Capítulo 48: Chapter 15: Ave Imperator pt 1
-M2. Earth. Japan-
The world was gripped by chaos and tension beyond description. The announcement of the Emperor of Mankind's imminent visit to the Zalvus Gate country sent shockwaves across the globe, throwing all into a frenzy. It mattered not one's background—scientist, conspirator, politician, or citizen of any standing—the Emperor's arrival for a meeting with world leaders at the UN was unprecedented.
Prime Minister Motoi felt the weight of this immense burden pressing down on him, aging him beyond his years. Upon receiving the crucial message from Ollanius, he swiftly instructed his cabinet to coordinate their responses and organize the event.
He sensed time slipping away rapidly, the pressure mounting with each passing moment. A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"You may enter," Motoi replied, regaining his composure.
Rei stepped in, carrying a document. "My apologies for the interruption, sir. Here are the files you requested."
"Place them on my desk," Motoi instructed, masking his fatigue.
As Rei complied, Motoi noticed the aquila symbol, sighing involuntarily. "What are their demands this time?"
"Nothing too complex, sir. It's a summary of their previous documents," Rei replied, prompting Motoi to sink into his chair.
"Ishikawa, what do you make of the Imperium?" Motoi asked, feeling the weight of the world upon him.
Rei paused, then took a seat as gestured by Motoi. After a moment of contemplation, she began to speak.
"According to Lord Ollanius, the Imperium appears to be... from our current understanding, a dogmatic state," Rei explained cautiously.
"Dogmatic? Can you explain that further, Ishikawa?" Motoi asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. To him, the Imperium seemed like a powerhouse capable of emulating the divine and even surpassing them. Describing such a formidable entity as dogmatic appeared contradictory.
"You should be familiar with the Imperial truth, sir, the ideology that serves as the guiding principle for all in the Imperium. To me, it transcends mere ideology; the Imperial Truth carries the weight of a pseudo-religion," Rei explained thoughtfully, her words measured. "It rejects all forms of gods and deities, yet employs language and concepts reminiscent of religious doctrine—heretics, heresy, excommunication, among others. According to Lord Ollanius's accounts, every citizen of the Imperium clings fervently to the Imperial Truth, integrating it into every aspect of their lives. Furthermore, it's revealed that the Imperial Truth is not just an ideology but a meticulously crafted guidebook authored by the Emperor of Mankind and the High Lords."
"A guidebook?" Motoi's headache threatened to intensify.
"Yes. Lord Ollanius claims to have seen the original text of the Imperial Truth within the Imperial Palace. He mentioned that the versions disseminated to the masses are merely fragments, with the complete text gradually unveiled in accordance with the Empire's development. Surprisingly, each addition seamlessly complements the preceding material, fostering societal cohesion within the Imperium," Rei elucidated, maintaining her steady gaze on Motoi.
Motoi lapsed into silence, grappling with the implications of Rei's revelations. The notion she presented seemed implausible—a meticulously orchestrated plan of such magnitude executed flawlessly by an institution defied conventional understanding.
"Somehow it reminds me of a religion here on Earth," Rei murmured with a tone just above a whisper, her thoughts drifting to distant parallels.
"Ishikawa? Is there something you'd like to add?" Motoi inquired, catching the diplomat's quiet utterance.
"It's nothing, sir. I was just mumbling to myself," Rei hastily replied, eager to deflect further scrutiny.
The Prime Minister simply nodded, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in his eyes. However, before the silence could settle again, the shrill ring of the room's phone shattered the calm. Motoi swiftly picked it up.
"Prime Minister here," he announced.
"Mr. Prime Minister, President Dirrel is coming earlier than expected. He'll be arriving here in one hour," the urgent voice on the other end relayed.
"Alright. I'll get prepared," Motoi responded briskly, ending the call with a decisive click. "Looks like it's going to be a very long day."
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Motoi sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the impending meeting with the President of the United States settling upon him like a dense fog. Standing in the hall designated for their encounter, he couldn't shake the sense of tension hanging thickly in the air, even before President Dirrel had arrived.
As the door swung open, Motoi's gaze immediately fell upon the familiar figure of the blond-haired President striding towards him.
"Ah, Mr. Motoi. It's been a while since we last met in person," Dirrel greeted, extending his hand for a handshake.
"Pleasure to meet you as well, President Dirrel," Motoi responded with a polite smile, though the weariness etched on his features betrayed the strain of recent events.
Seated across from each other, the atmosphere grew palpably tense, with Dirrel adopting a more serious demeanor.
"So, Dirrel. What do you want to talk about?" Motoi broached the topic bluntly, cutting straight to the chase.
"Isn't it obvious? Of course, about this so-called Imperium and Emperor of Mankind," Dirrel replied sharply, his expression hardening as he delved into the heart of the matter.
