?!
The sudden reversal before their eyes was completely beyond the expectations of the girl and her two companions.
Their expressions froze in an instant. Hunters who had held the upper hand a second ago became trapped prey, their eyes full of shock and disbelief.
They had never imagined that this seemingly isolated tail would not only remain calm, but even bring in comrades to pull off a precise "counter-encirclement."
While they were still stunned, Mike sprang from the low wall like a leopard, his movements smooth and explosive. Before the two "armed civilians" could react, he was already on top of them.
A clean, sharp knife-hand strike landed squarely on the wrist of the one holding a gun. With a cry of pain, the pistol flew from his grasp, only to be neatly caught by Mike.
At the same time, Mike's other hand clamped down on the man's shoulder while his knee pressed expertly into the small of the man's back, instantly robbing him of balance and ability to resist.
On the other side, Maggie moved with even greater simplicity and efficiency.
She didn't even make any large motions. She just slipped up to the other gunman like a ghost. He felt only a sudden numbness in his wrist, and then his sidearm was gone—its cold muzzle now pressed against his own ribs.
It all happened in a flash. The two armed men were completely disarmed, frozen in place and afraid to move.
Leon took advantage of the brief opening to walk slowly toward the girl, whose expression was shifting rapidly.
He raised his hands in a placating gesture, his gaze steady and his tone as gentle as possible as he spoke:
"Relax. We don't mean you any harm. If we scared you, then I apologize."
He paused, watching her reaction, then went straight to the point. "We only want to make contact with what you call the 'resistance.' We need information—and you might need help."
The girl stared into Leon's eyes, as if trying to judge whether his words were true.
"…"
She drew a deep breath and shot back, her voice heavy with suspicion and wariness, "And how am I supposed to know you're not spies sent by the National Guard?"
The "National Guard" she mentioned was clearly a reference to those lesser-equipped human collaborator enforcers serving the alien occupiers.
Faced with her doubts, Leon didn't rush to explain who he was or flash any Imperial insignia. That would likely only look like a trick.
Instead, he offered a choice that sounded cold, but carried real weight:
"We can't—and don't need to—prove anything to you. Trust goes both ways.
Right now, the choice is in your hands.
Either you turn us down. We leave, and we write off your resistance group as shortsighted fringe elements with no value, not worth any further investment of our effort."
He deliberately laced his words with a hint of "contempt," meant to provoke her. Then he shifted tone:
"Or, you take us to someone who can actually make decisions.
Take that risk, and maybe we can bring you the one thing you truly need: a way to end this dark age of alien rule as quickly as possible."
At the phrase "end the darkness," the girl visibly flinched. A bitter, mocking, yet helpless smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
She shook her head, her voice weary from long years of hardship. "End the darkness? Easy for you to say. This 'darkness' has lasted twenty whole years. We've been struggling for twenty years, losing more people than we can count… How is that supposed to be easy?"
Her tone carried the crushing weight of despair, but in her eyes there was still a flicker of unwillingness to give in.
Leon's words—especially that seemingly arrogant confidence—had touched the deepest layer of her heart, where hope was nearly worn flat.
After a few seconds of silence, she seemed to make up her mind. Her gaze hardened, like someone about to bet everything in one desperate gamble.
She glanced at her restrained companions, then at the composed trio in front of her, and finally nodded.
"Alright… Come with me. But don't try any tricks."
"Lead the way," Leon replied simply.
Under the girl's guidance, they started moving through the maze-like ruins of the district.
They turned left, then right, again and again. The route was extremely complex, clearly designed to evade possible surveillance and tails.
The girl knew the terrain like the back of her hand, always finding the most hidden paths and skillfully avoiding patrol craft and low-flying recon drones sweeping overhead.
After a period of stealthy travel, they finally stopped before another abandoned apartment block, its exterior just as dilapidated as the others.
To the naked eye, the building looked no different from their previous safe house—desolate, silent, and scarred by war.
However, with their professional eyes, Leon, Mike, and Maggie noticed the differences immediately.
