
My mentor was bound, his mouth gagged. They had put him in a small crate, immobilized.
Maron.