"Didn't I provide you with the documents?" Motoi countered, a note of exasperation creeping into his voice.
"Do you expect me to believe all of that?" Dirrel shot back instantly, his skepticism evident in his tone. "Sure, I can buy into a nation with god-like abilities, capable of achieving extraordinary feats. But superhumans with powers akin to demigods, ruled by an emperor who controls all of humanity? That's just nonsense."
Motoi anticipated this response from the President, his resolve hardening as he prepared to defend his nation's honor. He knew that convincing Dirrel would be an uphill battle, especially given America's historical skepticism towards perceived adversaries.
"All my diplomats and soldiers are proud of their nationality, Dirrel. Therefore, it would be a grave mistake for me not to trust them," Motoi asserted firmly, his gaze unwavering as he met the President's eyes head-on.
Dirrel fell silent for a moment, taken aback by Motoi's steadfast conviction. It was a rare sight to witness the Prime Minister standing his ground so resolutely, especially in the face of opposition from the President of the United States.
The tension in the room reached a boiling point, with both Dirrel and Motoi locked in a standoff, each trying to maintain their composure despite the mounting pressure. However, beneath Dirrel's usual facade of confidence, Motoi detected subtle cracks, giving him the advantage in their exchange.
"Very well then, Motoi. I'll trust you," Dirrel conceded, though his tone remained sharp, unwilling to fully relinquish control of the conversation.
But before the atmosphere could ease, Dirrel swiftly shifted the topic, attempting to regain his footing by probing into sensitive territory.
"Oh, by the way, I know you're aware of the presence of CIA agents in Japan. I'm curious if they're leaving Japan," Dirrel taunted, a smirk playing on his lips as he sought to unsettle the Prime Minister.
Motoi maintained his calm demeanor, refusing to be baited by Dirrel's tactics. "I can assure you there are no CIA agents in Japan, whether they're coming in or going out," he replied evenly, his voice carrying an air of authority. Then, with a hint of amusement, he added, "If you want, I can provide you with the data."
Dirrel's response was a subtle display of frustration, evident in the slight clenching of his jaw. "Very well then. Let me see the document then," he demanded, his tone laced with defiance.
Unbeknownst to the two leaders, Lothens, the silent observer, stood vigilantly nearby, his presence a constant reminder of the intricate web of manipulation and surveillance woven by the Imperium.
"A hasty and arrogant move," Lothens interjected coldly, directing a pointed glance at Dirrel. "Truly reflects the leadership of a nation in decline and decay."
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-Japanese Research Centre-
Yuuki Konno, once hailed as a prodigy in the field of science, now found herself humbled before the enigmatic technology laid out before her. Despite her numerous accolades and prestigious achievements, the intricate design of the sword presented a challenge that surpassed anything she had encountered before.
As she studied the scans and blueprints provided by her colleagues, Yuuki's astonishment grew with each passing moment. What appeared to be a mere ceremonial artifact at first glance revealed itself to be a feat of unparalleled mechanical and physics engineering. The complexity of its design left her feeling dwarfed, her understanding of the universe reduced to a mere drop in the vast ocean of knowledge.
The sword possessed a field capable of disrupting molecular bonds with precision, turning even the toughest materials into malleable substances. Yet, Yuuki couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to uncover beneath its impossibly intricate structure. However, her physical limitations confined her exploration to the surface, leaving her yearning for answers beyond her reach.
A soft cough escaped her lips, a reminder of her frailty. Yuuki glanced down at her wheelchair-bound form, her once vibrant body now confined to the confines of the chair. With a resigned sigh, she adjusted the beanie covering her hairless head.
"Yuuki, are you there?" The familiar voice drew closer, and Yuuki couldn't help but smile.
"I'm here, Asuka," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of warmth. Soon after, her best friend, a slender brunette, entered the room.
"Geez...Why do you always push yourself so hard, Yuuki? You need to rest," Asuka scolded lightly, her expression a mix of concern and affection.
Yuuki chuckled softly at Asuka's pouting. "I'm sorry. I just had to double-check the report you gave me."
"Haaah... At least mind yourself first," Asuka huffed, moving closer to Yuuki's wheelchair. "Let me take you to your room."
"Thank you, Asuka," Yuuki said gratefully, shutting down her laptop and gathering her belongings. Together, they left the room and made their way down the corridor.
"I have to ask, Yuuki. Why do you keep pushing yourself to help us? Your health should be your priority," Asuka questioned, her gaze fixed on her friend.
Yuuki fell silent for a moment, contemplating her response. "You got the point. But before the Imperium's arrival, I had nothing to live for, no hope of survival. When I heard about them and their generosity toward the Saderan, I found a new sense of purpose. That's why I'm determined to unlock the secrets of that sword, to get their attention."
Asuka's expression softened, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Yuuki..."
"I've heard they'll be here soon, I have no much time left," Yuuki continued, her voice tinged with determination and a hint of desperation.
