From the moment Envoy Cyril Minsk's shuttle picked her up from Gibraltar III, Julia was surrounded by a subtle degree of lavishness absent from the Union of Ten. As a diplomat, Julia Kai was accustomed to luxury far above what was available to the average person from the ten races forming the Union. At first, she didn’t pay attention to the small things, such as the real leather seats or the natural marble on the countertops inside her sleeping quarters. But as they neared the birthplace of humanity—Hell—such small luxuries became the standard inside the few space stations they stopped to rest at and refuel and resupply. Even the clothing of the few people she saw during that time was of a quality to rival anything in her wardrobe. That was when Julia realised why that old fox Minks had used a shuttle. The lavishness of the diplomatic frigate, which picked them up at the no-void entry point of the Sol System, would have overwhelmed her.

However, everything she saw during her journey was rendered meaningless the moment Julia had her first glimpse of the world while the frigate entered the atmosphere of the Holy Garden of Hell.

She stood paralysed in her seat, mouth agape and her breath caught in her chest. The beauty of ancient Terra was unmatched and frightening. Thick, toxic storm clouds engulfed the glass dome of the Capital Habitat, bathing it in torrential acid rain. It stood alone and defiant in the midst of a vast desert of black sand, refusing to be swallowed by the inhospitable surface of the planet, just as humanity refused to be erased from their ancestral home. All the while, strong winds threw the coarse sand and volcanic dust at the blasted basalt mountain with its foreboding and oppressive peeks separating the Capital Habitat from the burning sea of magma in the valley below. The pale light of the sun, which managed to break through the dark greenish clouds, bathed the surroundings in a shade of white she did not imagine possible. Forked red lightning sprites struck mercilessly and danced across the titanic support structure of the dome protecting the Capital, only to discharge harmlessly into the ground. It was a nightmarish sight to behold, a clear testament to why humanity had renamed the planet Hell.

But all of this contrasted with the tranquillity inside the metropolis-sized Habitat. The moment Julia exited the spaceport building and set foot on the soil of the Holy Garden of Hell, she was surrounded by tall green, red, orange, and yellow trees originating from all over the galaxy. Trimmed violet grass outlined the road, and paved paths snaked under the shade of the vegetation. A multitude of people walked, worked or simply enjoyed a moment to themselves, unfazed by the violent storm outside, and she had to agree with them. But what surprised her the most was the revelation that those were the lowest of the low—slaves and forced labourers. And yet, they wore clothes worthy of a noble or a Muqads Priest. The free citizens and the Terran nobles were secluded in their richly decorated walkers and hovercars. Julia could only sigh in frustration, thinking of how she was supposed to report all this to the Higharcs when a slight breeze caressed the back of her neck, stirring childhood memories of the carefree late autumn days on her homeworld of Trauth. Enormous illuminators hanging from the top of the titanium beams of the superstructure of the Habitat completed the illusion that this place was a paradise. A man-made heaven in the midst of hell.

At that moment, Julia understood the loyalty of the Holy Empire’s soldiers. The inhabitants of Terra had created the impossible, which had to be protected at any cost. Yes, she understood this feeling as a member of the human race, despite her loyalty to the Union of Ten. However, because she was a diplomat from the Union, Julia also felt jealous of the people of Hell. No matter where she looked, Julia couldn’t see any sign of the rusted and re-purposed machinery she was so used to, which she assumed was the pinnacle of engineering. In that brief moment, she wondered if there was any point in meeting the Blessed Saint. This view alone was enough to convince her that there was no future for an independent Union of Ten. There was only one option she could recommend to the Higharcs—submission.

Before she knew it, Julia was passing beneath the arched walls of the Imperial Place, riding in the Envoy’s luxurious ground vehicle. Large cupolas and terraced towers decorated each of the smaller buildings that made up the Outer Palace. From the briefs she read, she knew that the twenty square kilometres complex of white polished stone and bronze structures was where the representatives of the noble Houses of the Echelone resided and worked. It was also home to the majority of the Imperial administration, and, most importantly, the Cathedral of the Terran Spirit Made Manifest was located there. Julia’s understanding of the Church of the Hell might have been limited since the Blessed Saint Emperor Constantine IV Rütter was both the head of state and head of the church; nevertheless, the influence of the religious leaders could not be underestimated. Of course, the Outer Palace would be her home for the next month. A frustratingly limited timeframe considering the tasks the Higharcs had placed on her. She would need at minimum six months to convince the Echelone to shift the Empire’s expansion away from the territories of the Union.

However, to Julia’s bewilderment, the car didn’t stop at the villa allocated to her and her staff, heading towards the gates of the Inner Palace instead. The home of the Blessed Saint and the Imperial family was the only structure of the Holy Garden located outside of the protection of the Central Habitat. Why someone would willingly expose themselves to the toxic atmosphere of Hell was beyond her comprehension. Though she suspected that, most likely, there were some internal atmospheric and climate regulators in place to make the Inner Palace hospitable. Still, her meeting with the Emperor wasn’t scheduled for another three days.

“Envoy Minsk, is there a reason we are taking a detour from the official route?” Julia made sure to keep her voice calm and sound as nonchalant as possible.

“I was hoping it would take you a little longer to notice.” The old man sitting across from her smiled warmly, but there was no mistaking the mischievous glean in his eyes. “Officially, your transport will arrive at the Edmond Villa in ten minutes. Due to an unfortunate delay, the members of your staff will be arriving there in two hours.”

“And unofficially?” She revealed just enough vexation in the question to wipe off the smile from Cyril’s face. Julia was seasoned enough to know that the Empire would try something like this; however, she expected a little more subtlety from them.

