[Oliver’s PoV]

  The world reformed around them in a flash.

  Oliver and his Hoplites hit the ground almost at the same time. The familiar sound of the teleportation station filled the air.

  “We’re back,” Oliver thought, finally feeling at home.

  The station was as he remembered it. Perched outside the city’s perimeter.

  In the past, this would have been the moment he adjusted his mask and removed the voice modulator. Ensure every detail of his disguise as the Governor was perfect before stepping into public view.

  But not today.

  There was no need for masks anymore.

  The truth was out.

  He ascended the stairway leading out of the station. His Hoplites followed two steps behind.

  The city opened before him, Aquarius.

  It was alive.

  Even after six months, it looked unchanged and thriving.

  Drones darted between the buildings like swarms of insects, their sensor arrays flashing as they carried goods across the city. Hovercrafts glided through lanes. High above, massive transport vessels cruised toward orbital ports.

  The air buzzed with energy and movement. Voices, machinery, the faint echo of advertisements projected on holo-screens that lined the streets.

  As Oliver made his way through the streets, the crowd parted instinctively. The Hoplites flanking him drew attention.

  The civilians whispered as he passed, their curiosity piqued.

  “Is he someone important?” one woman murmured, clutching a data-slate to her chest as she watched them go by.

  “Maybe a diplomat,” another guessed. “Or a VIP from one of the Great Houses. Look at those escorts.”

  Oliver caught fragments of their words as he walked, but he didn’t react.

  They didn’t recognize him.

  Not as the Governor. Not as Atlas. Not even as Oliver.

  To them, he was just another mystery, a figure escorted by elite soldiers through the streets of Aquarius.

  That suited him just fine.

  The doors to the Headquarters slid open with a whisper of hydraulics. The moment Oliver stepped forward, his biometric signature was automatically recognized.

  “Welcome back, Governor,” the system chimed in its neutral tone.

  The sound drew the attention of the few officers scattered across the hall. They froze mid-motion, their eyes snapping toward him.

  Then one of them, a lieutenant, stepped forward hesitantly.

  “Sir? Where’s your mask?”

  Oliver felt every gaze in the room tighten on him. He exhaled, his voice calm yet weary.

  “It’s gone,” he said simply. “My identity’s been compromised. They know who I am.”

  The words hit the room like a shockwave. A few officers exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions flickering between disbelief and understanding.

  They all knew what that meant.

  The mask had been more than a disguise. It was a safeguard between Oliver and the Empire. Without it, his anonymity was gone. Once the news spread, it would reach the Imperial channels within hours at most.

  The whispers started almost immediately, low voices rippling through the hall like static.

  Oliver ignored them.

  “Where’s Talos?” he asked, scanning the lobby. “Why is the station so empty?”

  An older officer approached. He did a fast salute before answering.

  “Sir, most personnel are out in the field. We’re running a war-scale operation in the inner sector. It's best if you go to the Communication Center.”

  Oliver nodded. “Understood.”

  The officer hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but duty pulled him back. He gave a curt nod and hurried off, barking orders into his comm as he disappeared into one of the side corridors.

  Oliver turned to his Hoplites, who had remained by the entrance. They stood at attention, awaiting his command.

  “Stand down,” Oliver said, his tone softer now. “You’re dismissed. Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

  The three soldiers nodded. Without another word, they turned and made their way toward the barracks wing.

  Oliver took a moment to prepare himself.

  The fatigue hit him all at once. Six months lost in the distortion of the Tower. Now, back in the heart of civilization, the air felt too normal.

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  He stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut behind him.

  The communications floor was the only part of the spire that still felt alive. The rest of the building was quiet, its corridors eerily empty. Yet here the air buzzed with urgency.

  Officers moved in and out of the chamber in a constant stream. The glow of screens bathed the room in a pale blue light, painting every face with the same weary determination.

  Oliver stepped through the doorway without hesitation.

  The moment he entered, the room seemed to freeze. Conversations halted. Heads turned. A few of the younger officers stared, wide-eyed, before snapping back to their work. Recognition spread like a ripple through the room.

  “Give me a summary,” Oliver said, his tone calm but commanding.

  “Governor,” Hermes-1 said, his voice steady as he saluted. “Good to have you back, sir.”

  Oliver nodded once. “Good to be back. It’s been a long six months, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hermes-1, the division commander, gestured toward the central console. Holographic maps flared to life, displaying a sprawling network of systems and colonies. Red markers blinked across the star charts like open wounds.

  “Two months ago,” Hermes-1 began, “the Orks launched a full-scale offensive. They’ve broken through multiple defense lines. Our fleets have been forced into retreat across the sectors.”

  He tapped a command, and the hologram zoomed in on a cluster of worlds, the Sol system, the heart of human civilization.

  “With the Republic of Enceladus leaderless, the Yorks distracted searching for Princess Katherine, and our own forces spread too thin, the Orks exploited the gap.”

  Oliver’s jaw tightened. “How bad is it?”

  Hermes-1’s expression darkened. “Bad, sir. They’re advancing without restraint. Casualties mean nothing to them. They’ll throw a thousand ships into a single battle if it means moving one meter closer to our core worlds.”

