Not long after, at the Detention Sector of the Investigation Bureau Tower, frontline base—
The four Ghost operatives were being held in a specially reinforced cell. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all constructed from some unknown alloy, etched with Chinese characters they couldn't understand, each glowing faintly with golden light.
Their hostile-environment adaptive combat suits had long been stripped away, replaced by loose-fitting orange prison uniforms. Around their wrists and ankles were psionic-inhibitor shackles, completely severing their connection to even the faintest flow of psionic energy.
One male operative sat in a corner, back against the cold wall, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers along the inside of the shackle's frigid metal.
His gaze swept over the other three in the cell before settling on the blonde female operative.
"What do you think they're going to do to us, Nova?" he asked in a low voice.
The blonde female operative raised her head. The small wound beneath her left eye had already scabbed over, but still throbbed faintly.
"They'll definitely try to convert us, Stone," she said softly but with unmistakable certainty. "They won't execute us outright—our value is far too high. Ghost intel, tactical protocols, even our genetic samples—any one of them would be a resource worth studying."
The male Ghost, Stone, furrowed his brow even tighter, his knuckles whitening.
"Then we can't let them get what they want."
"Of course not." Nova Terra's gaze sharpened like a blade. "No matter what happens, we remain loyal. We do not yield."
Her tone was calm, but carried a fierce resolve.
Loyalty had long since been seared into the bones of Ghost operatives during training. Not even death would make them betray the Dominion.
Unless... the Dominion betrayed them first.
Just then—
Shhh—!
The cell door slid open, the sound harsh and jarring in the enclosed space.
The four Ghosts instantly tensed, their nerves coiled like springs, muscle memory snapping them into combat readiness in an instant.
No words. No hesitation. They exploded into motion at once!
Nova's pupils shrank as her body launched forward like a pouncing leopard, zeroing in on the blurred silhouette standing in the doorway.
Their instinct was simple: take down the "guard," seize the key, remove the inhibitors, and take back control!
Stone followed close behind, his right fist primed to strike the throat.
The other two operatives flanked from either side, cutting off any escape.
Their coordination was flawless. Not even the most elite Marines could escape such a sudden ambush.
However—
THUD—THUD—!
Muffled impacts exploded in rapid succession.
Nova didn't even see what hit her—an unstoppable force slammed into her abdomen, sending pain like electricity ripping through her body. Her vision twisted, and her body flew like a broken kite, slamming into the wall and crumpling to the floor.
Stone's punch was caught mid-air. His wrist was clamped by something, then twisted at an unnatural angle. A sharp crack signaled a clean break.
He let out a muffled grunt. A sweeping kick struck his knee, dropping him to the ground. His forehead smashed into the metal floor.
The remaining two fared no better.
One took a brutal elbow to the back of the neck and passed out instantly. The other was pinned by an unseen force, unable to move an inch.
The entire sequence lasted less than three seconds.
Nova's breathing was ragged, her throat filled with the taste of blood. She struggled to lift her head, trying to see the attacker's face—but her vision blurred from the damage, revealing only a towering silhouette standing in the doorway, looking down at them from above.
As her focus sharpened, Nova's eyes widened.
This was not the "guard" she had imagined.
Not a soldier. Not one of the Astartes mentioned in intel. Not anything she had encountered before.
Two towering figures clad in ancient Greek-style heavy armor loomed in the doorway. Corinthian helmets fully concealed their faces, save for eye-like lenses that glowed with cold, golden light.
Their armor was covered in intricate war engravings, and ancient Greek inscriptions adorned their pauldrons. Even in the dim light, faint psionic energy shimmered across their bodies.
"This... isn't possible."
Stone gritted his teeth, trying to rise, his broken arm hanging limply.
As Ghosts, they had faced the Terran Dominion's finest and stood toe-to-toe with Protoss zealots. But the presence before them radiated a completely different kind of pressure—
It was the killing intent forged in millennia of war. The dignity refined across eons.
These two beings—no, these demigods—shared no words between them.
One stepped forward, effortlessly lifting the unconscious operatives with a hand each, like pets.
The other stopped in front of Nova, golden visors flickering slightly, seemingly evaluating her condition.
"Who... what are you?" Nova forced the question through clenched teeth.
The demigod gave no reply.
When his armored hand reached for her, Nova instinctively tried to resist—only to realize her body wouldn't move.
Not psionic suppression. Just pure biological fear.
Like a lamb frozen before a tiger.
She could feel it: the hand that now held her had once crushed beings far stronger than her without mercy.
The two demigods carried all four operatives out of the cell.
As they passed through the Investigation Bureau Tower's steel corridors, Nova glimpsed the frontline base through reinforced windows—
Another jungle of metal and concrete. In a nearby plaza, giants clad in golden power armor were drilling new recruits.
But the most eye-catching sight was the colossal space gate at the heart of the base, piercing the clouds like a divine spire.
"That's..." Stone rasped, his broken arm swaying uselessly.
"…"
No one could answer him.
Soon, as they stepped outside, the bright sunlight forced Nova to squint.
Before anyone could react, the demigods carried them straight toward a nearby train platform.
A sleek maglev train stood waiting.
"This... doesn't make sense," one of the Ghosts muttered after regaining consciousness, struggling futilely. "Where's the interrogation? The torture? The good cop, bad cop routine?"
