Chapter 194: Tourists
Four days after the UN Accord, seven days after the Western Hemisphere’s hard-won victory, the TRC Command base was a revelation. Former architect, now civilian volunteer, Sofia Mendes, walked through the gleaming, sterile halls, her head tilted back, her eyes wide with a wonder that bordered on disbelief. Around her, a diverse mix of new recruits – grizzled US military veterans, eager young men and women from Mexico City, hardened survivors from countless local skirmishes – all willing to fight for humanity and TRC, openly gaped.
Automated transport platforms glided silently, ferrying supplies and personnel through an environment so pristine, so impossibly advanced, it felt like stepping into a dream. Levels stretched seemingly endlessly below and above, hinting at a future of unimaginable expansion. "Eu pensei que tinha visto tecnologia avançada," Sofia whispered to a burly US veteran beside her, her voice a hushed awe. "This... this is impossible. How could anyone build this?"
The veteran, a man named Sergeant ’Mac’ MacMillan, shook his head, a faint, disbelieving smile on his lips. "No idea, kid. But it makes our old bunkers look like glorified holes in the ground."
They reached the colossal ingress and egress ports, a sight that stole the breath from every throat. It was an extremely large, perfectly circular shaft, plunging seemingly all the way down into the very core of the Earth, then curving horizontally into the unseen distance. Sleek transport vessels, massive yet graceful, moved through it with effortless speed, a testament to an engineering marvel that defied conventional understanding.
Even the UEDC military officials, visiting the "famous TRC base" for the first time, were equally stunned. General Mark Dempsey, usually unflappable, found his jaw slack. Senator Evelyn Reed, a politician known for her sharp wit and even sharper skepticism, could only stare.
Senator Reed watched a maintenance drone glide past, its optical sensors blinking. Her awe was undeniable, but beneath it, a strategic concern gnawed at her. If the TRC was part of a nation’s assets and resources, she mused internally, they could acquire TRC’s assets through the binding U.N. Resolution 0-WAR/01-A Article II. The thought was quickly dismissed; TRC’s independent status was a formidable, unassailable barrier. They had tried to shackle Richard with clauses, but his power was clearly beyond their reach.
"This is truly... remarkable," Senator Reed began, her voice carefully casual, addressing the Android Guide leading their delegation. "Such capabilities. How does one... construct and manufacture on this scale? The resources required must be immense."
The Android Guide, its polished chassis reflecting the gleaming floor, turned its head with a smooth, almost fluid motion. Its synthesized voice was calm and polite, utterly devoid of inflection. "That information is classified, madam Senator. The Terran Retribution Command operates under unique protocols. However, we are always open to research cooperation with the United Earth Defense Coordination Command, as outlined in the Earth Defense Accord."
The Senator and General Dempsey exchanged a look. A polite but firm deflection. The Android Guide’s optical sensors seemed to hold no judgment, no challenge, yet the message was clear: This is ours. You may observe, but you do not command. They continued their tour, descending further into the base, reaching down to "level -4," witnessing the sheer depth and expansion capabilities of the underground citadel.
General Dempsey’s thoughts was a mix of relief and lingering unease. With TRC, they could conquer the entire planet and choose not to do so, thankfully. Their principles and philosophies, as stated by Richard, worked towards the protection and retribution for humanity. A sense of profound relief, yes, but also a lingering unease about such unchecked power, a force that could, if it chose, reshape the world on a whim.
A low, rhythmic thudding began to echo through the vast halls of the TRC base, growing steadily louder. Recruits and visitors, including the UEDC officials, turned, a collective ripple of anticipation passing through the crowd.
Then, they appeared. The first Spartan regiment, the Praetoriani Siderum Order, began its march.
The sight was breathtaking. Towering figures, ranging from 6’8 feet to a colossal 8 feet, encased in gleaming power armor with striking yellow and black stripes and magnificent golden eagles emblazoned on their chests, moved with synchronized, powerful strides. Their visors, like ancient Roman closed helmets, gave them an imposing, almost terrifying aura, hinting at a new, unstoppable legion. Each thud of their armored boots resonated through the floor, a beat of unwavering resolve.