At the edge of the Sea of Stars, in a high-dimensional universe on the verge of extinction, the once-flourishing civilization of intelligent beings that ruled the galaxy had already perished...
In the cold reaches of cosmic space, a massive spatial rift sliced across the starry river like a terrifying wound carved into the fabric of the universe!
Amidst the void, the plasma flames ejected by military-grade Honkai energy conversion engines lit up the darkness. The cold, sharply contoured metallic surfaces of the warships glinted under the radiant glow of their neighboring vessels' engines. Zooming out, it resembled a cluster of steel behemoths gleaming like countless suns and stars!
Countless steel domes rose from heavy fortresses, and rows upon rows of colossal fortress cannons aimed at the boundless galaxy. Positioned between war cannons and numerous weapons of mass destruction, the radiant imperial double-headed eagle emblem declared their allegiance.
A pure and austere silvery-gray metallic emblem was engraved on the sides of every ship—a skull-shaped steel mask. Lacking any superfluous decoration or personal flair, this symbol alone was enough to erase any doubt in the minds of Imperial citizens regarding this formidable legion's will and ruthless determination.
The Fourth Legion of the Astartes—Iron Warriors.
Every warship of the Iron Warriors displayed a brutally functional aesthetic in its tactical symbols, design philosophy, and utilitarian approach. Compared to other legions, the portholes on these hulking steel hulls were few and far between.
The sole exception was the Iron Warriors' legion flagship, the space carrier Iron Blood, with a diameter exceeding three hundred kilometers.
Though equally austere with its silver-gray paint and void-shielded, windowless hull built solely for war, its command bridge was remarkably luxurious.
Atop the massive Gothic spire-shaped bridge stood enormous stained-glass windows and numerous statues, bas-reliefs, and murals portraying the radiant image of the Divine Empress.
Of course, it still couldn't compare to the opulence of the Third Legion's Black Templars, the Ninth Legion's Blood Angels, or the Thirteen Legion's Ultramarines.
According to the words of the Iron Warriors' Commander, this magnificent palace built atop the bridge was not for himself. He had no affinity for such things. War technology and military data were what he relied upon. The command center and operations room were where he belonged.
As for whom it was meant for?
Creak!
The thick, gilded alloy door groaned open, revealing the palace's interior to its true master.
No matter how busy they were, upon seeing the newcomer, every Imperial Navy officer clutching a tactical tablet felt a surge of shock and boundless fervor crash into their chests. Even the towering Astartes warriors and Sangheili commanders dropped to one knee, fists over hearts.
"Your Majesty!"
"My God!"
Giants clad in silver-gray masterwork power armor also rose from their seats, saluting, pledging their eternal loyalty to the approaching figure.
Humbled and trembling voices rang out in succession. Selene's eyes gazed through the floor-to-ceiling window at the "planet" outside—a barren world entirely covered in metallic constructs, its surface composed of enormous armor plates and vast swaths of exposed machinery.
Chaos.
At first glance, all the information about it flooded Selene's mind: a Dyson Sphere-like megastructure created by an intelligent civilization from another universe, built around a star and capable of absorbing all its energy—a supermassive interstellar mothership.
The flagship of the Greek machine gods, the primordial Chaos—from which emerged the Olympian gods, including Zeus.
As its original universe neared its end, Chaos expended 97% of its functions to transport the other machine gods to alternate universes, entrusting them with the mission of restoring their homeworld.
The machine god fleet wandered the cosmos for tens of thousands of years, searching for a suitable planet to settle. Just as their energy reserves were nearing depletion, they discovered Earth. Descending upon it, their immense power garnered the worship of humanity, and step by step, they evolved into the deities known in Greek mythology.
Previously, to resist Selene's erosion, the Swirl of the Root had loosened its grip, allowing it to enter the physical universe via spatial rift. Judging by its trajectory, it seemed to be heading toward Chaldea to confront Alyssia. However, midway, it encountered the main force of the Fourth Legion Iron Warriors fleet.
The nature of its existence and the mechanisms by which it operated deeply fascinated the Lord of Iron.
