Imperium of Man Terra Aeterna Season 01: Rise of Humanity's War Machin

Morning blanketed Salt Lake City.

Reuel woke earlier than usual. Beside him, Alice was still sound asleep, curled up in his arms with her legs touching his-as if seeking warmth and protection. He recalled the events of the previous night: Jill had to stay on duty to monitor a suspicious group, leaving Alice alone at the villa. And as always, Alice chose to lie beside him.

She was a warrior-and a formidable opponent. But last night, Alice was just a tired woman. It didn't take long for her to surrender to sleep in Reuel's embrace.

Carefully, Reuel shifted her leg without waking her, then got up. He stepped outside for his workout, moving with high intensity. These movements weren't just ordinary physical exercises-they were part of the process of attuning himself with the memories and skills of the Emperor of Mankind-the being who now shared his mind and body.

Reuel had not yet mastered even one percent of the Emperor's power. But he knew: understanding began with habit. He had to learn all that knowledge and apply it gradually, systematically.

After finishing his training and splashing his face with water, Reuel walked out to the yard... and found Angie, the little girl, doing push-ups-though her form was somewhat messy.

Reuel stepped closer.

"Angie? Why are you up this early?"

"Ahhh, big bro! You scared me!" Angie jumped, her eyes wide.

"I didn't mean to, really." Reuel raised his hands, feigning innocence.

Seeing her shocked expression, he quickly added, "Seriously, this time I really didn't mean to scare you."

Angie eyed him suspiciously, then suddenly grinned. "But now I know-it's time for revenge."

"Huh?"

"Whoever taught me self-defense must be really cool," she said proudly.

"Who?"

"Sister Jill, duh! She said every girl needs to be able to protect herself."

Reuel facepalmed. Of course... Jill.

Angie raised her fists in a fighting pose. "When I get good, and you mess with me again... just wait. I'm gonna beat you up!"

Reuel stifled a laugh. Only now did he remember that Angie had also been injected with the perfected T-virus. Her body was stronger than other children her age, but she hadn't received formal combat training yet.

Still too young, Reuel thought. But her time will come.

"So what you're saying is, you're not strong yet, and I can bully you before you get good?"

Reuel grinned, giving her a teasing look.

"N-no! I mean... I mean... it's normal for big brothers to mess with their little sisters sometimes, right?" Angie stammered, trying to defend herself.

"Alright then, come here. I'll teach you how to fight properly."

"Seriously? You can teach me?"

Angie's face lit up, her eyes sparkling.

"Of course. Come on. Today's your first combat training."

Reuel reached out and took Angie's hand, pulling her closer.

He began to show her the basic movements-not from conventional martial arts, but from an ancient style passed down from the shadowy days before the Imperium. Reuel had access to all the memories of the Emperor-and now, a small part of that legacy flowed into a little girl named Angie, including the combat arts once taught under the shadows of primordial Terra, when the Perpetuals still walked among men.

---

Salt Lake City, Sheriff's Department.

Jill had spent the night at the office. She'd only managed to squeeze in a short nap between the near-constant stream of work.

Now, she was in the briefing room with Claire, discussing intel while staring at a monitor and a stack of reports piled high on the table.

"Ma'am... I mean, Jill-now that all our people have verified the data, when are we moving in to arrest them?" Claire asked, her voice steady, a mix of readiness and caution.

Jill turned to her with a faint smile. "Claire, I've told you a thousand times-don't call me 'ma'am'."

"Uh... alright. Jill," Claire replied, a bit awkwardly. "So... should we make our move now?"

"Not yet," Jill answered firmly. "From their movements last night, they're still actively communicating. Let one of them reach out to the others. Once they've gathered all the sympathizers with bad intentions, then we cast the net."

Claire gave a small nod, understanding the direction Jill was taking. It was a risky approach-but an effective one.

"If it works, we'll be clearing out a lot of dangerous elements in one sweep," Claire said, mostly to herself.

"And make Salt Lake City more stable," Jill finished her thought. "Send more people to monitor them. Make sure they don't realize they're being watched."

"Got it." Claire jotted down the instruction. Then, Jill glanced at her for a moment and asked,

"Claire, why don't you just stay at my house? It's in a secure zone, and you wouldn't have to sleep in those cramped barracks anymore."

Salt Lake City was currently overwhelmed by the influx of immigrants and refugees. New housing was still under construction, and many personnel like Claire had to temporarily stay in emergency housing with their teams.

