66: Chapter 66 My ancestors taught me that it's better to die standing than to live on your knees.
Yuri slammed the table, cursing loudly: "Tch, you think you're the Emperor's Angel?!"
"Even an Astartes wouldn't dare board a moon-class cruiser alone with a bunch of mortals!"
"What's the difference between this and suicide? If you die, we're all finished!"
He cursed fiercely, but his eyes were filled with unhideable panic.
The meeting room instantly erupted into chaos, everyone's face looking grim.
Fu Haoran raised his hand and gently pressed down.
"Alright, no need to persuade me, everyone."
"I cannot let others go to their deaths for my own selfish desires."
"Are the lives of others not lives too?"
He paused, his gaze sweeping across every face at the conference table.
Ronan, Kaimei, Hock, Wade... all brothers who had crawled out of the Underhive mud pits.
"If I, the Governor, don't even dare to go, what reason do others have to risk their lives?"
Fu Haoran stood up, sweeping the noble impeachment documents off the table with one hand.
The parchment papers stamped with golden crests scattered across the floor, piled at his feet like trash.
His voice suddenly rose, exploding in everyone's hearts like a thunderclap:
"Are kings and nobles born to their ranks?!"
"Those nobles are born to ride on our heads and act like tyrants, why?!"
"When we were just worthless lives in the Underhive, not knowing where our next meal was coming from, being beaten to death at will, they were living in luxury in the Upper Nest, treating human lives like grass!"
He pointed out the window; in the twilight, the lights of the Upper Nest were lighting up one after another, as brilliant as a river of stars.
"Now, since we have a chance to take back what should have been ours, even if we die, we must die on the path of the charge!"
Fu Haoran walked to the door and opened it.
"If anyone wants to back out, you can leave now, I won't blame you."
The meeting room fell into a dead silence.
No one moved.
Suddenly, Wade stood up.
Everyone's eyes fell on him.
He was the highest-ranking officer here; before the rebellion began, he was a field officer who had struggled in the Underhive for over a decade, fighting for this position with his life.
Fu Haoran had given him the chance to stand in the sunlight and no longer have to look at the faces of nobles.
But now, he had another choice.
If he backed out, the nobles likely wouldn't trouble him.
They needed a grassroots officer to do the dirty and tiring work.
Besides, Wade had several children at home; there was no need to take this risk.
Wade walked toward the door.
Fu Haoran looked at him without speaking.
Just when others thought he was leaving, Wade reached back and closed the door.
He turned and gave Fu Haoran a solemn salute, his right fist thumping against his chest.
"My Lord, where you go, I go!"
"Whatever you need us to do, just give the order!"
Ronan was the second to stand up.
Kaimei was the third.
Hock was the fourth; this gray-haired veteran slammed the table directly and roared:
"Governor, I've rotted in the Underhive my whole life! You gave me food to eat and gave my grandson a way to live! This old life of mine is yours!"
One after another.
Everyone stood up, all of them thumping their right fists against their chests.
Finally, Yuri stood up, grumbling.
"Damn it! Count me in!"
He kicked his chair aside, walked up to Fu Haoran, and pointed at his nose:
"If even you aren't afraid of death, why the hell should I, a smuggler, be afraid!"
After cursing, he plopped back into his chair and muttered again: "Anyway, I don't have a family; dying won't be a loss."
"But I'm telling you now, if you dare to die up there, I'll immediately bolt with your armory, and I definitely won't be burying your body."
...
Geosynchronous orbit, moon-class cruiser.
Commodore Valerius Costa sat in the command chair on the bridge, holding a red wine glass, chatting and laughing with the nobles over the communicator.
"That kid Fu Haoran, what does he have to fight me with?"
He sneered and swirled the red wine in his glass, his tone as contemptuous as if he were speaking of an ant.
"That broken ship of his isn't even worthy of being my target practice."
A subordinate asked in a low voice: "My Lord, the banquet... what if he resists?"
"Resist?" Valerius laughed, unrestrainedly.
