Beep—!
Shrill alarm sirens rang out in succession. Red warning lights flashed across the hangars, flight decks, and above the bridge, stabbing at everyone's nerves.
Across every section of the ship, over the public broadcast system and the communications channels of the entire fleet's crew, the electronic synthesized voice of the battleship's central system echoed repeatedly:
"All departments prepare for impact. A stellar storm is imminent. I repeat..."
"Energy shields deploying. Void shield arrays charging to maximum capacity..."
As Selene ceased her assault, the destruction she had wrought was now presented in even starker clarity before every member of the Imperial Navy's mixed fleet.
"No matter how many times we witness Her Majesty's power, it is always enough to inspire trembling awe and reverence."
On the bridge, the frontline directors of the Imperial Forge and the Imperial Science Bureau spoke in heartfelt admiration as they gazed upon the planet effortlessly crushed by the Empress—and the magnificent spectacle of stellar eruption that followed.
After the grand army had officially set out, Selene had split forces from Budo, Konrad Curze, and Angron.
They led the main forces of their respective Astartes Legions, naturally assuming responsibility for the conquest of the Milky Way.
Meanwhile, Selene led another detachment—composed of one division each from the Retributors, Night Lords, and World Eaters—alongside special departments such as the Imperial Forge and the Imperial Science Bureau, forming a mixed fleet that headed toward the outskirts of the galaxy, bound for the homeland of the "Creator"—the Precursors—in the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds.
There were two objectives.
First, to see whether more of the Precursors' technological legacy could be found in their birthplace—and forcibly claimed.
Second, to eradicate every Flood organism within the entirety of the Magellanic Clouds.
Within the Milky Way, aside from a few ring installations that had once been invaded during the Forerunner–Flood war and might still harbor residual Flood, the remaining Flood forces had already been cleansed by the Forerunners.
The only places where Flood might still exist were the star regions between the Milky Way and the Large and Small Magellanic Clouds—and the Magellanic Clouds themselves.
After all, the Large Magellanic Cloud was the homeland of the Precursors, and also the battlefield where the "filial sons"—the Forerunners—had stabbed their "father," the Precursors. Countless Precursors had "died" there.
No one could determine how the Forerunners had nearly exterminated the Precursors without significant losses. But it was an undeniable fact that from the corpses of the Precursors, the earliest Flood spores had been born and evolved.
Based on this judgment, Selene decided to handle the matter personally—to completely resolve this tangled, age-old mess between the Precursors and the Flood once and for all.
It wasn't that she distrusted Budo and the others' combat strength... well, all right, she did distrust their ability somewhat.
Winning against or repelling an incoming Flood force was not difficult. Budo and their respective Astartes Legions could manage that.
But to completely eradicate the Flood? They truly did not possess that capability. They simply could not accomplish it.
RUMBLE—!
Even the Astartes warriors who had followed Selene from the Imperial heartland for the longest time were plunged into prolonged shock at this exaggerated spectacle, let alone the auxiliary forces.
As for the Servitor Army regiments—and a small number of alien warriors—they had already taken it as a divine miracle. Hearing about something and witnessing it with one's own eyes were entirely different concepts. So too were the destructive yields of weapons and the might of an individual.
Clang~ clang~
On a certain special mothership deck, a group of detained "guests" stared blankly at the scene.
Though their hands and feet were bound, it did not prevent them from dropping to their knees one after another. From their mandibles split into four parts, they muttered in the Covenant's official language, as though offering repentance.
They were none other than the Covenant's military leadership caste—the Sangheili.
They were trophies of the Astartes reconnaissance forces dispatched by Budo. The forward scout ships that had penetrated deep into enemy territory were not limited to the direction of Madrigal alone.
On the deck, however, the Sangheili were few in number. The overwhelming majority were a race of "dwarfish" beings less than a meter tall, swaying as they walked, each carrying enormous methane tanks upon their backs and wearing breathing masks.
Seeing their commanding leaders kneel stiffly to the ground and murmur in apparent repentance, these already-terrified "little folk," shaken by the sight of a planetary system's destruction, also dropped to their knees in succession.
Unggoy—also known as Grunts or methane-breathers. The reason they were here was naturally the handiwork of the reconnaissance forces as well.
As for why there were no other common Covenant races present—such as the Jiralhanae (Brutes) or the Kig-Yar (Jackals)—the answer was simple.
They had been dealt with.
