Just as Selene released the entire Imperial Guard sequence, including the Forbidden Army, Sisters of Silence, and the Flügel, and supervised the "restructuring and reorganization during battle" of the Imperial Guard, Astartes Chapters, and even the Mechanicus' Skitarii Legions within the A–13 Grand Sector (Warhammer 40K universe), everything was in full swing.
...
In the Honkai Dimension, the Imperial Capital, within the palace complex of the Ministry of Justice.
Click!
"To prevent unhealthy practices caused by unfair competition and false advertising, I, Alyssa Bellarus, hereby propose to the legislators to immediately establish the Sacred Selene Empire General Advertising Ordinance."
"...Restricting false elements in advertising, prohibiting private merchant groups, individual vendors, and some resource-starved colonial governorates from vague, misleading, and ambiguous propaganda that confuses and deceives Imperial citizens..."
Leaning with both hands on the proposal podium of the Legal Assembly, the head of the Sisters of Battle, direct superior of the Valkyrie Corps, honorary advisor of the Imperial Assassins, and Grand Honorary Chamberlain of the Imperial Palace—the gray-haired, blue-eyed 'Princess' of noble virtue—was making an unprecedentedly fierce proposal.
Indeed, as long as she wasn't pouting at Selene or getting flustered by Sebas, Alyssa outside the palace still held immense dignity.
"Hmph, always moving only when poked."
This time, without wearing her white dragonfish robe, Selene sat with legs crossed upon the Void Throne at the top of the Legal Assembly's grand staircase, unconcerned by the pressure her presence placed upon the legislators.
She wasn't here to slack off.
"Leiva, that guy..."
Unfolding the Third Legion's memorial submitted by Mendicant Bias, Selene let out a soft hum.
"Alex's memorial, the Slime Demon Kingdom's diplomatic proposal. Delegation: Valkyrie Corps. Hmm, makes sense—the Astartes Legions really do use the Valkyrie Corps as their diplomatic envoys now. Team leaders: Raiden Mei, Natasha Cioara..."
When did they start serving with the First Legion again? Are they trying to pad their records across all twenty main Astartes Legions? Becoming more clever and smooth, I see.
"War, though terrifying, drives civilization forward and makes humanity stronger."
With a faint smile, Selene turned the page, keeping track of the galactic war reports. Dr. Stylish should have arrived by now. Hmm—the location for the experimental foundry world has been decided. It surrendered unconditionally under the coercion of the Flügel.
"As expected, robbery is still the fastest way."
She flipped another page.
"Hm?"
"Darth Vader, instead of dealing with the Rebel Alliance in the Endor System, actually came to the Outer Rim?"
Grinning, Selene's interest was immediately piqued.
"Since you've come, don't think about leaving. Become my puppet."
If Sebas were present, he would instantly see what Selene was thinking.
In short—
Step aside. I'm about to start micro-managing this personally!
...
"War drives people mad..."
Leia Organa, draped in a tattered gray cloak, lowered her head and walked quietly along the chaotic streets ravaged by sudden warfare.
The disorderly scene was filled with abandoned personal luggage and belongings. Countless vehicles, deserted due to blockades, sat covered in dust and rubble—yet the clean undersides showed they had been in good condition until recently.
Perhaps, once the chaos subsided, their owners would return to retrieve their things.
Of course, some would never return.
Looking at the collapsed, bullet-scarred buildings on both sides, the hastily built makeshift shelters, and the trembling survivors beneath their remains, Leia pursed her lips tightly, a mix of sorrow and anger welling in her heart.
"Father... I'm sorry..." Her eyes reddened. "Luke, Han... are you two all right?" she murmured, pressing a hand to her forehead.
Leia Organa knew full well—she had acted recklessly.
She had failed the expectations of her late father, Bail Organa, and the two billion innocent lives lost with Alderaan's destruction. She had also failed the trust of Mon Mothma, Supreme Commander of the Alliance to Restore the Republic.
Upon learning that her beloved, Han Solo, had been captured, Leia Organa acted on impulse. She crossed tens of thousands of light-years to find him, risking not only her own life but also wasting much of the invaluable and desperately needed time of the Rebel Alliance. As one of the key leaders of the Rebellion, this was a grave dereliction of duty.
