Within the planetary warships, the warriors of Shield Cross Stars moved about like the ants of a colony, the speed and organization reaching an immaculate realm.

At that moment, within the personal cabins of some of the most elite troops there were, several meditating powerhouses slowly opened their eyes, their auras flashing with a robust heaviness before retracting into gentle streams of cool wind.

One after another, they stood.

Each one of these individuals was completely in the nude, soaking in a dense jelly-like substance. They stepped out with a movement and immediately became dry beneath an odd, inexplicable process.

They dressed themselves systematically. The rhythm was so smooth and without hitches that it would be clear to anyone watching that they had done this thousands of times. Although their rituals were all different, each one had one that they had drilled into their minds over decades.

However, no matter how different their processes were, in exactly three seconds, they all had finished dressing themselves and stepped out.

The moment they did, the hustle and bustle of the planetary warships seemed to slow and quiet, the echoes of their footsteps setting a new rhythm that they all fell into.

They stretched out their hands.

As obedient as servants, several groups rushed forward and handed them halberds twice the height of their bodies.

They stretched out their forearms.

In just as quick movements, several more groups rushed forward and handed them shields that weighed as heavy as mountains.

The moment they were equipped with weapons and shields, their steps only became heavier, the rumbling momentum causing even the warship itself to quake and shake.

The more these echoes resonated, the more controlled the others seemed to become. With every passing second, the cohesion of the group grew further. Even as they increased their pace of movement, the smoothness remained the same and, in fact, greatened. As though they were perfectly choreographed traffic, no one interrupted the path of another person, even to the point their shoulders didn't brush.

These entities stepped out, reaching the bow of their ships as crowds of warriors, previously seemingly moving in an unorganized swarm, formed neat and even lines to their back. For each one of these six planetary warships, there were 12 such existences, each one wielding the very same halberd and shield.

The uniformity was immaculate.

Their faces seemed hardly recognizable to the public, but to the terrorist organizations of the Dimensional Verse, they were all too well known.

Captain Zylgella.

to the vast majority, however to the people of the colloquially known

an increased activity in Gods and Faiths due to certain unique opportunities presented. Unfortunately, that also made it

Captain Zylgella's stomping ground. Over the years of his dominance, he came to be known as the Guillotine Apostate. The number of shrines and places of worship he had felled beneath his blade and

Captain Urrith.

the vast majority, however to the people of the Skyward Sector, her name shook their souls and sunk claws

Skyward Sector was one of the few barbarian Sectors of the Human Domain. There were only two methods of gaining such a title, both of which usually came hand in hand. The first was that there was not a prominent human family or organization in majority

Oryx were not the only non-human race in the Human Domain, there were batches of others in

tended to be particularly lawless. Since these regions could not be controlled by humans, it

maintaining control, Shield Cross Stars

odd winged race followed to her back, having wings that alternated

she had subdued an

Captain Wimword.

to the vast majority. Even to the people of the Necro Sector he oversaw, this name was completely unknown to them. However, the name that they did

and corrosion Forces, making it impossible for most to live there normally. Those that did were often sickly, malnourished and frail of body. This made them easy for beasts to prey upon and it was considered to be

was, until Captain Wimword set his

were just three, just three of the 72 that had appeared, each one with a more vicious title and history than the last, and each fully prepared to lay down their lives in the

at the bows of their ships. Although less than a second had passed since they

And then, they jumped.

felt his spine

ground, retreating slightly and retracting his spear. Aina seemed to notice his change immediately and reacted in kind. Her hair fluttered in the air as she stepped onto a rotating blood rose, with a raise of

BANG! BANG! BANG!

earth rose into

narrowed as his

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

fiercely that it almost threatened to throw him off

so this only made the situation several times more difficult to handle. However, before it could truly get out of hand, all of the

vision finally cleared, he found that both he and Aina were surrounded by towering shields the size of buildings. There were exactly 72 of them,

the angle, their translucent nature being just transparent enough

footsteps began to resonate. Each and every one of them walked at the exact same pace, raising the exact same leg and walking forward in unison. The resonance made it sound as though

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