Chapter 13: The Feast at Hongmen
"My lord, what should we do? Why was the child so reckless this time?"
Inside the palace, Malcador paced restlessly.
"I may have placed too much pressure upon her. Without reliable intelligence, she has grown impatient."
The Emperor remained composed.
"Valdor. Deploy three hundred Custodian Guard to the southernmost region of the Indonesian territories. Upon my signal, they will break any encirclement and extract the Princess."
Valdor bowed and withdrew.
The Emperor's gaze settled upon the strategic hololith.
His intention was clear: using Albia as a strategic fulcrum, he would next eliminate the Moransen Federation — a polity steeped in warp-tainted cult practices. He did not wish Yuki exposed to such corruption prematurely.
"Oh, Malcador," he added, almost as an afterthought, "you met with him recently. Your assessment?"
Malcador stopped pacing and sighed.
"He remains… far from your expectations."
"Give him time," the Emperor replied softly.
Pacific Rim Hive Metropolis
A squadron of Stormhawk transports cut through Terra's smog-choked skies.
Below loomed a hive-city vast enough to swallow horizons.
They landed at a deserted port.
Yuki stepped out and listened.
Silence.
Not the mechanical silence of industry — she could hear engines, cargo platforms, the distant grind of manufactoria.
But there were no voices.
In a hive housing hundreds of millions, that absence was unnatural.
The Thunder Warriors instantly formed a defensive line.
From the haze ahead, a vast formation advanced.
Not a patrol.
An army.
At least ten thousand Iron Men marched forward — their plating immaculate, weapon systems modernized, far superior to the relic machines deployed by the Indonesian Federation.
They halted thirty meters away.
Then, in perfect synchronization—
they produced instruments.
Drums.
Brass horns.
Accordions.
The machines began to play.
The sound was discordant and alien, devoid of rhythm or soul.
Yuki stared in disbelief.
The engines of humanity's ancient downfall…
were serving as a ceremonial band.
When the performance ended, the Iron Men divided into two ranks, forming a ceremonial avenue.
At its far end stood Nathan Doom, immaculate in a tailored suit, smiling as if greeting honored guests at a gala.
"This host does not appear friendly," Yuki murmured.
"Your Highness," a Thunder Warrior whispered, "we are the visitors."
"Princess of the Himalazian Imperium," Doom said warmly as he approached. His azure eyes gleamed with unsettling enthusiasm.
He seized Yuki's hand in both of his.
"Stay away from Her Highness."
A Thunder Warrior leveled his weapon at Doom's head.
Doom chuckled and released her hand.
"Commander Ilya, do not be rash. If you destroy my brain, the Iron Men of the Pacific Rim Directorate will lose central governance. Surely the Imperium does not wish to face half a million berserk automata."
He inhaled deeply, as if savoring the air around her.
Yuki nearly turned and left.
No.
Absolutely not.
She forced composure.
"So, Lord Doom — why have you summoned me?"
"Ah! The important matter." He beamed. "I have prepared a banquet. Let us speak over dinner."
The Banquet
"Is the cuisine not to Your Highness's liking? How unfortunate."
From the moment the food arrived, Yuki and her escort did not touch it. They watched Doom eat with enthusiasm while Iron Men served the courses.
No attendants.
No servants.
No witnesses.
"Where is everyone?" Yuki asked coldly.
"Oh, them?" Doom swallowed delicately. "Their presence would have introduced noise. I silenced them."
Yuki's expression hardened.
He continued:
"I know what you are attempting. But I assure you — your father cannot succeed."
"If my father cannot," she replied, "who can? You?"
"Yes."
Her first genuine smile appeared.
"If you possess such power, why hide in a corner of Terra?"
"Because conquest does not interest me. What you know, I know. What you do not know, I also know.
I know the secrets of Terra's warlords.
I know the truth of the Iron Rebellion.
I understand the Warp.
I know your father is immortal.
And I know how immortals may be slain."
Yuki's pulse surged — but her expression did not change.
"Then join the Imperium," she said. "My father would welcome such talent."
"No. What I desire is beyond his power to grant — and he would never tolerate my existence."
"What do you want?"
"To help you."
He produced a small box and opened it.
Inside lay a ring crowned with a white gemstone, luminous with faint internal light.
"This device links directly to the Iron Men under my authority. Wear it, and you command them. Tell me, Your Highness — is this gift satisfactory?"
"So generous," she said coolly.
"This is not generosity," he replied softly. "It is love. I love you, Your Highness. Does this not prove it?"
Yuki closed the box and pocketed it.
"If that is all, we will depart."
"Goodbye, Your Highness," Doom said with a serene smile. "We will meet again."
Yuki spoke little.
The Thunder Warriors exchanged glances.
She was furious.
Upon landing, she struck a five-meter stone outcrop.
It shattered into gravel beneath her fist.
"Your Highness," Irigos said quietly, "give the order. We will sever that creature's head."
"That is not why I am angry."
Something had been wrong from the beginning.
Knowing her name was trivial.
Knowing Irigos's name — never publicly spoken — was not.
At the banquet, Doom had effectively declared:
I know your plans.
If he truly possessed half a million Iron Men, the Imperium could not risk open confrontation.
Even annihilating the city with orbital or heavy weapons was unacceptable. Civilian populations remained. A young Imperium could not afford to discard human lives as expendable.
She removed the small box.
Her safe return had depended on delivering it.
She would place it directly into the Emperor's hands.
"Father?"
No response.
She reached out again psychically.
Nothing.
"Uncle Malcador, where is Father?"
"His Majesty is prosecuting an assault upon the Moransen Federation," Malcador replied. "What has happened?"
"I must speak with him in person. I'm going to him now."
Malcador sighed.
The child was relentless.
"What is the matter, teacher?" a young voice asked nearby.
"Nothing that concerns you," Malcador replied. "Continue your studies, Alpharius."
"Understood."