Godzilla was a good thing.
So too was the corpse of the golden three-headed dragon Ghidorah, torn to shreds by Lady Alyssa.
Rumor had it that the XVI Legion of Astartes, the Luna Wolves, had reaped great gains in the newly opened world called "Disboard." Treasures beyond count, strange races without number—even the Empress had set aside her endless duties to visit personally.
According to the battle reports made public, the Flügel—warrior weapons forged for the purpose of god-slaying; the Dragonia—quasi-"multidimensional beings"; the Dwarves—creations of the God of Forge, masters of magical machinery…
Hisss…
All of them were priceless. If not for being in Selene's Ark Palace study, Dr. Stylish would have already burst into an unapproved, heretical dance just from thinking about it.
Yet, just as Dr. Stylish bowed deeply, scheming how best to wring more projects and resources from Selene—
"...Your Majesty… I believe I am more suitable than Dr. Stylish… The chief is far too busy… In research, divided focus is a grave taboo…"
A husky, hauntingly soft female voice drifted from behind him.
"..."
In the study, before Selene's desk, Dr. Stylish abruptly raised his head, blinking once. And again.
Behind his black-rimmed glasses, his brows furrowed, pale eyes narrowing. Danger. Someone was here to pluck his fruit.
"Dr. Mobius, aren't you supposed to be working on the project mitigating side effects of military-grade reinforcement drugs?"
Shaking off his fantasies of scientific conquest, Dr. Stylish turned with belated irritation toward the troublesome woman who, since joining the Imperial Science Bureau, had brazenly dared to challenge even his seat.
Her green hair fell like a waterfall down to her hips. The childlike body she once bore had fully matured. White lab coat, deep green knit blouse, pencil skirt, black stockings, black high heels—all of it accentuated her graceful figure.
A black tie adorned her chest, fastened with a golden diamond-shaped clasp. The curves beneath pushed against it, forming an alluring arc.
A beautiful, competent scholar—a woman of intellect and elegance.
In the crowded halls of the Imperial Science Bureau, she was already compared to names like Sumire Muroto of Genetic Biology (from Black Bullet), Rakshata Chawla of the Humanoid Weapon Development Department (from Code Geass), Nina Einstein of Antimatter Technology (from Code Geass), and Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey of Comprehensive Development (from Halo). Together they were praised as the roses blooming in the Empire's laboratories.
And above all, Mobius was quietly regarded as the foremost among female scientists.
She had scholarship, combat ability, beauty, and even military connections (such as Fu Hua).
All told—even the prodigy Dr. Halsey did not surpass her.
To this, Dr. Stylish could only snort: Hmph!
What roses! I am the rose of the Imperial Science Bureau!
The Empire's aesthetics were aligning more and more with Selene's own, and in this, Dr. Stylish grieved. His Team Stylish were the true beauty—yet why had Her Majesty so strictly forbidden their resurrection…
Ah, the loneliness of the artist.
Mobius' seductive eyes of green fading to pink met Dr. Stylish's faintly hostile gaze. Like a child denied his favorite toy, his look only made her lips curve faintly in amusement across her cold, beautiful face.
"Chief, I… ahem, my project has of course met its expected goals. I came intending to report to you, but you were absent from the Bureau. Out of responsibility and rigor, I came personally to present it here."
She had the impulse to jest, but seeing Selene's calm, ever-composed gaze, she thought better of it. Best to remain serious.
"However…"
Mobius shifted her tone. Lifting her pale green hair, she revealed the earring at her left ear—two nested Möbius rings. Meeting the Empress' amused, arched brows from behind the desk, she stepped forward, once again curtseying, lowering her head with the faint shyness of a young maiden.
"Since it is before Your Majesty, the beautiful Empress herself, my project report should naturally be submitted to Your Majesty first."
What flattery was this?
Already a servant under another's roof, her funding, her laboratories, every exotic material she used—all of it was provided by Selene.
She had all but accepted it.
Ah… every time she thought of this, Mobius sighed inwardly. Dr. Mei, Eden, Elysia… can you see? I have stepped upon a new infinite path. The Honkai crisis threatening humanity is already resolved.
A world where mankind coexists with the Honkai.
Perhaps she was not the most virtuous, perhaps even cruel and willful at times. But compared to the so-called Project STIGMA she left to Kevin… this way was far more reliable.
So she took solace in her own reasoning: just treat Selene not as human, but as the sun itself—the sun without which the order of the Empire could not endure.
With such a mindset, praising Selene carried no burden.
Better than scheming rebellion daily was pursuing her research, experiencing the diverse races caught up in the Empire's conquests, teasing cats, needling Hua, mentoring juniors of the new age, or sparring wits with that genius-pervert chief.
Such a life was not so bad.
"Mm?"
Selene sipped red tea leisurely, reclining against the golden-red carved chair. Subordinates vying for favor—well, perhaps not favor, but projects, materials, funding… it was all the same.
It had been some time since she'd seen such a sight.
Very well—continue your performance. I shall watch.
Shy, Mobius? Who would believe such a thing.
"Your Majesty, this concerns four types of combat stimulant injections often used by frontline soldiers unwilling to withdraw after injury. Typically, the side effects last from eight to forty-eight hours, with dizziness, nausea, and weakness."
Cradling a datapad, Mobius cast Dr. Stylish a brilliant smile—seductive, dazzling. With Selene's leave, and under the watch of the Imperial Guard, she linked her datapad to the holographic display before the imperial desk and began her explanation.