“I’ll be direct, Your Excellency.” Minsk’s expression darkened as he leaned back in the seat. “The higher-ups are tired of this game you and I have been playing for the last year. Your visit to the Holy Garden of Hell is just a formality to make everyone feel civilised. However, it is a farce. I know it, you know it, His Holiness knows it, and your Higharcs know it.”

“Well, since we are being painfully honest, Cyril, why bother with dragging me to the Inner Palace?” Julia mimicked the sternness of his voice, scoring a small victory as the Envoy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. So far, she had been soft-spoken and well-mannered, to the point that the old man probably assumed she was a drone without a spine. “Why not just fill my schedule with pointless meetings with less influential Echelone Houses and cultural events.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Lady Kai. There will be plenty of those. Right now, your secretary is probably having a meltdown at the double and triple bookings. On the bright side, you’ll have the chance to visit half the Habitats during your stay on Hell.”

“Tripple bookings? Really? That’s a bit childish, isn’t it?”

“Petty, actually.” Minsk sighed and poured himself a finger of a blackish drink with a distinctive alcohol smell, dawning it in one go and scoffing. “It’s all Lord Ridt’s idea. Sadly, the Bishop of Foreign Affairs is not a man blessed with imagination. If it were up to me, I’d have you sitting through as many sessions in the Echelone Chamber as humanly possible under the pretext that you need to better understand the inner workings of Terran politics before any conversations with individual Houses could happen.”

“And let me guess, the Houses I would be allowed to meet would be outliers with no influence or shunned outcasts.” Julia chuckled while Cyril raised his glass and gave her an amused nod. “But I am yet to hear the answer to my question, Envoy Minks.”

“To put it simply, the Echolne have made their minds, and they have enough influence over the Church of the Third Hell to stir the masses even if His Holiness remains silent on the matter. However, the Blessed Saint still hopes that an all-out war with the Union of Ten can be avoided.”

“But he will not intervene if it comes to it…” Julia’s voice trailed off as her mind kicked into overdrive, analysing the Envoy’s words, trying to discern truth from falsehood.

She couldn’t blindly trust his words as it was very likely that he was intentionally misleading her. Sure, working with Cyril over the last twelve months as the Union and the Empire tried to find a diplomatic solution to the border friction taught her that the old man was a rare breed of diplomat—cunning, honourable and surprisingly straightforward. But he was an Envoy of the Holy Terran Empire, and everything he did had the sole purpose of furthering his masters’ goals. Julia could use her gifts to strip the truth from Mink’s mind, but doing so would put her at risk and destroy all of her hard work. The temptation was real. However, the Empire’s stand on psionically gifted humans was quite clear. Her kind were not considered as people and were treated as slaves at best or as a pest in need of extermination at worst. As a foreign diplomat, she could argue that the Imperial doctrine didn’t apply to her, but she wasn’t willing to bet her life on it. Not to mention that revealing herself would simply be used as an excuse to invade the Union of Ten. After all, unsanctioned human psionics were strictly forbidden from stepping foot on Hell’s surface, and those of a different species would be shot on sight regardless of their status.

Instead, she forced her mind to calm down and buried her powers even deeper in her subconsciousness. Risking exposing herself at this point couldn’t be justified, and she might need them later on. Curiosity was one of her greatest powers and worst flaws, making her take unnecessary risks; that’s why her tutors taught her analytical methods to satisfy it without using her psionic powers.

“Envoy Kai, I know that from your point of view—from the Union of Ten’s point of view—the Holy Terran Empire appears as a tyrannical, warmongering, bloodthirsty dominion bent on conquering all in its path.” Cyril Minsk spoke with a tired smile, misunderstanding her pause. “It is unfortunate that the independent human nations had to be brought back under Hell’s wing through force, thus only enforcing the misgivings and suspicions of the other alien races in our corner of the galaxy.”

Julia had heard the argument a hundred times before during their prolonged meetings. Although fragmented and incomplete, the historical records painted a clear picture that nothing good came out of ancient Terra. The humans, at least those born on their ancestral homeworld, were responsible for as much suffering and carnage as the Xith Stratocracy. It was unfortunate that the inhabitants of the Sol System were treated as the galactic boogeyman, but the Empire did nothing to improve their image.

“And you think demanding that the Union surrender all of its human citizens and human colonies to the Holy Empire is reasonable?” She sneered at him, somewhat tired of repeating the same things herself.

“When those demands were made, we had no previous knowledge of the Union of Ten. Our experience at the time was based on our interactions with the Ul, Barg’ha and, unfortunately, the Tchazarak. It was only after the extermination of the latter that we reached the Union’s borders.” The man poured himself another drink and stared into it for a second before continuing. “We could only hope that you could not be worse than the Ul in your treatment of humans. It didn’t help that the first Union world we stumbled onto was Sezuria IV.”

“Please, Cyril! You cannot seriously believe such a flimsy excuse for launching an invasion through the border systems!” Julia snapped as the memory of the sudden, unprovoked attack replayed in her mind. “Any remotely intelligent person would have realised that Sezuria IV was a prison colony for the criminally insane. Besides, you’ve had five years to change your views after the battle at Hespia.”

“We did.” Minks showed no reaction to her sudden emotional outburst. “That’s the only reason we are even bothering with finding a diplomatic solution to this mess. However, the Holy Terran Empire is in a complicated position.”

