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

"Alright, I'll take them. Each of you can carry two sacks of flour," said Reuel calmly but firmly.

"Thank you," the First Girl murmured softly.

"Thank you, sir," added the third one.

"Thank you so much," said the last, her voice carrying a faint note of relief.

Reuel had lost all interest in continuing the walk. He gave a brief order to the guards to prepare food for them, then led everyone back.

As they followed Reuel toward a convoy of strange military vehicles—armored transports unlike anything they had ever seen before—their surprise was evident. At the very front of the formation, Reuel boarded a Taurox Prime, a heavy combat vehicle that looked like a metal beast from another world.

The six girls exchanged glances, their hearts full of questions: Who exactly is this man...?

Once everyone was inside, the military convoy moved out. The engines of steel roared, cutting through the dust and silence of the post-apocalyptic world, heading straight for Reuel's residence.

When they arrived, the sight that greeted them was almost beyond belief.

The villa stood imposingly on a vast piece of land, surrounded by high walls and a tight security system. Hundreds of Cadian Shock Troopers—fully armed and clad in their distinctive armor—stood guard at the front post. As Reuel's vehicle entered the compound, they all saluted in unison with the symbol of the two-headed eagle, a gesture of unwavering grandeur and discipline.

Armed patrols, including guard dogs, roamed the perimeter, making it clear this was no mere house... but a fortress.

The six girls began to understand: the man who had "bought them" didn't just live in a regular home—he resided in a command-level stronghold. And with that realization came an even deeper question—who, really, was Reuel?

When the vehicle stopped and the doors opened, Reuel jumped down from the Taurox Prime without saying much. He then led them into the villa.

Neither Jill nor Alice was in sight. Both were known for their work ethic and were likely busy with their own responsibilities elsewhere.

"Angie," Reuel said, turning to her, "take them to Terry. Let her handle their placement and whatever else comes next."

"Understood, Brother," Angie replied obediently.

She immediately took one of them by the hand and began leading the rest down the villa's hallway, guiding them through the wide corridors toward where Terry usually worked.

Meanwhile, Reuel stood in silence for a moment. Then, without a word, he turned and ascended the stairs to the upper floor—to his study.

Sitting in his chair, Reuel was engulfed by waves of emotion—silent reflections on everything that had transpired today. Once, the apocalypse was merely something he witnessed through movie screens or the pages of a novel: fictional entertainment about the end of the world, always experienced from the safe distance of a spectator.

Now, the apocalypse was no longer a spectacle. It was real. It was here.

And the only thing he could do… was take a deep breath—and keep moving forward.

He was no Holy Mother, let alone a savior of mankind. He made no claim to stand among the great names etched into history with blood and sacrifice. But if, today, six souls could live just a little longer because of his actions—then that was enough.

He knew how lacking he was as a leader. Before arriving in this world, Reuel was a nobody. Even after merging with the body and memories of the Emperor of Mankind, he still clung to a single principle: I am not a god. I am still Reuel.

"It's been a while since I last signed into the system," he muttered, half lost in thought. "Even the last time I went to the desert base in Las Vegas... nothing happened. This system really has no clear logic."

The supplies he brought from that base had now been secured in the logistics depot under Cadia's forces. Some were stored for personal reserves—while more sensitive equipment, like the cloning device, remained sealed tight in the system chamber.

He thought of Jill. After entrusting the White Queen to her, the girl had looked as though she'd been handed an irreplaceable treasure. With a system that powerful under her command, managing Salt Lake City should no longer be a burden for her.

Reuel's gaze shifted to the communication screen glowing on his desk.

"Red Queen," he said firmly, "ask your sister, White Queen, to run a background check on those six women. I want to know if anything's suspicious. Then connect me to Major Hellsker."

"Yes, Brother," replied Red Queen's distinct voice through the speaker.

A few seconds passed, then a deep, resolute voice came through the device.

"Emperor, Major Hellsker reporting."

"Major," Reuel said calmly, "is Umbrella still sending recon aircraft to the desert base?"

"Negative, sir. We've already shot down twelve of their units, including twenty-four drones that made it past the outer perimeter. In the last two days, there hasn't been a single aircraft from the 'umbrella' corporation detected."