And so, with its systems far from recovered, Chaos was besieged. Giant light lances, macro-cannons, heavy electromagnetic cannons, heavy plasma cannons, orbital fortress cannons, nova cannons... an overwhelming barrage of weaponry rained down all at once.
The entire surface of the "planet" was nearly obliterated by the bombardment, revealing beneath the layered armor the stellar core that powered its systems. Yet now, the star housed within had gone dim and lifeless.
Selene withdrew her gaze. "Azem, it seems you have acquired the prize you desired."
The Imperial warships anchored in fixed orbital positions around the "planet," and the Iron Warriors stationed on the surface, confirmed the truth—it had become the spoils of the Iron Warriors.
"Indeed, my Empress. This will be the finest trophy. I assure you, I will transform it into a standardized tactical asset no less formidable than the Halo or the Great Ark."
A towering giant stood from the central command seat in the vast grand hall, his tone brimming with undisguised joy.
He was even larger and more imposing than the Astartes warriors beside him, who appeared almost childlike by comparison.
His heavy and fearsome armor, entirely in silvery-gray metallic tones, was edged with sharp, minimalist brass trim. On his oversized power-armored arms, polished multi-barreled mini light-lance launchers hung at his sides.
His deliberately shaven head was covered by a signature neural interface system, allowing him to command his fleet and his exclusive Iron Ring battle mech legion in real-time. It also served as a blatant marker of his identity.
Fourth Legion Astartes Commander, Lord of Iron—Perturabo Azem.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
With heavy steps, Perturabo Azem approached Selene and dropped to one knee like a mountain of steel and jade, his once-proud head bowed deeply in deference.
"My Empress, the Iron Warriors have not failed you."
Clang clang!
Selene laughed heartily and patted the thick pauldron of the Lord of Iron, broader than half her body. "Alright, Azem, rise. Tell me about your new plan. What inspiration has this machine god mothership given you?" she asked, steering the conversation toward his area of interest.
As she spoke, Selene gestured for the attending officers to rise.
"At your command!"
At her words, Perturabo Azem responded with trembling excitement from his kneeling posture, clearly moved.
When it came to this topic, Perturabo Azem perked right up.
A natural lover of science and technology, he was no orator. Designing ever more efficient and ruthless machines of war was his greatest passion. It was also what made his legion one of the top three most frequent collaborators with the Empire's Forge Division and Science Bureau.
Perturabo Azem practically leapt to his feet, manipulating the central holographic display in the grand hall to showcase his half-finished, still-developing designs. At that moment, his face—usually locked in a state of mechanical composure—even broke into a rare smile.
Eyes gleaming with excitement, the Lord of Iron fixed his gaze on Selene, as though lit from within. Overflowing with enthusiasm, he combined speech and gesture to explain his plan.
His smile, rarely seen by his subordinates, stunned the nearby Iron Warrior honor guards into silence.
This scene—perhaps not the most accurate comparison—truly resembled a child proudly reporting a good grade to a parent...
Hey, Empress, you seeing this?
Take notes!
"Death Star?" Upon hearing Perturabo Azem's description, Selene frowned slightly and murmured to herself.
A "planet-sized battle space station," "mobile satellite," "projected orbital defense satellite for the Astartes legion's capital world," "experimental charged doomsday weapon"... all these descriptors immediately called to mind a certain celestial superweapon.
"Death Star?"
Perturabo Azem paused, muttered to himself, then reconsidered. Hiss... it does sound rather fitting. He immediately bowed and said, "Thank you, Your Majesty, for bestowing a name. I will complete the prototype's retrofitting at once."
"Mm." Selene chuckled and nodded, accepting his interpretation.
Chaos's attack method—that "eye" firing an FTL magic beam—did indeed resemble the Death Star.
But he did remind her: the Empire's current conventional firepower was already more than sufficient. In terms of single-target destructive capacity, they far exceeded Chaos.
However, there seemed to be a firepower gap between the scale of a single planet and an entire galaxy.
This gap wasn't in sustained firepower projection, but rather in instantaneous destructive capability.
