As the squad made their way toward the control room, Nate broke the heavy silence. “What was all that, Ji. I thought you were going to cut him up and make him tell us how to launch the missiles.

  “No, I have read that physical torture like that was unreliable”, Ji explained. “The enemy can’t think clearly with the pain. It is much better to mess with them mentally than physically.”

  “I’ll give him credit,” he said, his voice cold but tinged with a rare note of respect. “That general… he lasted a while before breaking. Not many can do that. He was a good man, even in the face of despair.”

  Zara, walking slightly ahead, glanced over her shoulder. “A good man?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “He led armies to slaughter countless innocents for his people’s so-called glory. You call that good?”

  Ji shrugged, his expression unreadable beneath his helmet. “Good by their standards, maybe. Loyal to the end. I can respect that, even if it doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.”

  Nate snorted. “Respect won’t win this war. You heard him; he’d have let his people die screaming before giving us what we needed. Doesn’t matter if he was ‘good.’ He was an obstacle, and now he’s not.”

  Sahaad, walking at the rear of the group, clenched his fists but said nothing. Ji’s words had struck a nerve. The general had been a good man in his own way—a leader who stood firm for his people, even in the face of overwhelming odds. It was the kind of strength Sahaad himself admired, yet it only deepened the pit in his stomach over what Ji had done to extract the launch codes.

  “Enough,” Sahaad finally said, his voice cutting through the conversation. “We don’t have time to debate morals. We’re here to finish the mission. Focus on that.”

  The others fell silent, though Sahaad could feel their tension lingering. He pushed it aside, forcing himself to focus on the task ahead. The control room was just a few corridors away, and the launch codes they had wrested from the general would decide the success or failure of their mission.

  The Imperators descended deeper into the fortress, their heavy boots echoing down the polished marble stairs as they made their way to the underground situation room. The once-pristine hallways, adorned with murals and gilded arches depicting the Entil’s proud history, now bore scorch marks and bullet holes. Tapestries that once fluttered in the cold air hung in tatters, their stories erased by the Federation’s advance.

  At the base of the staircase, they encountered the reinforced doors to the situation room. Ji examined the lock mechanism, a blend of advanced Entil technology and ceremonial design, while the others stood guard.

  “Standard bypass won’t work,” Ji muttered, pulling a small plasma cutter from his belt. He set to work, the tool emitting a sharp hiss as it melted through the locking mechanism. After a tense minute, the lock gave way with a loud clunk.

  Sahaad pushed the door open, his heavy gravity rifle raised, scanning the room for threats. The chamber beyond was massive, dimly lit by rows of holographic displays and terminals arranged in a semi-circle around a central command table. The air was cold and smelled faintly of burnt electronics, the remnants of a skirmish here long before their arrival.

  “This must be it,” Zara said, moving cautiously toward the central terminal.

  “Spread out,” Sahaad ordered. “Check for any traps or hidden defenses. We can’t afford surprises.”

  Nate took up position near the doorway, his phase-sword in hand, while Ji and Zara moved to the terminals lining the room. Sahaad approached the central table, examining the holographic interface. It was still active, displaying an intricate map of the fortress city and its surrounding defenses.

  “Looks like the codes work here,” Ji called out, pulling up a command prompt on one of the side terminals. “We’re in.”

  “Good,” Sahaad said, gesturing for the others to gather around the central table. He tapped a few keys, bringing up the missile systems interface. “This is it. We need to target those spires.”

  Zara stepped forward, her hands moving over the controls with precision. “Adjusting trajectory… Setting up simultaneous strikes… Done.”

  “Activating targeting system now,” Ji added from his terminal. His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his focus. “Coordinates locked. We’re ready to launch.”

  Sahaad hovered over the controls, his finger poised above the final command. The room fell silent as the weight of their actions loomed over them. With a deep breath, he pressed the button.

  The Imperators stood in tense silence as the holographic map displayed the missiles making contact with the spires. For a split second, nothing happened beyond a blinding flash. Then the world above roared with devastation.

