Terra Aeterna: The Rise of Humanity's War Machine

A soft hum filled the command chamber as a hologram flickered to life, casting a pale blue glow across the room. The image of Alexander Corvinus materialized—aged, commanding, and undeniably charismatic. His gaze was steady, directed at the equally poised figure standing across the transmission line.

Alexander Corvinus:

"Lord Kenthelion. I am Alexander Corvinus."

Kenthelion:

"Greetings, Lord Corvinus. I'm not entirely sure what I can offer you… but I assume this isn't just a polite check-in."

Alexander Corvinus:

"Our agreement can now be enacted. I require your assistance in retrieving my son—Marcus. He's currently imprisoned in a military compound. I'll handle the extraction personally, but I need you to deal with the… mundane obstacle of the human military."

Kenthelion:

"Very well. I'll honor my end of the deal. But since this will involve a direct conflict with Earth's military forces, I want your blood sample—sooner than originally arranged."

Alexander Corvinus:

"That can be arranged. The priority is Marcus's safety. You can move tonight. Government forces will be within your operational range."

Kenthelion:

"Leave the army to me."

Alexander Corvinus:

"Then we move tonight."

The signal cut off with a faint static hiss. The hologram dissolved into the air, plunging the chamber back into a calm, dim silence.

Kenthelion turned.

Kenthelion:

"Jacob, prepare the battalion. We move tonight. Contact Mira Han—tell her the time has come. Earth will be ours… sooner than they think."

Jacob (firmly):

"Yes, Your Majesty. I'll contact the battlecruiser's bridge immediately and summon Commander Mira Han. The fleet is on standby."

Footsteps echoed into the chamber as another figure entered—Amalia. Her eyes, sharp and unwavering, betrayed the tension simmering beneath her composed expression.

Amalia:

"War tonight? Are you sure this isn't a reckless decision, Kenthelion?"

Kenthelion

"Of course we will win," said Kenthelion as he embraced Amalia.

Now Amalia had also been brought down by Kenthelion.

One night, Kenthelion sneaked into Amalia's room and did it.

With little resistance from Amalia, Kenthelion slept with her.

But now, Kenthelion felt pain in his waist and joy in his spirit.

Amalia turned out to be stronger than Selene—perhaps her strength had been held back for a thousand years.

Her fierce fighting spirit was so overwhelming that Kenthelion couldn't sleep at night.

Selene had learned about the relationship between Kenthelion and Amalia, but she chose to remain silent. She kept everything to herself, immersing in her training day after day—burying herself in battle simulations and sparring sessions, hoping to grow stronger. More useful. More prepared... for whatever was coming.

Night fell.

Alexander Corvinus finally boarded Kenthelion's battlecruiser—a towering monolith of advanced technology hovering proudly in low Earth orbit. As he stepped into the main hangar, his gaze was drawn to the various advanced fighter crafts docked before him. Sleek aerodynamic designs fused with exotic forms, glowing energy panels along their hulls.

A soldier came to report, but Alexander's attention shifted to the starfighter squadrons neatly lined up—V-Wings, TIE Fighters, and TIE Bombers, all gleaming under the hangar lights. His eyes narrowed, attempting to comprehend technology far beyond anything recorded in human history.

In the command center, a blue hologram lit up the room. A 3D map of the military complex appeared, rendered in high detail and sharp resolution.

Alexander Corvinus:

"Lord Kenthelion, this is the facility where Marcus is being held. I ask only one thing: do not strike this area. Everything else... do as you will. Though I suspect that warning might be pointless, given what you command."

Kenthelion:

"Understood. That section will remain untouched."

Kenthelion retrieved the map module and handed it to Jacob. His gaze was firm—this operation would be executed with absolute precision.

Alexander Corvinus:

"In that case, Lord Kenthelion... it's time to act."

Kenthelion:

"Jacob. Launch the starfighter squadron. Secure air dominance first."

Jacob:

"Command received, Your Majesty."

