151: full penetration

A few days later, a top-level electronic decree pierced through the Angel Empire's already riddled communication network, arriving at the personal terminals of every surviving official, every sector governor, and every leader of the vassal civilizations.

This announcement, written in an unprecedentedly concise style, declared the end of an old era and the beginning of a turbulent new one.

[Imperial Supreme Administrative Announcement:]

[In view of His Majesty Huiguang XII's ill health and inability to fulfill his sacred ruling duties, and in order to ensure the continuity of the Empire and protect the well-being of its billions of citizens, the Imperial Royal Family Council has made an emergency resolution:]

[Effective immediately, His Highness First Prince Mika Radiance shall succeed to the throne and be crowned Emperor of the Angel Empire, with the title Huiguang XIII.]

[Her Highness the Seventeenth Princess, Amira Radiance, is appointed Imperial Prime Minister and Prince Regent, overseeing all military and political affairs of the Empire.]

[All illegal laws, religious edicts, and personnel appointments issued by the traitor Losanda and his accomplices during the 'God's Descent' period are hereby abolished.]

[Effective immediately, the Imperial Parliament is dissolved. All administrative power is returned to the Cabinet, and members of the new Cabinet will be personally selected and appointed by the Prime Minister.]

[The entire Empire enters a state of maximum combat readiness and martial law. Anyone who defies central government orders will be considered a traitor.]

This announcement was like a massive bomb, triggering violent tremors throughout the Perseus Arm.

For those officials in the Imperial core who had witnessed the horrors of the God War, this was an expected transfer of power, the only life-saving straw in a chaotic world.

But for those border officials and vassal civilizations who were far from the capital and already harboring ulterior motives, this announcement was like a signal—a signal that the giant was weak to the point of exhaustion and ready to be torn apart.

In a distant border sector, a governor who controlled three resource systems and a private fleet looked at the message on his terminal, a contemptuous sneer appearing on the corners of his mouth.

"Mika? That weak prince who has never even been to the front lines? And Amira, that wet-behind-the-ears little girl?" He smashed the wine glass in his hand onto the floor. "The Empire's core is rotten! The Star Navy is also finished! They think they can command me?"

"Pass down the order: seize all tax payments and minerals in this sector that were to be handed over to the capital, and expand the fleet! In Orion right now, whoever has the warships is the king!"

Similar scenes played out in every corner of the Empire.

Some governors declared 'autonomy' to wait and see, some vassal civilizations expelled Imperial garrisons and declared independence, and some even flirted directly with the Iof People, attempting to betray their master for personal gain.

A greater storm of fragmentation was brewing... At the center of the storm, on Cradle Star, an extremely simple coronation ceremony was being held in the imperial palace's main hall, which had not yet been fully repaired.

There was no grand spectacle of ten thousand nations paying tribute, nor were there flower petals dancing in the sky or grand psionic salutes.

The palace dome still had massive cracks, through which the energy shield maintained by Faleim Engineering Vessels could be seen.

The hall was empty, with only a few hundred surviving royal family members, loyalist nobles, and low-ranking officers. Everything about the ceremony was simplified; their formal wear was naturally not very elaborate, but at least they were all dressed properly.

Mika Radiance, wearing the emperor's robes that were slightly too large for him, knelt on the steps before the throne.

He knew he wasn't suited for this position; he didn't have his father's charisma or his sister's decisiveness. He was like an actor forced onto the stage, only able to play the role of a symbol named 'Emperor' in this play called 'Imperial Restoration'.

Amira Radiance stood by his side. She wasn't wearing a dress but continued to wear her white-gold battle armor, with three pairs of wings spread behind her, exuding a sharp and powerful aura.

In her hands, she held the Astral Crown, the symbol of the Empire's supreme power. This crown had just been dug out of the ruins, and several psionic gems on it were even missing, making it look somewhat incomplete.

"With this crown, I bestow upon you the right to rule the stars."

Amira's voice was hoarse yet firm, echoing in the empty hall.

She slowly placed the crown on her brother's head.

Mika's body sank slightly, as if the incomplete crown weighed a thousand tons.

"The ceremony is complete! Long live the Emperor!"