That last point was undisputed. Even the Higharcs were growing increasingly worried about the rapid expansion of the Xith into the Dark Rift around the Sagitta stars, and the Union of Ten had far fewer enemies than the fledgling Terran Imperium. It wouldn’t be long before the Xith armies knocked on either the Empire’s or the Union’s doorstep. Both options were equally possible since the galaxy wasn’t a flat disk. In reality, its thickness varied from a measly thousand light-years to the mind-boggling two million light-years in diameter.

“That’s the one thing I don’t understand, Envoy Minks.” Julia decided to change her approach in the hope of getting a straightforward answer from her imperial counterpart. “Why are you so insistent on starting a war with a far greater threat looming over the horizon?”

“For the same reason, the Union is refusing to submit to the Holy Empire. When you draw the line, we have the same end goal; it is the path to achieving it that differs,” Cyril sounded almost detached as he spoke. “One way or another, a clash between our nations is inevitable.”

“But why war? Why not try to find a peaceful solution?” She asked, feeling the honesty radiating from his thoughts.

Even if she tried to suppress her psionic gifts, the potency of the emotions the old men felt at this moment was simply overwhelming. It was strange to comprehend that he was vehemently opposed to an armed conflict; it made Julia wonder why he kept this conviction so well hidden all this time.

“Because there is no grounds for a compromise,” he shrugged. “Our Church of the Third Hell and your Muqads Priesthood are polar opposites.”

“Lord Minsk.” She interrupted before he could continue, feeling her ire rising. “If there’s no point in having diplomatic talks, why are you wasting my time? Your’s too.”

“I am but a humble servant.” Cyril somehow bowed while being seated. “It is His Holiness who requested to speak with you in person.”

That was not the answer she was expecting. “What? Why?”

“I told you why. His Holiness wants to avoid an all-out war with the Union of Ten.” Cyril didn’t hide his irritation as he spoke. Something was clearly off, and Julia felt the urge to use her psionic gifts to investigate. “I was told that His Holiness has prepared a document which he would like to present at the official meeting. It is only natural that He would like to discuss it with you beforehand.”

Julia was speechless. Such a development was beyond her wildest dreams. Carefully, she extended her psionic powers and probed the Imperial Envoy’s mind to be sure that she wasn’t hallucinating. Minks genuinely believed what he had just said. More than that, he wished to gloat and boast that the god-like Constantine IV Rütter had succeeded where everyone else failed. Quickly, she retracted her powers and masked her shiver at the raw emotions of adulations, which bordered on fanatical worship, with a shaky smile.

Before she could formulate a response, the vehicle came to a stop at the large marble plaza leading to the entrance of the Inner Palace. Two lines of female soldiers, twenty each, dropped from the sky and flanked the ground car and the large stairs leading to the massive ceremonial wooden door of the entrance. Their white and purple armour separated them from the normal guards Julia had seen on the walls and the city proper. But what impressed her most were the attachments on their backs. Shaped like the skeletal structure of wings, those were personalised ion-flight units. She had seen such things only on the attack craft of the Higharcs’ private armies. To think someone had managed to adapt them as personal flight units was insane. It only further cemented her conviction that the technological gap between the Holy Terran Empire and the Union of Ten was insurmountable.

“The Daeva,” Cyril spoke softly next to her. “The Unforgiven Daughters of Saint Lilith. Not everyone receives such a grand reception, Envoy Kai.” The old man smiled at her. “I hope, now, you believe my words of the importance His Holiness places on this meeting.”

She thought it was more like a show of power meant to intimidate her, but she kept quiet. Now was the time she had to act as a proper diplomat.

“I did not expect to be going through the front door for a secret meeting–”

Julia’s fascination with the ion-flight units was quickly replaced by a mixture of awe and fear as two large men emerged from shadowy alcoves next to the door. Nearly three meters tall and excessively augmented with cybernetic parts to the point they could not be called human, they opened the wooden door and returned to the shadows. But Julia didn’t need to probe the Envoy’s mind to understand what they were. These monstrosities were the real show of force she expected from the moment she stepped out of the spaceport. One look at them was enough for her to understand that each one of them could rival an armoured group from the Union’s elite walker division.

A moment later, a tall young man dressed in a guard’s combat uniform and with flowing silver hair dropping on his shoulders appeared in the centre of the opened gate as if stepping out of thin air and began to slowly approach the vehicle. Even though a good hundred meters separated them, she could feel his burning amber eyes fix on her through the tainted window of the ground car.

“What is he doing here? I specifically warned the Grand Custodian.” Julia heard the Envoy curse under his breath before the old man turned to her. “Please accept my apologies, Envoy Kai. This is where we will be parting ways. Very few a permitted to enter the Inner Palace, and alas, today, it appears I am not one of them.”

“I don’t think I understand, Lord Minsk,” Julia wanted to brush against his thoughts, but doing so here would be too much of a risk. Without a doubt, there were Exonychisti psi-scryers—enslaved psionics used by the Empire’s religious police—hidden around the plaza who would notice her immediately.

“That there is Michael, the First Demon, the leader of His Holiness’ personal bodyguard—the Icons of Sin. Apparently, he will be the one to escort you to His Holiness.” Julia had to give credit to the old man. He was truly a skilled diplomat for being able to hide the disdain he felt towards the young man from his expression and voice. But there was plenty of the emotion bleeding out from his thoughts that it was impossible for her not to pick it up with her talents. “All of the Icons of Sin have a distinct effect on humans, which can range from revulsion to a full-on panic attack. Please try to keep your composure when that thing gets near you but if you can’t, no one blame you or think less of you.”