Nova shared his confusion.
She'd been trained in counter-interrogation and knew all the standard procedures.
But this? This broke every rule.
No interrogation room. No instruments of pain. Not even extra guards. Just these two silent demigods—and a train heading to who-knows-where.
Typically, capturing even one Ghost would prompt total lockdown. Their combat prowess and psionic capabilities were enough to turn a fortified base into rubble.
After boarding, the demigods tossed them into seats and stood to either side, motionless as statues.
Moments later, the train began moving. Scenery blurred rapidly outside the windows.
Nova struggled upright. Through the arched glass, she watched the Investigation Bureau Tower shrink behind them—and the massive space gate grow closer and closer.
As they approached the mirror-like gate, the air inside the car became unnaturally still, as though some invisible force was pressing down on them.
When the train pierced the threshold, the world was instantly flooded with blinding—but gentle—white light.
In that pure whiteness, Nova felt a gnawing emptiness.
As if all her ties to the universe had been severed. Her psionic sense went dead. Even spatial orientation vanished. It was a hundred times more terrifying than any inhibitor—as if her very existence had been erased for a moment.
Stone and the others felt the same.
With strong psionics, Ghosts were especially vulnerable to the "whiplash" of leaving their native universe for the first time.
Only after their vision returned did their breathing stabilize.
But what awaited them outside the window took their breath away all over again.
A scene beyond anything they had ever imagined—
First were the space gates—
Dozens of towering structures stood at the edge of their view, like celestial pillars arranged in a perfect ring, each likely connecting to a different universe.
Between them was a complex but precise transportation network.
Countless maglev lines crisscrossed at exact angles, forming a three-dimensional transit grid.
Nova saw innumerable trains—silver-white for passengers, olive-green for freight—racing across the tracks.
Farther out, transports buzzed through dedicated air lanes, landing at pads beside space gates, ferrying people and goods across mirror-like portals.
"How many worlds are there..." Stone whispered, voice dry and cracked.
"…"
Nova didn't answer.
Her eyes were drawn to the endless palace complex surrounding the gates.
Gleaming golden structures, their architecture based on Chinese imperial design, yet interwoven with motifs from other civilizations.
The train pressed deeper into this breathtaking super-hub.
Nova noticed that every gate had an armed checkpoint, guarded by giants clad in golden power armor—larger even than the Astartes she had seen before.
Eventually, the train stopped near a central palace cluster.
The doors slid open without a sound.
But this time, the demigods didn't need to act—the four Ghosts rose of their own accord. The sheer pressure compelled obedience.
As they stepped off the train, Nova's breath caught.
Athena—the one who had flattened them—was exiting the next car.
But unlike the bar encounter, the Goddess of War now held an infant wrapped in a soft white swaddle, only a few wisps of black hair visible.
Her golden gaze swept over the four of them—deep, unreadable.
She gently adjusted the child in her arms. For the briefest moment, a tenderness crossed her stern face—only to vanish as her gaze returned to them, sending shivers down Nova's spine.
"Follow me," Athena's voice echoed directly in their minds. "Eyes forward."
In silence, the four followed, passing through a corridor paved with what looked like golden light.
To the right stood towering stone pillars, each carved with totems of various civilizations. Twin torches atop each burned with golden flame that never dimmed.
Through the gaps between pillars, one could see the palace grounds and space gate nexus in all their glory.
On the left wall, massive murals chronicled human history and the birth of the Empire.
One depicted Earth's first space fleet clashing with the Reaper civilization (Independence Day). Another showed the purging of corrupted Olympian gods, and others illustrated battles on Prosperous Star against chaos tides.
Each scene was vivid and alive.
At the corridor's end stood a ten-meter-tall gate.
The doors bore the Empire's dragon crest. On either side stood golden-armored Imperial Guards, towering over three meters tall, wielding lightning halberds crackling with dangerous arcs.
Athena approached with the infant.
The guards instantly snapped to salute, halberds crossing, then parting as the gate opened to reveal blinding golden light.
Without looking back, Athena gave a command: "Wait here."
She vanished beyond the doors.
Once the gates closed again, the invisible pressure faded.
The Ghosts stood in a vast corridor, behind them a hall of human epics, before them a sealed divine gate—anxiety spreading in the silence.
Behind that door lay the Meditation Hall of the Golden Throne.
Inside—
"Your Majesty."
Athena stepped into the hall, her white gown trailing softly across the polished floor.
Her steps were light yet solemn. She stopped ten paces before the golden throne.
Then, she knelt on one knee—left arm holding the swaddled infant, right arm crossed over her chest, head bowed in reverence.
On the throne, Samuel Young lifted his gaze.
He wore no regal robes—just a plain black longcoat. Yet his presence radiated authority.
Seeing her kneel, he raised a hand in gesture.
"No need for ceremony," he said.
His voice was low but carried effortlessly through the hall.
As his words fell, he rose from the throne and descended the steps.
Athena stood, still holding the child with steady hands.
Samuel drew closer, his eyes resting on the swaddle. A trace of rare softness flickered in his stern brow.
He extended a hand, hesitated a moment just before touching the cloth—then took the child from the Goddess of War.
The infant that, by all accounts... appeared to be his own flesh and blood.
(End of Chapter)
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