Empire Civil War 2

Klaus Richter paced the hidden room in headquarters. Those he called comrades were there with him. Preparations were complete. Once the coup began, success or failure would be decided within 12 hours.

Why 12 hours? Because Erebus's dormancy and activity cycles split the day precisely in half. If the takeover wasn't achieved in that time, Erebus would enter its active phase without an administrator. In that case, Erebus's collapse would begin—and once collapse started, the coup would be irrelevant. Humanity itself would end. Klaus's justification and power would vanish into nothing.

"The plan is ready. We have plenty of contingencies."

He repeated it to himself, trying to drown out his inner anxiety.

"The units are prepared, right?"

"Don't worry, sir! They're the elite from every Middle East branch. And once the operation starts, every available force worldwide will deploy immediately."

"Good..."

Klaus activated his cyberware to check the time. Ten minutes left.

"Chief of Staff! Team 3 of Division 3 is standing by at the Erebus entrance."

Today's secretaries tasked with escorting the chairman. Open supporters of the princess from Division 3. He'd deliberately assigned them there to pull them away. What on earth was the princess doing to inspire such loyalty? Rumors said they were smitten by her talent and ability. Klaus dismissed it as nonsense. Since when did the world run on talent and skill? Only the vile, the bold, and the ruthless survived to rise. He knew it better than anyone.

And now it was time to prove it. Cashian Krabets, humanity's pinnacle of intellect, would fall to the masses.

"Divisions 2, 4, and 5—all follow me."

"Yes, sir!"

With Klaus's order, Rebellion Against Heaven began. Suffocating tension filled the room as Klaus led the way out.

The familiar daily broadcast played right on cue, and the secretaries entered the Erebus facility. They passed through the long corridor and opened the entrance to the emperor's throne, Erebus. They lifted the chairman onto the bed, administered neural stabilizers, then wheeled him back through the corridor to the recovery room. Decades of training, flawless execution every time—no room for error.

But today, that routine was shattering history.

"...What is this, Chief of Staff?"

Suits blocking the path back to recovery. Divisions 2, 4, and 5. Nearly a hundred strong, including Klaus himself.

"...A critical issue has arisen. We'll take the chairman ourselves."

"What issue?"

"No time to explain."

Team 3 of Division 3—princess loyalists—faced off against the rest of the secretaries loyal to Klaus, the chairman between them. Any secretary chief who couldn't read the room didn't deserve the title.

"...We're not idiots, Chief."

"Fine, let's rephrase."

Klaus's face was impassive.

"Hand over the chairman if you don't want to die."

The chief quietly rested his hand on his pistol. Klaus's group did the same in unison. Klaus sneered.

"You sane? Fight this many?"

"After all the chairman's done, are you sane?!"

"Still spouting that human drivel."

Klaus drew his own gun, aiming at the chief. Both sides trained pistols on each other.

"We know each other well. Ordinary rounds won't pierce our skin. Right? Ever thought how many bullets you'd take before dying?"

A blatant threat. The chief bit his lip, unyielding. Then, the chairman on the bed spoke weakly.

"Even if you all... die, you'll take me..."

"Chairman...!"

"Give me to Klaus. He can't kill me."

Klaus scoffed at the words.

"An old man outside cyberspace, and I can't kill him?"

"When your cute plan... fails. Cough, cough... aren't I your last hope?"

"Thought you'd lost your edge stuck in Erebus... still sharp, huh?"

But what could he do? Klaus gestured, and secretaries wheeled the bed away. The chairman was dragged off helplessly. Team 3 watched with murderous glares. As the bed passed Klaus—

"...Team 3! Escape!"

The chief's order. They fired pistols and bolted sideways. Klaus's side fired back, but he stopped them.

"Cease fire! Full war is a last resort."

