The Imperial agents had done more than merely whisper promises—they had secured an unshakable foothold within the Empire. Tyuule had watched as their schemes spread like creeping vines through the halls of power, meticulously planted and nurtured until the seeds of war sprouted all around her. The time for reaping drew near.
The Imperium's influence over the Saderan Empire was undeniable. Their doctrines had seeped into the minds of the people like slow-acting poison, reshaping loyalties without fanfare. Princess Pina had orchestrated countless secret meetings between Imperium nobles and her own allies, weaving an underground alliance against the crown prince.
Yet Zorzal, blind to the tightening noose, played directly into their hands. He took the bait of his sister's provocations, gathering his own faction from among the lords—unaware that many had been carefully selected by Imperial spies. The ranks of warmongers in his inner circle swelled, ensuring the flames of conflict would burn ever higher. All that remained was for Tyuule to ignite the inferno.
Her gaze fell upon the small bottle resting on her table. Inside, death waited.
Tonight, the Emperor of Sadera would host a grand feast, an event arranged under the guise of diplomacy but meticulously curated by Imperial agents. Every guest, every servant, every morsel served had been chosen to ensure the plan unfolded without disruption.
Tyuule took the poison first. The bitter draught burned her throat, but she swallowed it without hesitation. Then, steeling herself, she made her way to Zorzal's chambers.
The prince was drunk, his face flushed with wine and fury. The scent of sweat, sex, and spilled liquor clung thickly to the air. Tyuule's sensitive nose wrinkled as she stepped inside, her eyes immediately drawn to the unconscious figure slumped beside the bed—a young Japanese girl, one of the many taken as slaves during the Empire's invasion.
Noriko.
The name came to Tyuule unbidden. This girl, like so many others, had been swept into the grand design, a mere pawn in a game played by forces beyond her comprehension. A flicker of pity stirred in Tyuule's chest, but she smothered it quickly. The game demanded sacrifice.
"Tyuule! Come here!" Zorzal's voice was a drunken snarl.
She obeyed, her movements deliberate. With practiced ease, she loosened her garments, letting them slip from her shoulders as she approached. The prince seized her the moment she was within reach, his lips crashing against hers with bruising force. She allowed it, allowed everything—his hands, his teeth, the way he dragged her to the bed as if she were nothing more than a thing to be used.
The night stretched on, an endless cycle of violence and release. Tyuule endured it all, her face a mask of feigned devotion, her mind detached. Hours later, when Zorzal finally collapsed beside her, spent and sweating, she lay against his chest, listening to the ragged rhythm of his breath.
"Pina..." Zorzal muttered, his voice thick with venom. "I'll make her pay."
"Of course, my prince," Tyuule murmured, tracing idle circles on his skin. "But your father... he remains an obstacle."
Zorzal's jaw clenched. "That old fool. He stands in the way of my ascension."
She watched the hatred simmering behind his eyes, the way it twisted his features into something ugly and raw. It was almost too easy.
"If he were removed," she whispered, her voice a silken blade, "you could take your rightful place. And then... your sister would kneel before you."
"How!" Zorzal roared, and in his anger, his brute hand slapped the bunny warrior.
Tyuule flinched, yet the smile was still there, persisting with her will. She stared back at the burning hatred of the prince. The wound in his pride is palpable. It was too wide to be recognized, while it was also vulnerable to any form of provocations.
"Spit upon who defiled you, my prince. In the coming week, the Imperium and Japan will arrive. That's your moment." Tyuule whispered softly. "When the time comes, poison your father. It will make you the emperor.
Because of that party, you can frame the Imperium and Japan to be responsible for your father's death."
Zorzal's spirit raised considerably as his grin widened in malice.
"Great idea!" Zorzal roared, his body stiffened with stamina. "I will ensure those invaders pay!"
"Yes, my prince. You will earn your birthright." She replied with a smile, hiding the truth beneath sincerity.
_______________________________________________________________
-Prometheus Arcology-
Raias read the letter on his table with varying degrees of emotion. The war was coming, and it was common knowledge among the Guardians. He stared in front of him, turning on his Holovid. Data streams entered his brain as his transhuman capability concluded in a mere second.
Despite lacking a few major details, Raias can see all. It was a trap to lure the enemy.
Then, he heard a sound from his door. Raias took his helmet. The UI appears before his eyes, and with it, the Guardian scans the Noosphere around his room, creating a ghost image of those behind the steel door.
A Guardian in size, a man in sex. Yet, from the facial shape, it was easy for him to deduce who it was.