Claire shook her head. "I don't want to trouble you. Besides, I'm more comfortable staying with my teammates. The new house is almost done, anyway. I'll move in once it's ready."

Jill looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I won't push."

She stood up and straightened the file folder on the desk.

"You haven't slept all night. Go get some rest. I'll keep watch now."

"Alright. Thanks." Claire smiled and made her way toward the rest area.

---

Elsewhere in the city...

Congressman Harry Reid continued expanding his network. He and his supporters were reaching out to various contacts, assembling power behind the scenes.

The plan to seize control of Salt Lake City was quietly gaining momentum.

In the next few days, the city would be anything but peaceful.

---

Salt Lake City had been incredibly busy lately. The city almost never slept. Alice hadn't had a moment's rest since returning from her latest mission.

With the help of Red Queen, she had managed to rescue about five to six thousand people from an area just 600 kilometers away from the city-a significant number, considering how wrecked America had become in the wake of the outbreak.

The country was well known for its widespread private gun ownership, so quite a few survivors had managed to hold out longer than average. But in the span of a few days, those same people could've easily fallen to the undead-if they hadn't been rescued in time.

Thanks to the continuous rescue efforts, Salt Lake City's population had spiked-from 230,000 to nearly 270,000 souls. And that number continued to grow by the day.

Under Reuel's command, the provisional government set up refugee tents outside the city walls as a temporary solution. The urban core had nearly reached its limit, no longer capable of absorbing the wave of civilians pouring in from all directions.

Meanwhile, SCV units from StarCraft and Adeptus Mechanicus tech-priests were hard at work constructing and reinforcing the city's military infrastructure. Their focus was defense and the development of power systems, weaponry, and strategic manufacturing.

On the civilian side, construction was handled by both locals and incoming migrants skilled in the trade. Everyone pitched in-whether trained or not-to keep the city standing and growing.

But behind it all, Reuel himself wasn't overly focused on rescue operations within the American territories.

His priority lay with Europe and Asia, where larger population centers still held the potential to be saved. On the other hand, the Umbrella Corporation's main base was still in the U.S., and some underground facilities-like The Hive-remained active.

Reuel knew that if the remnants of those facilities were ever unleashed without control, they would pose an entirely new threat.

Besides, he was also pursuing something far more strategic-the activation of system check-in locations rumored to contain vast rewards and advantages, if used correctly.

---

Today, Reuel took Angie for a walk to a small town on the outskirts of Salt Lake City, watching people come and go like ants crawling over the ruins of the old world.

The place bustled with life, a noisy chaos of barter and trade. Angie, the little girl who usually saw the world only through the windows of the villa, looked absolutely thrilled. It had been a long time since she'd been around this many people at once.

Salt Lake City itself didn't look much different from the last time Reuel had seen it—before the virus consumed the world. Only one thing had changed: the number of people. Far too many.

"Canned fruit! One box for five loaves of bread! Who wants to trade?"

"Cigarettes! One pack for eight loaves of bread!"

Street vendors filled the roads. No cash, no rupiah or dollars. Everything now ran on barter—whatever you had, that was your value.

Reuel walked while holding Angie's hand, his eyes scanning every interaction with curiosity. The world that emerged from the ashes was like a living social experiment.

A middle-aged man approached him with a hopeful gaze.

"Sir, do you need gold? One loaf of bread for a kilogram of gold."

Reuel stopped in his tracks. He stared at the man, frowning.

"One loaf of bread... for a kilo of gold?" he repeated, as if checking he wasn't hallucinating.

"Yes, sir. Interested?" the man asked, voice nervous.

He had already tried offering his gold to many others. No one was interested. In this world, gold was just a useless metal. Can't eat it. Can't trade it.

"How do you even have gold?" Reuel asked, suspicious.

"I used to own a jewelry store. When the zombies came, I took some of the gold and ran for my life. But who would've thought... now gold's worthless."

His head dropped. His hands trembled—not from fear, but despair.

"I have a child to raise. I'm just... trying my luck. Maybe someone still sees gold as valuable."

"Didn't the city already set up food distribution?" Reuel asked, confused.

He knew for a fact that new arrivals were given food rations for two weeks. He was the one who approved that policy. There was no way his forces—especially the Cadia Shock Troopers—would let anyone starve. Unless…

Reuel narrowed his eyes. Something was off. Corruption? Abuse of power? He made a mental note to investigate.

"They did," the man said, "but what if the soldiers stop handing out food tomorrow? Then how do I feed my kid?"

Silence.

"How much gold do you have?" Reuel asked.