  The hologram flickered again, now showing Earth. Its orbit was littered with debris fields and shattered stations. Red icons blinked across the globe, marking cities that had fallen.

  “They’ve reached Earth,” Hermes-1 said grimly. “Several of our orbital stations have been destroyed. They’ve established teleportation relays on the surface.”

  Oliver’s stomach turned. “They got direct access to our cities.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hermes-1 confirmed. “They’ve taken several population centers. We’ve lost communication with New York, Washington, and other parts of the North American sector.”

  The hologram zoomed in again, showing a glowing red pulse over the continent.

  “Chicago, sir. The last report indicated a full-scale incursion. We’ve had no contact since.”

  Oliver’s fists clenched at his sides.

  “So we’re in the worst possible position,” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” Hermes-1 replied, his tone grim.

  Another officer, Hermes-2, spoke up from a nearby console.

  “Most of our remaining forces were positioned around Luna and Mars. We assumed the Orks would target them first, to build a relay station. We didn’t expect them to hit Earth directly.”

  Oliver shook his head, exhaling slowly. It was too much, too fast.

  He stopped by the edge of the main display, his reflection flickering in the holographic light.

  'At this rate,' he thought, 'they’ll burn the planet to ash. Or go after the Emperor himself.'

  “Inform the others that I’m back. Prepare a full report on who’s still on defense, check which divisions are mobile, and summon the Numbers. I want them ready. Tell them all other missions are suspended.”

  Oliver’s voice cut through the noise of the communications room like a blade.

  The Hermes operators snapped to attention, their hands flying across their consoles as they relayed orders through the network of command channels.

  “Sir!”

  Hermes-3 raised a hand. “The Daedalus Division is requesting a direct line with you. They say it’s urgent, they’re ready to report on their progress.”

  “Now?” Oliver frowned. His schedule was already overflowing. “Tell me it can wait.”

  Hermes-3 shook his head. “They insist, sir. Some of the prototypes have already been deployed in the field. They say it’s critical.”

  Oliver sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Tell them I’m coming down.”

  He turned on his heel and left the communications floor, the doors sliding shut behind him with a hiss.

  The elevator carried him deep into the heart of the Headquarters. Into the Daedalus Floor, the sprawling complex dedicated to research, engineering, and weapons development.

  When the doors opened, the familiar hum of machinery greeted him. But something was different.

  The labs were empty.

  The desks, once cluttered with holo-screens and schematics, were deserted. The usual chatter of scientists and engineers was gone. Instead, a low, rhythmic thunder echoed through the corridors, the unmistakable sound of heavy machinery at work.

  Oliver followed it.

  The deeper he went, the louder it became. Grinding metal, sparking welds, the roar of engines being tested. The air was thick with the smell of oil and molten steel.

  When he reached the hangar, the scale of it hit him. It was chaos.

  Rows upon rows of mechas, gunships, and assault vehicles. Massive cranes swung overhead, moving armor plating the size of walls. Sparks rained from welding torches as technicians worked frantically to bring everything online.

  “Mecha X812, ready for deployment!” someone shouted from above.

  “Decommission Raptor-107!” another voice replied. “Strip it for parts, everything else goes to recycling!”

  Oliver moved through the hangar. The noise was deafening, but he didn’t stop.

  The Daedalus engineers were everywhere, their white suits streaked with grease and soot, shouting over one another as they worked around the clock.

  But it wasn’t until he reached the far end of the hangar, the restricted research bay, that he found what he was looking for.

  The corridor leading to the private lab of Daedalus-1 and Daedalus-2 was half-lit, the walls lined with half-finished prototypes and disassembled mechas. The two lead engineers were the only ones allowed to work here, and whatever they were building was always above clearance.

  Yet, as Oliver approached, the floor shook.

  A deep, concussive boom rippled through the structure, followed by a shockwave that almost knocked Oliver off his feet.

  It didn’t come from above.

  It came from ahead.

  “What the hell—”

  He broke into a run, sprinting down toward the source. The smell of smoke hit him.

  As he rounded the corner, he found the two engineers, Daedalus-1 and Daedalus-2, amid a haze of smoke and sparks.

  They were laughing.

  The explosion had blackened the walls, scattered debris across the floor, and filled the air with the hiss of cooling metal. However, the two scientists were embracing each other, grinning ear to ear.

  “Holy shit, it worked!” Daedalus-2 whooped, clapping his partner on the back. “It actually worked!”

  “Oh—uh, pardon my language, sir.” Daedalus-2 turned serious as he saw Oliver at the door.

  Daedalus-1 straightened immediately, brushing soot off his lab coat and trying to look composed.

  Oliver stepped forward, scanning the ruined lab. The walls were scorched, the lights flickered, and in the center of the room hung the charred frame of a mecha, suspended by thick cables.

  “What exactly are we celebrating?” Oliver asked, his tone cautious.

  Daedalus-1’s grin didn’t falter. “We did it, sir. It’s complete.”

  Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “What is?”

  Daedalus-2’s smile widened, almost manic. “Everything.”

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