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

Haneda Airport, Tokyo

As Reuel strolled casually through the main terminal of Haneda Airport—now firmly under Imperium control—his mind wandered to one particular thing: the check-in system. He'd just slept with Takagi Yuriko the night before, which meant Yuriko was now officially one of his women. Technically, the check-in mission had been completed.

"System," Reuel called out. "What's the reward for last night's check-in?"

While lying in bed with Yuriko, the system had sent him a notification. Reuel had barely acknowledged it, simply saying "enter" before dismissing it entirely. His attention had clearly been elsewhere that night.

Ding! Host has obtained 10% of the Emperor of Mankind's power.

"Ten percent?" Reuel frowned. "So now I've got…"

Ding! Your total Emperor of Mankind power is now at 50%. To obtain the rest, please figure out the method yourself.

"What do you mean I have to figure it out myself?!"

Ding! Host, I'm a system, not your babysitter. In every universe, there are unique power sources—be it technology, magic, or rare artifacts. Host may explore and trade them through the system if relevant to increasing the Emperor's power.

Remember who the Emperor of Mankind is. If he were serious, a single sword swing could split reality itself. With 50% of his power, you're strong enough… at least until you encounter conceptual gods like the Chaos Gods. If that happens, system advice: kill yourself immediately. The system will search for a new host.

And let's hope your soul doesn't end up as a plaything for the Chaos Gods in the Immaterium.

"Son of a bitch, system!"

You son of a bitch!

Reuel kept muttering, arguing with the cold, sarcastic AI system as if it were enjoying his suffering.

---

Near a Major Supermarket, Tokyo

A woman in a police uniform led a small group of civilians through the narrow streets of Tokyo, now littered with rubble and the stench of death. The radio had announced a safe zone at Haneda Airport, and they were currently heading toward a police station to regroup.

"Miss police officer... I'm really tired. Can we rest for a bit?" asked Marina, her voice trembling.

Asami Nakaoka glanced back at her. Though her face showed signs of exhaustion, her eyes remained sharp. The police station was now visible in the distance.

"We're almost there. But stay alert. This area is crawling with zombies," she whispered, gently tugging Marina's arm.

"Everyone, stay close. We'll rest and grab weapons at the station, then head to Haneda. Some of my colleagues might still be alive there. Follow me. I know the back alleys," Asami told the group.

She paused for a moment, pointing toward a house by the roadside.

"We'll rest there. Five minutes."

Of the roughly thirty survivors left, most were beyond exhaustion. Some were in shock, unable to tell life from death anymore. Behind them, low growls began to rise—zombies emerging from behind charred vehicles.

---

Temporary Command Center – Haneda Airport

Inside the command center, Reuel stepped into the main ops room. A massive holographic screen displayed satellite imagery: thousands of zombies converging on Tokyo from all four directions. To the north, Astra Militarum troops were led by Chris Redfield. The southern and western fronts were under Major Hellsker, while the eastern flank was commanded by Colonel Minka Lesk. Each commander led 200,000 troops.

"Your Majesty," said Misako from Legion Alice, "we're waiting for them to cluster. Once they do, we'll launch an airstrike from the Starfighters at their highest concentrations."

"Misako, didn't I tell you already? Do whatever you want. I'm just here to watch. Don't bother asking me."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Reuel then sat in the command chair, watching the busy screens and subordinates moving without pause. He himself said nothing.

And for the first time… he felt like a true Emperor. No stress, no burden. Others would carry out his will.

"So this is what power feels like," he thought. "No wonder everyone wants to be a king."

---

Haneda Airport Seaside

Gentle waves lapped softly against the shoreline, creating a natural rhythm that clashed with the distant rumble of battle. Under the gray sky, Takagi Yuriko walked slowly along the beach, her daughter—Takagi Saya—walking silently by her side.

