At the temporary command center
Kenthelion stared at the large screen in the command center, watching a group of people being chased by a horde of zombies behind them, running for their lives. Their numbers seemed to have dropped significantly since he first saw them—they used to be a convoy of school buses, but now they were just running. The Astra Militarum calculated that from an initial 50,000 people, only about 30,000 remained, mostly women and children. The men had chosen to sacrifice themselves, holding off the zombies to buy time for the women and children to escape.
"Jacob, as far as I know, there's one battlecruiser and six colony ships from Terra Aeterna currently orbiting Earth, right?"
"That's correct, Your Majesty. They just arrived and are still orbiting Earth."
"Send all Medivacs, Vikings, Banshees, and those six colony ships to rescue them."
"Have the Banshees bomb the zombies to buy time for the Terran Marines to evacuate the civilians onto the colony ships, and the Vikings provide covering fire if any zombies get too close."
"Yes, Your Majesty. We'll relay your orders to the battlecruiser captain immediately."
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In Earth's orbit, inside the battlecruiser, an officer shouted sharply at the soldiers and pilots preparing for deployment:
"Move quickly! Everyone get into the medivacs now!"
The Vikings and Banshees rumbled, engines roaring, ready for takeoff.
"Our mission is clear: His Majesty the Emperor has ordered the rescue of approximately 30,000 civilians!"
"Marines will form a tight defense around the colony ships, while Vikings and Banshees provide lethal air support!"
"Medics, organize the evacuation and guide the refugees into the colony ships efficiently!"
"Is everyone clear?"
"Yes, sir!" came the unified response.
One by one, about 20 medivacs, 12 Banshees, and 10 Vikings left the battlecruiser's hangar, piercing Earth's atmosphere at full speed toward Tokyo.
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On the road leading to Tokyo, a group of women and the few remaining men struggled to support each other as they ran, many carrying children in their arms. Their strength was nearly gone, but a massive horde of zombies continued to stagger after them from behind. The undead had come from cities all around Tokyo, and these survivors had been fleeing for more than two days.
Tokyo held their last hope—a safe zone said to be established near Haneda Airport.
"Damn it… we only have about 30,000 women and children left," one of the men muttered breathlessly. "All the other men sacrificed themselves so we could keep going. Only about 100 of us remain now."
During the escape, nearly 20,000 men—fathers, brothers, husbands—had charged into the zombie horde with whatever they could find, just to buy time for their loved ones. Now, only 100 remained.
"Big sis, I… I can't run anymore…" a 12-year-old girl cried to the woman beside her.
"Airi, hang in there. We have to reach Haneda Airport. There's a safe zone there," said the woman, her clothes dirty and torn, as she gently pulled the child forward.
"Move, everyone! The zombies are right behind us!" shouted a middle-aged policeman in uniform, his voice cutting through the chaos. He looked at the panicked crowd, then to the last 100 men standing. The men nodded silently, understanding what had to be done.
The officer approached the woman with the child.
"Kiriko Miyamoto… my love… you must lead them to Haneda. Get them to safety. Get Airi there."
"No… no! We're almost there. You're coming too!" Kiriko sobbed, clutching his hand tightly.
"Kiriko… you must survive. Our daughter is at the Takagi estate. Tell her… tell her I love her. And I love you." The policeman gently released her hand and turned away, joining the other 99 men.
With weapons barely fit for battle, they charged toward the oncoming horde—one last stand to give their loved ones a few more minutes to reach safety.
Kiriko could do nothing but cry, watching her husband disappear into the swarm of the undead…
Not long after, about thirty minutes had passed when a loud rumbling echoed through the sky. Everyone instinctively looked up, eyes fixed on the darkened heavens. Suddenly, like fiery meteors burning through the atmosphere, bright streaks of flame appeared. Emerging from the blaze were twelve Banshees, streaking swiftly forward and bombing the hordes of zombies relentlessly chasing from behind.
Below them, a strange fleet of unfamiliar ships caught everyone's breath. In the front were twenty Medivacs, ready to evacuate the survivors, followed by ten Vikings providing covering fire. Behind them, six massive Colony Ships began descending slowly, radiating an aura of overwhelming power.
One by one, the Medivac doors opened, revealing soldiers clad in gleaming blue armor, shields strapped to their shoulders, and heavy weapons in hand. They split into two groups: some guarded the newly landed Colony Ships, while others took positions at the front, ready to repel the approaching zombie waves. Among them were troops in white armor marked with red crosses—the Medics.
The ten Vikings switched to ground mode and opened fire on the advancing zombies. Burst after burst of gunfire lit the air, buying precious moments for the survivors to catch their breath.
One of the Medics approached Kiriko Miyamoto and slowly removed their helmet. Their voice was calm but firm. "Are you the leader of this group? If so, follow me and board the refugee ships in an orderly manner."
Kiriko, still dazed and confused, was brought back to focus after being called repeatedly by the white-armored soldier. She nodded and replied, "Yes, I'm their leader. Who are you?"
"We are soldiers sent by His Majesty the Emperor to rescue you. Please board quickly—our ammunition is limited," the Medic said.
"Look! It's a ship—it's here to save us!"
"There are soldiers! They've come to rescue us!"
"Come on, quickly! Let's get inside that strange-looking ship—the armored soldier told us to move!"
Amid the panicked crowd, a small voice rose quietly.
"Sister... are those soldiers really here to save us?"
A little girl named Airi looked up at her older sister, her clear eyes shining with hope, even though her tiny body still trembled.
Kiriko Miyamoto knelt down, holding Airi's hand tightly.
"Yes, they're here to save us. We have to follow their instructions, okay? Stay close to me."
Although still wary of the unfamiliar soldiers, the women and children were far more afraid of the horde of zombies closing in on them. Guided by the Medics, they began boarding the Colony Ship one by one, leaving the nightmare behind.
Kiriko stood tall amidst the panicked survivors. Her eyes fixed on the massive colony ship as its creaking doors slowly swung wide open. Under the bright daylight, her tired face revealed a strong resolve to protect everyone around her.
At the frontline, Terran marines gripped their rifles tightly.
The sound of gunfire echoed through the daylight chaos—
Tak-tak-tak! Tak-tak-tak!
Bullets tore through the horde of the undead, mowing them down one by one.
"Sir, we're running low on ammo!" a marine shouted over the chaos.
The officer turned sharply.
"You two, grab that ammo crate and head to the front—now! We hold this line!"
Boots thundered across the ground as soldiers rushed through smoke and the stench of death.
Overhead, the Vikings roared, shifting into ground mode. Their plasma shots screamed through the air—
DZZZAP! DZZZAP! DZZZAP!
Precision strikes ripped through the zombie ranks, buying precious time.
Minutes stretched into hours. The tension only grew heavier.
After two relentless hours, a medic approached the marine commander, her face resolute beneath the white armor.
"Sir, the civilians are secured inside the colony ship."
The officer didn't hesitate.
"Alright, boys! Fall back to the medivacs! Grab your gear—we're lifting off!"
One by one, the Terran marines pulled back, retreating from the bloodied battlefield now littered with corpses.
Medivac engines roared to life, rising into the sky behind the colony ship, their flight path heading toward the safety of Haneda Airport in Tokyo.