The genuine worry in the Envoy’s voice disturbed her. Michael was most likely a powerful psionic. Unskilled psionic humans of Preta class or higher could cause such emotions in others due to a lack of control of their powers. However, Julia was trained by the Qua. Their mastery of psionic talents was unrivalled in the universe. Neither humans nor vataari—who were fighting for second place—could match them. As long as she remained passive in using her gifts, she would remain hidden. That said, there was no denying the growing uneasiness as the man got closer. There was something very wrong with Michael, and to Julia’s horror, it had nothing to do with psionic powers.

By the time he opened the ground car’s door, she was soaked in cold sweat, her breathing was rapid and shallow, and her heart was trying to escape the confines of her chest. Julia had experienced panic attacks before and knew that what she felt at that moment was something else—a genetic memory from a far-gone primal age.

“Envoy Julia Kai, welcome to Hell,” Michael’s voice was soft, but it pierced her brain like a heated needle. “I will be your escort from here on during your visit to the Inner Palace.”

“Lady Kai,” Cyril’s gentle touch on her shoulder brought her out of her stupor. Here, drink this.” With his other hand, he pressed a generously filled glass into her hands.

The strong drink helped. However, by the time Julia came to her senses, she was alone and sitting on a soft couch inside a dimly lit study. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t remember a single thing about the trip from Minsk’s car to this chamber. Checking the memory of her cerebral implant was of no help either. All it did was respond with an error message stating that the recording of the last thirty minutes of her life was corrupted and could not be retrieved. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the present. First, she had to understand where she was, and second she would need to organise her thoughts for her meeting with the Blessed Saint Constantine IV.

A quick glance at her surroundings confirmed her initial conclusion. She was indeed inside a high-ranking official's personal study. Actually, the decoration reminded her a lot of Envoy Mink’s office aboard the frigate, making her wonder if perhaps his questionable taste was more a case of it being the norm within the Empire.

The question was made mute as the Blessed Saint of Hell Emperor of the Holy Teran Empire, Constantine IV Rütter, entered the study. It was impossible that it could be anyone else, yet Juia felt unsure. The man had the aura of a leader about him despite the surprisingly simple robe he wore and deep purple eyes, which conveyed wisdom and experience uncommon for someone his age. Never before had she seen a human with purple eyes, nor had she seen one with amber ones like Michael, but that was beside the point. Julia shivered involuntarily at the thought of the strange man. Pushing the uncomfortable memory away, she focused all of her attention on the Emperor. At a single glance, he couldn’t be older than twenty, but appearances could be very deceiving. Julia herself was nearing her fifties and didn’t look a day older than thirty thanks to slight genetic treatment, and a person such as the Blessed Saint would have access to far superior medical care than her. Despite that, it was odd that he would choose to stop the clock at such a young age. Now that she thought about it, the only stills she had ever seen of the leader of the Holy Terran Empire were those of his predecessor, Constantine III. Preciously little was actually known about the current monarch of the Empire because he had remained confined to the Inner Palace for all but one of the twenty years since he ascended to the throne.

Was this one a fake? A body double or a short-life clone? Was the real Blessed Saint even alive? The questions flooded her mind, driving her to construct outlandish and absurd theories. Normally, Julia would have dismissed them in an instant, but everything about this meeting was bizarre. There was no herald to make the introduction, no servants or officials accompanying the Blessed Saint and no guards entered the study alongside him. It felt unreal. If she were an assassin, she could have the man dead, and the Empire plunged into chaos in seconds.

The man chuckled heartedly. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Lady Kai of the Union of Ten, but I have yet to see a human best a Terran.” He held up his hand before she could speak. “Please, let us drop the formalities. I know who you are, and you know who I am.”

“In that case, how should I address Your Holiness…” Julia began her question, hoping to stir the conversation to a more familiar ground, but was interrupted by a sharp intake of breath from the Blessed Saint.

“That’s the title I like the least,” the emperor said without breaking his step. He sat in one of the cushioned chairs on the other side of the short table. “Constantine will do, considering I will be calling you Julia. After all, this meeting has never happened.”

She had allowed the appearance of the Blessed Saint to distract her. Any doubt Julia had entertained was erased with that simple exchange. This man was indeed the Emperor; he dictated the direction and speed of the meeting like a man with at least a century's worth of experience. It was enough of a blunder to make her want to scream in frustration. But that was just it. That was what he wanted. The way this man behaved was by design. A strange but very effective way to have her dance to his tune. Julia had to do something to take back control. The future of the Union of Ten depended on this meeting. The only way she could do that was by probing the man’s mind.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The smile evaporated from Constantine’s face, and his carefree voice hardened. “I would advise you against using your powers, psi-witch.”

Two guards, a man and a woman who looked eerily similar to Michael, entered the room and stood by the door. Their proximity caused Julia’s gut to twist into a knot, but the effect wasn’t as profound as when near the leader of the Blessed Saint’s bodyguards. Still, the abhorrent sensation was strong enough for her to almost miss the man’s next words.

“I would hate it for Gabriel and Raphaela to have to tear you apart in here.”

He knew she was psionic, and that shocked her more than she thought it would. Julia knew for a fact that the psi-scryers of the Holy Empire couldn’t detect her unless she used her gifts earnestly. Extensive tests were conducted by Lekaar technicians using captured scryers from the Batralian Skirmish. There was no doubt in her mind that this was not an idle threat. Although the two guards appeared to be unarmed, something about the way they stood and watched her with their emotionless, burning amber eyes made her shiver. The sensation was similar to how she felt around Micheal but less potent. And like their leader, neither of the pair was psionic. She was sure of it, which meant that the Blessed Saint had to be. On top of that, for her to not feel him entering her mind, he had to be an entity that could put her Qua instructors to shame.