"I've already arranged thirty Drukhari / Dark Aeldari mercenaries at the banquet; if Fu Haoran dares to move, he'll be killed on the spot."
"Even if he can take the banquet hall, one volley of Macro Cannons will level not just the Governors Mansion, but the surrounding Mid-Hive blocks as well."
"The lives of a bunch of Underhive rats, if they die, they die; it just clears space for me to collect the Tithe."
He took a sip of wine and narrowed his eyes.
"If Fu Haoran is sensible and hands over power obediently, I might spare his miserable life. If not..."
He paused and looked out at the grayish-brown planet.
"With one volley of my Macro Cannons, I'll scatter even his ashes."
...
The meeting ended, and everyone dispersed.
Fu Haoran leaned against the door, raising a hand to rub his brow, leaving only unmaskable exhaustion.
Lucifer reclined on the sofa, holding an iced cola from the 2K World, rarely taking the initiative to speak:
"You are doing something stupid."
Fu Haoran didn't speak.
She put down the glass, her emerald eyes looking at him: "I can take you away; no one can catch up."
Fu Haoran shook his head.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow and didn't say things like 'you can't win' anymore.
She had lived for tens of thousands of years and was accustomed to the life, death, and wars of the galaxy.
Lucifer threw over a data slate; Fu Haoran caught it and glanced at it—it was actually a holographic schematic of the moon-class cruiser, with the bridge, power core, and Void Shield generator locations all clearly marked.
Lucifer leaned back on the sofa and said lazily, "Don't misunderstand, I just don't want to watch my ally die of stupidity."
"If you die up there, I'll have to find someone else to talk to."
Fu Haoran gripped the data slate, a flash of surprise in his eyes.
He didn't speak, turning to open the weapon crate in the corner.
Inside the crate lay a tactical nuclear bomb quietly; it was found on that S.H.I.E.L.D. carrier, the one used to bomb New York in Avengers 1.
Lucifer looked at the nuke, her brow furrowing slightly: "You plan to use this? For a mutual destruction?"
"Yes."
Fu Haoran raised his hand and fixed the nuke onto his exoskeleton Powered Armor.
"If things truly reach a desperate point, I'll use it to blow up the Void Shield generator and take Valerius with me."
"At least it'll blast a path for my brothers."
Lucifer fell silent.
After a long time, she spoke:
"I don't understand."
"Understand what?"
"You could clearly live, yet you insist on choosing the hardest path." Her tone held no mockery, just a statement of fact.
"Once you're dead, everything is gone."
"Lucifer, you don't understand." He turned to look at her, light in his eyes.
"My ancestors used thousands of years to tell me that the humiliation of surrender is harder to bear than death."
"Even a king would rather die for his country than hand over his land."
"So, in our eyes, we'd rather die standing than live kneeling."
His voice wasn't loud, but it pierced the air like a nail.
"You also don't understand the meaning of 'though thousands may oppose me, I shall go forth'."
"I brought my brothers out, so I must bring them back. Even if I can't, I'll take Valerius down with me to secure a way of life for their families."
Lucifer looked at him for a long time.
Finally, she picked up her drink and looked away.
"Suit yourself."
...
Half an hour later, in the operations command room.
Fu Haoran gave an order to Wade: "Have everyone in the boarding party go home once. Six hours. Everyone must report back before sunset."
Wade was stunned, instinctively saying: "My Lord, what if there's a leak..."
"There won't be."
Fu Haoran looked out the window; the lights of the Mid-Hive were already flickering on like stars. "They know what this battle means. And..."
He paused, his tone carrying a trace of unnoticeable softness, "Letting them see their families one last time is the only thing I can do for them now."
Wade's Adam's apple bobbed; he gave a military salute and turned to carry out the order.
As the order was passed down, the entire barracks went silent for a few seconds, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.
Three thousand assault team members—no one spoke, everyone silently packed their things, and in pairs, they walked toward their homes.
No one spoke, but everyone knew in their hearts that this was likely the last time they would see their families.