- The Empress -

  The Empress drew a long, measured breath, her patience wearing thin after yet another interminable meeting with her generals. ‘What do they desire this time?’ she mused, a hint of irritation flickering across her otherwise stoic visage. The ceaseless infighting amoroops was being tiresome, even to someone of her siderable years.

  Before her stretched the vast war chamber—a colossal hall made from a stone and reinforced with immeeel beams. The architecture exuded an aura of raw brutality and power, hallmarks of a culture that revered strength above all else. The stone walls were etched with ruheir mystical patterns aiding iaining the are energies harnessed during their rituals.

  Magi enigma that the Empress had never fully grasped. Bestowed by the gods upon a select few, its ws remained elusive to her. She was not among the fortunate gifted with such talents. Yet, her veins carried a legaiquely touched by these mystical forces, granting her lineage lifespans nearly a huimes lohan any of her peers. It was little wohat nothing in this war surprised her anymore; she had wits patter themselves dozens of times over.

  At the ter of the chamber y a moal tactical table sculpted directly into the floor. Its expansive surface shimmered with ethereal projes—ever-ging battle maps and shifting troop movements rendered in silver and azure light hues. Around it, generals huddled, their voices a chorus of deep, guttural tohat echoed through the hall. mismatched armor adorned with jagged spikes and war medals, they gestured emphatically as they debated strategies and termeasures.

  Above them, the empress sat upon a colossal throne. Her imposing figure was encased in a unique armor. The armor's dark sheen was interrupted by intricate engravings and runes. Her gaze, pierg and unwavering, swept over the generals below, scrutinizing every word spoken, every movement made.

  Behind her, vast banners draped from the vaulted ceilings, their rich crimson and onyx fabrics stirrily in the subtle currents of air. Embzoned upon them were sigils of quest and annihition—emblems of her empire's relentless expansion and dominance.

  "Empress Grashka!" One of the red-skinned Generals turowards the throne. His voied through the grand war chamber, eg off the stone walls etched with a runes. "We ot tinue like this. The Ioids keep expanding and accelerating their incursions in the easterors. If we don't aow, they'll spiral out of trol!"

  "Silence," she anded, her tone as cold and unyielding as fed steel. Seated upohrone, Empress Grashka's gaze was unwavering. "We've had this versation before. With the resources at our disposal, we ot prepare a defense against the Ioids. Besides, they must be fag pressure from the north as well."

  The general's jaw tightened, his eyes refleg a mixture of frustration and dissent. It was clear he disagreed with her assessment, but to Grashka, he was little more than a petunt child—a soldier who failed to see the bigger picture.

  "Instead of wasting time discussing the Ioids," the Empress tinued, her sharp gaze pierg each of the assembled generals, "you should be fog on the front with the humans. Do not uimate them. That's how we lost the opportunity to elimihem during the initial Waves." Her reprimand hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of past failures. Some of the generals shifted unfortably, memories of those defeats still fresh despite the passage of time.

  "Yes, Your Majesty," the general ceded, bowing his head. "In that case, there's little reason for . The humans persist with their old tactics, desperately ging to any minor victory to push us off Olympus."

  Aneneral stepped forward, his armor rattling with the movement. "We have most of the Titans pnned ready for deployment," he reported. "They won't know what hit them. We should be capable of wiping them from the pirely. Additionally, we have several fleets positioo prevent them from receiving any support from off-world."

  Grashka leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. "When will this attaence?" she inquired.

  "We will initiate month," the sed general expined fidently.

  The Empress stroked her thoughtfully.

  Just as the tension in the war chamber reached its peak, the massive iron droaned and swung open with a resounding g. Every head turned as a yellow-skinned Ork messenger hurried inside, his footsteps eg against the stone floor. The ruched into the walls seemed to flicker in respoo his intrusion.

  Empress Grashka fixed him with a furious gre, her eyes bzih the shadow of her ceremonial helm. The air grew thick with a palpable hostility, and the generals fell silent, stepping back to allow the messenger passage.

  "Empress, we have received an urgent message," the messenger announced, bowing deeply to avoid her wrath.

  "Speak," Grashka anded, her voice cold and sharp as tempered steel.

  "It was transmitted through our secret el," he expined, straightening cautiously.

  Grashka's eyes narrowed. "Ah, it must be the brat from the shadows," she mused, a hint of pt c her words. She had anticipated a message after such a long silence.

  "He reports that the humans are close to disc our pnt on Olympus," the messenger tinued. He bowed again, then stepped back, hoping to retreat from the ter of her ire.

  A fsh of anger crossed the Empress's face. She smmed her fist onto the armrest of her throhough the gesture seemed restrained, it sent a shockwave of Energy rippling through the chamber. The very air vibrated. The runes along the stone walls fred ominously. Evetle-hardened generals felt the weight of her power pressing upon them, a suffog force that stole the breath from their lungs. The messenger fell to his knees, gasping as he struggled to remain scious.

  "How many Titans do we have ready?" Grashka demanded, her gaze cutting like a dagger toward the general.

  Clearing his throat, the general straightened despite the oppressive Energy. "We have over fifty awaiting your and," he replied, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a hint of unease.

  "Then attaow," the Empress ordered, her tone brooking nument. "Reduce the human base to dust."

  A murmur rippled through the gathered generals. Finally, one mustered the ce to speak, stepping forward hesitantly. Swallowing hard, he dared to meet Empress Grashka's pierg gaze.

  "Your Majesty," he began cautiously, "is this also the will of od? His st message to us was that we should fortify our positions on Olympus."

  Grashka's eyes fshed with fury, and the very air in the chamber seemed to crackle with tent Energy. "I AM YOD!" she thundered, her voice eg off the stone walls and causing the ruched upoo shimmer ominously. "The life of ead every one of you is in my hands. I am the envoy of the Sn, and I will lead you to victory. MARCH!"

  Her excmatio no room for doubt or hesitation. The generals felt the weight of her authority bearing down upon them like a physical force. The one who had spoken paled visibly under her wrath.

  "Y-yes, Your Majesty," the Olympus general stammered, bowing deeply to hide the flicker of apprehension in his eyes. He retreated into the ranks, his earlier defiahhly quashed.

  Grashka's gaze swept over the assembly, each general wilting slightly under her intense scrutiny. She took a deliberate breath before tinuing, her voice l but losing none of its fiertensity. "Dispatch the Bio-Mage to the brat," she anded. "This will strike a blow against humanity, divide their forces, and secure Olympus for us."

  One of the generals bowed sharply and hastened out of the chamber, his footsteps eg as he rushed to fulfill her orders.

  "Are the prisoners we acquired still on Olympus?" Grashka inquired, direg her question to aneneral.

  "Yes, Empress," the sed general responded promptly. "We've been using them for resear the itans."

  "Evacuate them immediately," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for obje. "We ot afford to lose them under any circumstances. If we have mao turn the war in our favor, it is because of them. If even one prisoner is lost, I will hold each of you personally responsible. I will have your heads!"

  GCLopes