  Massive fireballs erupted from the spires, their explosions so powerful they lit the sky with hues of red and orange. The ground shook violently, the tremors reverberating through the fortress city like the wrath of a collapsing star. Sahaad and the others braced themselves against the command table as the shockwave reached them, causing the building’s foundation to groan under the strain.

  “Direct hits,” Zara murmured, her voice almost drowned out by the cacophony.

  One by one, the holographic displays went dark, symbolizing the destruction of the spires. The delicate gravitational mechanisms that had suspended the city above the planet’s icy crust shattered. The city, once a proud symbol of Entil ingenuity, began to fall.

  Through the forcefield-protected windows of the command room, the squad witnessed the horrifying spectacle. Buildings toppled, their ornate spires crumbling into nothingness. Entire districts were swallowed by the collapsing infrastructure, the ground below erupting in plumes of fire and debris as the city crashed into the planet’s crust.

  The devastation was absolute. Radiation from the missiles began to seep into the ruins, adding another layer of death to the already catastrophic destruction. Outside, the Entil soldiers who had been fighting valiantly were now gone—consumed by the impact or the ensuing chaos.

  The command room trembled but held firm, the force field protecting it from the external devastation. Sahaad scanned the area through the viewport, his face stoic but his eyes betraying a flicker of unease.

  After the fireballs had eased and the temperature began to descend, the Imperators carefully made their way outside.

  The air was thick with ash, turning the world into a gray, ashen haze. Black rain fell in irregular splatters, sizzling as it hit the superheated remnants of the city. Shadowy imprints of bodies—both human and alien—were seared onto the decimated roads, silent witnesses to the catastrophic force that had obliterated them.

  Sahaad led the squad, his gravity rifle slung across his back. His helmet’s visor emitted a faint glow, scanning the surroundings for radiation levels and heat signatures. The readings were grim: a life-threatening cocktail of radiation and searing temperatures that would kill an ordinary human in minutes.

  “Radiation’s spiked to critical,” Zara said, her voice filtered through the comms. Her scanner pinged repeatedly, drawing her attention to the lingering hotspots scattered throughout the wreckage. “It’s not survivable for anyone without gear.”

  “Not our concern,” Ji replied bluntly, his tone devoid of sympathy. He nudged a piece of debris with his boot, revealing the skeletal remains of an Entil soldier fused to what was once a wall. “They knew what they were fighting for. Just like us.”

  Despite Ji’s cold words, there was an eerie solemnity in the air that even he couldn’t completely brush aside. The shadows on the ground—burned into existence by the nuclear fire—told stories of families, soldiers, and civilians who had been caught in the chaos. They were gone, yet their outlines remained as ghostly reminders of lives snuffed out in an instant.

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  Sahaad paused, his helmet scanning a particularly large imprint—a group of figures, huddled together, frozen in their final moments. His enhanced physique allowed him to block out the worst of the heat and radiation, but he couldn’t block out the images that filled his mind.

  “Keep moving,” he said, his voice hard but quieter than usual.

  The squad complied, stepping over shattered roads and collapsed structures. Their armor, a testament to Federation engineering, shielded them from the deadly environment. But it was their own enhancements—the result of centuries of genetic modification—that truly allowed them to withstand this level of devastation.

  Nate let out a low grunt as his boots kicked up a plume of ash. “It’s like walking through hell,” he muttered.

  “Hell doesn’t leave shadows,” Zara replied, her voice tinged with unease.

  “Keep your heads up, the mission is done. We leave the city and make it to a safe distance so we can be pulled up”, Sahaad ordered.

  “With what ship?”, Nate sarcastically questioned, but Sahaad ignored the jab as they continued trekking along the ruined city.

  With the defense array destroyed, the skies above Laxos became a theater of relentless chaos. Federation warships loomed high in orbit, their massive cannons glowing with furious energy as they rained hellfire down upon the planet's surface. Beams of light streaked from the heavens, slamming into the icy crust of the planet with devastating force. The once-pristine ice sheets shattered into colossal shards, jagged and glistening under the darkened sky.