“I must disappoint you once more, Julia. No Terran is psychically gifted,” Constantine said, sighed, and turned to face the two guards. “I take it the refreshments are ready?

“Yes,” Gabriel answered and nodded towards the woman next to him. The two held the door open for a servant with a cart loaded with drinks and foods of various colours and smells to enter the room. Julia was surprised by the thing. It was primitive. It was not a hover trey, nor was it a self-propelled or mechanical construct guided by a program. It was a large rectangular thing with two levels, supported on four wheels. The only way it would move was by having someone manually push it. And that was just the point of the thing. It was designed to show who held true power.

Slowly, Julia was beginning to understand how Constantine III’s mind worked as she observed the servant place elegant porcelain cups and plates on the small table separating her and the Blessed Saint. All the while, the hunched man did not lift his head to try and steal a passing glimpse of either her or his master.

Tattoos of what had to be religious texts covered the man’s shaved scalp and neck, and the way they were positioned suggested they continued beneath the richly decorated blue robe that covered the servant’s body. It took the man nearly a minute to transfer the contents of the cart onto the table and leave the room, escorted by the two guards. Julia used the time to formulate her next question properly, seeing that the Blessed Saint was not inclined to speak while the servant was around. It was yet another hint of how perfectly Constantine IV played the game of politics.

Once the door closed and the two were alone, Julia finally dared to speak. “If you are not psionic, how could you know what I am thinking?”

“Experience, my girl,” he smiled and took a sip of a hot black liquid with a strong aroma of cinnamon. “You are not the first Envoy I have met, and there are the nobles who demand my attention on a daily basis.” He gently placed the cup on the table. “For example, once I entered, you entertained the idea that it was foolish of me to do so without at least a guard by my side because it makes me an easy target for an assassin or something along those lines.”

Gently, he pushed a cup of coffee in her direction. “This one you should be familiar with.”

“Thank you.” She returned the smile, understanding now that he had read the hesitation in her eyes. “Might I inquire as to what it is you are drinking?” It was hard for her to omit the honorific at the end of her question, but she was proud that she had managed to adapt.

The Blessed Saint chuckled once more. “This is a surprise. I expected a different question.” He leaned back into the cushioned chair and gave her a warm smile. “It is the same thing, albeit a bit different. It is coffee, but one is grown on the Albion plateau here on Terra. Sadly, it is not fit for human consumption. The last thing I would want is for you to die due to toxic poisoning.”

“And what question did you expect of me?” She took a sip of the beverage in her hand, surprised to find hints of vanilla and cinnamon in both the aroma and taste, while her mind raced to keep up with the oddness of the Blessed Saint’s way of speaking.

“Why do you have no memory of getting here? Or how did I know you were a psi-witch? The answer to the first question is that you had a very adverse reaction to interacting with Micheal because of your psionic mutation. I do apologise for this discomfort, but you must understand that my bodyguards would not allow a psy-witch to roam freely through the Inner Palace. Do not worry; a raw feed recording of your trip will be provided as soon as you leave.” Despite that, there was no hint of remorse in his voice, and his expression remained neutral, almost challenging her to protest.

“As for the answer to the second question… To be blunt, I was informed the moment Minsk’s shuttle landed at the port.” Constantine’s hand hovered above a plate of bite-sized pastries; his attention diverted to find which one looked the most appetising. “You might be able to slip by the scryers used on the outskirts of the Empire, but as skilled as you might be, you cannot mask yourself from the psi-screens deployed on the core worlds. In that regard, unthinking machines are far more reliable.”

The very idea that the Empire had developed a technology that detected psionics was terrifying. It dismantled all of Julia’s carefully prepared plans and destroyed the strategy the Higharcs had prepared for future negotiations with the Holy Empire.

“Are you not afraid I could enter your mind before your guards enter the room?” The question contradicted every protocol instilled in her during her training, but Julia had to ask. She had to know the answer because this was also her last resort should everything else fail.

“That is a good question. Although you will not like the answer,” Constantine smiled at her, but this time, there was a warning in his smile. He was baiting her, daring her to try. “As you might guess, there are quite a few intricate psi-screens in this room. However, let us assume that, by some miracle, you managed to sneak up on me before a warning was issued. That would mean you will have to overwhelm the integrated defences of my cerebral implants. But let’s be honest, any psi-witch could do that given enough time.” He took a sip from the cup in his hands.

“For the sake of argument, I would assume you are able to do so in eight to ten seconds. To make it easy to calculate, I will say that from the start to the point you overcome my implants, it takes you ten seconds.” Constantine took a pastry coated with bright green glazing and unceremoniously flicked it into his mouth.

“It would take you another five seconds to comprehend the differences between a human and Terran mind and another three seconds to implant an idea or control thought you might want to. In other words, from start to finish of such a task, between twenty-six and twenty-eight seconds would elapse. Gabriel and Raphaela can enter the room in fifteen.”

He gave her a tired smile. “However, that is beside the point. You would need to be an Oblivion class—a Ghu-A—psionic for any of that.”

Julia looked at the strange man sitting across her and shared the soft chuckle he made. A Ghu-A, although theoretically possible to exist, was not something a human could survive. Even the far more superior mind of a Qua would struggle to control such gifts for more than a day. A human like her would expire within mere seconds of reaching such a level.

“Since you are able to mask yourself from the psi-scryers and since you were allowed to come anywhere near the Palace, you, Miss Kai, are at least above Wrath class but below Aswang class. If I had to guess… Preta class. I’m sorry, that would be a lower grade Hai-Sie according to the Union’s scale.”

