From Titan Corporation to the Empire of Man

Chapter 657 "Greater than your father's 'achievements' in his entire life."

Char's destruction left only a very faint "scar" in the universe.

The planetary debris, which was originally in a harsh environment, has now begun to transform into a floating belt of rubble due to the star's gravity. Occasionally, clumps of magma that have not yet fully cooled solidify into obsidian-like crystals in the vacuum.

The massive planetary remnant is still slowly disintegrating, releasing energy that creates eerie radiance within the "nebula," like a silent elegy.

The combined fleet of the Human Empire and the Terran Empire anchored in a safe zone, silently "watching" over the ruins.

The ground battle was indeed tense and "intense," after all, the mission objective was to fight against the swarm of insects and then bring out the appearance of the Queen of Blades.

The battle that erupted in near-Earth orbit, however, seemed rather "quiet" to everyone—

Once the main guns of the Traveller-class Dreadnoughts had completed their first salvo, the Zerg bio-fleet was virtually unable to mount an effective offensive.

The Imperial-class battleship Nerva didn't even need to use its full firepower; its escort fleet alone was enough to wipe out the remaining Zerg swarms.

The size difference is devastating.

The various warships that the Terran Empire was so proud of were like toys in front of the human empire's fleet.

The human empire's frigates, ranging from 500 to 700 meters in length, surpassed the Terran Empire's capital ships in terms of armor thickness, cannon caliber, and other aspects, and were also no match for the human empire's fleet in terms of total tonnage.

The true capital ships of the human empire are like moving steel mountains, with weapon systems mounted on their hulls far exceeding the comprehension of the Terran engineers.

Inside the Busephalos.
Valerian Mengsk was "sunken" into a sofa in front of the observation porthole in his private cabin.

The prince, who was always known for his elegance, was now disheveled, and his platinum blonde hair had lost its usual luster.

He held a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold in his hand, but forgot to drink it, staring blankly out the window at the planetary debris field.

His eyes were bloodshot in the reflection of the porthole.

"One stomp, and the entire planet was crushed."

He muttered to himself, his voice dry and hoarse, like sandpaper being rubbed.

The images in my memory linger: the moment Athena's body expanded, the scene of Char's crust shattering like an eggshell, and so on.
That kind of power has transcended the scope of military confrontation; it is a true dimensional reduction attack.

The liquid in the glass suddenly rippled.

Valerian then realized his hands were trembling. He put down the cup with a wry smile, wiped his palms on his expensive trousers, but couldn't wipe away the cold sweat.

The prince's thoughts turned to a more pressing predicament: the army's loyalty was crumbling.

Those soldiers who followed him to Char are probably rethinking their lives now.

The army of the Terran Empire was a hodgepodge.

There were children of colonists who were forcibly conscripted, outlaws from prison planets, and even veterans left over from the time of the Sons of Korhal.

These people followed the Mengsk family simply for survival, but now, a more powerful survival option is before them.

"Loyalty to the goddess. How ironic."

Valerian twitched the corner of his mouth.

He could almost picture the scene in the fleet: low-ranking soldiers secretly making rudimentary statues of the goddess of war, officers privately discussing how to "abandon darkness and embrace light," and perhaps some had already begun passing classified intelligence to the human empire.

The most important thing is about his father's predicament.

A holographic projection lit up on the coffee table, displaying the encrypted channel of the Khar Palace. Valerian's finger hovered over the connect button, hesitant to press it.

He knew he had to persuade his father to surrender.

But I know it's all in vain.

Arcturus Mengsk, the man who valued power more than breathing, would rather set the entire Korhal and Terra Empire ablaze than relinquish his scepter.

Moreover, would the human empire really accept a butcher whose hands are stained with the blood of billions of people?

"Ah"

Valerian suddenly burst into laughter, a laugh tinged with madness.

He recalled his father's most frequent saying: "Power is not given, it is taken."

But now, he and his father don't even have the right to take it.

Outside the porthole, a human empire's frigate was on a routine patrol.

Its armor was engraved with scripts unfamiliar to Valerian, which shimmered with a cold light under the starlight, a light that stung Valerian's eyes and his pride as the heir.

"perhaps."

He slowly stood up and straightened his wrinkled collar.

He turned off the holographic projection and instead pulled up the fleet's personnel roster. It was time to prepare for the worst, for those who were still worth saving.

The first name on the list is Warfield.

After returning to the fleet, the old general went to the medical bay for treatment, where his right arm was replaced with the most advanced mechanical prosthetic arm in the Terran Empire.

