Warhammer: Empire Reboot

Thirteen-year-old Leah was squatting on the ground, breaking a piece of synthetic starch cake into three pieces.

She was breaking it down very seriously.

First, use your fingernail to draw lines on the surface of the pie, then press along the cracks little by little to make the three pieces look the same size.

Ellen glanced at it.

What about yours?

Lia's hand stopped.

Mira looked at her too.

Leah whispered, "I'm not hungry."

Ellen did not get angry.

Three months ago, he would have been furious. Not because his daughter was lying, but because lying like that was too dangerous in the hive. A child who learns to hide food will soon learn to be reported by the neighbors, have their bed searched by the civil defense, and have their family's rations revoked by the ration station.

Now he simply reached out, broke off a corner from one of the three starch cakes, and placed it in Leah's palm.

"eat."

Leah did not move.

Ellen stared at her.

"Your brother needs his sister to live."

This sentence is more effective than "You also need to eat".

Leah lowered her head and put that small piece into her mouth.

The synthetic starch cake had a musty smell and was mixed with algae powder and some cheap mineral thickener. Swallowing it felt like swallowing a mouthful of wet ash. Tom used to complain that it tasted like plaster. Later, he stopped complaining because plaster could fill his stomach too.

Three days ago, the entire Albitl-3 system heard that sound.

The Governor's Office forbade listening, but the sound still managed to squeeze out from every stompbox that could still breathe, every old receiver, and every port notice board.

The man said, "The empire has not forgotten you."

He said that support would arrive soon.

That day, many people in the middle-level hive knelt in the corridors and wept. Some dug out the double-headed eagle hidden in the cracks in the wall, some secretly wiped the black paint off the slogans in the governor's mansion, and some dared to tell their children for the first time before going to bed that perhaps the empire was not dead yet.

The next day, the civil defense team began making arrests.

The first to be hung in the Ninth Ration Square was an old soldier. He simply said, amidst the ruins of the tavern, "Agrippina won."

The third person executed was a former teacher at a nunnery school. She had written "The Empire has not forgotten you" on the blackboard.

By the third day, this phrase had become a contraband.

Leah engraved it on a thin piece of metal and tucked it into her sleeve.

She didn't dare let her younger brother see it for too long, only letting him touch the crooked marks when Tom was too hungry to sleep.

Tom asked, "When is he coming?"

Leah said, "They said on the radio, right away."

Ellen heard her, but did not correct her.

On Albitl-3, it could be an hour or a lifetime.

But some lies can kill people.

Some hope, however, can make the child stay up one more night.

Suddenly, an announcement came from outside the door.

The old loudspeaker in the wall coughed out a burst of static, followed by the tireless female voice from the Governor's Office Propaganda Department.

"Attention all loyal residents of Albitel-III"

"Due to the panic spread by external warlords, in order to stabilize order, Governor Melchior decided to open temporary rationing registration."

"All middle-class residents, please proceed to the designated square according to your area. Bring your family card, work hour ticket, and loyalty stamp. Those who refuse to register will be considered as being misled by hostile forces."

"Self-governance is survival."

"To obey the governor is to obey the emperor."

The broadcast was repeated three times.

Tom was woken up.

He opened his eyes, and his first words were: "Is there anything to eat?"

Ellen walked to the wall and took down the tool bag hanging on the nail. Inside the tool bag were half a set of pipe wrenches, an old pressure tester, and two rolls of insulating tape that were used up to the last bit.

He stuffed the family badge into his inner pocket and then touched the faded double-headed eagle badge on his chest.

That was left by his father.

His father had been a corporal in the Astral Army Auxiliary Corps, and died far away, the news of his death arriving twenty years before his body was found. Ellen didn't talk much about him, but she kept the badge.

Leah noticed his movements.

"Father, will we really receive the grain today?"

Ellen wanted to say yes.

He also wanted to say that the empire still existed, order still existed, and the governor's office would not lie to everyone.

The first thing the Church teaches people is not to feed their children lies. Lies don't fill their stomachs, and they make them too slow to react when danger comes.

"I do not know."

Leah didn't ask any more questions.

When the family left, the corridor was already crowded with people.

In the past, the middle-class residential areas still retained a certain level of respectability. Door frames were numbered, there were cleaning machines in the stairwells, and residents would try their best to wash their clothes clean, even if they were patched upon patched, they would still button up their collars.

Now, that last bit of dignity is being worn away by hunger.

In the crowd, some people were carrying pots, some were dragging children, and some had elderly people strapped to makeshift carts. Everyone carried a family badge, as if carrying the last piece of bone that could prove they still belonged to the order.

The walls are covered with new slogans.

"The governor is protecting us."

"Autonomy is not betrayal; autonomy is waiting for the empire to return."

"Rumors come from the enemy, and hunger comes from laziness."

The word "lazy" was crossed out in the last sentence with charcoal, and two crooked words were written next to it.

"you."

The words were quickly half covered by black paint, but not completely.

Lia glanced at it, then quickly looked away.

You can't stare at these things for too long.

At the corner of the stairs, an old man was kneeling on the ground, clutching the boots of a civil defense worker.

“My son works at the Seventh Water Purification Tower. He has a work ration coupon. He didn’t come back yesterday. Sir, please let me register first. I’ll go find him as soon as I get my rations…”

The civil defense team member looked down at him.

The man wore a dark gray uniform, with the Governor's Office's newly issued black and gold eagle claw emblem on his arm. This used to be a patrol point for the Ministry of Justice, its insignia supposed to be the Imperial Eagle and gavel. Now the gavel was gone.

"Without the person in question and without work hour tickets, one is not eligible."

The old man still wanted to plead.

The civil defense officer kicked his hand away.

No one dared to help.

Mira hugged Tom tightly and whispered, "Don't look."

Tom buried his face in his mother's shoulder.

They followed the flow of people toward the Ninth Rationing Square.

The middle-level nests are very large, with passageways layered one on top of another, and bridges spanning huge vertical shafts. Below the shafts are the lower nests, where industrial fumes and the red glow of burning garbage perpetually linger.

In the past, middle-class residents would try not to look down when crossing the bridge. Now, many people look down with only a numb sense of relief in their eyes.

At least I haven't fallen yet.

At the entrance to the square, the queue had already filled three streets.

The huge projection screen overhead was playing an old speech by Governor Melchior.

The governor on the screen was dressed in a black and gold suit with an imperial double-headed eagle hanging on his chest, and his face was very gentle.

“Albitl has never betrayed the Empire. We have only been forced to bear the darkness alone. Every loyal resident should understand that waiting for rescue requires order, and maintaining order requires sacrifice.”

Below the projection, two children are wrestling over a piece of starch that has fallen to the ground.

Nobody went to pull it.

Ellen placed her hand on Leah's shoulder, her palm able to feel the contours of her daughter's slender shoulder bones.

She is too young.

But this world never waits for children to grow up.

At the same time, deep within the Governor's Mansion in the Tower District of the Nest City.

Melchior sat at the end of the long table, holding a crystal glass in his hand.

The wine in the glass is a pale gold color, an old treasure from the Fenrir Orchard Galaxy.

The entire Albitel-3 has not been able to provide a stable supply of grain to the middle level for three months, but the top cellar is still kept at a constant temperature, and there are still people dedicated to wiping the dust off the bottles every day.

Not many lights were on in the meeting room.

Melchior disliked bright light.

Bright light allows one to see too many details, such as the fear in the eyes of a staff member, the sweat on the sleeve of a military advisor that hasn't been wiped clean, or the veins that suddenly bulge on the back of one's own hand.

Lawson's broadcast was like a nail driven into the very bones of the entire planet.