I am the Emperor of Humanity across the Multiverse

Forty hours later, in the interplanetary space between Earth and Mars, the region was pitch black, with only the faintest starlight dotting the silence.

Suddenly, a fleet came into view, swiftly advancing toward Mars. Yet, to the naked eye, it seemed as though the fleet was trapped in a time vortex, moving at a snail's pace.

This was the Atlas fleet, comprised of five Selene-class transport ships and two Fides-class frigates.

The two Fides-class frigates, with stronger magnetic field protection and more durable armor, led the formation, while the five Selene-class ships followed behind, arranged in a triangular "△" formation, navigating through the void.

As for the Reaper mothership they needed to intercept, it was impossible to spot with the naked eye.

At that moment, inside the first Fides-class frigate, in a large operations briefing room, nearly a hundred officers, all fully equipped, sat in their assigned seats. Their expressions were solemn as they looked toward the holographic screen at the front of the room and at Saint Giles, standing to the right of it.

The officers were not wearing helmets, and the black, dark green, and light gray coatings on their fully enclosed combat suits indicated their respective units.

Sitting in the last row were the technical personnel dressed mostly in white, as well as Vulkan, Leman, Fulgrim, and Angron.

"Gentlemen," Saint Giles began in a calm, deep tone. "According to the company's intelligence team, we will encounter the Reaper mothership in forty-five minutes. 

At that point, the company fleet will engage the enemy head-on while doing everything possible to divert their attention and create an opening for our assault forces.

Additionally, the intelligence team suspects that the Reaper mothership is equipped with an energy shield generator.

If the fleet's full firepower cannot penetrate the shield, we will move to the second plan, which involves sending a small elite unit aboard Puffin assault craft to infiltrate the mothership.

The intelligence team believes that while the energy shield can respond and defend against fast-moving objects, there is a chance it won't detect Puffin assault craft using stealth mode and controlled speeds.

However, this second plan will only be implemented as a last resort. After all, our understanding of the enemy's shield technology is based solely on speculation, making this an extremely risky move."

Saint Giles paused, sweeping his gaze across the room, and then, like his father, he delivered a pre-battle speech: "Gentlemen, I know we are about to face a tremendously difficult battle.

But this is also the most important mission in the history of the company and of humanity in the main universe.

My father once told me he thought the first space battle would be sparked by competition for resources between humans.

However, future history books will record that the first space battle was fought by Atlas' finest warriors, who gave their all for humanity and their home, ultimately defeating the alien scum that invaded the solar system!

That's right—no matter what happens, we must complete this mission, because behind us is Earth, the home of seven billion of our fellow human beings!

Now, does anyone have any questions?"

At this point, Saint Giles' voice rose with passion, and his wings slowly unfolded, radiating a faint golden glow.

"No!" came the collective response from the officers.

"Good." Saint Giles nodded slightly. "Make your preparations. Once the fleet creates an opening, we will enter the enemy mothership."

"Yes, sir!"

——

At the same time, in the operations briefing room of a Selene-class transport ship:

"Yes, sir!" 

A similar chorus of officers responded in unison.

On the holographic screen at the front of the room, Saint Giles' speech and actions were broadcast to the assembled personnel.

With the "prepare for action" command, Saint Giles ended the video transmission, and the atmosphere in the room grew busy.

The officers stood up and left the meeting room, filling the crowded corridors. Among them was Lieutenant James Thompson, a veteran with a buzz cut and a scar on his lip.

James was a native of Earth in Universe Zero-Four (Netherworld) and had participated in numerous inter-universe combat missions, earning him a distinguished record.

Due to his extensive combat experience, the company had urgently reassigned him to the Dawn, a Selene-class transport ship, to join Saint Giles and his comrades from Earth Zero-Four in the raid on the Reaper mothership.

Walking through the corridor, he saw his fellow lieutenant, Rod Hoineld, a man with a wife and two children, heading toward their AECS (Emergency Combat Response Unit) armory.

Seeing the crowd thin out, the corridor becoming less congested, James sidled up to Rod and said, "Hey, buddy, can you believe the boss's son really has wings?"

"Wasn't there an introduction about that on the company's website?" Rod replied.

"No, no, you're missing the point," James lowered his voice. "Think about it. The boss's son has wings, like an angel from mythology. So, what does that make the boss?"

"God," Rod said without hesitation. "That's not a secret in the company."

"Exactly! That's why I'm hoping for the boss's protection. According to the intel division, there are at least a billion alien scum on that Reaper mothership, and we've only got a few thousand men on our side," James said, feigning a grim expression.

"We have to win," Rod said firmly.

Rod's family had recently relocated from Earth Zero-Four to New Accra, where his children had access to better living conditions and educational resources. Naturally, he was determined to fight the Reapers to the end.

"You're right! We must win! I've got nothing to lose, but I'm fighting for my niece and nephew's future!" James, ever the optimist, threw his arm around his friend's shoulder. "I have a feeling this might be my final battle, a heroic sacrifice that'll make the history books!"

"Don't jinx it!" Rod elbowed him, clearly uncomfortable with such inauspicious talk before a battle.

"Hahaha, let's hope not."

Afterward, the two men returned to the armory, where they regrouped with their subordinates and received assistance from the logistics personnel to don their mechanical exoskeletons and protective armor.

With enough magazines, grenades, and weapons in hand, they led two special combat platoons to the ship's drop bay, where they boarded medium-sized drop pods, awaiting deployment in teams of nine.

About ten minutes later:

Beep—!

The lights in James' drop pod dimmed, and after a brief reminder tone, the captain's voice came over the intercom:

"This is Captain Sean Rice of the Dawn. All personnel, prepare for battle. The ship has entered stealth mode. We will coordinate with the fleet to launch the first salvo against the target at 10:15 AM, Pacific Standard Time, January 24th, 2000."

___________________

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