  Columns of frozen water shot into the air, only to cascade back down as a slurry of ice and snow. Entire sections of the surface cracked and fell away, revealing blackened chasms that vented superheated steam. The Entil’s floating cities, already destabilized by the loss of the spires, were obliterated one by one under the relentless bombardment.

  The Imperators paused for a moment, their visors reflecting the fiery rain of destruction. Sahaad’s enhanced vision caught sight of a Federation dreadnought unleashing its payload on a distant city. The energy beams punched through the ice, carving deep into the planet’s crust and sending shockwaves that rippled across the frozen landscape.

  “This is overkill,” Zara muttered, her voice sharp with a mix of awe and bitterness.

  “This is the Federation,” Ji replied coldly, his gaze fixed on the inferno above. “Victory through annihilation.”

  “Keep moving,” Sahaad ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We’re not safe yet.”

  “Hold up, something’s there”, Zara announced, noting movement in the periphery.

  The Imperators halted their march through the decimated ruins of Axiol-ah, their visors locking onto a lone figure silhouetted against the glowing wreckage. The figure, though smaller than an Imperator, radiated an undeniable presence. It stood motionless amidst the chaos, as if it belonged to a different time, a different world.

  The squad approached cautiously, their heavy boots crunching against the ashen debris. As they drew closer, the figure became clearer. It was a Praetorian, clad in green and gold armor, the intricate design marred by scars of battle. The armor shimmered faintly, reflecting a bygone era of craftsmanship and pride.

  On the shoulder plate was the unmistakable symbol of a wolf, its jaws wide open in a snarl. The chest plate bore the old empire’s insignia—a sunburst and a blade—but it had been viciously scratched out, leaving deep gouges that seemed more symbolic than accidental.

  “Praetorian,” Zara whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

  Sahaad stepped forward, his gravity rifle hanging loosely in one hand, though his posture remained alert. “Praetorian,” he called out, his tone both firm and questioning. “What are you doing here? We didn’t receive word of Praetorians being deployed to Laxos.”

  The armored figure didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he scooped a handful of blackened ash from the ground, letting it sift through his gloved fingers. The wind caught the remnants, scattering them into the bleak, gray air.

  “I arrived too late,” the Praetorian muttered, his voice a mix of bitterness and lament, distorted slightly by his helmet’s voice modulator.

  Sahaad’s patience wore thin. “Who sent you?”

  The Praetorian finally rose to his feet, the green and gold of his armor glinting faintly against the dim, ash-choked light. “No one sent me,” he replied flatly, turning to face the Imperators. “I’m not here on Federation orders.”

  The squad tensed, Zara’s hand instinctively moving to her weapon. “Then why are you here?” she asked warily.

  The Praetorian regarded them silently for a moment before speaking. “This city... Axiol-ah... it was a stronghold, a beacon for the Entil. Now it’s nothing but rubble and death. I came here because I thought I could stop it. But it seems the Federation’s finest have already done the job.” He gestured subtly toward the ruins around them.

  Ji narrowed his eyes. “You’re saying you came here to save the Entil?”

  The Praetorian didn’t respond directly. Instead, he tilted his head slightly. “Not to save them. To stop this madness. To find something worth preserving in this endless war.”

  Nate scoffed, stepping closer. “And what? You think you’re some kind of savior? You’re Federation, same as us. You follow orders, same as us.”

  The Praetorian shook his head slowly. “I’ve seen enough to know when orders are hollow. This... this isn’t victory. It’s extinction.”

  For a moment, the two soldiers stared each other down, the tension thick in the air. The Imperators weren’t used to being questioned—especially not by a fellow soldier of the Federation.

  “What’s your name, Praetorian?” Sahaad finally asked, his voice low but commanding.

  The figure paused before answering. “Valen Korr.”

  “Rank?”, Sahaad asked, motioning for him to continue.

