"...Then, come with me to inspect the army. The upcoming War of Unification will demand much of you both."
As she spoke, Selene gestured for Sebas to arrange her hair and place the crown back upon her head.
"Your Majesty, it is already quite late... might it not be better to conduct the inspection tomorrow at dawn?" Budo asked hesitantly as Sebas deftly combed Selene's long white hair.
"What's this? Are you worried your Second Imperial Guard Legion isn't prepared?" Selene teased with a faint smile.
That's right—after Selene's coronation, Budo's former First Imperial Guard Legion had been officially renumbered. By Selene's decree, its position was shifted down one rank.
Its replacement? Kinshasa's Astartes Legion—now formally designated as the First Imperial Guard Legion, or simply, the Royal Guard.
Budo's current command, the Second Imperial Guard Legion, was tasked with defending the Imperial Palace itself.
At her words, Budo immediately dropped to one knee and said earnestly, "The Second Imperial Guard Legion stands ready to receive Your Majesty's inspection at any time... but, this late hour—would it not disturb Your Majesty's rest?"
"It's fine."
With a wave of her hand, Selene adjusted the crown upon her head and approached Budo. The long train of her gown trailed behind her, glittering like a river of stars woven with golden threads.
"Don't mistake me for him," she said lightly, patting his shoulder guard. "I am not so fragile. Ceremonies have their place—but not like this. Pointless rituals and tedious formalities? Abolish them. Oh, and that nonsense about 'auspicious hours'—that ends now."
The so-called auspicious hour custom had existed for ages. Every imperial monarchy—east or west—shared some version of it.
In essence, it was meant to demonstrate the emperor's magnanimity. While the ruler's schedule for handling state affairs was fixed, those who missed their appointed time could only present petitions if the emperor graciously allowed it. Such gestures were touted as acts of benevolence.
During Honest's reign, however, the practice had been twisted beyond recognition. The time for audiences was drastically shortened, and the Young Emperor lacked the authority to change it.
This was one of Honest's many restrictions—by limiting the Young Emperor's access to information, he effectively controlled both palace and court. Every document and report was filtered and edited before reaching the throne.
And Budo... was genuinely, almost painfully loyal. Even now, reborn under Selene's rule, he still adhered to those obsolete traditions. Unless explicitly ordered otherwise, he followed the old Emperor's regulations to the letter.
Well, that was precisely why Selene had saved him—his loyalty was both his greatest flaw and his greatest virtue.
"From now on," Selene said softly, "if there's urgent news, come to me directly—or tell Sebas. No need to wait for 'permission.'"
With a slight lift of her hand, she gestured for Budo to rise before turning and striding out of the domed hall.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
...
Crackle—crackle—crackle...
Outside, the fireworks still illuminated the night sky above the Imperial Capital. Though darkness had fallen, the city pulsed with life and energy.
The wide streets were crowded with people dressed in colorful attire, laughter echoing through the air. From above, the capital's blocks glowed like a flowing river of color and light.
Everywhere, citizens danced and sang praises to Empress Selene, rejoicing in the dawn of a new era.
But for one man—newly conscripted into the Imperial Guard—such joy felt distant and hollow.
At the Imperial Guard's garrison in the Upper City—a quiet zone untouched by celebration—the streets were empty. The reason was simple: the Imperial Execution Grounds were nearby.
"AAAAAAHHHH!!!"
The source of the Empire's past corruption, former Minister Honest, had already been torn apart by the furious mob to whom Selene had delivered him.
And as for his son, Syura—there was no escape from justice. Though he had not been ripped apart like his father, his fate was scarcely better.
Syura had been sentenced... to death by a thousand cuts.
Because of the Empress' coronation and the ensuing celebrations, the Imperial Guard barracks were holding festivities to reward the troops. Apart from a few unlucky officers assigned to night patrols, who cursed their bad fortune while leading their squads through the streets to maintain order, the rest of the soldiers relaxed in groups, enjoying a rare moment of ease.
"That one's still alive? It's been three days, and he's still screaming... I swear there's barely any flesh left on him," one soldier muttered, holding a fruit drink in one hand and grilled meat in the other. "How can anyone endure that?"
"Of course he can. He's Honest's son, after all. Heard he's a tough one. Makes sense he'd last this long," another replied.
