Epilogue

The exploratory squad landed about two hundred meters from the ancient forge-temple. The long millennia had seen the once incredibly vast structure buried beneath strata of rock, layers of dust entombing the rusting metal.

"You sure this is the place?" Private Enrico asked, his armored fingers tightening around the trigger of his laser carbine. The majority of the infantry was clad in Celestial combat armor, a lightweight armor that was three meters tall, resembling a muscular human. Except that the armor's muscles were made of polymer fibers and cables, and the skeleton was a titanium alloy rather than bone. Each was equipped with a Volcano M22 laser carbines, the light infantry weapons capable of emitting fifty mega joules of energy, capable of slicing through fifty centimeters of steel.

They were accompanied by several hulking war walkers also known as Marauders, seven-meter tall bipedal machines equipped with dual Sunfury M48 plasma cannons, in addition to smaller lasers underslung from their bellies. Their clawed feet crunched into the crumbling rock, their servos whirring as they kept the war walkers upright.

"Yes, Private. And if you question my orders again, I'll put a beam through your head myself." Lieutenant Raoul snarled, his heavy Marauder armor clanking against the ground. A blinding ray of light swept from the suit's illuminators and chased the shadows from the ancient forge-temple, bringing to view countless puffs of dust.

"Nobody has been in this place for a long time," Corporal Dietrich commented, moving in her Celestial armor with comparatively superior agility.

"I don't care if no human has visited the location for millennia," Raoul snapped. "We go in assuming there will be hostiles. Stay frosty, people. Don't let your guard down. I don't want to lose a man to complacency and carelessness. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Wallace, you're up."

"Yes, sir."

Corporal Wallace was piloting the squad's only Warlord war walker. Towering over even the hulking Marauders, the Warlord was fifteen meters of bristling titanium and adamantine. Twin missile pods were set atop the shoulders, and a single Sunfury plasma cannon was set within the center of the fuselage. On either side of the bipedal machine, resembling arms, were particle accelerator cannons, long barreled weapons that launched destructive ions at near c-acceleration (basically light speed). Very little enemies in existence could withstand such immense firepower, often reduced to molten slag upon impact and the release of exponential amounts of kinetic energy.

The Warlord was also the most heavily armored and had the most energy shields, which was why Raoul had directed its pilot, Wallace, to go first. If there was any weapon still operational in this decrepit forge temple, the Warlord should be able to withstand whatever firepower it threw at them.

Raoul was loathe to lose any of his men. He was aware that the higher-ups would get mad at him for putting the valuable Warlord at risk, but he didn't give a fuck. Machines and war walkers could be repaired and rebuilt if necessary, but the loss of life was permanent. As much as military propaganda would tell you that they could replace combat losses with fresh recruits, they neglected the fact that you couldn't simply make up for all those lost years of practical experience and training. Fresh recruits were more prone to making mistakes than veterans, and they would have to go through the long, arduous process of accumulating experience all over again.

Nothing happened. The Warlord stepped toward the entrance, a slab of steel that served as a ramp-like door, but there was no reaction from the forge complex. The whole structure remained dormant, as it had for centuries, if not millennia.

But that didn't explain the faint spike of radiation that picked up by orbital platforms.

"Kick the door down, Wallace," Raoul ordered. The pilot of the Warlord nodded, his head bobbing in a holographic screen to the lieutenant's side. The particle accelerator cannons flared to life, the long barrels glowing. Then there was a shriek before twin pulses of blinding light punched through the heavy door and disintegrated it.

The soldiers of Raoul's squad instantly got into positions without any order from the officer, taking up positions and seeking cover, their guns and plasma cannons all pointed toward the interior of the forge-temple.

Nothing happened.

"Move in. Celestials first. Escort the Warlord. Sergeant Samson, you take point."

"Roger that, sir."

Samson was clad in a Celestial armor, so the NCO was perfect for leading the lightly armored infantry into the narrow corridors. The hulking Marauders would follow behind, led by Raoul himself. The lieutenant had sent the more agile infantry forward to scout ahead for any presence or hostiles within the temple complex itself.