“You give my skills too much credit. I border the Jim-Va and Rin-U grades. I’m sorry, but I’m not familiar with the classification the Holy Empire uses.”

“That would be the equivalent to a Banshee class.” He added without a second’s worth of hesitation.

“I am surprised… Constantine. For someone who has proclaimed strict restrictions on psionically gifted people, you are well versed in the different classifications.” Julia gave up trying to figure out the man or play politics with him. In a way, it was refreshing to have an open and honest conversation with the Blessed Saint.

“Yes. I am.” A hint of displeasure appeared on the Emperor’s face. “The restrictions placed on your kind are a necessary evil. The Mars Insurgents, the Ganimed Disaster, the Billen Massacre… Those are some of the most recent incidents before my predecessor was forced to take measures.”

“Pardon me for being so blunt, but I get the impression you do not agree.”

“My feelings on the matter are irrelevant,” the sharpness in Constantine’s voice caught her by surprise. “As the leader of the Second Terran Empire, I must do all I can to protect the faithful. If that means that means that a certain group will have to face discrimination, that is a sin I will have to carry.” The Blessed Saint took a sip from the cup in his hands before continuing in a more subdued tone. “Do not misunderstand, Julia. My predecessors did not wish for this separation to be something permanent. In the last couple of decades, we have seen tremendous advances in psi-technology, and in the near future, ordinary humans will not need to fear your kind, and you will be accepted as one of the faithful.”

This wasn’t what Julia expected. In fact, she was prepared for some fanatical rant on how physically gifted people were the root of all evil. A part of her wished to continue this topic and learn more, but there were more important matters to discuss, and the time she had with the Emperor was limited.

“May I ask you a question before you try to guess it?” She cocked her head to the side and used the only tool she had left at her disposal—her womanly charm. A slight nod was all the man gave her as a response.

“Why am I here?” There was no turning back now.

“Because I am fascinated by what the Union of Ten has managed to achieve. Humans coexist with nine other alien species, and not only that but doing so while being one of the most influential ones. This is the only chance I would have to meet such a human before the Union of Ten is annexed and absorbed into my domain.”

Julia was surprised by the certainty in the Emperor’s voice. “You say that as if it is only a matter of time. Let’s assume…”

“There is no assumption to be made here, Julia,” Constantine interrupted her. “It is not even a matter of time. The Union of Ten will surrender and join my Empire peacefully in the next thirty days. Or I will take it through force within a year.”

There it was, the man she had expected to meet. He was arrogant, confident in the power of his armies and brutal in the way he negotiated. At this moment, Constantine IV Rütter was what she expected from the head of an autocratic religious empire. He might dress this meeting any way he wanted to, but in the end, Julia was here to receive his ultimatum and deliver it to the Higharcs. She had been a fool to trust Mink’s words that a peaceful solution was possible. These people were warmongering barbarians, and that would never change. However, that did not mean she couldn’t try to soften the terms a little.

“Please excuse my words, but I find this to be a very bold statement.” Her mind entered the state of a diplomat she was far more comfortable with. “Thirty days are simply not enough. I am sure you might be surprised, but for democracy, this is too short of a time-span to review any proposal you might want to make.”

Constantine stood motionless for a moment, and Julia thought she had found the edge she needed for the conversation to follow. That notion shattered the moment the man exploded in a burst of laughter. “Miss Kai, you cannot actually believe this,” he managed to say between laughs. Had he made this absurd claim as some sort of a test?

“Have you seen this planet?” He spread his arms around. “This is what democracy leads to – Hell. This place is the legacy of the democracy you cherish. You might know it as the First Terran Empire. An Empire only in name. But there are records left on this forsaken planet, and we know the truth. Like any democracy, it became bloated, corrupted and twisted. Its leaders unchangeable despite the will of the people. Poor excuses of men, plagued by hubris and self-interest in perpetuating their own stay in positions of power until, in their final moments, deciding to embrace the truth and crown themselves as Emperors. But it was too late. All their democracy did was bring forth the Third Hell.”

Constantine’s outburst suddenly stopped, and for a moment, he was quiet before looking at her, his angry expression assuming a calmer demeanour.

“I’ve seen the records of what Hell used to look like with my own eyes. A paradise… A Garden of lush green and deep blue.” A deep, morose sigh escaped the Blessed Saint’s lips. “Although devastating, the nuclear wars of the so-called thirty-first century had left no mark on the planet. The devastation of the Second Hell left this world a little worse for wear and nearly returned the human race to the stone age. Yet, once humanity emerged on the galactic stage millennia later, the Qua still called this place the Great Blue Jewel of Sol.”

Julia stood frozen in her chair. This contradicted everything she was taught. According to the Union, humanity had always been a troubled species speeding with reckless abandon towards its own self-destruction. If not for the Qua’s timely intervention, her kind would have wiped themselves out from the face of the galaxy. Sadly, the Chaos Plague, which ravaged the galaxy some five millennia ago, was also responsible for the loss of almost all records predating it. Almost everything predating that period was treated with suspicion and given the same trust as ancient legends. Yet, the conviction with which Constantine spoke made her hold her tongue and listen. There was more to her desire to listen without interrupting; she would not admit to it, but her curiosity had taken hold of her.

“It took us Terrans nearly a thousand years to make the small habitable pockets so that humanity could return and re-settle its ancestral home.” She could see the Blessed Saint take a deep breath in order to calm himself, but she could tell that this time he had embellished the truth.

