Solar System Defense Line, Pluto Defense Zone.
Orbital weapons platforms hung above the celestial body in a dense spread, countless orbital cannons and lance arrays standing ready to fire.
Patrolling defense fleets continued their usual sweeps through the void, searching for any suspicious presence. They were the eyes cast out by the Solar System Defense Line.
The scanning arrays could detect the faintest optical signals and force-field disturbances. Only the Cogitators in the rear could fully process such astronomical volumes of data, analyze them for suspicious traces, and report them to the senior commanders.
This stringent state of alert had lasted for years. The human soldiers stationed in this defense zone repeated their duties day after day, awaiting the day their fated enemy arrived.
At that moment, the supreme commander of the Pluto Defense Zone, Sigismund, the Black Knight of the Imperial Fists, was leading his personal guard on an inspection of the frontmost positions.
This most renowned Son of Dorn, the Emperor's Champion, now wore an extremely simple bald look. During the Great Crusade, Sigismund had still possessed a handsome head of short golden hair.
The long years of war had failed to take his life, yet they had taken his hair. It was hard not to feel a little wistful about that.
Sigismund's heavy power boots struck the solid ceramite floor with dull footsteps. He wore a finely crafted Artificer-pattern suit of power armor, which granted him the strongest protection without compromising his remarkable speed and agility.
The famed Black Sword hung at his waist, ready at any moment to activate its field and take an enemy's head.
The silent Emperor's Champion randomly selected a battlefield fortress and entered it with his guard. With the critical eye of a Son of Dorn, he carefully inspected the fortress's construction