A blaring siren echoed throughout the massive warship. Pilots sprinted toward their stations—V-Wings, TIE Fighters, and TIE Bombers soared out of the hangar like a pack of predatory birds, streaking down toward Earth's atmosphere.

Because Kenthelion's tech crew had already overridden the satellite surveillance systems, the incoming fleet went entirely undetected. TIE Bombers immediately unleashed a wave of precision strikes on the military base's primary structures. A few conventional jets attempted to scramble, but none made it fully airborne.

Explosions shook the night sky. Alarms blared across the base. Walls trembled, asphalt cracked, and the screams of soldiers rang out beneath the thunder of missiles and the shriek of laser fire. Absolute chaos.

In the ground-based military command center...

Chief of Staff:

"General Ferenc Veér! We're under attack! Unidentified aircraft—extremely fast! We don't recognize the models! We need air support immediately!"

General Ferenc Veér burst into the room, breathing heavily, his face pale and strained.

General Ferenc Veér:

"What did you say?! Attacked? By who?!"

He rushed to the observation window.

A sleek black jet streaked past the control tower, trailing fire and destruction. His eyes widened. That... was not their aircraft. Not anything from NATO's catalog. Not even close.

Ferenc Veér:

"That's... not ours. What the hell kind of model is that...?"

He turned sharply.

Ferenc Veér:

"Now! Order the nearest military base to send air support! RIGHT NOW!"

After one squadron of TIE Bombers completed their bombing run, the next wave moved in without delay. V-Wings and TIE Fighters swept the skies, unleashing relentless, precision strikes. A total of forty starfighters now dominated the airspace above the military base—rotating in synchronized formations, each blow calculated and merciless.

It wasn't long before Hungary's Air Force scrambled their F-22 Raptors, desperate to retaliate and regain control amidst the chaos.

But they were hopelessly outmatched.

Though the F-22 pilots were highly trained, they simply couldn't match the speed or agility of Kenthelion's starfighter pilots—seasoned veterans of deep-space warfare, honed in zero-gravity combat where even the slightest mistake spelled death. The dogfight quickly devolved into a massacre. Not a single missile launched by the Raptors found its target. The TIE Fighters dodged with impossibly sharp maneuvers, their reflexes and flight systems leagues beyond Earth's technology. Many government jets were obliterated before they could even lock on.

Inside the tactical war room, digital screens pulsed red, indicators flashing in rapid succession.

Tactical Officer:

"Report! Incoming government fighter squadron from the nearest base. ETA five minutes. They're moving to provide air support."

Kenthelion:

"Order all TIE Fighters and V-Wings to full alert. Block their approach. Don't let a single craft get near the battlecruiser."

His voice was calm—icy calm—but carried the weight of absolute authority. There was no room for error.

The Flight Control Officer sprang into action, tapping into the main console. Airspace lockdown coordinates were set. Launch protocols initiated. A fresh wave of starfighters burst from the lower hangars, forming an aggressive aerial blockade with disciplined precision.

Kenthelion turned his gaze toward Alexander Corvinus, who stood nearby, eyes fixed on the three-dimensional holographic projection of the battlefield. Flames, smoke, and debris glowed red across the military base's digital terrain.

Kenthelion:

"Lord Corvinus, just a few moments more. Once the air defense is fully neutralized, you may deploy your ground forces. Tell your men to be ready."

Corvinus turned and gave a curt nod, as calm and composed as a noble welcoming a coming storm.

Alexander Corvinus:

"Don't worry, Lord Kenthelion. They've been ready ever since you chose to strike."

On the surface, the scene was hell incarnate.

The military base that once held tens of thousands of personnel was now a wasteland of fire and shattered concrete. Many soldiers never even reached their weapons, let alone activated the defense grid. Every anti-air installation was wiped out before it could be used—their missiles never reaching the sky, dodged or deflected by starfighters diving at lethal speed in low-altitude passes.