Through soul-searching, these two alien species—both of which had committed large-scale acts of cannibalism after the Covenant went to war with the Unified Earth Government—were promptly marked with a bold "X."
After learning the composition and history of the Covenant, however, the Empire held a different view regarding the ugly Unggoy.
The Unggoy were the most numerous and lowest-ranking species within the Covenant. They had only just entered their own Iron Age when the Covenant discovered them.
Faced with coercion, the Unggoy had no choice but to accept induction into the Covenant, lest they face extinction. After joining, their entire history was erased, and they were essentially reduced to a slave race occupying the very bottom of Covenant society.
As the lowest stratum of the Covenant, the Unggoy's cowardice and incompetence were infamous. They had long maintained fierce conflicts with the equally low-ranked Kig-Yar.
Through the aggregation of soul-search intelligence gathered from the memories of various Covenant alien races, the Empire's intelligence department uncovered an interesting piece of information.
The Covenant capital—the interstellar mobile city known as High Charity—had once experienced a large-scale rebellion. And the protagonists of that uprising had been the unassuming Unggoy.
Because of their extraordinarily high birthrate, the Unggoy rapidly encroached upon the living space of the Kig-Yar. The Covenant's upper echelons turned a blind eye to the situation. Some Kig-Yar took matters into their own hands, secretly adding a fertility-reducing toxin into the hallucinogenic substances favored by the Unggoy.
When the matter was exposed, the Covenant leadership merely attempted to smooth things over between the two sides, with no intention of pursuing it further. This completely enraged the Unggoy, ultimately igniting a rebellion within High Charity.
The Kig-Yar were utterly suppressed. Even the Sangheili elite sent to quell the uprising were temporarily held at bay. At one point, the Unggoy seized control of the entire Lower City of the Covenant capital, forcing the High Prophet Council to dispatch Zealots to suppress the rebellion.
(PS: Zealot is the highest temporary religious rank within the Covenant.)
Although the rebellion was ultimately crushed, the Unggoy proved they were not as weak as imagined. When honest folk erupt in anger, the consequences are terrifying.
After this incident, the Unggoy finally received serious consideration. The Covenant's leadership officially permitted a select portion of screened Unggoy to join Covenant combat units.
In the Empire's view, were these not oppressed lower-class rebels forced into servitude?
Mm. An excellent choice for establishing a model among alien races.
Their individual capabilities were weak, but their numbers were vast, and their desires modest. Give them a few "dates," and they were easily satisfied.
"What are they saying?" An Astartes warrior assigned to monitor the alien prisoners whispered over the internal comm channel.
"Seems like they're muttering that the Great Journey was a mistake, that the San'Shyuum deceived us, something along those lines... Ah! By the God-Empress! Look over there—Her Majesty has contained the energy of the stellar explosion!"
Vooooom—!
Selene's finger lifted slightly. The scattered Subspace Lances pierced into every corner of the planetary system. As Honkai energy surged into them, the very veins of the surrounding cosmos began to glow with an ominous violet-crimson radiance.
A resplendent Imaginary Claw, shimmering with violet-red light, expanded in an instant to the size of the entire star.
Selene closed her hand slightly.
The expanding ring of stellar fire, spreading at near-light speed, was frozen mid-propagation as though shackled by invisible chains. No matter how violently the stellar energies erupted within—how chaotically fusion reactions fluctuated—they could not advance even a fraction of an inch.
Under Strong Nuclear Force Manipulation, the reactions were rapidly consumed and neutralized.
Gazing at the planetary system she had utterly annihilated, feeling its brilliance dim into silence, Selene withdrew the energy sustaining the Imaginary confinement field.
Destruction was always easier than creation. Planets required billions of years to form—but annihilation required only a moment.
"Haa..." Watching the silent, darkened starfield, Selene exhaled softly. The warm-up was over. After releasing her energy so freely, both body and mind felt invigorated.
This small planetary system was not much different in scale from the Solar System. To transport it intact—without loss, disturbance, or collateral impact—would leave her feeling weary. But destruction? Ruin? Selene felt she could continue for ten thousand years.
Her drive overflowed. Not the slightest trace of fatigue touched her.
Releasing the desire for destruction was beneficial to one's mental health.
The pleasure of trampling, tearing apart, and annihilating beautiful things—truly—it left Selene incomparably refreshed.
Suppressing her destructive impulses for so long... honestly, she felt rather proud of her restraint.