Their holo-glasses picked up multiple concealed observation points and the weight of unseen eyes peering from window cracks and gaps in the walls.
Numerous hidden sentries were keeping a tight watch on the surroundings, their presence lending an invisible pressure to the air.
"Looks like this is one of their strongpoints in the area," Mike murmured, his gaze sweeping across several likely sniper perches.
"Yeah. A forward outpost or operational hub," Leon agreed. "The real base wouldn't be this close to the city or this exposed to patrols."
They followed the girl inside.
In contrast to the ruined exterior, the interior had clearly undergone some reinforcement and modification.
They saw old generators, comms gear cobbled together from scrap parts, and makeshift defensive positions built from sandbags and metal plates.
The room smelled of machine oil, sweat, and tension.
Their arrival immediately triggered a strong reaction.
Several resistance fighters armed with poorly maintained but still functional rifles snapped their weapons up, aiming straight at the three strangers. The atmosphere turned taut in an instant.
"Easy, everyone! Put the guns down first!" the girl shouted at once, spreading her arms to block the line of fire between the two sides. "I brought them here! They have important intel. I need to see the Captain right away!"
Hearing her words and seeing that she was unharmed, the soldiers' hostility eased slightly, though they did not fully lower their weapons.
One guard who looked like a deputy glanced over Leon's group a few times, then nodded to a young soldier at his side.
The young man turned and hurried deeper into the building, clearly going to report.
They didn't have to wait long.
Before long, a set of steady, powerful footsteps echoed from the corridor.
A burly man with a thick white beard, a weathered face, and sharp eyes, with the rugged features of an Eastern European, strode in accompanied by a guard.
He wore a worn-out old field jacket and radiated the aura of a veteran commander who had seen many battles.
Seeing him, the girl visibly relaxed. She immediately stepped forward and introduced him to Leon:
"This is the officer in charge of our operations in this sector, Captain Nikolai Ivan Demetri."
Nikolai's deep-set eyes locked onto Leon's group like searchlights, filled with scrutiny, doubt, and a faint, hard-to-spot spark of hope for any "variable" that might change the current state of things.
His gaze lingered briefly on the way Leon and the others stood, their measured breathing, and the way their relaxed poses could turn explosive in an instant.
Experience told Nikolai these three were anything but ordinary. They carried the unique air of people forged time and again in seas of blood and corpses—first-rate fighters, and not just competent ones, but elite.
More importantly, he saw no obvious hostility or contempt in their eyes. Rather, there was a calm, evaluating look, as if they were the ones assessing this ruined ground.
That attitude actually let Nikolai ease his guard just a little.
At the very least, they were nothing like the arrogant scum of the National Guard or the cold-blooded enforcers sent by their "alien masters."
The battle-hardened veteran was the one to break the silence. The lines on his face relaxed slightly as he spoke, his deep voice carrying a faint rasp:
"Strange friends, you can call me Nikolai."
As he spoke, he stepped forward and, without hesitation, extended his scarred, calloused right hand to Leon, who stood at the front.
It was a gesture full of risk but also necessity—an offer of cautious, preliminary trust.
Seeing this, Leon didn't hesitate either. He extended his own right hand and gripped Nikolai's rough, powerful hand firmly.
Both men could feel the strength and resolve in the other's grip.
"An honor to meet you here, Captain Demetri." Leon's tone was steady and respectful. "I am Leon S. Kennedy."
He turned slightly and indicated his companions behind him. "These are my colleagues, Mike Monadi and Maggie Shaw."
After they released hands, the basic formalities were complete.
But Leon knew the real exchange of information was only just beginning.
Meeting Nikolai's probing gaze, he dropped a revelation that would shake everyone present:
"We are all members of the Human Empire's Investigation Division."
Leon spoke clearly, making sure every word was heard. "We came here first and foremost to investigate and confirm exactly what kind of alien power has thrown your world into this state."
?
The Human Empire?
Investigation Division?
These two unfamiliar names fell into the resistance fighters' minds like boulders into a still lake, sending shockwaves rippling through the room.