The longer Julia talked with him, the more proficient she became at reading the small changes in his expression. A second later, her elation was crashed as the Blessed Saint changed the topic, most likely noticing her reaction. Damn him, she cursed under her breath. He was far better at this than her.

“Your Higharcs can call the Union of Ten anything they like, but it doesn’t change the fact that it is a heavily restricted police state. Your overlords go to great lengths to keep the population of your worlds in check. To the point where they have allowed psi-witches to serve as enforcers and have granted them rights above those granted to the psionically def.”

The door to the room opened, and the female guard, Raphaela, entered the room. In her hands was a thick folder of printed documents, and a datapad was placed on top of it. Without a word, the woman placed the items on the table. She then produced a thin cylindrical object, similar to an opaque metal syringe without a needle and placed it atop the folder. As suddenly as she had entered, Raphaela left the room without uttering a single word.

Julia’s eyes were fixed on the small object atop the folder of papers. She could swear she had seen something like it a very long time ago. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not recall what the item was. What was supposed to be a moment stretched into nearly a minute. Bored with waiting for her reaction, Constantine broke the silence. “It’s a chemical ink pen.”

Once the words registered in her mind, a memory emerged. Julia had been five or maybe seven years old, only a school freshman. The lecturers had taken them to a museum for some reason she could not bother to remember. There, she had seen such an item. The curator even allowed them to hold a replica of the original thing and try writing with it in a sand pool. The Blessed Saint couldn’t seriously expect her to use the damned thing? Writing, actually writing by hand, was a skill few were trained in. It was something done by obscure artists or extravagant archaeologists. If she wanted to write, she would use a pad or make a note through her cerebral implant.

“Some habits still live on Hell. The documents you see are the same ones on the pad. I would need you to sign both digital and hard copy before the digital is sent to the Higharcs of the Union of Ten.” The man smiled at her. “You will find that the first page of the folder is blank. I would suggest you practice writing your name and authentication code on it.”

“What is all this?” Julia asked, not bothering to hide her confusion.

“The terms for the peaceful annexation of the Union of Ten into the Holy Terran Empire.”

She grabbed the datapad and browsed through the files in it.

“You cannot be serious?!” There had to be a mistake. The only thing she was certain of was the person across the table was a ruthless predator. This was in no way the solution she imagined from her conversation with Envoy Minsk.

“You are really giving the Higharcs thirty days to comply before announcing a total war! Your Highness, I implore you to reconsider. Such a demand is borderline insane. The Union of Ten occupies a region of space three times larger than your Empire. The Union armies outnumber yours by ten to one.”

Julia looked at Constantine’s face, but she could see no emotion on it. “I have seen that there is a technological gap between our sides. However, a conflict on such a scale is going to cost you dearly. More so, if the rumours that you are preparing for an attack on the Xith and the Ul are true.”

A small tick at the corner of the man’s eye was all she needed to know she had caught onto something. Julia had to press her advantage lest she lose it once more. “Although you might be able to delay a conflict with the Confederacy of Ul, the Stratocracy will not allow you time to finish a conflict with the Union and recuperate the losses you will suffer. We are talking about a race which controls a third of the galaxy and wages wars with a dozen species as we speak. You cannot honestly believe that the thousand systems of your domain could stand a chance against the billions gathered under the Xith.”

“You are quite correct, Envoy Kai,” Constantine smiled at her. “A Xith invasion is inevitable. However, I will do everything I can to delay it as much as possible so that my successors can be better prepared to face it.”

“Tell me, Julia, have you ever asked yourself how a single planet with a population just shy of a billion people has managed to conquer a thousand systems in three hundred years?” He said as he picked which pastry to consume next.

Personally, she couldn’t care less; her superiors and the Higharcs, on the other hand, were willing to kill for an answer to that question. If Julia managed to return with the why, a small moon to use as her personal home would be the least she could get as a reward.

“It is because we are Terrans. But that is the limit of what we can do on our own.”

“You keep distinguishing between those born on old Terra… Excuse me, Hell, and the humans born on the other worlds,” she remarked flatly, unsatisfied with the explanation, “as if you are talking about different species.”

“I thought you would have understood it by now.” Constantine’s eyes burned like those of a fanatic as he continued. The change in his persona caught Julia off-guard. “That’s exactly it, Envoy Kai. Humans and Terrans share the same ancestry but are different species.”

“Unlike you, we are no longer homo sapience; we are homo superstes. We Terrans are the product of forced evolution, brought by the devastation of this world. We are stronger, faster and more durable compared to humans. But those are differences on the basic level. We have developed additional organs which help us filter the toxins choking the outside air.” He stood up and walked to the window decorating the far wall, beckoning her to follow him with a gesture of his hand.

“A human can survive a day outside the domes without a protection suit while their lungs are corroded to protein soup within their bodies. Or a week with one, if they have brought enough food and water to last them that long before succumbing to radiation poisoning.” He turned to look at her. “You can see for yourself that outside the domes, there is scarcely little water on the surface. The very oceans are a burning mess of deadly chemicals and acid which will strip the flesh from your bones within seconds. The only thing available to drink on the outside is gathered in quickly drying puddles after the acidic rains. As for that which we draw from the underground rivers and reservoirs… Well, your renal system will shut down after the first sip.”

“We have adapted to survive on those and survive without a single drop of water for a month while we wait for acid rains. Our eyes see in spectrums of light you cannot comprehend because of torn atmospheric layers and increased solar radiation. Our bodies have a dozen glands that are absent in humans. But the biggest change is in here,” He tapped the side of his head with one finger. “The third brain hemisphere, which allows us to rest without needing to sleep. A good night’s rest for us amounts to no more than two hours.”

