From Titan Corporation to the Empire of Man

Chapter 637 "Sleep, children, you need to rediscover the whole world and the universe."

Seventy-two hours later.

The new town of Ma Sara has been completely transformed.

The starlight shines through the atmosphere, gilding the towering metal jungle with a golden edge.

Twelve massive apartment buildings, each over a kilometer tall, have been completed, their honeycomb-like windows glowing with soft light.

These modularly constructed apartments all feature state-of-the-art ecological recycling systems, with each unit equipped with an independent air purification device.

In Central Park, children from Agriya and Meinhof are running and laughing on the newly built football field, their laughter mingling with the sound of the fountains.

At the edge of the park, several elderly people sat on smart benches, with a holographic chessboard slowly rotating between them.

On the streets of the commercial district, billboards played promotional videos for "The Code of Humanity" on a loop, showing Athena explaining civil rights to children.

Workers in imperial uniforms had just finished their shifts and were walking in twos and threes into a restaurant with a sign that read "Earth Flavors".

Through the shop window, you can see chefs stirring dishes in a wok, while the waiters are elves, tiraks, and other creatures from other universes.

In a bookstore on the street corner, several young people are gathered around a holographic bookshelf, browsing literary works from the main universe.

Meanwhile, in near-Earth orbit, three majestic fleets hovered silently—

The Imperial Fist's golden warships were arranged in a strict square formation, their bow cannons gleaming in the sunlight.

The Blood Angels' crimson bow is adorned with exquisite skeletal reliefs, and the missile silos on the sides are being inspected.
The dark gray ships of the Raven Guard are scattered like shadows at various strategic points, their camouflage devices making their hulls appear and disappear in the starlight.

At the ground base, auxiliary forces from the three legions are conducting joint exercises with the Flame Lizards.

Clad in golden titanium armor, the Imperial Fist is instructing the Rangers on how to operate the new weapon, meticulously correcting every detail of their movements.

At the makeshift medical station, pharmacists from the Holy Blood Angels provided genetic diagnosis and treatment to local residents, their silver syringes gleaming coldly under the lights.

Meanwhile, the Raven Guard's scouts have completed a detailed topographical mapping of Mar-Sala, equipped with quantum radar capable of penetrating kilometer-thick rock layers.

at the same time--

"This desolate place doesn't even have a decent brothel."

In a corner of a bar in the new town, Tychus Finley propped his feet, clad in military boots, on a solid wood table, the soles of his boots leaving several noticeable scratches on the surface.

The cigar in his hand was half-burned, and the grayish-white smoke formed a constantly changing "cloud" above his head.

On the table sat a bottle of whiskey fresh from the ice bucket. The amber liquid gleamed enticingly under the light, while the ice cubes in the bucket clinked and tinkled as he shook it.

"What else can we do besides these decent drinks and cigars?" Tychus grumbled, but still poured himself another full glass.

His thick fingers gripped the rim of the glass, the calluses on his knuckles rubbing against the crystal glass, making a soft rustling sound.

Jim Reynolds silently gulped down a large mouthful of strong liquor, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with each swallow.

The alcohol burned my esophagus, but it couldn't dispel the gloom in my heart.

His gaze traveled through the bar's floor-to-ceiling windows and landed on the distant monument—where the names of all those who died in the Battle of Mar-sala would be engraved.

Tychus suddenly leaned closer, and the ash from his cigar fell onto Jim's leather cuff, burning several small scorch marks.

"Listen, Jimmy," the muscular man whispered, his whiskey-smelling breath hitting Jim's face, "Three-legged toads are hard to find, but two-legged women are plentiful, aren't they?"

His thick fingers swept across the table, pointing to the female elf waitress who was mixing drinks. "Look at that girl's ass, it's way more exciting than Kerrigan's damn bug tail."

Jim's knuckles suddenly turned white, and the glass in his hand made a "crackling" sound as it succumbed to the weight, with several small cracks spreading across the glass.

The ranger commander's temples throbbed as the image of that purple figure turning back for the last time flashed before his eyes.

“You don’t understand.” He finally spoke, his voice hoarse like sandpaper, his lips trembling slightly from the alcohol and suppressed emotions.

"Ha!" Tychus slammed his hand on the table, making the bottles and glasses jump, startling several Ranger recruits near the bar who nearly fell off their bar stools.

"I know it all too well!" Tychus tilted his head back and gulped down a large mouthful of wine, glistening on his beard. "Back when I hadn't even met you yet."

