From Titan Corporation to the Empire of Man

Chapter 663 "Every wail will become your lullaby."

Before the morning mist had completely dissipated, the central square of the Oxtegrad Palace complex was already filled with disarmed Tyrian soldiers.

They removed their CMC power armor, which symbolized military strength, and wore only thin training uniforms and tactical boots or leather boots.

The once-shiny military boots are now covered in mud, and the carefully maintained medals have been torn off, leaving only a few loose threads hanging from the collar.

The senior officers were lined up separately; some tried to straighten their backs to maintain their last shred of dignity, while others stared blankly at the ground.

They knew better than ordinary soldiers how much innocent blood was on their hands.

On the alloy platform in the center of the square, more than twenty die-hard Mengsk loyalists were forced to kneel on the cold metal floor with their hands tied behind their backs.

The former executioners were ashen-faced, and some of their uniforms were still stained with the blood of the night's battle.

On the north side of the square, in a council chamber that had been temporarily requisitioned, crystal chandeliers cast a stark white light onto the floor.

Arcturus Mengsk was strapped to a simple chair, his once crisp marshal's uniform now wrinkled like a rag, his graying sideburns disheveled.

But what is most chilling is the tyrant's eyes, which contain neither fear nor anger, but only a kind of cold calculation, as if he is still weighing the chances of turning the tables.

"Hahaha!"

Tychus Finn tapped his power armor knee with his covered fingers, his rough laughter echoing through the hall.

"The old fox, who schemed his whole life, was ultimately checkmated by the very piece he threw away."

As he spoke, Tychus deliberately leaned down, letting Mengsk see the Ranger and Imperial insignia on his power armor. "Do you know what the most ironic thing is? The expendable pawns you sent to their deaths—"

The armored fingers pointed at Nova, Stone, and others in turn, saying, "They're all doing very well now."

Nova's nanotech suit gleamed like mother-of-pearl under the lights. She merely raised an eyebrow slightly upon hearing this, while Stone stood beside her like a dutiful adjutant.

"The difference in power is too great."

Baze Marbus whispered to Chiru Inveil in a way that everyone could hear, and Baze deliberately gave Mengsk the look of someone appraising cargo:
"Compared to Palpatine, his only redeeming quality is his ruthlessness."

"."

Mengsk's lips twitched.

Jim Reynolds remained in the shadows, his expression obscured.

But when Sarah Kerrigan, the former Queen of Blades, now dressed in a simple black bodysuit, her psionic energy flowing gently like a stream, placed her hand on Jim's shoulder, everyone could see the Ranger Commander's taut jawline.

"The winner is the king and the loser is the bandit."

Mengsk suddenly spoke.

His gaze first swept over Jim Reynolds and Sarah Kerrigan, then over the silent officers including Leon, Mike, and Chris, before finally settling on Jim's face:

"Kill them quickly."

An eerie silence fell over the hall.

The light from the crystal chandelier cast spiderweb-like shadows on Mengsk's face, outlining the shadows in the hollows of his eyes like a skull.

Everyone could smell the "odor" emanating from him—not the stench of fear, but something far more terrifying: the eerie calm that comes with a gambler losing all his chips.

Nova finally took a step forward.

"You think this is the end?" Her voice was terrifyingly soft. "No, this is just the beginning of the trial."

Her nanogloves swept through the void, bringing up a holographic projection that showed Astartes distributing relief food to civilians, and children curiously touching the power armor around the Weeping Warriors.

"During your reign," Nova frowned, "did you ever see anything like this?"

Mengsk's Adam's apple bobbed.

Just then, the hall door was pushed open, and Valerian Mengsk walked in wearing the black uniform of the Empire of Man.

The father and son's eyes met in mid-air. The young crown prince, expressionless, raised the data tablet and said in an icy voice:
"According to preliminary statistics, there are 472 secret graves in Khar alone. Do I need to publicly announce how many teenagers and children are buried in each one, Father?"

"."

This title made Mengsk's eyelids twitch violently.

Tychus chuckled in a low voice, "Old man, that 'kill quickly if you want to kill' line you just uttered was really something—want to do it again?"

Mengsk finally revealed his first real expression of the night—

It wasn't fear, nor anger, but a mocking realization.

The tyrant slowly leaned back in his chair, as if he had suddenly become very interested in the ceiling.

“So,” Mengsk’s voice suddenly became unusually clear, “this is justice in the new era? A bunch of traitors and executioners holding a moral seminar in a pool of blood?”