"Mom... where did you go last night? I woke up, and you weren't in the room," Saya asked quietly, trying to suppress the unease that had been gnawing at her. She'd noticed something different this morning: her mother looked beautiful—but not just beautiful. There was a glow about her. Something unfamiliar... and maybe suspicious.

"I had something to take care of. So I went for a walk," Yuriko replied, trying to sound casual. It was a lie, of course. There was no way she could admit the truth—that she got drunk and ended up sleeping with Reuel.

But Saya's expression didn't change. Her eyes were sharp—like a thin blade. Calm, precise, and impossible to fool.

"Mom..." Saya spoke again, her voice soft but firm, "what exactly is your relationship with Mr. Reuel?"

She hesitated as she looked at her mother. There was fear in her eyes—not fear of being scolded, but fear of hearing the truth.

Yuriko turned to her slowly. "Saya... what do you know?"

"I... saw you leave last night," Saya said, lowering her gaze. "I followed you. I saw you go into Reuel's room."

The words came out like a bullet—calm, direct, and lethal.

Saya hadn't meant to snoop. But her curiosity had pulled her in. She'd crept closer to Reuel's room and stood just outside. She tried to listen. And what she heard... was her mother's voice. Loud. Shaking. And clearly not something a daughter should ever hear coming from behind another man's door.

She couldn't forget that sound. She couldn't accept that her mother—the strong, dignified woman she looked up to—had done that. And deep down, she felt sorry for her father. Her clueless, faithful father back home.

Yuriko said nothing. Her body froze. She hadn't expected this. Saya had followed her... and heard everything. Her head dropped, her face pale. Her mind went blank. What could she possibly say now? Anything she said would feel hollow. Saya already knew.

Panic set in.

"I... I..." Yuriko mumbled, staring at Takagi Saya, who stood with her head lowered. The girl's cheeks were flushed red, her eyes refusing to meet her mother's. Maybe her mind was drifting back to last night—to what had happened between Yuriko and Reuel. Yuriko herself didn't know what to say. Would she believe me if I said we just drank too much wine?

"Mom… I'm not blaming you," Saya said quietly, her voice barely audible. "I know you're not happy at home. I know… you and Dad have been sleeping in separate rooms for a long time."

Saya lifted her head, looking at her mother with a mix of confusion and sorrow. She knew her parents' relationship had been broken for years, barely held together by formality. But still—Reuel? He was too young, too unfamiliar… and too close.

"Sweetheart, I don't even fully understand how it happened," Yuriko said softly. "Even though I've only known Reuel for a few days, somehow… I feel alive again. We had some wine last night and… well, you saw the rest."

Her gaze drifted toward the sea. The morning breeze swept gently through her hair. For the first time in years, she felt at peace. The weight of the past, the bitterness of her marriage, the wounds she had buried deep—all of it felt like it was being carried away by the waves.

Saya stared intently at her mother. Something had changed. Her posture, her expression, even the way she stood. Yuriko looked younger, lighter, more alive. Like a woman who was… in love.

Before she could say anything, the thunderous roar of engines shattered the silence. Both of them instinctively looked up at the sky.

Dozens of high-tech aircraft—Banshees, Vikings, and Valkyries—were taking off from the base, one after another. Their wings sliced through the clouds at incredible speed, forming near-perfect formations in the air.

"Mom, what are those?" Saya asked, eyes wide. "There's more than fifty of them!"

"They're going to bomb the zombies," Yuriko answered calmly, her eyes still on the sky. "The undead are getting closer to Tokyo."

"The zombies… they're already here. Aren't you afraid they'll come this way?" Saya asked, her voice far calmer than the fear behind her expression.

"Don't worry," Yuriko replied, squeezing her daughter's hand. "Let's just wait and see if they dare to come close."

She gently pulled Saya along, leading her into the command center built within Haneda Airport—an improvised military facility now serving as the heart of the capital's defense.

Inside, Reuel stood tall before a massive screen, bathed in pale blue light. His eyes were sharp, focused on every movement displayed by the orbital tactical system. One by one, the bombers vanished into the sky, heading for the battlefield. On the ground, the Astra Militarum forces were already in position.