Reuel nodded slowly, mind immediately calculating the implications. Without aerial support, Umbrella's movements would be significantly limited—especially with hordes of uncontrollable zombies still flooding most of the roads.

"Good. Maintain coordination with Red Queen. If any aircraft approaches the desert base, shoot it down. No compromise."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

The transmission ended.

Reuel leaned back. Silence returned to the room, broken only by the soft hum of the cooling unit and the faint noise drifting in from outside the villa's window.

What will Umbrella's next move be? he wondered. And… what is Wesker planning?

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his thoughts drift among strategies, scenarios, and threats yet to be revealed. The world had changed. And the game of power was now being played atop the ruins of humanity.

---

Salt Lake City — A Private Residence.

Senator Harry Reid stood at the center of the room, surrounded by his loyalists. His face was stern, eyes burning with ambition.

"Is everything ready?" he asked sharply, his tone bordering on a command.

"Senator, all preparations are complete. Over a thousand people are ready to move," reported one of his trusted aides.

But the confident tone was quickly followed by a hint of doubt.

"But... we don't have any weapons. Can we really win without firepower?"

Harry turned his head. His expression remained unchanged, but another loyalist quickly stepped in.

"We'll raid the police station tonight. Their numbers are thin at night. If we strike fast and move in coordination, we can seize it with minimal resistance. Once we control the headquarters, the entire armory is ours."

Harry listened, then nodded slowly. "Good. That plan makes sense."

The room filled with nods of agreement. The tension shifted into determination.

"Once we get rid of that Middle Eastern bastard, this city will be mine," Harry said coldly. "You two—I'll appoint you as Chief of Police and Head of Defense."

"Thank you, Senator Harry Reid!" they chorused like dogs thrown a bone—loyal, power-hungry, and blind to the fact they were merely pawns.

---

Meanwhile — Salt Lake City Police Headquarters.

The air was thick with tension.

Jill Valentine stood tall in the operations room, eyes sharp as she stared at the monitor. Beside her, Claire Redfield studied the holographic tactical map projected across the interactive table.

"Claire, you'll lead the commando team. Hit them from two sides. I'll lead the main unit and pull them into the courtyard," Jill said calmly, with firm resolve. "Once they cross the perimeter, we seal the back gate. No way out."

Claire nodded. "Don't worry. White Queen is tracking their every move. They're like chess pieces in our hands now."

They exchanged a look—solid, professional, ready to strike.

The entire police force was on full alert. SWAT units, snipers, and tactical teams had taken position. No gaps. No mercy.

That night, as the sky turned into a blanket of darkness, the game began.

And this time, the hunters had already laid the trap.

---

Salt Lake City, nightfall.

As night descended upon the city, the streets of Salt Lake City grew quiet. Only a handful of patrol vehicles moved through the darkness; the rest lay silent in the shadows.

"Red Queen, connect me to Jill," said Reuel, standing before the window of his office, gazing into the night sky. He realized it was getting late and Jill, along with Alice, hadn't returned.

"Connected, Brother," replied Red Queen. Her holographic projection sat beside Reuel, awaiting further instructions.

Jill's voice came through the line.

"What's up, Reuel?"

"Why aren't you home yet?" Reuel asked, concern in his tone.

"I've got something to take care of tonight. I won't be coming back," Jill replied quickly. Her voice was brisk, and the background noise revealed a flurry of activity—clearly she was preparing for something.

"What's going on? Need help? I can deploy a temporary security division to assist."

"No need. Those idiot rebels are planning to attack the police department tonight. I've already set a trap for them," Jill said, taking a sip of water. "We can handle it. My department's more than enough to deal with those morons."

"Alright. But make sure you stay safe," Reuel said, unable to mask the worry in his voice.

"Relax, I know what I'm doing. I'm busy now, so I'm hanging up."

Without waiting for a reply, the call ended.

Knowing Alice was also still out and wouldn't be returning that night, Reuel decided to have dinner with Angie.

---

Salt Lake City Police Department.

As the communication ended, Claire turned toward Jill, one eyebrow arched.

"Who were you talking to just now? You seem like you're in a pretty good mood."

"My husband. Reuel."

Claire blinked. "Reuel? Your husband?"

"Yeah. You've seen him before."