"Well, then I won't rest until we crack the code!" Asuka declared with her usual enthusiasm, eliciting a smile from Yuuki.
"I appreciate that, Asuka. Let's get to work," Yuuki said, her chuckle filled with a mix of determination and gratitude.
"Absolutely!" Asuka replied, matching her friend's resolve with unwavering determination of her own.
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-M29. Falmart. JSDF Base-
General Hazama found himself unable to sleep in the past few nights. The weight of responsibility on his shoulders pressed down relentlessly as he worked tirelessly to ensure the success of his new order. The impending arrival of the Imperium only added to the urgency; what was initially meant to allow him a few days to prepare now demanded his immediate attention.
"Tomorrow, huh," Yanagida remarked, his eyes fixed on the document before him.
Hazama sighed, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him. "What are your thoughts on our current preparations, Yanagida?"
Yanagida considered for a moment before responding, his voice steady despite the fatigue evident in his posture. "I'd say we're quite adequate for hosting a noble welcome party."
Hazama attempted to inject a touch of levity into the somber atmosphere. "Unusual to see you looking as tired as I feel, Yanagida."
A small smile tugged at Yanagida's lips. "Likewise, General. It seems the gravity of the situation affects us all."
"Indeed," Hazama replied softly, letting out a small sigh.
The military men slumped back into their respective seats, exhaustion evident in every line of their faces. Hazama felt the weight of his most troubling thoughts pressing down on him, stirring unease in the pit of his stomach.
"Yanagida, what are your thoughts on this individual, this Emperor of Mankind?" Hazama asked, his gaze fixed on some distant point within himself.
As Hazama listened to Yanagida's thoughtful analysis, he found himself drawn into deeper contemplation. "From what Itami has conveyed in his report and from my observations of the people of Italica, I can only conclude that the Emperor of Mankind is a... unique figure."
Intrigued, Hazama leaned in. "Could you elaborate on that?"
Yanagida paused, carefully choosing his words. "It's just a simple conclusion, General. I mean, a form of government like an empire is an ancient and inefficient bureaucratic form to govern a galaxy-spanning state. So, it's possible that the Imperium has an extraordinarily efficient system of governance, or this Emperor is truly able to be a central figure and govern the Imperium with his own power," Yanagida concluded, although there were some signs of doubt in his statement.
Hazama considered Yanagida's words, recalling the report given by Itami and the sincerity in his expression when discussing the Emperor. "Perhaps you're right, the Emperor of Mankind may indeed be a figure beyond our comprehension," Hazama mused.
"Perhaps so extraordinary that he becomes a different entity from the species he leads," he remarked, his gaze sharpening. "It's ironic to think of his title as the Master of Mankind."
Hazama's tone turned stern. "I hope you can keep your opinion to yourself, Yanagida."
"Of course, forgive me, sir," Yanagida complied, removing his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps we can only obtain the answers when he comes here."
Hazama nodded slowly, his eyes shifting outside where his troops were diligently preparing for the arrival of their distinguished guest.
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-At dawn-
As they awaited the promised moment, tension hung heavy in the air, palpable and electrifying. Under the directive of the Prime Minister, Hazama had marshaled every resource at his disposal to ensure the success of this pivotal event. With meticulous planning and unwavering determination, they had set everything in motion, and now, they only needed to wait for the long-awaited arrival.
Itami could feel the tension coursing through his muscles, his anticipation mounting with each passing moment. He had a clear picture in his mind of the magnificence of the Emperor of Mankind, and now, he would soon lay eyes upon the ethereal figure himself once again.
"Feeling excited?" Kurata's voice broke through Itami's thoughts, pulling him momentarily from his reverie.
Itami chuckled wryly at his subordinate's question. "You could say that,"
"I can't blame you, sir," Kurata admitted, his smile faint but genuine. "When we meet the Emperor for the first time... it's like something fundamentally shifts within you."
Itami nodded, letting Kurata's words sink in. He too had felt that profound transformation upon meeting the Emperor, a moment that had left an indelible mark on his soul. As memories of that encounter flooded his mind, Itami couldn't help but reflect on the profound impact it had had on him and those around him.
Itami felt a profound sense of transformation within himself, a spiritual evolution that seemed to have been catalyzed by his encounter with the Emperor. Reconciling with his ex-wife, finding newfound focus and clarity, and making peace with his past were just the beginning. It was as if every aspect of his being had been elevated to a higher plane, bathed in the Emperor's radiant light.
"I hope that everyone on Earth can experience this divine illumination in its true form," Itami mused, his voice tinged with a mixture of hope and apprehension. "But I'm also aware of the risks that accompany such enlightenment."
Despite his typically laid-back demeanor and occasional negligence in his duties, Itami couldn't ignore the looming implications of what lay ahead. The fracture of Earth, the rise of countless factions driven by their own agendas, and the deepening divisions among humanity—all of these were possibilities that troubled him deeply.