The few hundred people below knelt on one knee in a scattered fashion and cheered.

In the shadows of the hall, Major General Trier stood with several Faleim observers, quietly watching everything. The recorder in his hand flickered with a faint light, transmitting this historic scene in real-time back to the Falem Homeworld and Earth.

"A rubber stamp, a strongman, and a riddled empire," Trier evaluated in his mind. "A perfect control model."

After the ceremony ended, Mika practically fled back to the inner palace to care for the demented Retired Emperor, leaving the hot potato of a throne to his sister.

Amira had no time for sentimentality.

She turned and walked into the side hall, which had been converted into a temporary Prime Minister's office.

"Let's begin," she said to the air, sitting behind a desk piled high with documents.

Before her were several floating Faleim holographic operation interfaces.

These were the 'Administrative Support Systems' provided by the Faleim Civilization.

"First item on the agenda: the reconstruction and restoration of order in the capital system, [Celestial Throne]." Amira's finger swiped through the air.

Although she held the title of 'Prime Minister,' she knew very well that the Empire was currently a massive mess.

The original administrative system had been completely paralyzed during Losanda's purge and the subsequent war, with 50% of mid-to-high-level officials dead or missing.

The current Empire was like a giant that had lost its brain and nervous system, possessing a vast body but unable to move.

She had too few people; there weren't enough professional bureaucrats to manage the billions of survivors on this planet—to count resources, distribute food, and restore production.

Her greatest reliance at the moment was the Faleim People.

"General Trier," Amira connected to the observation group, "I need your help. I don't have enough manpower to re-establish an effective administrative network in a short time."

"As you wish, Madam Prime Minister." Trier's holographic image appeared on the desk. "The social management AI [Sanctuary Guardian], specifically customized by the Falaim Scientific Integration Nation for idealistic civilizations, is ready and can take over Cradle Star's civil administration system at any time."

This was a cup of poisoned wine, but Amira had no choice but to drink it.

With Amira's authorization, a massive stream of data instantly surged from the Faleim Engineering Vessels anchored in orbit into Cradle Star's remaining network nodes.

In the days that followed, the survivors on Cradle Star were surprised to find their lives returning to order at an incredible speed.

The originally chaotic food distribution points were taken over by fully armed Faleim robots. These tireless iron lumps did not have the arrogance and greed of Angel officials; they strictly followed the quotas calculated by the AI, distributing synthetic food precisely to the gram.

"Scanning identity... Level 3 civilian. Ration standard: two energy bars, one liter of purified water. Next."

Cold electronic voices replaced the shouting and shoving of the past. Although it lacked a human touch, and many were repulsed by these mechanical monsters, at least everyone could receive their life-saving rations.

The originally paralyzed urban transportation network also began running again under the AI's scheduling.

Although most private psionic speeders were damaged, anti-gravity public transport barges provided by the Faleim began shuttling between various settlements, transporting labor to designated construction sites.

The first thing Amira had to do was clear the ruins and restore a basic living environment.

Under the AI's efficient planning, hundreds of millions of survivors were reorganized.

There was no longer a distinction between nobles and commoners; in the Faleim's algorithm, everyone was a 'labor unit'.

Low-ranking nobles who once lived in luxury were forced to pick up shovels, and clergy members who were once high and mighty were required to carry bricks.

Anyone who tried to resist or slack off would be accurately identified by the AI-controlled drone surveillance network and have their food rations for the day canceled, while those who tried to resist with force would taste the iron fist of Faleim machinery.

This cruel method of near-military management caused many complaints in the early stages, but under the pressure of survival, no large-scale conflicts broke out.

A few months later, Amira stood by her office window, looking down at the city below, which, though still in ruins, was now orderly. Her heart was filled with mixed emotions.

She saw those busy robots on the streets—intelligent humanoid engineering robots provided by the Faleim.

They were repairing Cradle Star's atmospheric circulation system. Massive air purification towers rose from the ground, sucking in the residual radioactive dust and toxic gases from the air, filtering them, and then releasing fresh oxygen.

