A sprawling town of nearly one million people lay shrouded in a haze of smog. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the murky atmosphere, leaving the land below cold and dreary.
Despite the grim environment—industrial fumes, polluted rivers, and streets littered with trash and waste—the town was still a haven compared to the no-man's-lands and territories under hell's control. At least here, the townsfolk could live with relative safety. Unless demons or heretics launched a full-scale assault, the residents' daily worries revolved around survival:
Would they find food today? What about tomorrow?
These were not homeless wanderers but workers with steady jobs. The town's economy was centered around its numerous factories, their towering smokestacks belching industrial waste into the already polluted air. Nearby rivers were choked with effluents, and even the underground rivers used for drinking water were severely contaminated.
Positioned on the edge of the Holy Roman Empire, this town bordered the territories of hell's forces. The factories focused on heavy industry, producing the weapons, ammunition, and armor that kept the empire's armies supplied. Light industry, by contrast, was virtually nonexistent in the Trench Crusaders Universe ("One Three").
Food was imported from agricultural towns and villages in the empire's heartlands, but the supply was inadequate. Despite endless shifts on factory floors and assembly lines, workers could barely afford enough food to survive. Recreation? A laughable luxury.
As residents of the Holy Roman Empire, especially in a conflict zone, there were no entertainment venues to provide solace. The harsh realities of their lives left no room for such indulgence. After grueling shifts, their routine consisted of eating, praying, and collapsing into bed.
If citizens of the Main Universe or other imperial worlds were exiled here, it wouldn't take long for them to rebel outright, preferring to fight demons alone rather than endure such conditions. But for the humans of Universe "One Three," years of hellish encroachment and constant fear had left them numb. Rebellion or leisure were distant dreams.
---
However, one symbol stood as a beacon amidst the town's smog: the church at the town's center.
Perched atop a hill, the church's spire pierced the clouds, catching stray beams of sunlight. These rays refracted through its stained glass windows, casting shimmering patterns across the surrounding area. This spectacle only deepened the townsfolk's reverence for God and the divine, reinforcing their belief that the church was their only salvation.
---
In the town's northern alleys, Mike Monadi and Laura Crawford observed the church from afar. Its radiance dominated the central hilltop, and surrounding it were the mobile citadels of the Rebirth knight order.
These colossal vehicles, known as "Titans," moved on massive treads. They housed living quarters for the knights and priests, as well as chambers for their religious rituals and body modifications. The knights' reputation was complicated: their ancestors, the crusaders, had opened hell's gates nearly a millennium ago. Their descendants bore the weight of that sin, and the public viewed them with disdain.
The Titans allowed the knights to remain mobile, self-sufficient, and capable of deploying anywhere to fulfill their duties. Currently, the Rebirth knight order was stationed in this town, ostensibly to defend it against incursions from hell.
---
Standing in the shadow of a decrepit building, Laura asked Mike via their helmet communicators:
"Sir, should we incite the townsfolk to rebel?"
Mike shook his head. "Look at them. They've lost interest in everything. They're too numb to be stirred into action."
"What's the plan, then?" Laura inquired.
"We'll find an abandoned building and set up a temporary base of operations for this mission," Mike replied, already moving toward the eastern side of a large factory.
"Yes, sir," Laura answered, following closely behind.
---
The two navigated through alleys and pathways around the factory, inspecting each structure. However, every building was either in use or repurposed, leaving no suitable abandoned space.
Seeing no viable options above ground, Mike led Laura into the town's underground system—the sewers. They walked along a narrow maintenance corridor beside a foul, murky stream that exuded a stench so repulsive it was indescribable.
Under her helmet, Laura grimaced. While their fully enclosed combat suits filtered out odors, she still loathed the environment. However, her training had been rigorous. Even without her gear, if Mike ordered her to jump into the sewage, she would obey without hesitation.
---
Before long, the pair arrived at a utility room.
Mike disabled his optical camouflage and crouched to place a portable equipment case on the ground. Opening the case, he revealed several metallic hydrogen bombs.
"Rousing the townsfolk with words isn't going to work," Mike remarked, handing half the bombs to Laura.
"You've seen it yourself—they've turned prayer and devotion into routine habits. Soft methods won't cut it here."
Laura hesitated. "So, we're going hard?"
Mike smirked. On his helmet's map display, he marked several red triangles across key points in the town and explained:
"If we try to promote the Codex Imperialis peacefully, the church will brand us heretics. The townsfolk might even report us for a reward—grain or cash, probably."
He paused for effect. "So instead, we'll destroy their power plants and defensive emplacements. That'll draw hell's forces to attack. Then the Ordo Hereticus can—"
"I see!" Laura interjected, catching on. "The Ordo Hereticus can sweep in with overwhelming force and turn the situation into a demonstration of imperial power."
"Exactly," Mike confirmed, exiting the utility room. "It's time to make some noise."
"Yes, sir!" Laura replied, following him with renewed determination.
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