Crack... crack...
Magnificent cascades of energy-particle sparks drifted outward. Planetary remnants, melted by extreme heat into crystalline glass, slowly dispersed, staining the surrounding void in intertwined hues of red and white—brilliantly resplendent.
Selene reached out and summoned a planet fragment the size of a human body. The irregular crystal glittered dazzlingly within the afterglow of destruction.
Any jeweler from the world of Earth would recognize at a glance that the crystal in Selene's hand was genuine diamond—astonishing in purity and unprecedented in size. Moreover, it was an exceedingly rare red diamond.
With sufficient hype, publicity, and packaging, it would become yet another sky-priced, "diamond of the century," destined to be remembered forever.
"A diamond..."
Diamonds were valuable—yet worthless.
On the market and in advertisements, diamonds always appeared more valuable than gold. Yet why did central banks not hoard diamonds? Why were national currencies not pegged to them?
There was, of course, a reason.
Clang!
"Your repentance—I have received it. This is your reward."
In a flash, Selene appeared upon the mothership's flight deck. The human-sized red diamond crashed directly before the Sangheili who had been muttering to himself.
"My Goddess... You have truly forgiven... the sins of my people..."
Trembling, the Sangheili raised his head. In his eyes reflected disbelief and fear as he gazed upon the God-Empress before him.
Like the San'Shyuum, the Sangheili revered the Forerunner civilization as divine.
This shared faith had been the fundamental reason for the Covenant's founding. In its earliest days, the Covenant had not possessed its later complexities. It had simply been a military alliance between the two races.
The legal, cultural, and religious legitimacy of the Covenant—the Great Journey—was entirely founded upon reverence and worship of the Forerunners.
The "Prophets," the San'Shyuum, had used the activation of the Forerunners' Halo rings and the promise of the Great Journey as the Covenant's central creed. By monopolizing the interpretation of religious doctrine, they achieved absolute control over the Covenant and secured their dominion.
Selene's appearance—and her overwhelming might—had delivered an unparalleled shock to the Sangheili.
Naturally, ancient myths from their homeworld surfaced in their minds. The physical traits of their so-called gods—the Forerunners—combined with such overwhelming power...
But above all, it was power itself that mattered. After all, Selene's fist was larger.
"A goddess? You mean the Forerunners?"
Selene narrowed her eyes. "Regrettably, I am not. In that case—are you Sangheili still willing to submit?"
In that instant, the Sangheili felt a bone-chilling cold surge from all directions, sweeping through his body and slowly draining away his warmth.
"My people..."
"No need to answer in haste. There is plenty of time. Think carefully."
Snap!
With a mere thought from Selene, the chains binding all the Sangheili prisoners' hands and feet fell away instantly, clattering across the deck.
Standing amidst them, Selene continued, "When I have eradicated the San'Shyuum and the Jiralhanae, you may decide then."
"Take them away."
"Yes!"
Watching the dazed Sangheili prisoners being led off, Selene let out a soft laugh.
A forced melon is never sweet?
Ridiculous. Whether one is thirsty is another matter entirely. Selene simply enjoyed the act of forcing it. Besides... one could always add sugar.
"Any discoveries from the other fleets sent out?" Selene asked.
"Your Majesty, seven sub-fleets have reported findings. Among them, the Fourth and Sixth Sub-Fleets, which entered the Large Magellanic Cloud in advance, request authorization to initiate Exterminatus."
"Approved. Issue the order—advance. Destination: the Large Magellanic Cloud. Conduct a sweeping purge."
"Yes!"
...
Large Magellanic Cloud, near the boundary adjacent to the Milky Way.
On each planet that had just endured orbital bombardment,
The smell of charring and a strange scent reminiscent of roasted flesh lingered in the air. Residual flames still burned stubbornly across the mountain ranges.
Bang!
"Command says not a single experimental sample is to be retained? Total extermination?"
Beside a drop-assault craft that had just deployed, an auxiliary trooper in light power armor kicked aside a charred, carbonized tree trunk. Beneath it lay layered heaps of unidentifiable matter, still burning.
Whatever these things had once been, they were now unrecognizable—half-carbonized.
"That's right. The moment those bugs are detected—what were they called? Flood, yes—Exterminatus is to be carried out immediately. Not a single spore is to remain... Wait. Eleven o'clock direction—movement! Stay alert!"
"Roar—!"