"Yeah, that bastard Honest... huh? Hey, Tatsumi, what's with you? You've been staring off into space ever since we finished patrol."
Sitting quietly beside them, Tatsumi—short brown hair, clad in standard-issue Imperial Guard armor—slowly lifted his head, worry clouding his face. "It's nothing... I just saw two of my old friends. From my village."
"Oh? That's a good thing, isn't it? You said they joined the army too, right?"
The squad leader clapped Tatsumi on the back, laughing. "Next recruitment round, get them into our unit! You've bragged enough about how strong they are. Passing the new soldier tests should be easy for them."
"But... squad leader... they joined Night Raid," Tatsumi said blankly.
Under Selene's influence, events had changed. Tatsumi, Sayo, and Ieyasu had escaped the tragedy that claimed their lives in the original timeline. Yet fate remained cruel.
In this altered world, Ieyasu and Sayo had joined Night Raid—while Tatsumi had enlisted in Selene's Imperial Guard.
Just a few days prior, during patrol, Tatsumi's unit had passed by the execution grounds. There, he had seen a squad of soldiers clad in black power armor escorting captured rebels from the outskirts of the capital.
And in that brief moment—Tatsumi saw them. Ieyasu and Sayo.
His childhood companions—friends who had sworn to rise together, to save their impoverished village—now marched in chains, beaten and bloodied, toward their deaths.
Their eyes met for a fleeting instant. Tatsumi, dressed in the black uniform of the Imperial Guard, froze in place. And across from him, Ieyasu and Sayo, bound in shackles, met his gaze in silence—no hatred, no anger, just bitter resignation.
That haunting image clung to Tatsumi's mind long after, even as he followed his unit back to the barracks in a daze.
"Night Raid... you're saying your friends were part of that?" the squad leader repeated, stunned. The roasted meat in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. "That's... not good, Tatsumi. If that's true, you might get dragged into this mess too."
Suddenly—
"What's this about Night Raid?"
A burly man in an officer's uniform approached. The soldiers snapped to attention.
Clack!
The squad leader and Tatsumi both stood straight, saluting. "Report, Captain! It's about Tatsumi, sir. Two of his friends from his home village—apparently they were captured for being in Night Raid."
"Tatsumi's friends, captured?" The captain frowned. Fortunately, this was Selene's Imperial Guard—if it had been any other garrison, such a confession might have led to Tatsumi's immediate arrest as a suspected traitor.
Tatsumi was a special case—personally recruited by the Legion Commander. His straightforward nature and youth had earned him favor among the ranks.
The captain sighed. "I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can speak on your behalf. But for now—pull yourself together!"
Turning sharply, the captain raised his voice. "All troops—assemble for formation!!"
The piercing sound of the assembly horn echoed through the barracks. Clang—clang—clang!
The once-quiet camp burst into a flurry of motion as countless soldiers and officers poured out from every direction. Shouts, footsteps, and orders filled the air as the entire Imperial Guard mobilized.
Within moments, ranks were formed in perfect order—soldiers in crisp uniforms, polished armor gleaming under the torchlight, weapons in hand.
Then, the Legion Commander emerged from his office, bellowing, "Her Majesty will personally inspect the army tonight! I want every man standing tall! Show her your strength—your discipline! Do you understand?!"
"Yes, sir!" the soldiers roared in unison.
...
Time passed, and on the elevated causeway leading directly to the palace gates, a resplendent figure appeared—surrounded by hundreds of golden-armored guards.
Selene, accompanied by Budo, Kinshasa, and the commanders of the Imperial Guard Legions, walked gracefully down the steps.
Two sentries, standing at attention in their immaculate uniforms and silver-trimmed armor, froze as they caught sight of her.
"Y-Your Majesty! Long live the Empress!" one of them shouted, his voice trembling with awe before dropping to one knee in reverence.
Selene smiled faintly, her crimson eyes softening. She studied the young guard briefly before raising her hand in a gentle motion. "At ease. Do well."
"Y-yes, Your Majesty!" the soldier stammered, his face flushed with emotion.
And as Selene, followed by her entourage, entered the Upper City garrison, the entire base fell into breathless silence.
Then, before anyone could react, one young Imperial Guard broke formation—running straight toward her.
"Your Majesty! Please—!"