The Imperial troops aboard the Dawn Angel had thought they'd seen it all. They'd roamed the starways and fought countless battles. They'd watched warships burn in Orion and seen C-rays flash beside the Chaos Gate. Surely nothing in the universe could shock them into silence.
And yet, for a full three minutes, the bridge of the Dawn Angel fell utterly silent, in a way that left no room for pretense.
Fortunately, the other Imperial warships were likely in much the same state. No one would think the flagship had suddenly become a ghost ship.
The megastructure circling the entire planet's orbit looked like a necklace draped around a sun—or a bridge stretching across the stars.
In the troops' holographic displays, they could still make out only a faint, unbroken silver ring, nowhere near enough to capture its full scope. But even so, the shock of something transcending history and dimensions filled their hearts like an unstoppable solar flare.
For a moment, they felt small and insignificant, like ants who'd wandered into the halls of the gods.
The martial Tirero Military Aristocrats were confident—even arrogant—about their nation and civilization. They firmly believed that theirs was the greatest civilization of the current age. But the more certain they were, the more keenly they felt the gulf between them and this wonder. The more they were shaken, the more they were struck with awe—and even fear.
Then three sharp claps broke the silence.
In that instant, the three claps rang through everyone's hearts like thunder, making their very souls tremble. They came back to themselves and looked toward the sound. It was Brunhilde, Queen of Suluca, who had risen from her throne.
She lowered her hands and stood proudly on the steps before her throne, looking down at her troops on the bridge.