“We, Terrans, have evolved to survive here on Hell. But that’s just it. We have adapted too perfectly for his blasted planet. Our genetic makeup is wrecked by rampant mutation without the poisonous chemical cocktail we breathe and drink. Two to three years, that is how long we can endure before our bodies destroy themselves in a clean environment.” There was sadness in his voice as he returned to the chair. “Our reproduction is dependent on the toxins of this world. And as a bonus, a population of over nine hundred million people is unsustainable on Hell. Anything above that will exhaust the scant food sources available to us, forcing us to take drastic measures or turn to cannibalism.”

“And no, we cannot rely on food imports from other planets. That is a lifeline which can collapse far too easily. Such an act will doom us. The option of genetic manipulation is also out of the question because of how unstable our genome is.”

“This is why you conquer former human worlds so aggressively,” Julia finally managed to utter. “This is why you need the Union of Ten.”

“Correct. What we lack to survive a Xith invasion is manpower.” Constantine took another cup and tasted its contents, a tired smile forming on his face. “At least we look human on the outside, which has made uniting the closest system under one banner a fairly easy task. For this reason, we made the Domes. So that you—our genetic cousins—could inhabit our mutual ancestral home.”

“Why are you sharing such valuable information with me?” Julia had a strong enough grip on her mind to understand that this was dangerous knowledge. The type where one normally ended buried in two dozen different graves in as many different star systems. As hard as she thought, she couldn’t think of any way this meeting could have a happy ending for her.

“Because you are a human, Miss Kai,” Constantine opened the folder on the table and began to flick through the pages. “You are also an outsider, one hailing from this strange place called the Union of Ten. This means you also lack one very important trait, which my kind has: you lack the xenophobic fear and paranoia which shackles my kind. We lack the diversity of humans. Instead, we are locked into a single mould with close to no variation. That’s why humans within the domes rarely see any Terrans… Because we are starting to despise you as much as we despise the aliens. This… fault… cannot be allowed to continue.”

The Blessed Saint picked the page he had been looking for within the folder and offered it to her, the joyful smile returning to his face. “You are a smart, beautiful and, most of all, pragmatic woman. As I said, I will delay the conflict with the Xith, and I have, for another generation at least.” He allowed her a moment to give the document in her hands a quick read.

Julia felt the muscles in her jaw stiffen as she read line after line.

“Thirty days, that is how long it would take for the Confederacy of Ul to collapse.” Constantine poured some more of the black tar-like coffee into his cup. “As you can read in that lovely report, my Demons are not just a figure of speech. They are somewhat more corporeal.”

Slowly, the Blessed Saint walked towards the door. “This is a rare opportunity, Julia Kai. I’ll give you three days to make your decision as to where your future belongs.” Constantine IV Rütter left her alone in that small study, alone with her thoughts and the horror written on that cursed page.

To His Holiness, Constantine IV Rütter,

Blessed Saint of the Garden of Hell,

The notes recovered by the Al-Khatya Consecrators from the tomb vault of the Arch Fiend Dragan Hix have proven invaluable. Although Generation 1 Demons possess a fraction of the power observed in Michael and his kin, they have been an outstanding success. I am happy to report that the Ul-Battyr control nexus has been successfully infiltrated, and a kill switch has been introduced within it. The Ul will have to face Your Holy Armies without their slaves at their side.

This success has opened up the road to completing the Osiris Facility. Genetic growth vats and cloning chambers will be fully operational sooner than originally estimated. I would like to express my gratitude to Al-Khatya Consecrator Evangeline Sci and Gene-Bishop Alpus Zhu for translating the genetic sequences retrieved from the First Empire’s archives, and I humbly request that they be permanently assigned to the Osiris Facility. Thanks to their devotion and tireless work I predict that we will be ready for mass production of the first hundred thousand of the basic human soldiers within the next three months. In fact, I am willing to bet my life and the lives of my mate and children on this.

Once more, I would like to express my unending gratitude to Your Holiness for lending us Ulrius and Seltieallia services. To have two of Michael’s own kin serve as instructors to the new Generation of Demons has been a true blessing. I dare not keep them any longer away from Your side. As such, I am sending them back to the Holy Garden of Hell and the Palace along with my complete report, copies of my notes and copies of the viable genome sequences used so far so that work on the Lazarus backup facility can begin.

Your faithful servant,

Ordained Cardinal of Biotic Sciences,

Jacopo Phoenix

Less than half a page of text, yet its content had just changed and reshaped the galaxy. It ensured that the Holy Terran Empire would not be considered a small sector power but a galactic superpower within a century, perhaps half of it. This was also how the line of Rütter had expanded the borders of its fledgeling realm so quickly – infiltration and sabotage. Those first worlds had fallen before the first troop carriers made planetfall; they just had not known it at that point. And now, these barbarians had access to functional cloning technology. The question Julia struggled with was figuring out how far Constantine IV had planned to expand his Empire before turning his attention to the Xith.

She looked at the thick folder on the table. Thirty days, the Higharcs would never expect such an ultimatum. The Blessed Saint was right; it was not because of technical difficulties. It would be rejection born of spite. But what it was Constantine had said, or rather implied, was that he would love for the Union of Ten to choose the peaceful option. Otherwise, he would conquer them within a year without batting an eye.

Julia smiled and allowed herself a chuckle. She felt as if she had aged years during the thirty minutes of this meeting. Switching sides didn’t sound that bad, after all