"No way. I'd definitely remember if I'd seen a guy like that."

"You saw him when you first arrived in Salt Lake City. At the mountain road gate. Middle Eastern guy—looks kinda Turkish. Golden eyes," Jill said, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Claire replayed the memory—an imposing man with a piercing gaze and an impressive physique.

"He… he's that leader guy? Holy shit, Jill. Just how high is your husband's status?"

"Hmm… well, let's just say Salt Lake City kind of belongs to him."

Claire nearly choked. "What? You're saying… Salt Lake City belongs to your husband?!"

"That's right. Reuel is the supreme leader of this city."

Claire stared at Jill with theatrical disbelief. "Jesus Christ, Jill! Why didn't you say something sooner? I could've grabbed your thigh earlier!"

Jill rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Still about my thigh? I know exactly who you are, Claire."

"Hehehe," Claire giggled shamelessly.

---

Salt Lake City, 2:00 AM.

Claire offered a small smile and said nothing. The tension hadn't fully dissipated, but her adrenaline was climbing fast.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from the shadows. A group of men in black clothing, wielding batons, emerged from the darkness and charged toward the Police Department building.

"BOOM!!"

The main gate burst open. Dozens of rebels stormed in, one after another.

"Clear out the guards! Straight to the armory!" shouted Senator Harry Reid nervously from behind the line.

"Attack! Kill the guards!" he yelled again.

"Kill!" howled one of the rebels, 467.

"KILL! KILL!! KILL!!!" they screamed in unison, like a deafening choir straight from hell.

The rebels surged into the courtyard, batons raised high. But the moment they stepped inside—

"BANG! BANG! POW! POW!"

Gunfire tore through the night air, sharp and deadly.

One of them staggered and collapsed before even reaching the building's steps. Blood soaked the ground. Panic rippled through the rebel ranks.

"Keep going! There aren't many of them! If we fail now, we're all dead!" Harry Reid screamed from behind the bushes, his voice near desperation.

"MOVE!" he roared again, more plea than command this time.

The rebels tried to press forward—but all they found were bullets. From the upper floor, Jill stood calmly with the tactical team, automatic weapons in hand. Each shot was precise.

Bodies dropped one by one. They never even reached the entrance.

"White Queen," Jill said, still aiming, "tell Claire the net's ready to be pulled."

"Copy that, Sister," White Queen replied.

Meanwhile, Senator Harry Reid crawled toward the flower garden, his body trembling in fear.

"Attack! Follow me! Let's all rush them!" he cried out in hopeless panic.

But more gunshots stopped him in his tracks.

"BANG! BANG!"

A large force of police officers entered from the back gate, surrounding the courtyard and aiming their weapons at the remaining rebels.

One rebel tried to flee, but Claire's bullet found his chest before he could take a third step.

"EVERYONE ON YOUR KNEES AND HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!" Jill shouted.

She activated a small remote in her hand.

"If any of you are still standing after three beeps, you die where you stand," she said flatly.

"THREE..."

"TWO..."

Several rebels immediately dropped to their knees, faces pale as ash.

"ONE."

"BANG! BANG! POW! POW!"

Shots rang out without hesitation. Those still standing dropped without a scream.

"Cuff them all. Lock them up," Jill ordered coldly.

The police force moved quickly, cuffing the remaining rebels and escorting them to the holding cells.

Claire walked over to one detainee who had been shoved to the ground. She grabbed his collar and yanked him up to reveal his face.

"Jill, you've got to see this..."

Jill approached, eyes narrowing.

"Isn't this... our dear Congressman, Harry Reid?" She raised an eyebrow, then let out a dry chuckle. "What happened to his nose? Why's it all bruised and swollen like that?"

Claire smirked. "Probably from trying to play hero in the flower bed."

"Let me go! I'm a government official! You're breaking the law!" Harry Reid shouted, panicked.

"You're a traitor. You'd rather call my husband a terrorist than accept the fact that America's being led by someone from the Middle East," Jill said, stepping closer, her voice low and razor-sharp.

"No wonder you were so eager to start a coup," Claire added. "Your only problem is that my husband isn't white."

SLAP!

A synchronized slap from both Jill and Claire landed square on his face.

"Idiot," they said in unison.