Chapter 86
The empire has a strict hierarchy, and even prisons are strictly divided according to their level. The S-level prison is located in the core of the military headquarters, hundreds of meters underground.
"General—"
Along the way, female soldiers saluted Isidore. After several rounds of procedural checks, a series of alloy doors, each weighing several tons, opened. The passage led downwards, and the surroundings remained absolutely quiet, with only the sound of military boots hitting the ground.
The closer you get to the ground, the higher the concentration of pheromones, and the lingering smell of gunpowder makes it seem as if the underground is a battlefield full of bloodshed and slaughter, making insects tremble with fear.
Until a piercing electrical hum echoed in the darkness.
Isidore's military boots paused, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace. This was a vast underground space, shrouded in absolute darkness. The surrounding detection systems worked day and night to monitor this terrifyingly powerful female insect.
The unretractable bone wings occupied most of the space, and the body covered in insect armor had a ferocious appearance similar to that of a star beast. Upon hearing the sound, the female insect slowly raised her head, revealing her cold and emotionless eyes.
It was the feeling of being watched by a hunter, constantly on the verge of being hunted down. Isidor felt a tightness in his throat. Gust had already strode forward: "Marshal—"
He called out in a low, urgent voice.
The inhibitory circulation around Celt's neck swirls with silver light. Whenever the female insect loses control to a certain critical point, it will spontaneously activate an electric current to keep her conscious. The shackles and the wounds from her loss of control that had scabbed over were torn open again.
His cold, snow-covered eyes calmed down, and he slowly leaned back, looking less like a prisoner and more like a superior.
Of course, neither Isidore nor Gust noticed anything amiss.
Isn't this just the way things should be? It actually puts their minds at ease.
"Marshal, Hesen's attack has not yet been classified as an attack on a male insect..." Isidor briefly reported the situation outside, and then said, "Currently, Hesen has completely gathered control of the star system near Z31. I will go to the front line as commander in an hour."
He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something but then stopped. This time, he would not be fighting as the marshal's adjutant; he would be fighting for Sirius, representing the Queen Consort.
He looked at Celt's half-insect body and took a deep breath: "Marshal, this time, I will go all out."
I will no longer be like I was in the past, lacking even the courage to face everything.
Celt nodded slightly without saying anything more, but Isidore had gotten what he wanted. He bowed deeply to Celt, then turned and left to go to his own battlefield.
Although he had once been the Marshal's adjutant, he now belonged to His Highness Sirius, whose true confidant was Major General Gust.
"Your charges are currently being compiled by the Imperial Council, with assistance from the Male Insect Protection Association. However, since Isidor has taken over your duties, a formal verdict will not be handed down without the permission of the military."
"Regarding research, since you sent Dick to the border planet ahead of time, his situation isn't too bad—the Empire needs time to analyze the research, so should we take the initiative in advance—"
“No need.” The female insect’s voice was particularly hoarse, which made Gust’s heart ache.
He gritted his teeth: "Yes, is there anything you need?"
Although he no longer knew what else the dark and sunless prison could possibly offer.
Celtic paused for a moment, then looked up and said, "Yes."
The account information of the male insect was compiled into a document and sent to this tight prison.
Everything in this account was once a genuine expression of Hilgard's heart, accompanying him from his innocent adolescence to his adulthood.
It was also used as a weight on the scales of choice, tempting Celtic to choose Hilgard.
Of course, only Hill, who was determined to get revenge on Celt, would think that way.
Hill was adorable as a teenager, and he remains so as an adult; his love and hate are clearly visible, without any impurities.
Fourteen-year-old Hill began to emerge from the glass house; the safety cabin designed for his protection was merely a cage for him. As he first walked in the garden, Celtic was promoted to marshal for his outstanding achievements.
He spent three months in the garden painting a portrait of Marshal Celt, meticulously crafting every line. Because of his sensitive status, he never showed his face; the photographs only revealed his slender wrist, stained with the gray of charcoal.
He said, "I always felt that the Marshal should not be depicted in any color. The Marshal is suitable for plain lines and gray-white, perhaps because the Marshal is too austere."
Ruthless, cold-blooded, and needing no embellishment.
At the age of fifteen, Hilgard's doctors disagreed on his condition.
His body is too weak, not like someone destined for a long life. He needs to take a big gamble, betting that he can successfully advance to the next level.
Another doctor suggested preserving his mind while completely replacing his body with a machine. This would result in the loss of many things, including pheromones, but it would allow him to survive.
The insects also had a heated argument. Grayson was a staunch supporter of the transformation theory, while Nathaniel objected, simply because he felt it wouldn't work.
Ultimately, the choice fell to Hilgard himself, and after a moment's hesitation, he decided to take a gamble.
He's already fifteen years old, and in two more years he'll be able to hug Marshal Celt. The Marshal will need male insect pheromones.