The approaching wave of zombies was staggering—over ten million of them, moving like a sea of rotting flesh without pause.

"The troops have been divided into four sectors: North, West, East, and South Tokyo. Each reinforced with two hundred thousand fully armed soldiers!" a commander's voice rang out through the internal comms. His tone was firm and under pressure.

The battlefield rumbled with the sound of lasgun fire, the boom of heavy artillery, and the thunder of Leman Russ tank cannons. The war machines rampaged through the undead masses, hurling rotted bodies in every direction. But no matter how hard they fought, the zombies kept pushing forward, driven by a primal instinct that knew neither pain nor fear.

Strangely, the more they were shot at, the more ferociously they came. The gunfire seemed to act like a beacon, drawing them in.

Reuel frowned as the screen flashed red—several markers were breaching the outer perimeter. They had slipped through and were spreading rapidly toward civilian zones inside the city.

"Lord Reuel, have the zombies reached the city?" Yuriko asked, her voice alert but steady as she entered the command room, Saya walking a few steps behind her.

Saya stayed silent, her eyes locked on Reuel. The longer she looked at him, the more she realized how little she actually knew about this man. From their first meeting at school, to the bus, to her own home, and now here in the command center—Reuel remained the most bewildering and captivating figure in her life.

"Yes," Reuel replied flatly, eyes still on the screen. "This place… is now one of their mass graves."

On the screen, the horde of zombies shoved against one another, trampling, crashing, being thrown back—yet they kept advancing, oblivious to pain or fear. Yuriko and Takagi Saya could only watch in growing horror as the wave of death surged across the display. Their skin crawled at the sight of that monstrous flood of soulless bodies—an unending tide of the dead.

One by one, the Banshee and Valkyrie aircraft dropped thermal bombs. Lasgun bursts followed in blazing red streaks, alongside thunderous artillery and relentless cannon fire from Leman Russ tanks. The battlefield turned into a blazing hellscape—zombie bodies exploded, limbs torn apart, flung in all directions in showers of flame and thick, black blood.

Instinctively, Yuriko and her daughter turned their faces away. The scene was too brutal, even for those who had grown used to living in the ruins of a world lost.

But the bombing didn't stop. The heavy weapons didn't rest. And behind every fallen corpse, more undead came pushing forward. Tirelessly. Ceaselessly. Mercilessly.

The battlefield had become a giant meat grinder.

When the bombing run finally ended, the aircraft began to return to Haneda Airport to reload ammunition and refuel. On the ground, Viking units deployed next—shifting from flight mode to land-based assault vehicles, unloading rotary gatling fire into the remaining pockets of zombies.

All that remained were burning piles of corpses and chunks of rotten flesh—remnants of the swarm crushed by tanks, artillery, and relentless gunfire.

Reuel stood in silence at the center of the command room, watching everything unfold on the massive tactical display. Wave after wave of zombies continued to come, crawling over mountains of scorched corpses. But now their lines were fraying. Their formations broken. Their momentum starting to falter.

The battle raged on through the entire day—from dawn until dusk.

Now, the sound of gunfire slowly faded. The air was thick with the stench of gunpowder and blood. But the silence that followed wasn't victory—it was merely the eye of the storm.

The next wave could come at any moment.

The Astra Militarum remained on full alert, weapons armed, radar systems active. The day-long barrage had likely drawn even more undead from the outskirts of Tokyo.

Current estimates put the number of remaining zombies in the city at around 50,000. A manageable number for Reuel's forces. If he gave the order, they could be wiped out swiftly.

"I'm hungry," Reuel said suddenly, breaking the silence. He rose from his chair and glanced at Yuriko and Takagi Saya. "Let's find something to eat."

"I could eat too," Yuriko replied with a soft smile, though the fatigue in her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.

Without another word, the three of them left the command center and returned to the Takagi family residence.