"Come in," Raias said neutrally. The door melted into millions of nanometals, revealing the man behind it. It was Gax with his unreadable expression. Despite the massive amount of time spent with him, Raias finds himself in a hard situation to decypher his friend's demeanor.
The younger Solar Guardian rose to his feet, giving him a salute in the form of Aquila on his chest.
"Sir." Raias greeted formally.
"At ease, Raias. I just want to talk." Gax said politely. With a mental command, the room manifested another seat using its Omniphages.
"What do you want to talk about, Gax?" Raias asked bluntly.
"Before we focus on the elephant in the room, Let's talk about your recent progress with the princess." His superior asked casually, earning a raised brow from Raias.
"She is on our side, fanatically, if I must say." Raias used his Noosphere to send another command to the room. A small maintenance drone ejected from the ceiling before using its mecha dendrite to operate a tube-like device at the corner of the room. Using the Imperium's mastery over matter and thousands of years of food industrialization evolution, it is finally capable of making complex drinks to its molecular composition. Then, cups filled with clear liquid were presented to the transhumans.
"Have a drink, Gax," Raias said before opening a small part of his helmet to drink.
"Very well, Raias." The Major drinks his own. "A carbonated water with the taste of fruits. I never got used to your taste."
"Bear with it," Raias replied with a small smirk. "My words earlier. Princess Pina is in our course. All cards have been thrown to the table, and she still had her hands full."
"So her brothers and father are that foolish," Gax said in amusement. He drank the water until it was nearly empty.
"Yep. The incoming civil war would also leave our hands clean." Raias chuckled dryly before taking a sip. "Let me guess, the operation would require me to become the highlight."
"That is the thing I want to address, my friend." Gax pulled a small tablet from his skin suit. "Plug it in."
Raias obliged, inserting it into the holovid behind him. Instantly, streams of data are displayed in the vids. The Captain used his Noosphere to gain a connection with the data.
It was a maze of plans, founded by dozens of contingencies to make up into a single grand plan, that is, the coup in Saderan court during the gala event.
"Wicked," Raias said with a dry tone.
"Your reaction is mine, Raias." Gax chuckled in amusement.
"How about the Old Earth?" Raias asked before returning to his seat with a tablet in his hand.
"Lord Malcador's agents would deal with that. What we need to do is how to decapitate Saderan Empire as quickly as possible. It was an easy task until you read the last part of the document." His voice grow in uneasiness, filled with the weight of grief.
"The fact this world is Warp contaminated and possible Daemonic incursion?"
Raias said with a grim acknowledgement.
"If that is the case, it would fall into the Silver Order's responsibility. But, I heard no one from their rank."
Gax said with a heavy voice. The older Solar Guardian's eyes flickered for a moment, indicating he delved deeper into his bionic brain to make the calculations. Then, he stared back at the younger one.
"What did you see in the void?" He asked slowly.
"I saw nothing initially until the so-called god gave me a certain view," Raias stated, his uncertainty tainting his tone.
"What?" Gax asked. His eyes narrowed.
"I saw other worlds linked with the chaotic sea of Warp. Those worlds would eat to each other here." He replied with a cryptic voice as his eyes slowly drifted away from reality, burrowing deeper into his own senses.
"War is coming, but unlike anything we had faced before. I am sure the Lucifer Black will make their move."
When he mentioned that specific faction, the entire room's temperature dropped massively. Lucifer Black, or the Black, is a special division of Solar Guardian, specifically to guard the Imperial Palace. They are more of a machine than human, made from countless genetic purification and modifications to become the apex of the Guardian.
They are part of the Emperor's Talons; when they are involved, the unspoken happens. They are the Emperor's tool for annihilation.
"Regardless, what we can do best is prepare." Then, a noise of unread messages appeared in his Noosphere.
"I concur." Gax said, drawing a sigh. "However, Raias. If everything went south. Would you take the initiation?"
When he heard that, the younger Solar Guardian froze in deep contemplation. The message he received and Gax's question stirred something buried deep inside.
"I... Don't know." Raias answered slowly. His eyes darted away from the Colonel.
Gax looks at his friend with an intrigued look. Despite the helmet, he can see what lies beneath. "What in your mind?"
Raias falls into silence, which continues for several minutes. Yet Gax's gaze is unwavering. Before the older Guardian raises another question, Raias takes a deep sigh that breaks the silence stance.
"Give me a moment until the order came for my ascension." He stated plainly, devoid of any resistance.
"The world is not fair, I guess." Raias dryly noted, taking the last sip of his drink.
"It never was, my friend." Gax laughed wholeheartedly.