They'd taken minor wounds, but Team 3 would escape the facility. Fine. Everything was going to plan. This standoff—talk, stares, tension, negotiation—was ideal. Full assault? Just brute force through. Delay crossing the line as long as possible. Twelve hours was short. Victory went to whoever held Erebus after. They'd secured it first—stall for time. Losing Team 3 stung, but they weren't major forces.

"Chairman secured. Tell all units to advance."

"Yes, sir!"

The entire Erebus management facility shook. Klaus's private army had infiltrated.

The heavy broadcast boomed through the facility. Confusion mixed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with those in the know, threats from gunmen—chaos everywhere.

"Deploy the technicians."

"Yes!"

Now Klaus's chosen would alter Erebus's settings. If all went well, Erebus wouldn't rely on one man. The chairman's utility gone, all power to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Klaus and his faction with Erebus.

Right—and thinking of factions brought up the core issue. The princess, Neige. Her group was already in the building. Graduation ceremony. Perfect. Easier to trap them together. That's why he'd timed it for today.

"Status on Sector 47?"

"Sealed successfully!"

"Good, good...!"

Everything flowed as planned. Ecstasy boiled within; Klaus clenched his fist. Then a secretary watching spoke.

"Why not just bomb Sector 47 and wipe them out?"

"...You sane?"

"Pardon?"

Klaus grabbed his collar with a sigh.

"Know how many are in Sector 47? If they all die? Who notices first? The Saint Legion."

Those fanatic zealots—no talk, no negotiation. Their 'Maria' killed by bombs? No contact with chairman? They'd launch missiles and charge HQ. Excluding the princess, their biggest threat. Strongest single force deployable in 12 hours.

"When do other units arrive?"

"Europe, Africa, Asia—all en route. No later than 6 hours."

"Good. Just secure numbers."

They communed in religious camps kilometers away. Secure headcount before they noticed, block them. All per plan. Stall FOR TIME.

Klaus led his faction to the Erebus control room, watching technicians tweak settings. No reports was good. Time was on their side.

But minutes later, a frantic voice.

"Sector 47's seal breached!"

"Already?"

Klaus muttered in shock. The princess was loose. Contact with Saint Legion? Disaster.

"...Relay to Division 1. Switch to Plan B."

Plan B to buy 12 hours.

"Division 1 assassinates the princess. Combat units control her idiots in 47 as they arrive."

Until Erebus collapse: 11 hours, 45 minutes, 21 seconds.

ImmuneWire's sector seals were top-tier. Not just physical blocks—cyberspace links severed too. Escape should've taken time. No smashing walls or side paths otherwise.

But Svetlana's instincts provided a wireless link to outside. Division 1 under her had hooked up an emergency line.

Division 1 plugged an emergency line into HQ's cyberspace main building. Meaning I could infiltrate ImmuneWire HQ's systems.

[Master owns A-1 code]

[System non-hostile.]

HQ cyberspace was vast. Even excluding distant massive Erebus. Building-sized like a small city; cyberspace several times larger—a metropolis.

Finding sector management? Easy. Like navigating a lifelong home.

Hack without deep dive? Trivial.

I shifted gaze to the sealed door. It should've opened smoothly but groaned oddly.

Saints moved first, research coat from graduation fluttering as he pressed against it.

"...Rebar inside."

He tore into the adjacent wall, dismantling internals expertly.

Clea joined to assist.

"How'd you know?"

"Cyberware major. Rebar inside makes that sound. Neige, close it quick."

I closed on Clea's relay. Saints yanked out a thick rebar with grunts; Lorenzo pulled too, and it slid free.

"Weak from pen-pushing."

"Shut it, alloy pig."

Seven years of that banter. We knew it was their affection—ignored.

I reopened. Smooth now. But couldn't exit—armed soldiers blocked.

"By Chief of Staff's order, Sector 47 sealed. No passage."

Chairman kidnapped, blocking on chief's order? Hard to play dumb.

"What the hell! Move!"

Staff argued outside as I scoured cyberspace for intel. Heading to Erebus pondering kidnapped chairman, blockers appeared. Division 1 secretaries—Klaus's direct subs.