Valerian believed that severing ties with his father in order to protect the soldiers and officers who were loyal to him was the most important thing at the moment.

Suddenly, a battle broke out at the hatch.

"Your Highness!" Warfield, having completed his treatment, entered the private cabin and said somewhat urgently:
"The Human Empire demands that you proceed to the Nerva immediately."

Valerian's fingers froze in mid-air.

After all, it should come.

He took one last look at the starry sky outside the window. The former Char, now a ruin, serves as the best warning sign for the Mengsk dynasty.

The metal corridor echoed dully beneath Valenian's feet as Warfield walked beside him, the old general's steps heavier than usual.

The emergency lights on the bulkhead cast long shadows of the two men, as if reminding them of their impending fate.

“Your Highness,” Warfield said in a low voice, his rough tone tinged with a rare hesitation, “whatever they ask for later, you must live.”

"hehe."

Valerian gave a wry smile, his fingers unconsciously tracing the gold thread embroidery on his cuffs—the Mengsk family crest, now seen as a symbol of irony.

"Alive? Lieutenant General, do you think we still have any bargaining chips?"

Warfield was silent for a moment, and the hydraulic system of the prosthesis emitted a slight hiss.

“At least... you’re different,” the lieutenant general finally said, his gaze sweeping over the flashing surveillance cameras at the end of the corridor. “You haven’t spilled the blood of innocent people.”

"."

The crown prince did not answer.

As they turned the corner, they came across a group of Marines gathering outside a rest pod.

Those people fell silent as soon as they saw the higher-ups appear, but snippets of their conversation still drifted over:

"—He crushed the entire planet!"

"I heard that a goddess can do it with just one finger—"

The words stopped abruptly.

The soldiers saluted stiffly, their eyes darting around. Shortly afterward, Valerian and Warfield arrived at the hangar and boarded their private transport ship.

As they approached the Nerva from the hangar, Valerian saw through the narrow porthole that the "flying temple" was closing in with a suffocating sense of oppression, while the Nerva's hangar entrance was ridiculously large, like a giant mouth ready to devour them.

"Good heavens!" Warfield exclaimed. "Their hangar could hold several Bucephalus ships."

This is true.

As the transport boat slid into the hangar, the sight that came into view made both of them hold their breath.

Under the dome, which is over a thousand meters high, numerous transport ships and carrier-based aircraft are taking off and landing in an orderly manner, while a giant robotic arm, resembling a small ship, is operating and assisting.

Once the dedicated transport vessel landed at the designated location, the moment the hatch opened, three "giant" figures were already waiting below the gangway.

These three giants, each over three meters tall, or rather, Greek minor gods, had their muscle lines subtly visible beneath their biomimetic light armor.

They wore Collins-style helmets, with only two points of cold blue light visible beneath their visors, and the tips of their multifaceted spears trembled slightly, emitting a dangerous hum.

There was no greeting, no security check.

The leading demigod simply stepped aside to make way, the spear shaft tapping lightly on the deck, the crisp metallic sound echoing through the hangar.

"call"

Valerian took a deep breath and stepped forward to catch up with his companion, with Warfield close behind.

Next, they boarded the ship's railcar, and after everyone was seated, the train began to move silently.

The view outside the window turned into blurry "blocks of color," with only the occasional glimpse of giant stone pillars proving that they were traversing the interior of the ship.

“This isn’t a warship at all,” Warfield muttered to himself, “it’s a flying city.”

Ten minutes later, the train stopped in front of an arched tunnel.

The lesser gods were the first to rise, and at the end of the tunnel, two ten-meter-high bronze doors were slowly opening—

The intense light made Valerian squint.

When his vision returned, the sight that the prince saw once again shocked him.

The circular hall, over a hundred meters in diameter, is supported by forty giant pillars that form a dome adorned with star maps. The deck, seemingly cast from a planetary core, is etched with patterns of every star system and universe conquered by the human empire. A massive holographic projection floats in the center of the hall, displaying real-time energy readings from the Char debris belt.

Valerian's gaze climbed the steps—

Above the nine gilded steps, the throne in the center is made entirely of some kind of luminous white unknown material, with golden energy flowing around the armrests as if they were alive.

The figure sitting there made the Crown Prince of Tyrell gasp for breath.

Having removed her armor, Athena now wears a flowing white robe with subtle defensive runes flowing across the fabric.

Her slender fingertips lightly touched the armrest of the throne, and various holographic particles flowed out from between her fingers.