Destroying a single star? Almost every newly commissioned Imperial Navy vessel could do that. Even an unassuming transport ship, once equipped with Whirlwind Torpedoes or Bipolar Whirlwind Torpedoes, could reduce a star to rubble with just five pounds of pressure on a button.
As for galaxy-spanning weapons, the Halo Array's intersecting phased neutrino waves could sweep clean all life across the Milky Way in an instant.
The problem was the awkward middle ground in between.
Take the Solar System, for example. Without using black hole bombs or unconventional methods like stellar detonation, an Imperial Navy main battleship relying solely on conventional firepower still found it difficult to annihilate a star system instantly.
So building a Death Star powered by Honkai crystals instead of Chaos's energy source seemed worth a try. A Death Star the size of a star itself...
Ah, such a leap in thought.
Selene rubbed her forehead, amused. Why am I rushing this...
The Empire's arsenal was already in a state of firepower surplus. What she was pondering now was likely something Dr. Fashion and Mobius had already prepared for. The proposal had probably already been submitted.
As for her role? Steering the direction from the center was enough.
After all, those veterans on the front lines understood the Empire's military development and shortcomings far better than she did. Selene had never personally used most of those weapons. One snap of her fingers was more devastating than a full barrage.
And with that, her thoughts wandered again.
Predatory wandering stars... Starships built with unknown technology, traveling faster-than-light atop fragments of stellar debris. Best to send the captured specimens and records back to the Imperial Capital for Dr. Fashion to study.
And their trajectory? It pointed toward Leiva.
"Ehehe..."
...
Meanwhile, elsewhere—
Lounging diagonally on a luxurious red-gold-trimmed sofa, Selene had already shifted into relaxation mode after burdening Leiva with extra tasks and kicking him out. She yawned, using delicate gravitational manipulation to peel a fresh fruit offering from a certain agri-world under the Third Legion, and began chewing leisurely.
"The contrast in style is just too stark. If I had to say, I still prefer going incognito to Leiva's Third Legion. The indulgence is unmatched..."
The room was lavishly decorated. Even the interior armor plating had been painted a dazzling purplish-red, inlaid with gold ornaments. It was a quiet observation hall, with a finely crafted indoor fountain tucked into a corner of the luxurious suite.
Beside her sat an incense burner, smoke rising from its top and dispersing into ever-shifting shapes—a crane one moment, a dragon the next—vivid and lifelike.
Directly ahead stood a massive floor-to-ceiling observation window. The outer frame was finely carved from orichalcum steel, the inner frame made from rare mountain wood. The reinforced glass structure offered a clear view of the planet below, as well as the Third Legion fleet stationed in low orbit.
The floor was paved with a single slab of marble, flanked by onyx columns. Each column was engraved with gilded inscriptions chronicling the legion's victories. Between them stood statues of the legion's championship warriors through the ages.
That sea-star-haired figure—wasn't that Hak Foo?
Unfortunately, Hak Foo was currently deployed on a different front opened by the Black Templars Legion. Otherwise, Selene would've insisted on sending Hak Foo to blast Merlin with a punch.
Why?
For the fun of it, obviously.
As for Selene's current state... one might call it split-consciousness.
Her primary consciousness remained in the Swirl of Honkai dimension, undergoing self-transcendence, while her secondary avatars were out inspecting the grassroots. The minds remained linked.
Spending too long in the Swirl of the Root got boring—the unchanging chaos, the murky starfields. Sending a fragment out to "breathe the air" was a decent way to pass the time.
To use an analogy: Selene's main body was still sleeping, but her consciousness was awake—and even choosing what kind of dream to have.
Some avatars were visiting Esdeath, others Perturabo Azem, some Leiva, and still others...
Then something Fu Hua experienced brought Selene a bit of joy. Leveraging her access to the Swirl of the Root, Selene learned what Merlin had done.
Tsk tsk, using illusions to repeatedly show Fu Hua the death of her team leader, the one she viewed as a mentor figure... Merlin, it's no wonder you got beaten up like a scammer caught red-handed.
Crunch!
Selene reached for a slice of cheese-stretched pizza from the coffee table and took a light bite. "Hoo... looks like I finally get to relax."
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