On every face—those of the girl who'd brought them here and the well-traveled Nikolai alike—shock and disbelief were obvious.
"What are they talking about?"
"Human Empire? What's that supposed to be?"
"Did I hear that right?"
Low murmurs ran through the ranks, filled with confusion and doubt.
All contact with other continents and regions had been cut off for twenty years now. A so-called "Human Empire" sounded like something from a fantasy.
Seeing their reaction, Mike knew words alone wouldn't be enough.
So he stepped forward, said nothing at first, and simply rolled up his right sleeve, revealing the wrist-mounted personal terminal beneath.
He tapped quickly across its surface. A soft beam of light shot out, forming a clear, stable holo-screen in midair.
"Looks like we need a little background," Mike said, taking over, his tone light but his hands precise as he pulled up a pre-edited intro package meant for first contact.
As the projection began to cycle through images and short clips, silence fell over the strongpoint.
On the screen, they saw:
A magnificent Imperial fleet spanning the stars, its scale beyond imagining.
Orderly, thriving human worlds from different universes.
Astartes Legions in heavy power armor, ranks rock-steady.
And the Imperial dragon emblem that symbolized humanity's unity and strength.
The expressions on Nikolai and his fighters' faces shifted like frames in a film:
From confusion and deep skepticism—
"Is this for real? This has to be special effects, right?"
To stunned awe as they saw the massive fleets—
"My God! How… how is that even possible?!"
And finally into something complex and hard to describe—a mix of hope, bewilderment, and a trace of fear.
Above all else, they struggled to accept that somewhere—perhaps in several somewheres—out in the universe, there really existed such a powerful, unified human civilization: the Human Empire.
What the Empire showed of its military and technology far outstripped even their wildest hopes, surpassing the Old Earth's golden-age science fiction by a wide margin.
The girl who had brought them here—her name was Anna—couldn't help stepping forward. Pointing outside, she spoke in a voice trembling with excitement and a hint of accusation:
"If you… if your Empire is really that strong, and you're here to help us, then why not send troops right now?
Use your warships and soldiers to wipe out every last National Guard traitor and those damned aliens?!"
Her eyes blazed with the fire of revenge and a desperate desire for a quick victory.
Mike understood her feelings, but he shook his head, his tone turning serious and pragmatic:
"Young lady, war is not a game. If we unleashed heavy guns and orbital bombardment right now in some blind, large-scale attack, sure—we'd kill a lot of enemies. But we'd also cause civilian casualties on a scale you can't even begin to count.
Ruins would collapse, stray rounds would ricochet everywhere, and panic would trigger stampedes. It would be another catastrophe."
He pointed to the outlines on the holo-map. "What we need is solid intel—
Where are the enemy's command nodes?
Where are their main forces garrisoned?
Where are the key energy facilities?
Where are the civilian camps?
Only once we have that can our strikes be as precise as surgery—cutting out the tumors while protecting as many innocent lives and groups as possible. Reckless bombardment is the last resort, not the first choice."
Nikolai had been listening in silence.
Now the old soldier nodded heavily, his expression showing deep agreement:
"I concur. That's the soundest and most responsible approach. We've fought for twenty years, not so we can die together with this city's ruins and every last survivor. We want liberation, not annihilation."
His words carried the weight of bitter lessons learned the hard way.
But just as the tense yet hopeful conversation was gaining momentum, a shrill alarm whistle sounded from outside.
A resistance fighter on perimeter duty burst in, face tight with urgency:
"Captain! Bad news—large numbers of Combined Army troops and National Guard enforcement units just rolled up outside! They're surrounding the area! The sentries report that it looks like they've found this place! A clash is about to erupt!"
The fragile flame of hope that had just been lit was suddenly overshadowed by a looming crisis.
The tension in the strongpoint spiked to a breaking point. Every fighter snatched up a weapon, eyes turning to their commander, Nikolai—and to the three "Imperial visitors" who had just brought them world-shaking news.
______
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