"Lady Neige, where to?"

"No obligation to say."

"HQ under Chief of Staff's emergency. You do now."

"And if not?"

"Force it. No deep dive chair there, right Lady Neige?"

Obvious threat, knowing our setup. Pride stung. Caught cyberdemon solo at 12. Fused war hero memories, won AIs' love. More cyberware, adaptation advanced. Seven years stronger. Yet still underestimated after all I'd done for ImmuneWire. Kinda hollow. True, real combat in ages.

Time to prove.

Shifted consciousness to reality, briefed Svetlana.

"Blockers ahead."

Chairman snatched, blocking me the princess. Obvious coup. Klaus finally pulled it.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"They're not combat-ready. Full war, all die."

"Your orders?"

"Evac all, borrow Saint Legion power outside."

"Understood. I'll clear outside path. You fighting, miss?"

Fight meant me on cyberspace. Fourteen years together—understood without words.

"Activating feigned sleep cyberware. Guard my body."

"To your friends. Careful."

Glanced at friends—nodding confidently, no worries.

Back to cyberspace.

Body sleeps, half deep dive effect. Useful in pinch. Plenty for this.

Dozens glaring. All elite bitmancers from Division 1.

'V, Z.'

'Lethal code authorized.'

'Handle them as you see fit.'

Raised hand; book materialized. Activated program. Massive data wave surged from fingertips through the net.

Division 1 Teams 2 and 3 fell into unknown space from Neige's attack.

"...Why no defense?"

Unsettling. Failure proved the gap.

Clap—environment shifted. A beautiful maid before a mansion—Neige's core system.

"Coordinate-shift ICE? That maid's the core?"

"It talks?"

V smiled gracefully, curtsied.

"What concept is this program...?"

Secretaries exchanged baffled looks, but V continued.

"...No time for this crap! Breach!"

"Yes!"

V stepped forward. White-purple data curtain spread across floor.

Curtain hit—secretaries' data shredded away.

Teams 4 and 5 landed in a massive library. Cursing the bizarre maze ICE.

"What maze ICE is this?! How?!"

"...Smash. Can't solve."

Nodded, summoned serpents. Uroboros Protocol—unleashed everywhere, library crumbling.

A maid watched smiling amid it.

"What?!"

"That maid! ICE core!"

Snakes lunged—but maid emerged from shelves, among them.

"...What bullshit?"

Maid examined debris.

Strolling amid ruins, smiling—then sad face.

Clap—library vanished. Pristine original returned. Secretaries stared blankly; Z perched alluringly on railing, gazing down.

"What just..."

"Did that program say 'backup'?"

"Yes."

Chief mumbled dazed.

"Running two complex libraries... without deep dive?"

"A human can...?"

Bitmancer compute from brain. Computer or cyberware irrelevant—trash brain, trash results. Division 1 knew.

"Same... human...?"

Z snapped fingers. Dozens of books summoned, opened. Secretaries' next memory: gone.

As V and Z annihilated secretaries, Neige fought too. Division 1 chief and Team 1 there—but now just chief. Last survivor of a non-battle. Neck gripped by Neige, limp. She squeezed—neck twisted, data crumbled.

Division 1: wiped.

Klaus stared blankly at deep dive chairs, Division 1 corpses.

"What... happened?"

All dead. Neural and brains fried.

He wanted to deny. ImmuneWire chairman secretaries. Division 1: his handpicked elites. World's top bitmancers, fighters.

"...No deep dive chairs there, right?"

Denial futile—reality stark. Klaus recalled youth: believed talent pierced all. Challenged walls with smash mindset—failed. Now: groups over individuals. Masses over genius.

So what was this? Talent toppling towers. Like mocking his failure: lack of talent.

"Impossible..."

Inner whisper: something wrong. Believed Cashian humanity's peak intellect. If not him, then...?

Until Erebus collapse: 11 hours, 21 minutes, 12 seconds.