The first light of dawn, like a soft veil, slowly spread over the outline of a city that had just survived a cataclysm.
The smoke of yesterday still seemed to linger faintly in some corners, but more present was a vigorous new vitality waking with the morning glow.
Especially in the city's slums, once dirty, crowded, and forgotten.
At this moment, they had become a vast construction site. Unlike before, the main workforce was not human laborers, but large numbers of sleek, highly efficient Hex robots.
These automated units, deployed by the Engineering Ministry, worked like diligent ants, following preset programs to renovate and build with astounding efficiency.
They used laser cutters to precisely demolish dangerous buildings, composite 3D-printing arms to erect new structural frames, and multifunction arms for interior finishing and piping.
Shabby shacks and tottering tenements were being rapidly leveled. In their place rose the outlines of modular megastructure apartments—clean-lined, solid in construction, uniform in appearance yet not cold—as well as planned public green spaces, community centers, and medical stations.
For the poor who had struggled to survive here, the past felt like a distant nightmare.
They had woken each day worrying about their next meal—how to fend off hunger with the cheapest synthetic bread, how to find a relatively warm corner in the wind to curl up…
Now, it seemed everything had changed overnight.
At temporary distribution points where Auxiliary soldiers maintained order, people no longer needed to pay anything to receive hot, nutritionally balanced meals, even fresh fruit and clean drinks rarely seen in the past.
More incredible still, those brand-new apartment blocks rising from the ground were not out-of-reach dreams. Community staff made it clear that all of them could move in free of charge and have a true home of their own to keep out wind and rain.
Hope, like the morning sun, shone for the first time so tangibly into this once-forgotten corner.
Among those waiting for a new life, a particular grandfather and grandson drew the eye.
The elderly man was named Moose Gulangbang, nearly seventy. The years and life's hardships had carved furrows into his face. His back was stooped by long labor and malnutrition. He clutched a worn travel bag in his hand—everything they owned.
The boy was John Gulangbang, around ten years old, small and pale, but his eyes shone bright with curiosity at the sights before him. He clung tightly to his grandfather's side, little hand gripping the coarse hem of his coat.
Just then, a young woman in a standard Imperial community work uniform—plain in color but fully featured—walked over with a datapad in hand and a formulaic yet warm smile.
"Moose Gulangbang and John Gulangbang, correct? Please come with me. Your assigned residence is ready."
The two exchanged a glance, eyes full of nerves and a barely believable hope.
Gulangbang nodded quickly, pulling his grandson along, stumbling a little as they followed the staffer's steady pace.
They passed through an area still under construction yet orderly and headed toward an apartment building whose exterior was complete and which carried the scent of new materials.
The automatic sensor doors slid open without a sound. Inside was a bright, clean lobby—simple in decor, but warmly lit, with floors polished to a mirror shine.
They followed the staffer into a silent-running lift and rose to a middle floor.
The corridor was equally wide and bright, flanked by identical doors.
The staffer stopped at a door near the end. It was a sturdy composite, conveying safety and privacy.
"This is your residence, Unit B12, 17th Floor."
As she spoke, she drew three physical keycards from the side of the datapad and handed them to Gulangbang, then guided the pair to register their biometrics on a terminal embedded in the wall by the door.
"Both the cards and your biometrics are keys. Please keep the cards safe as a backup."
She did not leave immediately after finishing. Looking at the old man and the boy, her tone stayed even as she explained clearly:
"For daily life, all three meals can be had in the public cafeterias on marked floors like Three and Nine of the building. Hours are six to eight in the morning, eleven thirty to one thirty at midday, and five thirty to seven thirty in the evening.
Food is provided for free, but please remember: do not waste. Take only what you need.
The Empire advocates conserving resources. Any waste will be recorded and may result in deductions from your personal credit points. Serious cases will face corresponding community service or other penalties. Please keep this in mind."
She paused, her gaze passing over their faces, and continued:
"In addition, according to the Diwuzu Legion's Social Affairs Department, John Gulangbang lacks a guardian, and you, Mr. Moose Gulangbang, due to advanced age, have been deemed unable to continue regular labor.