In the distance, there was also the industrial zone being rebuilt. It was no longer the automated factories centered on psionic simulated personalities (artificial souls) familiar to the Angel people; instead, there were giant modular factories in the Faleim style.

Silver-gray cubic buildings were stacked like blocks, containing fully automated production lines provided by the Faleim.

These 'materialist heretical' creations were unimaginable in the former Angel Empire; they would have been immediately boycotted or ordered destroyed if discovered by the clergy.

But now, only a few insignificant members of the church remained. They were powerless to stop the imperial government's reforms, and truly effective reforms always began with ideological reform.

Trier came behind her at some point and handed her a data pad. "This is just the beginning."

"According to our assessment, the Angel Empire's original administrative structure was not only bloated and inefficient but also full of breeding grounds for corruption. Since the old system has been destroyed, why not just build a new one?"

Trier pointed to the complex tree diagram on the data pad.

"This is the new imperial administrative framework we've designed for you."

"Under this framework, we will abolish most middle-level bureaucratic institutions. The central government will directly manage every community and every factory through a global quantum network."

"All resource allocation, personnel appointments, and judicial rulings will be initially reviewed and suggested by [Sanctuary Guardian], and finally signed into effect by you."

"This will greatly strengthen your centralization of power, allowing your will to be implemented in every corner of the Empire without hindrance."

Amira looked at the framework diagram and felt a chill down her spine.

This was indeed the ultimate centralization, a ruling tool that any monarch would dream of.

But it also meant that the entire Empire's operational logic had been completely replaced. The Angel Empire's administrative system would become a black box: inputs would be commands and resources, outputs would be results, and the processing in between would be entirely in the hands of the Faleim.

"What if... one day you withdraw this system?" Amira turned and stared intently at Trier. "Or, you modify the underlying algorithms?"

Trier gave a slight smile, one that lacked any warmth.

"As long as our friendship endures, such a thing will not happen."

"And Madam Prime Minister, it's not us you should be worried about right now."

Trier tapped his finger, and the holographic map switched to the system level.

"According to the latest intelligence, three of your neighboring sector governors have publicly declared they do not recognize your new government and have formed a so-called National Salvation Alliance. Their vanguard fleets are massing."

"Without our help and this efficient war mobilization system, how will you suppress the rebellion? How will you fight the Iof People?"

This was an open conspiracy.

The Faleim had given her an incredibly sharp sword, but the hilt of that sword was in their hands.

She could use this sword to slay enemies and reclaim lost territory, but she also had to be constantly careful that the sword wouldn't turn against her.

"I understand."

Amira closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, there was only determination.

"Then let's proceed according to this plan."

"As long as it allows the Empire to weather this crisis, I can accept such conditions."

"Very good." Trier nodded with satisfaction. "Additionally, the Great Guide has a special instruction."

"What is it?"

"Regarding religion," Trier said. "The old church has been destroyed, and a vacuum of faith has appeared. the guide believes that simple material satisfaction cannot completely fill the inner void of the people, especially for an idealistic race like yours."

"So?"

"So, you need a new system of faith."

Trier pulled a crystal chip from his breast pocket.

"This is a new doctrine we've compiled based on your history and culture, combined with some... well, more advanced concepts."

"In this doctrine, while faith in the True God is still retained, we explain science as the only way to 'understand the divine will'."

"We define technological progress as the practice of approaching the kingdom of God."

"We define the Great Guide as..." Trier paused, "the guide chosen by God in the mortal world."

"We want to transform your civilization from its ideological roots."

Amira took the chip, its small size carrying a weight that made her hand tremble.

This was to completely transform the Angel people's thinking, turning them from a group of fanatical believers into a group of technology worshipers—even worshipers of the Faleim Civilization—cloaked in religious garb.

"Is this also part of the price?" Amira asked bitterly.

"No," Trier corrected, "this is the direction of evolution."

"Only in this way can you truly integrate into the future interstellar society, rather than being abandoned by the times."

Amira remained silent for a long time, finally clutching the chip tightly in her palm.

"I will implement it."

A new Angel Empire would be born. She would have the appearance of an Angel but the blood of a machine flowing through her, chanting hymns while wielding the sword of science.