"Through formula optimization, based on repeated clinical trials with goblins (from Goblin Slayer, monsters crafted by that world's gods solely for amusement, sharing 100% genetic similarity with humans), the incidence of weakness has been reduced by over 60%. Dizziness and nausea, which most impaired combat ability, have been nearly eliminated. The primary side effect is now hunger—requiring high-calorie intake."
Moving with the poise of a cosmopolitan woman, Mobius requested clearance from the servitor, then swiftly projected comparative charts. Her fingers danced across analysis graphs, recalculating parameters directly before Selene.
"...Passed."
"It can enter experimental production and be deployed on a limited scale to frontline troops. Feedback will allow further refinement."
Taking another sip of red tea, watching the serpent restored to composure, Selene nodded, smiling brightly.
"Excellent. To complete the task so far ahead of schedule after receiving the project—Dr. Mobius, what reward do you desire?"
Standing naturally at Selene's side, Mobius' smile shone just as brightly.
"Your Majesty overpraises me. It is not my ability that stands out, but that my focus and attention are wholly undivided. If I may, my Empress—the Science Bureau's project distribution is gravely unreasonable…"
Her tone carried nothing but loyalty to crown and Empire.
Not a single word named Dr. Stylish, yet every word pointed at him.
To be sure, Dr. Stylish was unlike the hoarders of knowledge in the grimdark Mechanicum of 40K. He shared his technologies freely, old and new alike, with his peers.
Though Dr. Stylish had always shared technologies after "tasting the apple" himself, his hunger for control of projects and for new species, minerals, and elements was boundless.
Selene knew this had both pros and cons, yet she rarely bothered with such trifles.
The benefits outweighed the drawbacks.
With his body refined through layers of Honkai Energy reinforcement—especially in intellect and precision—wielding the Teigu reconstructed from Soulium and Honkai Cubes, the Glorious Hands of God [Perfector] (capable of amplifying finger motions thousands to tens of thousands of times for extreme precision in crafting delicate weapons), Dr. Stylish was indeed outstanding.
But if even Mobius had raised the matter, then Selene would deal with it casually.
Very well. Dr. Stylish had grown lax. Let the Infinite Serpent, with her aggressive tendencies, stir him up.
"My chief doctor, what say you?"
"Not so, Your Majesty. The more capable should bear more. For true geniuses, handling multiple projects simultaneously allows knowledge to cross-pollinate, increasing efficiency… And moreover, Dr. Mobius, I would remind you—bypassing proper channels to report directly is the true taboo."
Kneeling in salute to Selene, Dr. Stylish fixed Mobius with an unkind gaze.
Mobius did not yield. "Chief, I do not deny your genius or versatility. But if your 'multiple' refers to taking on hundreds of projects at once, then efficiency is hardly the word."
"Hmph. The judgment of mortals, through mortal eyes."
"Oh? Then let us set aside that matter. Chief, you claim bypassing procedure is wrong. But is there any authority in the Empire higher than that of Her Majesty? Does anyone outrank the Empress?"
What a heavy accusation. Selene's gaze drifted back and forth between the two, amused.
Had the Imperial Science Bureau become a drama stage like the Empresses in the Palace while she wasn't looking?
"You… slander! My loyalty to Her Majesty is as clear as sun, moon, and stars!"
"Sun, moon, and stars? Then by your words, Chief, are you saying the Empress is not the sun of the Empire?"
"Enough."
Selene tapped her teacup, fingers drumming the desk. Suddenly the gravity field burst forth, crushing the two quarrelling scientists to their knees. "Twisting words without end."
"This farce of afternoon tea ends here." Selene shook her head, smiling wryly, though vexation showed on her face.
Hum!
Scarlet diamond eyes flashed with streams of azure data. Selene raised a brow, expression turning to mild astonishment. "Dr. Stylish, so many flowers—your indulgence is excessive."
Her sidelong glance was sharp. In her eyes, he was no different from a gluttonous beast.
"You have yet to fully digest the Forerunner civilization's technologies, my chief doctor. And yet each legion sends you one specimen and you devour it, like a cub overeating until it bursts. How many projects now lie piled up?"
"Dr. Mobius, the projects concerning Planetary Godzilla, its ecosystem, and the Ghidorah Devourer will fall to you." With these words, Selene rendered her judgment.
It was a crack in Dr. Stylish's authority.
"Your Majes—"
"Until you have finished your current tasks, no new projects are to be initiated. Any objections, Doctor?"
"My…!" Meeting her abyssal scarlet, inhuman eyes, Dr. Stylish froze. Words died in his throat, countless protests compressed into a single reply: "As you command, Your Majesty. Your will be done."
"So much the better. Azril will remain. The rest, withdraw."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" ×N
At the sudden force that had crushed Dr. Stylish and Mobius to their knees, Pardofelis nearly fainted, fur standing on end. Hearing Selene's dismissal, she fled at once.
Too terrifying. Truly, meddling was a mistake. From now on, unless summoned, she swore never to poke her nose in again.
"Dr. Stylish." As the others departed respectfully—he, as highest in rank, the last to leave—Selene halted him.
"Doctor, measure your strength… and learn to unite others."
She lingered on the words, setting down her teacup, patting Alyssa's back. "The Dragonia scales, flesh, and bones Horus delivered—Doctor, receive them."
And then, "Guard them well—for me."
"At once!"
For all his flaws, as one who had served Selene since long ago, the tacit understanding remained. He grasped her meaning at once.
Yes, inefficiency from overextension had drawn criticism, and Her Majesty's displeasure was clear. Yet of all, she trusted him most.
...
The study quieted once more. As Selene perused reports and Alyssa tended the tea, a tall, broad figure stepped from shadow behind her chair, files in hand.
"My lady, your mastery of balance in rule grows ever finer."
"Merely adequate…"
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