Given this, the Legion will grant your family special care and ongoing welfare support.
Starting this month, a fixed amount of credit points will be transferred to the account bound to your identity information each month, for expenses beyond basic living needs."
Her tone grew more solemn. "At the same time, under the Imperial Basic Human Act, the Empire guarantees twelve years of free compulsory education for all school-age children.
John is of school age. He will register at a nearby Imperial public school. All educational costs from primary through pre-university will be covered by the Empire.
A specific notice will be sent to the terminal in your room. Please watch for it."
After laying out everything, the staffer's formulaic smile returned:
"Alright, those are the fundamentals.
There's a detailed living guide in the room. If you have any questions, you can contact the community service center via the in-room comms terminal.
I wish you a pleasant life." With that, she dipped her head and turned to leave.
Only the two remained in the corridor.
Gulangbang gripped the "cold" keycards, feeling them as heavy as a thousand pounds. He drew a deep breath, hands trembling, and held a card to the sensor.
With a soft "beep," the lock disengaged.
John, impatient yet a bit timid, stepped into the apartment.
The sight that met them took both their breath away.
It was not especially large, but the two-bedroom unit had an exceptionally rational layout and a warm feel.
Warm beige walls, gleaming composite wood floors, and simple, practical recessed lights cast a gentle glow.
Opposite the door was a small, tasteful living room: a set of comfortable, durable fabric sofas around a low table, and on the wall an interface reserved for a display receiver.
One side of the room opened to a balcony with floor-to-ceiling windows. The morning sun spilled in without hindrance, filling the room with brightness and warmth.
To the left were two adjacent bedrooms.
The primary was slightly larger, with a single bed and a wardrobe. The smaller room was clearly for John, with a bed of the right size and even a desk.
Both bedrooms had windows for ventilation and light.
To the right of the living room was a fully equipped separate kitchen, its white counters fitted with an energy range, refrigeration unit, and cleaning appliances. They might not need them immediately, but the completeness reassured.
Beside the kitchen was a clean bathroom with dry-wet separation, a shower, toilet, and sink.
In another corner of the living room, a small study space had even been set aside with a desk and a chair, clearly intended for the child's future studies.
Everything was brand-new and clean, the air carrying that distinctive scent of a new home.
There was no damp or mold of the slums, no street clamor or danger—only a peace and stability like never before.
John tilted his head up, eyes shining in disbelief. He tugged his grandfather's coat, voice trembling:
"Grandpa… are we… are we dreaming?"
The old man did not answer at once. He reached out a callused hand and stroked the smooth wall with a tremble, feeling its reality, then looked around at this well-appointed, downright luxurious "home."
Clouded tears finally overwhelmed him, spilling down the deep lines of his face.
He crouched, held his grandson tight, and spoke hoarsely, full of boundless emotion and relief:
"Not a dream… not a dream… we… we really… have good days ahead now…"
On this new morning, in this new home, hope was no longer an unreachable fantasy. It had become the "weighty" keycard in hand, the warm sunlight spilling in from the window, the tears of newborn joy as grandfather and grandson embraced.
The scene shifted, the "camera" moving from the hopeful warmth of morning on the surface to the cold void of near-Earth orbit on the sunlit side of the Dead Space Earth.
The Renwei Yonggu, as grand as a moving mountain range, hung in an orbit between the blue planet and the brilliant sun.
Inside the bridge, in stark contrast to the quiet of space outside, reigned a highly focused, impeccably ordered bustle.
Countless holo-screens floated in the air, with data streams pouring like waterfalls. Ordinary auxiliaries in standard uniforms conferred in low tones at their stations and worked efficiently, while Diwuzu officers in light power armor stood like "sea-calming pillars" at key posts, ensuring the smooth operation of this flagship and the nerve center of the entire legion.
Beside the central console—the broadest vantage point overlooking the entire command area—Sui Meng stood with his back to the main viewport, arms folded, eyes on the strategic star chart showing the entire solar system.
At five and a half meters tall, he radiated an invisible pressure even in that grand space.
Thud, thud.
Heavy, rhythmic footfalls approached.