While Tychus was talking eloquently, several figures invisible to the naked eye silently entered the bar.

The figures were completely transparent under the dim lights of the bar, revealing no outline whatsoever.

However, judging from their silhouettes, they appear to be wearing nanotech combat suits similar to those worn by the Investigation Department's special operations team, but much thinner—

They lacked the muscular definition characteristic of nanosuits, and the genetically modified, muscular physiques of special operations teams.

These figures move like reflections in water, sometimes distorted, sometimes clear, as if they would vanish into thin air at any moment.

Tychus was getting into the swing of things, gesturing with his thick fingers in the air about a "wonderful past event," when he suddenly stopped.

The hairs on the back of the man's neck stood on end for no reason. A chill ran down his spine as if he were being watched by a venomous snake. Years of battlefield intuition made him instinctively reach for his sidearm at his waist, but he stopped before he touched the handle, because Jim's eyes stopped him.

Their eyes met briefly in the air, and they reached a consensus without saying a word.

Tychus pretended to continue drinking, but in reality, he had already adjusted his posture, ready to launch an attack at any moment; Jim's right hand seemed to be casually resting on the table, but in fact, it was only three centimeters away from his personal revolver.

Just as tensions were about to rise, the bar's automatic doors slid open silently.

A figure in pristine white stepped into the room, her ancient Greek-style dress remaining spotless amidst the smoky air of the bar.

Athena's long golden hair, like flowing sunlight, swayed gently with her steps.

? !
The noise in the bar suddenly stopped, and several workers who were drinking stared wide-eyed, unaware that their glasses had slipped from their fingers.

Although Athena frequently appears on holographic screens and in churches explaining the Code of Man to a group of teenagers, witnessing the goddess up close is still very novel and shocking for the locals of the StarCraft universe.

“This…” a new Ranger recruit stammered, “isn’t this the goddess of war?”

Athena gently raised her hand, and pale golden psychic energy rippled from her fingertips.

The civilians present suddenly became unfocused, and as if sleepwalking, they got up from their seats and walked towards the door in an orderly fashion.

In less than thirty seconds, only Tychus, Jim, and a few dumbfounded Ranger recruits remained in the bar.

"Gentlemen." Athena's eyes suddenly flashed with dazzling golden light as she stared directly at the "air" in the corner of the bar, and said:
"Stop hiding it."

Her voice resonated with a power that transcended the laws of physics: “From the moment you stepped into Mar-sala, we knew of your existence.”

Whoosh—whoosh—!

As soon as Athena finished speaking, several suppressed gunshots broke the silence.

A large-caliber sniper bullet came from the corner, heading straight for Athena's temple, followed by several more shots aimed at her heart, throat, and abdomen. Buzz—buzz—!

A pale golden psionic barrier appeared out of thin air along the bullet's trajectory.

Like an insect trapped in amber, the bullet stopped and spun ten centimeters from Athena's skin before finally turning into dust.

Tiny metal shavings drifted in the air, shimmering faintly under the bar's lights.

Athena shook her head with a slightly helpless expression and casually waved her left hand.

boom--!
An invisible psychic pulse swept across the entire bar.

The glasses on the bar shattered simultaneously, and the liquor condensed in the air into countless suspended amber droplets.

The "figures" hidden in the shadows were directly struck by the invisible "giant hammer," and were all blasted out of their stealth state.

Thud—Thud—!
Several figures crashed through the wooden booths, scattering fragments everywhere. One of the better-built guys slammed into the bar, shattering the rare wines on the shelf. The last one was sent flying backward, leaving a spiderweb-like crack on the wall before sliding to the ground.

Athena's golden eyes swept over the disheveled figures, she sighed softly, and teased:

Why suffer?

As the aftershocks of the psionic shock dissipated, the scene inside the bar finally came into focus.

The four attackers wore tattered nanotech suits that flickered with unstable optical camouflage, sometimes revealing light gray, form-fitting suits, and sometimes appearing completely transparent.

Jim and Tychus stood up almost simultaneously.

“Ghost agents of the Terran Empire.” Jim’s voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, his right hand already holding his personal revolver. “What is their purpose here?”

The so-called Ghost Agents are a group of elite warriors in the StarCraft universe who possess remarkable psionic talent and are quite skilled in using psionic abilities.

In this universe, humans classify psychic abilities into ten levels.

The psychic energy level of ordinary humans is between 0 and 2, while individuals with higher intelligence may reach 2 to 3, such as scientists.

