"Maybe we should just throw something down from here," said a soldier, standing in front of the armored-glass viewport, arms crossed as he looked outward. His black combat uniform bore the shield insignia of his division: a towering mountain, a golden eagle, and the Roman numeral I—marking him as a member of the First Secret Corps of Fimbulwinter. Together with his comrades, he gazed down at Earth, wrapped in its atmospheric glow.
"That's my home—Miami," he pointed vaguely. "I could wake my kid up to watch a shooting star!"
"More likely it'd just turn into space junk, Romeo—unless you're planning to toss down some ablative armor," his comrade replied. "The guys at the Mars Foundry are busy cleaning up post-war orbital debris. If you screw with their asteroid mining schedule, your kid won't even get academy eligibility. I guarantee if you cause a delay, you'll end up a mechanical slave working a plasma reactor."
"What else am I supposed to do!" Romeo shrugged. "It's not like I can see that missing team in the South American rainforest from up here."
"You don't need to. The higher-ups are already searching for them. Even if I wasn't a rank above you, I'd still know that. Honestly, I don't know how you've survived this long. And Juliet—how the hell does she put up with you? Did she marry you just because your name's Romeo?"
"She really does love Shakespeare."
"Now that's some flawless logic. I like it."
"Whatever. Sooner or later, someone will need to drop something down there."
"If the Monarch doesn't want to incinerate the entire South American rainforest, it's probably going to be us getting dropped instead." Azorlon blinked his story-worn black eyes. He was a veteran in both age and experience. "Maybe others, too. I've heard that team is highly significant. If the Sisterhood's First Blade joins the op, it'll be like back at Mount Fimbulwinter or in the town of Noiadun. I bet they'd love the chance to burn something to the ground—maybe a key leader of that evil organization will do the trick."
The power armor was just too damn stylish—especially Tita's ceremonial suit, which was stunningly ornate. Compared to the red-and-gold Stark Iron Man suits, it might fall short in functionality, but the Sisterhood's armor definitely had the aesthetic edge. According to the First Secret Corps' quartermaster, top-tier soldiers would eventually qualify for lightweight powered armor to enhance combat effectiveness, or even undergo surgical modifications to extend life and cure terminal illness.
"Or maybe it's shapeshifting aliens," Romeo sighed, lowering his hands. "I'm worried about my family, Azorlon. What if there's a Skrull near them?"
"Don't worry. We were among the first to be screened. The Monarch will protect our families. It's way better than being deployed in Afghanistan—no IEDs everywhere, no shady CIA sneaking around. We're fighting to protect humanity, not Wall Street's bottom line." Azorlon clapped him lightly on the shoulder. "And hey—we've got generous pensions. Plus… life hasn't been the same since."
"Yeah… that was unforgettable…" Robert pressed a hand to his uniform collar. Beneath the ballistic armor hung a gold eagle pendant, a gift from the Sisterhood after the Battle of Fimbulwinter. He had been seriously wounded, but thanks to Eternal City's advanced medical tech, he received a cloned kidney, cloned stomach, and partial intestines—plus a health policy that granted him one life-extension surgery.
To be honest, the gifts Eternal City gave to its soldiers were things the outside world's elites craved. Every soldier in the First Secret Corps understood that the price tag of those surgeries far exceeded the value of their own lives.
Secret War: Phase One · Nine Days Prior
"We did find Trinity's attack helicopter—but it was wreckage. The search team also located debris from the plane Lara Croft had been on. Preliminary assessment suggests a forced landing. No bodies were found near the crash site. Based on drag marks and debris trails, we believe they're moving northwest—destination might be the city of Requena. After that, our team found more traces: Trinity corpses and signs of a firefight… plasma weapon signatures confirmed…"
"Lara Croft has been missing too long. The Monarch values her highly. We absolutely cannot allow him to become anxious," Stephanie waved her hand, cutting off her secretary's report. Her desk was piled with files, parchment scrolls, and large data storage devices. A small black kitten lay on its back among the clutter, fast asleep like a furry little paperweight. Though not fond of cats, Stephanie tolerated this one—aware of the pact between the Black Panther God and Solomon. She only lost patience when the kitten began clawing at things—but even then, her anger threshold had been unusually low lately. Even Diana Lister had noticed.
"Where's the satellite report? Have the space station start scanning. Whether Lara Croft is alive or dead, we must find her. Issue a search-and-destroy order to the Sisterhood."
"We don't have the authority, ma'am," Diana flinched at the very idea.
"Then use the Monarch's authority." Stephanie pulled a seal from her drawer. "He gave me this because he knows I'll use his power properly. Carry out the order. I want full cooperation from the intelligence division. And for the life of me, I still don't know what the Monarch sees in Lara Croft. Is it just her body? I'll admit she is beautiful…"
Diana Lister dared not say a word. Not until ten minutes later was she finally able to leave the office. It was the first time she felt this kind of unprecedented workplace pressure. Having a temperamental boss clearly wasn't enjoyable. The Hydra blood running through her veins instinctively suppressed her tears. The Lister family's generational education methods were finally kicking in—though she hadn't always understood them, being part of the power core now awakened memories of all the lessons Dr. Lister had drilled into her.
"If one were to rank the Empire's most important figures, Diana Lister would undoubtedly make the list. No one could have imagined that the woman who would one day hold a seat in Parliament—stand beside the Emperor, influence his decisions, and impact the lives of billions—was driven by ambition born from the pressure of a tyrannical superior.
I say this because the Lister family biography supports it. As a mortal, Diana Lister's influence far surpassed the limits of her status. She became a peer of famed imperial figures like Stephanie Malik, Director of the Executive Council—all due to the Lister family's generational education system.
To learn more, please purchase my book: The Lister Method, by renowned historian D'Artagnan. Available in major bookstores across Terra. A must-read classic for parents of primary and secondary students across the Empire—give your child a head start on life."
[This section has been deleted]
— Imperial History: Second Revised Edition, 125th Editorial Draft
— Cultural Department · Publications and Censorship Review Board: Rejected for Publication
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