"This looks like something built by the scientists of Old Earth," Enrico remarked, scanning the interior with his suit's lamp and half-studying the analyses by his armor's AI, which projected the compilation of data as holographic images across his visor.

"Old Earth? Then it must be at least twenty thousand years old," Dietrich muttered.

"Can the chatter, people," Samson snarled. "Eyes front and center."

The armored soldiers moved through the labyrinthine corridors of the forge-temple, but they didn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary. The silence was deafening, broken only by the heavy clangs of their armor's feet against dusty concrete. Puffs of dust rose up in clouds, encircling them like brown mist, but their sensors did not register any other moments.

"Looks like no one's home," Private Neill whispered, feeling spooked.

"There shouldn't be anyone here in the first place," Raoul said with a sigh. "The source of the radiation seems to come from the center of the complex. Let's head there."

The squad moved cautiously through ancient and abandoned tunnels, eventually coming across a colossal chamber that served as the heart of the forge-temple. Rather than have Wallace blast the blast doors apart, Raoul had Private Hudson hack into the door's machines and bring them back to life when the latter reported low levels of energy.

"The place might be dormant, sir," the private had said. "But I can detect a current. If I'm not mistaken, I might be able to…uh, switch the door back on."

"Do it."

Hudson carried out the order, his Celestial combat armor plodding swiftly. No automated turret fired upon him, so he proceeded to the data pad at the side of the blast doors and hacked into it. It only took him a few seconds to open them.

There was a rumbling and the massive blast doors slid open, revealing the colossal chamber within. Thick fog billowed outward and their suits registered a drastic drop in temperature.

"A cryogenic chamber?" Dietrich murmured, her voice filled with awe.

"What were they preserving in here?" Enrico demanded nervously, lifting his laser carbine to point within.

There was a hiss and the single cryogenic chamber slid down, machinery whirring and lights coming to life. The soldiers adopted combat stances immediately, their weapons panning the entire interior.

"What the hell are those?" Enrico demanded, catching sight of hulking humanoid shapes that were at least five meters tall. Two rows of them stood rigidly on either side of the lowering cryogenic chamber, like sentries.

"Combat robots," Samson said, his voice cold. "Keep your weapons on them. If they come to life and start shooting at us, I want you to shoot first."

"Yes, sergeant!"

The robots did return to life, their eyes winking on and glowing eerily. Their weapons swiveled about, but none of them opened fire, so Raoul threw out a hand.

"Hold your fire!" he ordered. "Don't give them an excuse to attack us!"

His command seemed prescient. For, when the soldiers lowered their weapons, the robots returned to their positions, their weapons swiveling away. The lieutenant focused on the chamber, which was slowly opening. They could all see a human figure in the center of the fog, my emaciated figure shivering from the cold as I woke up.

Staggering out of my chamber, weak after so many years of hibernation, I fell to my knees and gagged. My stomach was empty, so I couldn't throw up. Glancing up at the armored figures, I wheezed, but my voice came out only as a croak. I had forgotten how to speak. It took me a few moments of moving my tongue around in my mouth and moistening my lips before I finally remembered.

"W…what year is it?"

Raoul exchanged a glance with Samson, his second-in-command shrugging. He turned to glare at me, his face concealed by the armored helm of his Marauder suit.

"M30, year 998."

"M30…?" I repeated hoarsely, not understanding. Raoul frowned, not that I could see him. But I could somehow sense his emotions. I wasn't sure how to describe it, but my mind had expanded beyond my mundane five senses, allowing me to skim through their surface thoughts. To sense life-forces and mysterious energies in the air. Then I understood, thanks to these…preternatural abilities. "The 30th millennium?"

Good lord, twenty-seven millennia have passed since I was last awake. Old Earth was gone, replaced by Terra.

"Who are you?" Raoul demanded, pointing his plasma cannons at me warily.

For a moment, I didn't know how to answer. But then I smiled and slowly stood up, pulling away the cables that were tethered to my skin and veins. Cables and tubes feeding me intravenously and sustaining me for an unimaginable amount of time.

"You can call me…the Divine Emperor."

Note: Divine here uses the character Shen, which is homophonic with the protagonist's, Trevor Shen, name.