"Eight bars. Want them?"

"I'll take all of it. Wait here."

Reuel waved his hand. A plainclothes guard quickly approached.

"Give this man ten loaves of bread and take the gold," Reuel ordered.

"Yes, sir."

The guard left immediately to report to Major Hellsker—the commander of the Cadia garrison in Salt Lake City.

"Sir, you're too generous…" the man said, hesitant.

Reuel cut him off before he could continue.

"It's just ten loaves of bread. Honestly... you have a face that doesn't annoy me. That's all."

Once the matter was done, Reuel continued walking with Angie, leaving the man standing there, stunned, with bread in hand and a small flicker of hope in his chest.

"Angela, do you want anything?" Reuel asked casually.

"No. The food's edible, even if it doesn't taste... as good as at home," Angie answered innocently.

"Heh, true enough," Reuel said with a crooked smile.

Suddenly, Reuel spotted a group of people standing across the street. There was commotion—many men speaking in low but urgent voices. Like a market not marked on any map.

He pulled Angie closer and walked toward them cautiously.

As they arrived, several pairs of eyes turned immediately, drawn to the clean clothes Reuel wore—a rare symbol in this dusty world.

A man stepped forward, his voice barely a whisper but sharp as a blade.

"Sir, need a woman? Look at this girl... Pretty, just nineteen. Only a sack of flour, sir."

Another chimed in, making his pitch:

"Mister, look at this one. Beautiful, nice body, smooth face. She won't disappoint."

Reuel said nothing. His eyes fell on a young girl standing stiffly beside a middle-aged man. Her face was pale, her eyes barely daring to meet anyone's gaze.

"What's your relation to this girl?" Reuel asked the man.

"She's... my daughter," the man replied quietly, almost inaudible.

Reuel turned to the girl.

"Is that true?"

The girl gave a small nod.

"Yes... he's my father."

"You're selling your daughter?" Reuel's voice was flat, but his eyes were sharp.

The man took a deep breath.

"I don't have a choice. These past two weeks, the food from my job hasn't been enough. I have to feed four people... I can't afford it anymore."

"If I had any other option, I wouldn't do this..."

The atmosphere grew still. Nearby, several other men stood with women beside them—daughters, wives, sisters—all being offered up for the same reason: hunger.

Not by force, but by desperation.

Reuel held his breath. In his mind, he'd assumed this was just human trafficking. But now, he saw faces—not only of victims, but of perpetrators driven by circumstance. All of it born from a system not yet whole.

He made a vow then and there: once he returned, he would ban all forms of human trade in Salt Lake City. He would also initiate a population census, ensuring food distribution truly reached those in need.

Suddenly, Angie tugged at his sleeve.

"Brother... help them," she said softly.

Her gaze was sincere. Too sincere for a world this broken.

Reuel looked at the six women standing before him. Two of them were only a few years older than Angie. One looked fifteen, another nineteen. Two others perhaps in their early twenties. They were beautiful, but worn and weary. Maybe from lack of water, maybe from dreams long dead.

"If I just wanted beautiful women," Reuel thought bitterly, "my female guards are more than enough. But this isn't about beauty—it's about survival. And losing our humanity."

He looked at Angie.

"Angie, what do you think we should do to help them?" he asked gently.

Angie thought for a moment, then answered plainly:

"Just give them food."

Reuel gave a small nod, then followed up:

"But after the food runs out... what will they do?"

Angie looked at the women. Maybe in her mind, they were like broken dolls, discarded when no longer useful.

"Then... just buy them. If you don't, they'll still be sold anyway. Terry's too tired cleaning the rooms alone, right? Let them help."

She gripped Reuel's hand, pleading silently.

Reuel was quiet, weighing the options. Terry really had been struggling. Managing a large villa alone was more than she could handle. Perhaps the older girls could help keep the house in order. The younger ones... could be companions for Angie.

But before making a decision, there was a lesson that needed to be taught.

Reuel knelt down, eye level with Angie.

"Angie, I know you want to help. But listen carefully. If you buy them today, what about the hundreds of others who'll be sold tomorrow? This world isn't broken just because of bad people... but because good people give in too easily to convenient answers."

"If you truly want to help... be smart. Learn the root cause. One day, you have to be the one who tears it out—not just trims the leaves."

He patted her head gently, then added:

"Learn from Jill. Your sister understands better than anyone that this world isn't as simple as giving and receiving."

Angie nodded slowly, her lips pressed tight as she held back emotion.

"Okay, Brother... Angie will study hard."