A Diwuzu in a unique model of Terminator armor, engraved with intricate patterns and personal battle honors, came to the central console.
His height exceeded three meters, burly even among Astartes—one of Sui Meng's most trusted adjutants.
The weight of the Terminator armor did not make him seem clumsy; rather, it added to his solidity and gravitas.
He stopped at a proper distance, dipped his head in respect, and began his report. His low, clear voice, carried through the helm's speakers, echoed in the relatively quiet central command area.
"Father, at your command, presenting a consolidated report on the current situation.
On Earth, order across major regions has basically stabilized.
The clearance rate of remaining corpse-mutant threats has reached 99.8%. Scattered individuals can no longer pose an effective threat.
All known senior officials of the former Earth Federation have, according to their crimes and degree of resistance, either been purged or detained. Their administrative system has fully collapsed. Our legion's provisional military government and advance personnel from the Interior Ministry have assumed comprehensive control.
As for the former Earth Defense Force (EDF), its rank-and-file units, after evaluation, have been deliberately broken up from their original formations. After removing unstable elements and hardliners, they are being reconstituted and initially retrained in accordance with the Imperial Guard Basic Drill Manual.
Loyalty screening and ideological education are underway in parallel. We estimate an initial auxiliary defensive capability will form within three months.
Within the solar system, all colonies, including major sites like Mars, Venus, and Europa, have confirmed acceptance of Diwuzu Legion rule.
Our fleets and ground forces have completed deployment at key nodes without encountering effective resistance.
Colonial resource output and industrial facilities are being progressively integrated into the Imperial economic system.
Regarding the Unification Church, their mid-to-high-level backbone—every known regional bishop, cardinal, and above—has been comprehensively purged under the heresy-clearing directive. Confirmed: none escaped.
For the vast number of basic believers, most of whom were drawn in by deception and incitement, compulsory ideological reformation has begun.
The core text is the Emperor's personally compiled Basic Popular Edition of the Human Codex, supplemented with historical truth education.
Branches of the Inquisition have intervened and will conduct long-term, rigorous monitoring and evaluation of this population to ensure heretical thought does not rekindle and to prevent a renewed organized threat."
The adjutant's concise summary spanned military, political, and social realms, displaying the Diwuzu Legion's efficient, unsparing integration in a short time.
Sui Meng listened quietly, eyes never leaving the dragon crests on the star chart—symbols of Imperial control flashing steadily.
Only when the adjutant finished did he nod slightly to show he had heard.
"The situation is initially in hand. Consolidation work must continue and cannot slacken."
His voice was steady, betraying no mood. "Wu Ji, compile a detailed consolidated report on all current conditions, including military deployments, administrative takeover progress, resource assessments, social stability data, and potential risk analysis. Encrypt it and upload to the Prime Universe to present to the Emperor."
As his words fell, the air before the central console filled with countless minute, blue-glimmering hard-light particles.
As if guided by an invisible hand, they converged and took shape in a blink, sketching a clear humanoid silhouette—
a woman with a straight bearing and fine features, touched with martial poise.
She wore a tailored, minimal yet dignified white service uniform, with bright red soft-armor at shoulders and elbows.
Her long hair was neatly pinned back, and starlight seemed to flow slowly in her eyes.
This was the legion's dedicated strategic sapient AI—
Wu Ji.
Her existence was one of the core guarantees of the legion's efficient operations and data analysis.
"Directive confirmed, Lord Primarch."
Wu Ji's image bowed to Sui Meng. Her voice was pleasant, but held no extraneous emotion—only absolute reason and efficiency.
"All data are being integrated. Final verification and encryption are completing. Uploading immediately through a secure channel to the designated receiving node in the Prime Universe."
Sui Meng nodded, acknowledging her efficiency.
He paused slightly, thinking, and his gaze returned to the star chart, finally settling on the Earth of Dead Space.
At last he spoke again, his tone flat, yet issuing an order enough to affect the future of an entire star system—indeed, the entire universe:
"Also, Wu Ji, append to the report a request for the Emperor's approval—The Diwuzu Legion applies to deploy the Grand Device Array."
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/Mutter
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.