Secondly, there are sensitive individuals, those at level 3 and above who can sense the psychic energy of others and possess basic control abilities.

Levels 3 to 5 can control the thoughts of low-level psionic beings, or use "telekinesis" to retrieve and move objects remotely, and also possess telepathy.

Level 8 and above are considered to pose a considerable degree of danger, and may cause harm due to loss of control. They need to be strictly monitored to prevent loss of control.

Level 5 and above are eligible to be selected as Ghost Agents, responsible for carrying out high-risk missions.

As for Sarah Kerrigan, whom Jim Raynor longed for, she was an agent with level 10 psionic abilities before being captured and assimilated by the Zerg.
Of course, Sarah Kerrigan's limit isn't level 10; it's just that the human standard only defines level 10.
Sha. Sha.
Just then, a rustling sound came from the bar area.

The slenderest figure shook her head, her golden ponytail swaying with her movement.

She ripped off the shattered mask, revealing a delicate and pretty face, but a small scar remained below her left eye due to the damaged mask.

The female ghost agent moved cleanly and efficiently, throwing the bent and deformed large-caliber sniper rifle to the ground, the metal barrel making a crisp sound as it struck the floor.

Her gaze first fell on Jim, a hint of conflict flashing in her eyes. Clearly, the Ghost Agents' target was Jim Raynor, but she quickly turned her attention to Athena.

When she saw the true face of this "Goddess of War," her expression became extremely solemn. It seemed that the high command of the Terran Empire had never revealed to them that the human empire possessed such a being before sending them to Mar-Sara on their mission.

So from the moment they set foot on Mar-la, regardless of the mission's content or objectives, their fate was sealed: failure.

"Damn it," she muttered, her voice filled with barely concealed shock.

The next second, her figure suddenly blurred.

With the nanosuit operating at full power, he shot towards Athena like an arrow released from a bow.

Her right fist whistled through the air as it aimed straight for Athena's throat, while her left knee rose simultaneously, aiming for her abdomen. This was a standard deadly combo from a Ghost Agent, enough to instantly incapacitate a Marine wearing CMC power armor.

Bang-!
Two attacks capable of piercing steel plates struck their targets squarely, yet they didn't even cause Athena's clothes to flutter.

The female agent's pupils contracted sharply.

A piercing pain shot through her finger bones, as if she had struck not flesh and blood, but an unshakeable rock.

The shockwave from the knee caused the entire leg to go numb instantly, and the nano-combat suit's cushioning system issued an overload alarm.

She staggered and looked up, meeting Athena's eyes, which flowed with liquid gold—

There was no shock or anger like that of mortals when struck, no contempt of the strong for ants, only a chilling calm, like a star “watching” the dust that tries to shake it, or the deep sea “gazing” at the struggling plankton.

“According to your universe’s rating system,” Athena’s voice was like ice water dripping into crystal, each syllable resonating, “you must possess level ten psionic power.”

As she spoke, Athena raised her left hand, a strand of golden hair twirling around her fingertip. "In the Koprulu Sector, this is indeed something to be proud of."

!

The female agent suddenly took three steps back, and her eyes emitted a blinding blue light, causing the surrounding air to vibrate at a high frequency due to the psionic fluctuations.

The remaining shards of glass on the bar floated up, spinning and accelerating in the spiritual energy field, refracting countless distorted beams of light and shadow.

The bottles and jars in the wine cabinet shook violently, and a large number of bottles suddenly exploded, with the amber-colored liquid freezing into dangerous icicles in the air.

Tychus suddenly grabbed Jim and pulled him back: "Damn it! This girl is going to tear the whole bar apart!"

The suspended glass shards began to emit a sharp buzzing sound, the frequency increasing until it reached a certain critical point—

Athena's figure suddenly blurred.

It's not invisibility; it's simply that its speed exceeds the limits of what ordinary human vision can capture.

The female agent only saw a strand of golden hair flash past the edge of her vision, and the next second, a sharp pain shot through her carotid artery.

"Uh!"

A sharp pain, like lightning, struck my entire body.

She was horrified to discover that her psychic powers were dissipating, like a thin mist in the sunlight.

The suspended glass shards clattered and fell to the ground, the wine ice cones shattered into sparkling waves, black tides began to rise at the edge of vision, and the roar of blood rushing to the eardrums filled the air.

In the final moments before her consciousness sank into the abyss, Athena's voice rang out once more:

"Sleep, children, you need to rediscover the world and the universe."

(End of this chapter)