She truly should not have squandered such precious time for personal needs and desires...
Especially when her reckless venture ultimately gained her nothing.
On Tatooine, within the palace of the Hutt, Jabba, she had been fortunate enough to reunite briefly with Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. Unfortunately, her identity was exposed, and she was forced to endure the humiliation of being enslaved by Jabba.
When she finally escaped, she found herself separated from her companions once more.
The vile Hutt crime lord, Jabba, had been slain, and his palace was leveled to the ground by an unknown army. Though Leia was rescued, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Chewbacca, Lando Calrissian, and even the two intelligent droids R2-D2 (Artoo) and C-3PO (Threepio) were all missing.
That terrifying, unknown, and immense army was annihilating all resistance across the Tatooine system, forcing Leia Organa—despite her grief—to flee the system aboard a small shuttle through a still-unblocked port.
During her journey, after regaining her composure, Leia Organa intended to locate a Rebel Alliance contact point within the Arkanis Sector.
However, events unfolded far beyond her expectations. Using the Tatooine system as one of its staging points, the army rallying beneath the double-headed eagle banner spread across the stars like a plague of locusts—swift, unstoppable, striking from every direction.
Leia had barely arrived at one of the Rebel contact worlds in the Arkanis Sector. Before she could even exchange codes or verify identities, the war of conquest bearing the name of Selene—a war forged by fanaticism—had already swept across the planet.
It was a massacre.
Hiding in the corner of a city's outskirts, she bore witness to the horror firsthand.
Lances of laser fire plunged from the heavens like blades, slicing through sky, atmosphere, steel, and soil alike. The raining fragments and dust told the story of the Galactic Empire's fleet being annihilated in orbit above.
In a way, the few surviving metropolises on the planet owed their existence to the Empire's oppressive rule.
The Empire's militarized zoning—strictly enforcing separation between civilian and military sectors—had saved many lives. Garrisons, planetary government starports, and the governor's residence were built far from population centers. Those towering barriers, fortress walls, and entrenched defense grids formed visible lines of segregation even from orbit.
Naturally, such distinct and concentrated targets invited immediate destruction. Even though the Sacred Selene Empire's forces valued individual valor and head-taking glory, they still bombarded these strongholds without hesitation.
In the age of interstellar warfare, without the support of orbital firepower, even planetary shields and deflection barriers protecting key positions could not withstand endless orbital strikes. The defenders became nothing more than livestock awaiting slaughter.
The only difference lay in how long they could resist.
As drop pods, gunships, air-support craft, and transports descended through the breaches torn open by bombardment, the fall of the planet entered its final countdown.
With the Astartes Chapter's assault squads at the spearhead, the reorganized Astra Militarum, aided by auxiliary and servitor forces, pressed hard—crushing the Galactic Empire's remaining troops planetwide.
From the window of her shelter, Leia Organa witnessed them.
Gigantic warriors clad in dark gray power armor, their pauldrons marked with black-and-white patterns resembling man-eating sharks, their massive helms bristling with studs and grille-like vents—these towering giants launched a savage assault against the Imperial stormtroopers defending the city lines.
The giants swung bloodied chain-axes in brutal arcs, cleaving through the stormtroopers who appeared pitifully small and frail in comparison.
Flesh and blood flew. The roaring chainsaws tore through composite armor plating, ripped open flesh, and shredded organs—ruthless and barbaric in their carnage.
The white-armored stormtroopers and their officers were torn apart, reduced to gore. Bathed in crimson, drinking deep of enemy blood, the armored giants annihilated all resistance within the district. Dozens of anti-air laser turrets and walker units were destroyed in mere moments.
A mountain of corpses, a sea of blood, mangled remains everywhere—the stench of death hung thick in the air.
A soldier, driven mad by pressure and despair, died right before Leia Organa's eyes. As he fled, his torso was blown apart by the massive-caliber solid projectile weapon wielded by one of the dark-gray armored giants. Bone fragments, shredded flesh, and entrails splattered across the ground.
