I am the Emperor of Humanity across the Multiverse

On the holographic screen, the Reaper mothership's energy shield shattered like a broken mirror, rapidly collapsing and disintegrating.

Indeed...

The same spot on the energy shield had endured the continuous bombardment of four tungsten steel rods at 0.12% of light speed, a barrage of plasma main and secondary cannons, and finally, a direct hit from the equivalent of billions of tons of TNT. It was no surprise that it eventually gave way and broke apart.

This was the full firepower of the Atlas Fleet, with only one opportunity for a missile salvo.

Had the shield remained intact, the fleet would have had to resort to Plan B: sending Saint-Gilles and a select group of elite forces aboard the Seahawk assault shuttles, attempting to infiltrate the mothership using stealth and precise speed control.

But Plan B was a gamble.

Now that Plan A had succeeded, Sean Rice immediately commanded, "Proceed with the original plan! Coordinate with the fleet, close in on the target, and draw as much attention as possible to create an opening for the assault team."

"Yes, sir!"

All crew members focused as they worked together to maneuver the Dawn into action.

Beep!

Suddenly, a short, piercing alert rang out.

The radar operator's expression grew serious again as he reported to Sean Rice, "Captain! Our position has been exposed, and the enemy is attempting to lock onto the Dawn... They've completed the lock-on!"

"Full speed ahead!" Sean Rice pulled up a more detailed holographic star map. Seeing that the Reaper mothership had unleashed a dense barrage of energy projectiles, he continued issuing orders: "Helmsman, veer the ship toward coordinates 36.67.36, then close in on 35.66.35 to evade the incoming barrage! Gunners, return fire! Let them know we humans aren't sitting ducks!

"Communications Officer, inform the Fides and Dawn that after reaching 36.68.36, we'll engage the antimatter engines for a 15-second burst. Make sure they're aware to avoid unnecessary collisions!"

"Yes, Captain!"

With Sean Rice's string of commands, the Dawn rapidly sprang into action.

On the star map, the Dawn moved in an undulating pattern, dodging as the Reaper mothership's barrage neared.

At this point, the crew didn't need the star map or holographic screens. Through the sealed observation windows at the front and sides of the bridge, they could visibly see the overwhelming wave of green energy orbs hurtling toward them and the Dawn.

Closer...

Closer...

Everyone held their breath until the Dawn narrowly evaded the barrage, finally easing the tension that had gripped them like a knot in their throats.

Although the Selene-class ships were equipped with superconducting magnetic field devices that could deflect or divert incoming energy attacks, facing such a massive wave of cannon fire meant the Dawn would be doomed.

But this assault was bound to result in direct conflict with the Reaper mothership.

Thus, the entire crew placed their trust in their captain's decisions and believed in the Dawn's ability to endure until the end.

Having dodged the large-scale barrage, the Dawn reached the designated coordinates. The helmsman then adjusted the ship's angle according to Sean Rice's orders and prepared for the antimatter acceleration, loudly announcing:

"All hands, prepare! The ship will engage acceleration in three...

Two...

One!"

As the countdown ended, the Dawn began a brief but incredibly rapid burst of speed.

Due to the lack of reference points nearby, it seemed like nothing had changed outside the sealed observation windows.

However, the Reaper mothership at the Dawn's bow appeared to "rapidly enlarge," as if zooming in, now clearly visible to the crew's naked eye.

Gazing at the mothership outside, Sean Rice's tone deepened: "Communications Officer, inform the fighter squadron to deploy immediately."

"Yes, sir!"

——

Outside the Dawn's bridge.

From a distance, observers could see the Dawn and the Atlas Fleet covering 30,000 kilometers in just over ten seconds, closing in for a close-quarters engagement with the Reaper mothership.

Inside the Dawn's hangar:

The space was tight, with a magnetic acceleration launch track running through its center.

At this moment, eight Whiteleg Falcons were undergoing final checks by the ground crew.

To maximize efficiency, this area remained in a vacuum and low-temperature state during combat.

The ground crew worked in fully sealed protective suits and mechanical exoskeletons, with oxygen supply hoses attached to their backs, so there was no concern about oxygen depletion.

Ground crew operating maintenance mechs also followed regulations, wearing protective suits to avoid accidents.

In addition to the eight Whiteleg Falcons, forty unmanned drones equipped with mini fusion engines, shaped like triangular "deltas," were lined up on trapezoidal racks.

At this moment:

Whiteleg Falcon number 01 was lifted by a large mechanical arm operated by the ground crew and transferred to the end of the launch track, where its landing gear connected with the magnetic catapult slot.

Inside the single-pilot cockpit, the pilot, fully suited in a sealed flight suit and wearing a holographic helmet, completed final checks.

After ensuring everything was in order, the pilot glanced outside at the ground crew, signaling with a wave before reporting via helmet comms: "Bridge, this is Captain Javier Norlion. The fighter squadron is ready for deployment. Requesting clearance to launch."

"Bridge here. Clearance granted. And good luck, Captain Norlion."

"Understood."

Captain Javier Norlion, piloting the Whiteleg Falcon, was immediately launched down the open launch track into the vast depths of space.

Whoosh—whoosh!

The remaining Whiteleg Falcons and drones were also rapidly launched from the Dawn.

Before long, Javier's helmet screen displayed all the squadron's data and real-time information.

However, Javier's attention was drawn to the sight of the Reaper mothership.

Its sheer size, stretching hundreds of kilometers in length and width, resembled a celestial body, momentarily stirring his subconscious fear of giant objects.

But with mental preparation and the knowledge that only he and his squadron stood between the enemy and Earth, Javier quickly steadied himself. Looking toward the "swarm" of enemy fighters emerging from the mothership, he spoke:

"This is One. All units, follow my lead. Launch two metallic hydrogen air-to-air missiles at the enemy fighter swarm."

Beep-beep!

Before he even finished speaking, Javier's helmet screen locked onto the Reaper fighters—disk-shaped or resembling legless scorpions.

Without hesitation, Javier pulled the red trigger, releasing two air-to-air missiles from the Whiteleg Falcon's belly, speeding toward their targets.

Soon, hundreds—if not thousands—of air-to-air missiles filled his view.

It seemed the entire Atlas Fleet's fighter squadrons had synchronized to launch a wave of missile salvos.

Then—

Boom—boom—boom!!!

Tiny "suns" blossomed in the cold depths of space.

___________________

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