Kerrigan's psionic energy suddenly fluctuated for a moment, and the temperature in the hall plummeted. But to everyone's surprise, it was Leon, who had remained silent, who spoke up in rebuttal.

"Do not."

The representative from the investigation department pointed out the window, “Justice means that those children no longer have to worry about false accusations, no longer have to worry about war, and no longer have to worry about what they will eat tomorrow.”

The morning light shone through the stained glass, casting a blood-red spot on Mengsk's face, like a wound that would never heal.

Suddenly, the air in the hall seemed to freeze.

The space ripples and twists like water, and light is refracted by some invisible force, stretching the walls and the ground into bizarre geometric shapes.

Step, step.

Immediately afterwards, a series of crisp footsteps rang out.

It wasn't the clanging of machinery, but rather a rhythm akin to music, each step feeling like stepping on a node of reality's structure.

Athena's figure emerged from the shadows.

This goddess of war is over two meters tall, yet she does not appear clumsy at all. Her slender body is encased in flowing golden armor, the surface of which is covered with ancient Greek runes that shimmer with light as she moves.

Her face was so perfect it was almost unreal, and her long golden hair moved without wind, forming a dazzling halo behind her.

What's most chilling is her eyes at this moment.

There are no pupils, only endless galaxies rotating within them, as if gazing at them would allow one to witness the end of the universe.

! !
Mengsk, the once arrogant tyrant, was digging his fingers deep into the armrest of his chair, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead.

That is the instinctive tremor that humans feel when faced with an existence far beyond their comprehension.

Even in his most insane nightmares, Mengsk never imagined that a real god would stand before him in such a concrete form.

"it's time."

Athena spoke, her voice like the whispers of millions, with an eerie harmonic effect, each syllable causing the glassware in the hall to tremble slightly.

"The people of Terran will witness the end of the tyrant's rule."

"Hey!"

Tychus Finley grinned, and even the power armor's servo systems emitted a "pleasant" hum.

He lifted Mengsk from his seat like a chick, his armored arms gripping the tyrant's chest, ensuring that every bone in his body felt the relentless pressure of the power armor.

"Let's go, old friend, it's time for the curtain call!" Mengsk's feet were almost off the ground as he was half-dragged and half-pulled toward the hall exit.

As he passed Jim Reynolds, the tyrant's lips twitched as if he wanted to say something, but he ultimately remained silent.

The Ranger Commander stood in the shadows, his eyes unfathomable, only Kerrigan's hand on his shoulder tightening slightly, revealing the turmoil in his heart.

When Mengsk was led onto the alloy platform, a suppressed uproar erupted in the square.

Tens of thousands of disarmed soldiers surged forward in unison, only to retreat to their original positions under the intimidation of Astartes and the Greek minor gods.

Whispers spread like a plague.

Will they execute him?

"Will we be purged too?"

"The new regime will..."

"quiet."

Athena's voice wasn't loud, but it swept away all the noise as if it were real.

The divine pressure caused the nearest officers to kneel down, their chests feeling as if they were being crushed by a boulder. The entire square fell silent once more, even the sound of the wind seemed to freeze.

Just then, numerous cameras rose up from different angles, and the UNN logo on several of the lenses indicated that these were the equipment of the former official media of the Terran Empire.

On-location reporter Kate Rockwell, the "golden voice" who constantly sabotaged Mengsk's reign, was adjusting her collar with trembling hands as her makeup artist hurriedly touched up her makeup, trying to cover her pale face.

This is the UNN main channel.

Her voice traveled through the quantum communication network throughout Korhal and even across the entire human planet in the Koprulu Sector. Her once sweet voice now carried a noticeable tremor.

"We are now located in the central square of Augustegrad, bringing you a live broadcast of this historic moment: the trial of former Terran Emperor Arcturus Mengsk."

The camera pans to the high platform.

Athena's golden figure contrasted sharply with Mengsk's disheveled state, as he was forced to kneel on the alloy floor, his knees clattering against the metal with a sickening sound.

Tychus stood like an iron tower behind Mengsk, ready to suppress any resistance from the tyrant.

"Based on the ruling of the Provisional Military Tribunal of the Human Empire."

Athena raised her hand, and countless holographic screens unfolded around the plaza, displaying evidence of the crimes committed during Mengsk's reign—

Secret videos of dissidents being executed, the starving masses in the Tyrell slums, and the rebellious city wiped out by a nuclear bomb.
The most chilling footage is of an underground facility, where rows of incubation chambers contain the bodies of young children, with labels on the walls indicating that they are "discarded materials" from a psionic experiment.