Kenthelion watched the carnage unfold on screen, narrowing his eyes as columns of armored vehicles began rolling out of ground hangars. He knew this was the moment to transition from air assault to full-scale ground invasion.

Kenthelion:

"Jacob. Deploy the Banshee units for the initial strike. Target their anti-armor positions first. Once the area's secure, order Medivac teams to land and begin sampling—DNA, biological data, whatever we need. Assign the Vikings for full aerial cover of the landing zone."

Jacob:

"Understood, Your Imperial Majesty. Executing now."

The tactical display updated with fresh movements. The ground phase was underway—and the enemy still had no idea that this was merely the beginning of a far larger invasion.

Dominion Banshee-class Starfighters tore through the ashen sky in a tight formation, their anti-gravity engines rumbling low like thunder heralding the end. From high altitude, their Hellfire Missile Pods unleashed pre-programmed napalm warheads—each splitting midair and locking onto multiple armored vehicles. In a matter of seconds, columns of tanks and heavy transports were engulfed in towering infernos, scorching the asphalt and earth black.

Below, the modified Avenger-pattern Rotary Bolt Cannons—customized by Adeptus Mechanicus.998—unleashed rapid bursts of Godwyn Heavy Bolt Rounds. Explosive rounds rained down with brutal precision, shredding through infantry and mechanized lines alike. Every burst roared like a celestial war drum, shaking the air with divine fury.

With enemy artillery positions neutralized, Medivac Dropships swooped in and landed with pinpoint precision in newly secured zones, escorted by Viking Interceptors in ground configuration. Without hesitation, squads of blue-armored Terran Marines deployed from the bays, quickly forming defensive perimeters.

Overhead, the Banshees continued their deadly sweep. Their Avenger Bolt Cannons flared again and again, mowing down whatever was left of the military formation below. Each shot was a final verdict—swift and absolute.

Meanwhile, anti-aircraft missiles from the remaining government forces failed to lock onto anything. Their tracking systems were rendered useless by a satellite-based jammer virus, spreading like wildfire through their comms network. Navigation went haywire. Coordination collapsed. It was chaos incarnate.

---

Government Military Command Center

Chief of Staff Ferenc Veér:

"General! Our troops' morale is collapsing… What should we do?!"

General Ferenc Veér

(takes a deep breath, lying just to keep panic at bay)

"Hold on… Ground reinforcements will arrive soon."

But deep inside, Ferenc knew it was a lie. No reinforcements were coming fast enough to face this.

---

Detention Sector — Military Base

Alexander Corvinus's Cleaner Team broke through the detention facility and extracted the two primary targets: Marcus Corvinus—bloody, broken, barely conscious, his weight carried by two agents… and Michael.

But Michael was no longer human. His form had changed—warped by government experimentation and unspeakable torture. He had become something else entirely.

Both were evacuated aboard a stealth medivac and flown directly to Kenthelion's battlecruiser, where a fully equipped Terran medical bay stood ready.

Upon arrival, medical teams sprang into action, rushing Marcus and Michael to Medbay. Alexander Corvinus followed closely, silent but determined. Kenthelion, having received the update, headed there as well. His voice echoed through the ship's internal comms:

Kenthelion:

"Amalia, meet me in the Medbay. We have important guests."

Elsewhere, Selene had already slipped into what remained of the military base. With a squad of Ghost operatives, she hunted the scientists and soldiers responsible for the atrocities committed.

---

Medbay – Kenthelion's Battlecruiser

Marcus Corvinus slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurred, sounds muffled. Shapes hovered around his bed—strangers, all of them. Until one figure stepped forward.

An older man, standing tall and composed. His eyes carried the weight of centuries—strength, and unyielding resolve.

Marcus Corvinus

(quiet at first, then glaring sharply)

"…Father?"

His gaze turned cold. The eyes that once held reverence now showed only anger and betrayal. Alexander Corvinus met his son's glare in silence. No embrace. No tears. Just the heavy silence of a past that refused to die.