Yet, amidst the uncertainty, Itami found solace in his trust in the Emperor. He believed that the Emperor, with his unparalleled wisdom and foresight, had already seen the paths that lay ahead. All Itami needed to do was to place his faith in the Emperor's guidance and continue to walk the path illuminated by his light.
As the brilliant flash of white illuminated the surroundings, Itami and his companion were jolted from their thoughts, sensing a shift in the very fabric of reality.
"They have come," Itami declared, his voice carrying a weight that echoed through the air.
In the aftermath of the dazzling light, a single figure emerged before the JSDF base, clad in black robes adorned with the golden Aquila—the unmistakable symbol of the Imperium. Itami immediately recognized the man as Colt Formal, herald of the Emperor of Mankind.
"Greetings, people of Earth," Colt Formal's voice rang out with authority, its resonance seemingly unaffected by distance or space. "I am Colt Formal, emissary of His Majesty, Augustus Imperator, Emperor of Mankind. I hereby declare his intention to descend upon his throne in order to execute this prominent duty, which is to create a bridge of understanding between our civilizations. By thus, His Majesty shall arrive!"
With Colt Formal's proclamation, the air itself seemed to shimmer with an array of vibrant colors, like an explosion of light heralding the imminent arrival of the Emperor and his servants.
As the brilliant light faded, the JSDF beheld a sight that defied all expectations. Emerging from the dissipating glow were figures of regal bearing, exuding an aura of noble authority that set them apart from mere mortals. These individuals, while human in appearance, bore the dignified presence of kings and rulers, their attire adorned with symbols of wealth and power. Yet, it was the ornate swords at their waists that truly captivated the onlookers, emanating an unmistakable sense of authority and command.
But the spectacle did not end there. Another surge of light shattered the veil of reality once more, revealing towering figures clad in sleek black-jet armor. These were the Solar Guardians, beings of immense stature and power, unlike any seen before. Their armor, intricately adorned with golden lines and ornamental details with a L symbol on their is the most prominent one, spoke of a sophistication and strength far beyond that of Captain Raias and his team. With a presence more akin to machines than men, the Solar Guardians exuded an air of formidable prowess, their imposing nano armor serving as a testament to their immense physical capabilities compared to a normal Solar Guardian.
Another eruption of golden brilliance enveloped the group, heralding the arrival of ethereal warriors. From the radiant light emerged the Magistratus, their golden armor akin to that of General Agral, yet marked by distinct differences. Surrounding them was an ethereal glow, a shimmering aura that rendered them simultaneously invisible and visible. Agral's transhuman aura, once contained, now surged forth in its truest manifestation.
In stark contrast to the previous luminescence, a new light shimmered with a strange, otherworldly silver hue, resonating with powers beyond mortal comprehension. Within this luminance materialized figures that commanded immediate reverence. They were warriors of silver, surpassing even the Magistratus in stature and might. Clad in armor that seemed more a work of arcane artistry than a tool of war, their very presence spoke of mastery over both destruction and creation. To the JSDF, they were unmistakable: Astartes.
But it was the last group that seized the JSDF's unwavering attention—a cadre of golden warriors. Their hue radiated purity unmatched, eclipsing even the Magistratus in brilliance. Their golden aura gleamed with unmatched authenticity, illuminating the surroundings with an intensity that surpassed all before them. As they materialized, their presence commanded authority and supremacy, surpassing any other beings present. Towering over even the loftiest Astartes, these golden warriors exuded an aura of power that eclipsed that of the Magistratus, rendering their once-golden hue akin to bronze in comparison to the newcomers' resplendent brilliance.
"A hundred Custodes..." Itami breathed in awe. Though he had glimpsed the Prime Custodes during his brief sojourn in the Imperial Palace and Victoria Aurea, never before had he beheld them in such formidable numbers.
A palpable tension gripped the air, intensified for Itami and his team, who had stood face-to-face with the Emperor himself. An impending presence loomed, heralding the arrival of a being that transcended all others—a master among masters.
"Here he comes," Itami murmured.
Unlike before, this descent was gentle, yet the colossal presence remained undeniable. Amidst the Custodes' impeccable formation, a lone figure stood, towering above them all in resplendent golden armor. As the figure addressed the Japanese, his voice resonated not only through the air but through the very essence of their beings—a voice that spoke to their souls.
"Greetings, honored Japanese," the figure proclaimed. "I am the Emperor of Mankind. I have come to fulfill my promise to your world, seeking to forge a bond between Old Earth and Terra in the name of humanity."
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AN: my apologies for my very late update. My computer got some troubles and need to be repaired, so my apologies for taking to long. But I hope this chapter will heal that wound of waiting
Status de energia semanal
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Poder 
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Poder