Dinner passed in silence—an eerie, fragile silence. Tension lingered in the air like gunpowder smoke, quiet but heavy. As if the battlefield had clung to their skin, refusing to be washed away.

Saya kept glancing at Reuel. Something was building in her chest, words she couldn't quite bring herself to say.

"Is there something you want to ask, Saya?" Reuel finally said, calm as always, his gaze steady—like he could see through her hesitation.

Saya's hand clenched on the table. Her voice was barely more than a whisper when she finally spoke.

"Can you… save my father?"

Reuel looked her in the eye. On the outside, he appeared composed—cold, confident. But inside, his thoughts were a battlefield of their own. Full of calculations, burdens, and decisions paid for in blood.

"Out there, there are millions infected," he said quietly. "My forces have destroyed many of them. But even I can't be everywhere at once."

He took a breath, then continued.

"I don't yet have the manpower to rescue every survivor in hiding. Not now. If I pull troops from this sector for just one man—even if that man is your father—I risk the lives of thousands still waiting to be evacuated."

Saya bit her lower lip, lowering her gaze. Her eyes went blank. But not for long.

She raised her head, her eyes burning with a quiet resolve.

"Then…" she said softly but firmly, "can you sell weapons to my father's group? Even if it's just for 100 yen. Right now they don't even have proper gear—they're fighting with wooden sticks."

Yuriko turned to Reuel. Her expression shifted—no longer soft or questioning, but firm and resolute. She knew her daughter better than anyone. Saya Takagi wasn't the kind of girl to beg, and if she had opened her mouth to ask, then it wasn't just a request—it was a conviction.

She looked at Reuel again, this time with a gaze deeper than before. Full of hope, yet grounded in realism. She knew what kind of man her husband was—Soichiro Takagi wasn't one to flinch in the face of death. But going up against a zombie horde with nothing but wooden sticks?

That was the same as throwing a samurai's honor into a bottomless pit.

Reuel remained silent for a moment. His face unreadable—untouched by the emotions of lesser men. He took a slow breath, then spoke firmly, without hesitation:

"Yuriko Takagi. Take your daughter to the military depot. Get as many weapons as you need. Deliver them to your husband's group."

For a brief second, surprise flickered across Yuriko's face. Her eyes widened slightly, as if she couldn't believe what she'd just heard.

"Are you sure?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

Reuel gave a subtle nod. His eyes were sharp, but expressionless.

"As far as I know, there's a container of U.S. military gear on the west side of the hangar. Nearly ten crates. Take them all if you have to."

He offered no explanation. No mention of the debt still lingering—a debt owed to a man who had once humiliated him, but whom he had long since forgiven. He didn't speak of the more personal motivations either—of the nights he now spent with Soichiro's wife.

This was his way of atoning. With weapons. With a chance at survival.

To him, those weapons were nothing but scrap metal—obsolete reserves his elite units would never touch. Outdated tech, irrelevant by the standards of the Imperium of Man.

If Soichiro Takagi could survive the next wave, good. If not… then fate had spoken. Death was not the end in the Imperium of Man—merely a transition to a greater judgment.

As Emperor of the Imperium of Man, Reuel couldn't afford personal attachments. He saw the world in terms of strategy, not sentiment. He had to.

What he didn't know—and what none of them knew—was that another plan had already been set in motion, running silently in the background.

The Inquisitors and the Adepta Sororitas, the fanatical holy orders loyal only to the purity of the Emperor's doctrine, had their own agenda. To them, Soichiro Takagi and his group weren't just potential allies—they were heretics.

Civilians who refused to worship the Emperor. Who questioned Reuel's authority. Who defied submission.

And tomorrow, over fifty thousand zombies would be deliberately redirected toward the Takagi estate. Through sabotaged routes. Left open on purpose.

A purge. A reckoning.

"Exterminatus in miniatura," whispered one of the Inquisitors.

Cleansing by fire. For the purity of the Imperium. For the honor of the Emperor.