  “I no longer possess a rank, not in 150 years”

  “I’ve heard of Praetorians who turned traitors,” Sahaad said, his tone a mix of accusation and disdain. “Allying with the enemies of the Federation, abandoning their oaths. Is that what you are, Korr? A deserter?”

  For a moment, the ash-choked wind was the only sound. Then, with deliberate slowness, the Praetorian pivoted to face the squad again.

  “Traitor?” Valen’s voice carried a cold edge, his helmet reflecting the dull glow of distant fires. “Is that what they call us now? Convenient label for those who see through the lies.”

  Sahaad took a step forward, his grip tightening on his gravity rifle. “The Federation fights for humanity’s survival. We’ve crushed tyrants, invaders, and monsters in the name of unity. Whatever delusion you’re clinging to, it’s a betrayal of everything we’ve sacrificed.”

  Valen chuckled, a low, bitter sound that echoed in the empty streets. “Sacrifice? You don’t even know what you’ve given up. You think the Entil are your enemy? The Randir? ” He gestured toward the ruins around them. “They’re just distractions. Pawns in a far greater game. The true enemies are not who you think”

  Ji stepped forward, his voice laced with skepticism. “And what would you know about it, Praetorian? You talk big, but all we see is a soldier too afraid to follow orders.”

  Valen’s head tilted slightly, his posture unmoved by Ji’s challenge. “I’ve fought longer than any of you. Seen things you wouldn’t believe. The true enemies aren’t out there in alien fleets or on broken worlds. They’re the ones pulling the strings.They consume everything and spit it back out as torn,broken things”.

  Zara crossed her arms, her tone icy. “If you’re going to preach conspiracy, at least make it believable.”

  Valen sighed, his shoulders rising and falling under the weight of his armor. “You Imperators... you’re still blind. Maybe it’s the indoctrination, or maybe it’s your pride. But one day, you’ll see the truth. And when you do, you’ll understand why I walk this path.”

  Sahaad’s jaw tightened as the Praetorian’s dismissive words echoed in his mind. His training, his purpose, his very identity as an Imperator burned within him like a beacon of resolve. Traitors were enemies of humanity, and their directive was clear: all enemies must be eradicated.

  Without hesitation, Sahaad raised his gravity rifle, the weapon humming with lethal energy as he aimed it squarely at the Praetorian’s back. His voice cut through the ash-filled air, sharp and commanding.

  “Valen Korr, by the authority of the Federation and the Imperator Corps, you are deemed a traitor to humanity. Your life is forfeit.”

  The other Imperators instinctively moved into combat stances, their weapons primed, though hesitation flickered briefly in Zara’s posture.

  Valen froze mid-step. For a moment, the towering figure didn’t move, as if the words had struck him harder than any bullet could. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned, his visor locking onto Sahaad’s.

  “You think you know your enemy, Imperator?” Valen said, his voice calm yet dripping with disdain. “You point that weapon at me and call me a traitor, but you don’t even understand who you’re really serving.”

  Sahaad’s grip on the rifle tightened, his tone unwavering. “Save your rhetoric. I serve humanity, and you’ve chosen to betray it.”

  Valen took a step closer, unarmed but radiating a confidence that bordered on defiance. “You serve humanity? No. You serve those who have twisted humanity into a machine. A tool. And you’re too blind to see it.”

  Nate growled, stepping forward. “Enough of this. Let’s put him down and move on.”

  But before anyone could act, Valen raised a hand, his movements slow and deliberate. “You could pull that trigger,” he said, his tone quieter now. “But ask yourself this—how many more cities will you burn? How many lives will you take? And for what?”

  For the first time, a flicker of doubt crossed Sahaad’s mind. He buried it quickly, his voice harsh and resolute. “Stand down, or I’ll take the shot.”

  Valen stared at him for a long moment, then let his hand fall to his side. “Go ahead, Imperator. Pull the trigger. Prove to me that you’re nothing more than a pawn.”

  The tension in the air was palpable as the squad watched Sahaad, waiting for his decision.