Raias falls into silence, which continues for several minutes. Yet Gax's gaze is unwavering. Before the older Guardian raises another question, Raias takes a deep sigh that breaks the silence stance.
"Give me a moment until the order came for my ascension." He stated plainly, devoid of any resistance.
"The world is not fair, I guess." Raias dryly noted, taking the last sip of his drink.
"It never was, my friend." Gax laughed wholeheartedly.
The masked man laughed, and soon, his superior followed. Then, an alarm rang across the room.
"It's time, huh," Raias said neutrally. "Shall we go, sir?"
"I know you are smirking, Raias."
____________________________________________________________________
-The Assembly Hall-
"Attention, Guardians!" His command instantly focused every transhuman warrior present. Raias' enhanced perception swept across the assembly in a millisecond assessment - only the crimson-trimmed battleplate of Captain-ranked Solar Guardians and higher stood arrayed before the hololith projector. The absence of junior officers spoke volumes; this would be no routine deployment, but a major combat operation.
"Today I will detail the next operational phase," Agral continued, his augmented vocal cords projecting effortlessly. "The Saderans have extended an invitation to what they call a peacemaking feast. Their sincerity becomes clear when you observe this." With a neural command, the holovids shifted to display grainy surveillance footage - the perspective suggesting it originated from some small reconnaissance device positioned on a rooftop near the Senate building. For three heartbeats, the dome stood pristine against the skyline. Then a missile streaked into frame and the entire structure disintegrated in a fireball that momentarily washed out the feed.
Colonel Gax's retinal lenses whirred as they focused on the aftermath. "This incident serves as our justification, Lord General?" His tone remained carefully neutral, though his sharpened gaze betrayed keen interest.
"Precisely," Agral confirmed. "This Japanese provocation has given Princess Pina the leverage to arrange negotiations with us. Meanwhile, our embedded agents within Prince Zorzal's inner circle have signaled their readiness." A palpable shift moved through the assembled warriors as the implications settled over them.
One of the Colonels stepped forward slightly. "Are we to understand this means full-scale invasion?"
Agral's lips formed what might have been called a smile by someone who hadn't seen Astartes wage war. "That term may be excessive. But yes, we will commence offensive operations against Saderan territories." With a gesture, the display expanded to show the entire Falmart continent, dozens of tactical markers blinking into existence. Simultaneously, data-streams flooded the Noosphere - casualty projections, supply requirements, and engagement protocols flowing directly into the warriors' enhanced minds, their transhuman intellects immediately synthesizing the information into comprehensive battle plans.
"Our primary targets," Agral continued, "will be the slaver cities in both southern and northern regions. While the feast occupies imperial leadership, we will dismantle their underground networks. This will require coordination with the assassins."
The mention of assassins provoked subtle but noticeable reactions - the faintest tightening of gauntlets, minute shifts in stance. Though none voiced objection, the Guardians' distaste for such shadow operations was evident, even as they acknowledged their necessity.
"Now," Agral declared, "we will establish absolute dominance over this world." What followed was an exhaustive tactical briefing - deployment patterns, logistics chains, and engagement protocols refined to razor precision. Every variable accounted for, every contingency planned. The operation's thoroughness bordered on artistry.
Yet one element gave pause. "Lord General," a Guardian inquired after the main briefing concluded, "what operational role does the Falchion serve?"
"We will melt the mountain and reduce this fortress to slag," Agral declared, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability. "Its ashes will fall into Colonel Gax's hands. I expect nothing less than perfection, Colonel."
A ripple of unease spread through the strategium. The Guardians exchanged barely perceptible glances - deploying the Falchion against primitive fortifications bordered dangerously close to violating First Contact protocols. Yet the unspoken understanding remained: if executed precisely, they could exploit the technicalities, turning transgression into tactical advantage.
For seventeen minutes and thirty-six seconds exactly, Agral methodically presented the battle projections - thousands of data points streaming through the Noosphere, each variable calculated to three decimal places. Finally, the General's gaze locked onto Raias with machine precision.
"Your squad has been designated as Princess Pina's personal guard detail," Agral stated, his voice allowing no room for debate. "You will serve as the primary catalyst for escalation. Your orders are to steer the Princess along her predetermined path without deviation." A neural command sent classified protocols flashing into Raias' private Noosphere feed. "Upon conclusion of this briefing, you will immediate teleport to the Saderan Palace and brief your team."
"Understood," Raias acknowledged, the data already integrating with his tactical awareness.
Now only the final pieces needed to fall into place. Zorzal would play his hand - this much was certain. The Japanese response would follow predictably, especially with the assassins' unseen hands guiding events. All that remained was to watch the dominoes tumble.