He loved being embraced by the Marshal, like being in the primeval forest of Nuka Star, where a heavy snow was falling and the wind was so cold, yet his limbs were held tightly by the Marshal, and his heart was carefully preserved.
Of course, these private thoughts are only visible to himself, and Gust only learned about them by using his access privileges.
At sixteen, Hilgard began surgery, not to modify but to improve his physical condition so that he could enter the second stage of advancement in the best possible state.
This process took a full year.
His body was opened countless times, allowing sophisticated instruments and mechanical insects to enter his blood vessels and muscles, prolonging his life and opening up his future.
It hurt a lot, but he could bear it.
He wasn't enduring for the sake of an unknown future; he had an insect he longed to see, a reason for his heart to beat—a powerful female insect lived within it.
Marshal Celtic said his wish was for me to be safe, and I will try my best to walk safely to him.
At seventeen, he calmly completed his last surgery and woke up safely.
The first night after he woke up was extremely painful; his body trembled with pain, and even breathing became difficult. He placed the gifts from Marshal Celtic that his brothers had given him on the bed, and they surrounded him with them.
Clutching the marshal's uniform tightly in his arms, he had a sweet dream in which the marshal comforted and kissed him. He didn't know whether he was crying tears of pain or happiness. When he woke up the next day, he found that the hem of the uniform was soaked.
His body was finally approaching adulthood, allowing him to get close to Marshal Celtic.
He watched all of the marshal's combat videos, meeting videos, public appearances, and even some private meetings.
The marshal had praised Sirius's blond hair. Although it was unclear whether it was out of politeness, little Hill touched his own silver hair and felt a little annoyed that he was the only one who had inherited his father's hair color.
He changed his hair color.
The marshal had several different colored uniforms, which were generally understated and deep, and he never showed any particular preference. However, the supplies he donated to the orphanage, bearing his name, were emerald green, suggesting that he preferred emerald green.
He changed the color of his eyes again.
He deceived his parents and brothers, and led Bright to the vast universe beyond countless star systems. He nervously boarded a starship and offered himself to Marshal Celtic.
The last one was actually a private anniversary he celebrated. He commemorated every day he met Marshal Celtic, from his youthful days until the year he was drawn to the flame like a moth to a flame.
I know the Marshal doesn't like anniversaries, but I hope to be with him every year from now on.
The final year was 1865, the 1865th day since I met Marshal Celtic.
The moth flew into the flames and was mercilessly burned to ashes.
Such burning love can melt even the coldest ice.
He fell in love with the flying insect after it died.
——
"General, it really is Isidore who has arrived." Brandon rushed over.
“Isidore came from a poor family and was able to enter the military academy after receiving financial assistance from Celt in his early years to treat his illness. Because of his long-term illness, although he was of good rank, he was a worrier and hesitant person. He was an insect that obeyed orders but was not capable of shouldering heavy responsibilities.”
Hessen knew Isidor's information by heart, and a sarcastic smile appeared on his lips: "Isidor is too cautious by nature. He is destined to fail if we use a surprise attack."
"Where is Celtic?"
"Marshal Celt is currently in custody. The Empire is reviewing his conviction, and there are rumors that he has been corrupted by insects and it will be difficult for him to get out." Brandon shook his head, not believing that Celt would have any chance of being released.
"After all, he offended Hilgard."
“But you never know what might happen for the sake of power.” Hesen pondered for a moment, then suddenly seemed to remember something and abruptly turned on the battle recording. It was footage of a battle on Nuka Star, where Wilson was fighting Celt.
He zoomed in on the footage bit by bit and quickly found the replay, showing what Wilson, the insect, had said to mock Celtic.
He used a robotic insect to simulate the process and quickly found the corresponding words.
Nourish the stomach —
Wilson was talking about nourishing the stomach.
Hessen checked it for the third time, initially showing a hint of doubt and uncertainty, but then finally revealing a hint of ecstasy.
"Hilgard?! Immediately go and analyze what Wilson left behind, focusing on the stomach disability."
With a direction in mind, the cracking process naturally sped up. After a long and anxious wait, a video finally started loading slowly.
The video stuttered at first, and only sound could be heard: a raging storm with some ambiguous sounds that the Zerg were very familiar with.
The intimate posture, then the gaze slowly moved upwards, revealing a handsome face with a slender jaw and clear, watery eyes.
The male insect tilted its head slightly, its open laughter making its face appear even more alluring, almost bewitching: "I just can't achieve the insect path? What should I do? Hmm? Are you scared? Or are you disappointed?"
His pale lips uttered a shocking statement: "Are you scared already? Didn't you say you loved me?"
Shouldn't loving an insect mean loving it wholeheartedly and without regard for anything else, regardless of its status, health, or disability, and giving it your all?
Hessen's eyes flashed with a sharp light: "Although that old man Wilson was useless and died too quickly, he at least left some things behind. Publish these on the StarNet as quickly as possible."
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