Leia had only looked twice before a chill shot up her spine.
So fast. So ruthless.
By now, the purge and suppression were nearly complete.
The residential districts were of little concern to the so-called Sacred Selene Empire. They had neither the time nor the bureaucratic capacity to manage them. After setting up cage-like quarantine lines, they simply moved on. And it was through this that Leia Organa finally learned the name of the invading power.
As she walked silently, a sudden—boom!—shook the air. Roughly a kilometer away, an explosion rocked the district, rattling walls, blowing rooftops away, and sending a mushroom cloud billowing into the sky.
It was the Sacred Selene Empire—also known simply as the Imperial Army—conducting another purge of resistance fighters.
"Rape, dismemberment, kidnapping, extortion, plunder—guilty on all counts! By decree of the Imperial Inquisition under the Divine Empress, you are hereby sentenced to death. Execution, immediately!"
Several sharp shouts rang out from the edge of the street. A squad of Cadian Shock Troopers, their violet eyes gleaming, followed their officer from the Imperial Auxiliary Corps and dragged a group of filthy, craven individuals to a wall. They kicked them down and shot them in the head with lasguns.
Among the dead were humans, demi-humans, and other non-human species.
They deserved death—Leia Organa knew this. Most were slavers taking advantage of chaos to kidnap children and young women, organ harvesters scavenging fresh bodies for profit, and the scum of society reveling in humanity's darkest urges...
But what did that have to do with you executioners?
Pretending to act out of mercy and justice? Hypocrites. This planet only fell into ruin because of your barbaric invasion.
Plunderers? Laughable. The greatest thieves here are none other than you.
Leia Organa felt the absurdity of it all pressing down on her.
Not far away, in a plaza, she saw heavily armored soldiers distributing supplies. Their armor was painted mustard yellow, with a black-and-white checkered pattern beneath a red, teardrop-shaped heart on their pauldrons—the mark of the Lamenters Chapter.
"They're bastards... but at least bastards with a shred of conscience," she murmured bitterly, her feelings tangled and conflicted.
Hypocrisy, after all, was better than total apathy.
"They're enemies, not allies."
That was Leia's judgment. The ideology of this double-headed eagle army stood utterly opposed to that of the Rebel Alliance. If anything, they'd find more kinship with the Sith.
Wandering aimlessly, she felt lost. The starport shuttles were no longer an option; leaving the city seemed impossible. The communication line she'd barely re-established with the Rebel contact point was once again cut off. She didn't even know if the covert agents there were alive.
She didn't know how much time had passed when a deep, resonant rhythm—heavy and oppressive, carrying the aura of death—startled her from her thoughts. Calming herself, she realized she had arrived at a wide, flattened street.
Thud... Thud...
Silence. A deathly silence.
These soldiers didn't wear the polished uniforms of the Galactic Empire. Their armor was rough and practical—layered triple pauldrons, partial tactical plating, cluttered with gear: grenades, lasgun magazines, and pouches. At their waists hung monomolecular-edged entrenching tools and bayonets.
A company of soldiers—fusing the feel of both ancient and futuristic—marched past, their faces hidden behind respirator masks, radiating an eerie stillness.
"Clone Troopers?"
As the Princess of Alderaan, Leia knew that the Grand Army of the Republic had once been composed entirely of clones. After Emperor Palpatine's rise, the clones aged and died or were retired, and the Empire transitioned to a human-based military.
Just like the elite 501st Legion—Darth Vader's own personal unit that had slaughtered the Jedi Temple.
That thought flashed through Leia's mind.
"Vader... Endor... the final battle... No, I must return to the Alliance... I must go back to them."
Leia pressed her hand against her forehead, groaning faintly. "Vader..."
The world seemed to fade into a monochrome, three-dimensional sketch—unreal, dreamlike. In that fleeting haze, she could hear the sharp hiss of a cold, mechanical respirator growing ever clearer, ever closer. The sound was chilling, powerful, dangerous.
Leia had never felt such dread.
In the next instant, she saw Luke—shrouded in mist, standing within a swampy forest, filled with confusion, guilt, anger, and despair...
"What is this...?"
—
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