When the goddess looked up, Valerian seemed to see the entire starry sky spinning in the eyes of the goddess—a living, breathing divinity far more awe-inspiring than any holographic projection.

"Valenian Mengsk".

The goddess's voice wasn't loud, but it caused the mechanical torches on both sides of the hall to sway simultaneously. Each syllable resonated with multiple layers of sound, as if millions of people were repeating the same words in parallel universes.

Valerian found his knees trembling uncontrollably. Although Athena had clearly reduced her pressure, the difference in their life levels was still as heavy as a mountain.

Worfield's situation was even worse; the old general's mechanical prosthetics suddenly malfunctioned, hydraulic oil seeped from the joints, and his legs felt like cast lead, yet he still insisted on not kneeling.

“You are more resilient than I imagined.”

Athena leaned forward slightly, a movement that caused ripples in the air around the throne. "It seems there's something worth saving hidden in the bloodline of the Mengsk family."

The holographic projection suddenly distorted and deformed.

The image of Charles's remains was forcibly covered by some higher-dimensional being, and countless golden particles emerged from the surroundings, coalescing into a figure in black and gold armor.

When the hard light image of Emperor Sui Yang was fully revealed, the gravity parameters of the entire hall seemed to have shifted subtly.

Valerian's heart nearly stopped beating.

Even across the dimensional barrier, Sui Yang's presence was as explosive as a supernova.

The image of the other party was not a physical entity, yet it was more real than any material thing. The black and gold patterns on the armor seemed to compress the darkness and light of the entire universe into a liquid state.

The Emperor's smile, though seemingly gentle, sent an instinctive shiver down the spine of even a hardened soldier like Warfield.

"The Crown Prince of the Terran Empire."

When Sui Yang spoke, it was as if even the suspended dust had stopped. His voice also carried a strange quality that transcended dimensions, as if it came from the past, present, and future simultaneously.

"I'll give you two choices."

With a flick of his finger, the Emperor unfurled two holographic images before Valerian.

On the left is a simulated image of Khar Palace being reduced to a sea of ​​fire by orbital bombardment, while on the right is a peaceful scene of Terran soldiers orderly surrendering their weapons during a surrender ceremony.

“Fight to the bitter end, or…” Sui Yang’s gaze swept over Warfield’s mutilated right arm, “end this farce with minimal bloodshed.”

The hall suddenly fell into a deathly silence.

Valerian could hear the throbbing of his own veins. He looked to his right at a figure in the "peace" scene, clearly depicting Arcturus Mengsk being publicly sentenced to death and immediately executed.

The prince's Adam's apple bobbed, and a bitter taste spread through his mouth.

"my father."

“He’s not important.” Athena stood up and interrupted, her white robes fluttering even without wind. “What matters is how many people you can save who should have been buried with you.”

With that, Athena snapped her fingers.

Data suddenly poured out from all around the hall, forming a detailed list in front of Valerian.

Those were the files of all members of the Mengsk family, with each name followed by a crime assessment, and the Crown Prince's own name followed by a line of small print: "Controllable modification value: 87%".

"The Koprulu Sector needs order." The Emperor's voice suddenly became extremely penetrating. "And you happen to have the political background we need."

He pointed to the Mengsk family crest on Valerian's chest, "Take this off and replace it with the Imperial dragon crest, and hundreds of billions of civilians will be spared the ravages of war."

Valerian closed his eyes.

He recalled the discussion about the Imperial Marines in a corner of the hangar when he left the Busephalos, and the sun-drenched dragon emblems on the Imperial warships seen through the portholes of the transport ships.

What I remember most is the indifference in Athena's eyes towards "chaos" and "fall" when Char collapsed.

“I understand,” Valerian opened his eyes and responded hoarsely.

"very good."

Sui Yang's projection revealed a genuinely gentle smile, and with a flick of his hand, the Mengsk family crest on Valerian's chest suddenly floated into the air, reforging into the shape of the Imperial Dragon Crest in golden flames.

“A wise choice.” The emperor’s image began to fade. “The future you will be proud of who you are now, child.”

As the last glimmer of golden light faded, Athena strode forward, the hem of her white robe sweeping across the steps, each step leaving a luminous footprint on the alloy floor.

The goddess stopped before Valerian, whose body was trembling slightly, and said:
"Don't look at me like that, kid. You just saved the lives of tens of billions of your fellow human beings. That's greater than your father's 'achievements' in his entire life."

(End of this chapter)