People started vomiting in the square.

“These…” a major general suddenly tore off his shoulder insignia, “we knew nothing about these things!”

His breakdown triggered a chain reaction, with more and more officers beginning to discard the insignia that symbolized their ranks, while some conscientious generals still pounded the ground in frustration.

Mengsk simply watched all of this with indifference.

"There's also an encrypted database inside your escape shuttle."

The goddess of war's voice suddenly became unusually soft, yet it was more chilling than any roar.

"Are you going to publicly broadcast your 'scorched earth' agreement, which involves sacrificing five billion civilians in Kabul?"

Mengsk frowned, but in front of countless cameras and under the watchful eyes of all his former subordinates, this arrogant tyrant still refused to bow his head.

However, at that moment, space, like silk being kneaded by an invisible hand, twisted and rippled strangely around Athena.

Golden light burst forth from her body, each ray of light seemingly possessing a living tentacle, weaving intricate geometric patterns in the air, causing even the most sophisticated camera equipment to malfunction.

As the light faded, a towering figure stood atop the high platform.

The human emperor of the main universe, who is over five meters tall, is Sui Yang, who is clad in black and gold armor. The armor is also engraved with Chinese characters, which shimmer with a dull luster in the sunlight.

His face was as perfect and cold as a sculpture, and the golden flames burning in his eyes stung the eyes of anyone who looked directly at him.

Although it was just a psionic projection on a high platform using Athena as an anchor point, the oppressive feeling made everyone present involuntarily kneel on one knee.

"No, that's impossible."

Mengsk finally revealed his true fear; his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his voice was as dry as sandpaper.

Sui Yang slowly raised his hand, a simple gesture that seemed to slow down the flow of time in the entire square.

As his fingertip pointed at Mengsk, countless tiny golden arcs of electricity appeared in the air.

“Death is not the end for you,” the Emperor’s voice echoed across countless times, “but the beginning of eternal torment.”

As he spoke, a dark crack suddenly appeared in the sky above the platform.

The image projected from it sent chills down everyone's spine—

It was a burning, blood-red wasteland, where countless twisted human figures struggled and howled in the lava.

Of particular note is one area where the victims are frozen in time at the moment of being engulfed by a nuclear explosion, their flesh and blood constantly regenerating and being vaporized, in an endless cycle.

“Look, tyrant.” Sui Yang’s golden eyes reflected a scene of hell. “This is the ‘throne’ reserved for you.”

A gasp of terror erupted in the square.

During UNN's live stream, Kate Rockwell's microphone fell to the ground with a thud, but she didn't even notice. Even a tough guy like Tychus unconsciously loosened his grip on Mengsk's arm.

The tyrant's face was ashen, and large beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

His lips trembled, but he still clung to his last shred of defiance: "Bluster. It's all... all an illusion."

The hellish illusion suddenly expanded, engulfing the entire plaza.

Everyone could clearly feel the scorching heat and smell the stench of burning flesh and blood. Even more terrifying, the tortured people suddenly turned their heads in unison, staring at Mengsk with their empty eye sockets.

“Every wail will become your lullaby.” The emperor’s voice was like a death knell. “Every pain will be your eternal companion.”

Mengsk finally broke down.

He struggled frantically, shouting at the top of his lungs, "No! You can't do this! I am the founder of the Terran Empire! I am—"

His words came to an abrupt halt, as if his vocal cords were being choked by an invisible hand, leaving him only able to utter gurgling sounds.

The next second, Mengsk disappeared, clearly having been banished to the Hell Realm by Sui Yang.

Then, the human emperor of the main universe empire turned his psionic projection toward the live broadcast camera in front of him, his gaze seemingly piercing through time and space, looking directly at every person watching the live broadcast.

“My fellow human beings,” his voice suddenly softened, “from this day forward, you will no longer live in the shadow of tyranny.”

But remember—

The fantasy shifts from hell to a prosperous human empire, where children play in parks, workers toil in their assigned jobs, and scientists explore the unknown in brightly lit laboratories.

"Freedom always goes hand in hand with responsibility."

After saying this, the emperor's image began to fade.

As the emperor's figure completely vanished, the illusion that shrouded the square also faded away like morning mist, but the profound shock of hell would forever be imprinted in the memory of every witness.
(End of this chapter)