The knuckles of the gauntlets were reinforced with sharpened, spiked plating, designed to cave in skulls and armor alike.
The fingers ended in retractable nails, curved and razor sharp, built for tearing through flesh, fabric, and steel with equal ease.
A grappling hook was embedded within the left forearm, capable of launching out with pinpoint accuracy perfect for rapid traversal or yanking an enemy straight into our waiting fists.
The knee plates were jagged, serrated, ready to impale anything unfortunate enough to be caught in a well placed strike.
And finally, the armored backs housed the fission reactors, encased in reinforced plating, their design sleek yet brutally efficient.
The exoskeleton's servomotors and hydraulic muscle amplifiers were seamlessly integrated, promising unparalleled power and endurance.
It was war given form. Pure, undiluted, masculine perfection.
The room was silent, each of us taking in the sight before us. Then, one of my men let out a low whistle.
"…Imperator,"
He muttered.
"This is the ultimate man's romance armor."
I grinned.
"Oh, you haven't even put it on yet."
We didn't waste time. Within minutes, we suited up by first putting on the black undersuit that looked liked muscles without skin, the armor locking into place with a series of mechanical hisses and magnetic latches.
The moment the exoskeleton engaged, my HUD flickered to life, displaying real time tactical readouts just like our views HUDs, movement calibration, and environmental scanning.
I flexed my fingers, feeling the exoskeleton synchronize with my movements like a second skin. Every motion was effortless, the servomotors compensating perfectly, the weight distribution seamless.
I turned to my death squad, watching as each of them adjusted to their new forms. Zero One clenched his fists, his armored gauntlets flexing.
"Feels like I was born in this."
Another death quad trooper zero three rolled his shoulders, grinning beneath his skull faced helmet.
"I feel like I could rip a man in half."
"Well you can,"
I said.
"And soon, you will."
The room filled with low, predatory chuckles.
...
1936 MAY 1, 06:00
The city of Nova Roma stirred from its slumber. The golden glow of dawn crept over the horizon, casting long shadows across the rooftops. The streets, once silent save for the occasional patrol, began to fill with the sounds of daily life.
Mothers lit their stoves, the rich aroma of baking bread and boiling porridge seeping through windows shutters.
Fathers roused their children, nudging them awake with soft murmurs. In the field camps just outside teutonica border, young recruits stretched and rubbed the sleep from their eyes, reaching for their uniforms and rifles.
Mechanics wiped the grease from their fingers as they prepared the morning's work, and vendors rolled up their stalls, readying their wares for the bustling day ahead.
Then, a crackle. A low hum. And the city paused.
Radios flickered to life, static filling the air before being replaced by a crisp, authoritative voice. Loudspeakers, installed in every town square, on every street corner, in every field camp, echoed across the nation.
"Attention, citizens. This is a pre recorded broadcast."
A silence followed, thick with anticipation. Men and women turned to their radios, ceasing their morning routines.
Legioneers, some halfway through lacing their boots, froze. Pilots, already seated in the cockpits of their transport planes and fighter biplanes on the way to their targets, leaned forward. Then, his voice came.
"As of today, May 1st, 06:00… we are officially at war with the Teutonica Ducatum."
A stillness overtook the nation. The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, seeping into the hearts of every listener.
In homes, families exchanged glances, mothers clutching their children a little tighter. In field camps, legioneers gripped their rifles, jaws clenched. Mechanics, engineers, merchants, workers all froze, ears straining to absorb every syllable. The voice continued, tinged with sorrow.
"This is not a choice I have made lightly."
The weight behind those words carried a solemnity, a carefully woven tapestry of regret and resolve.
"For weeks, the Teutonica Ducatum has been amassing troops on our border, their soldiers digging into position, their artillery ready to fire. We have pleaded for peace. We have extended our hands in diplomacy. And yet, they have answered us with silence."
A moment of quiet. Then, the voice hardened.
"We did not seek this war. But make no mistake we will finish it."
A murmur swept through the listening crowd. In the field camps, legioneers sat up straighter. In the factories, workers exchanged knowing looks, their hands tightening into fists. In the planes, pilots checked their instruments, anticipation building in their veins.
"To every Legionnaire standing in their field tents, to every armored cohort prepared to strike, to every paratrooper waiting for the drop signal, to every pilot soaring above our skies, to every citizen forging our weapons and fortifying our supply lines hear me now."
The air was electric.
"We are the sons of Dzeus himself! We are the daughters of Hera herself! We are the heirs to an unbroken lineage of steel, fire, and blood! And today, the world will remember who we are."
A roar erupted across the nation. In the field camps, legionnaires slammed their fists against their chests in salute.
In the air, pilots grinned, gripping their controls tighter. In the armored cohorts, panzer crews pounded their hatches, their adrenaline surging. The voice of the Imperator grew sharper, cutting through the morning like a blade.
"The enemy believes they can stand against us. They believe they can hold their lines, that their walls will keep them safe. They are wrong. We will hit them like a thunderstorm, we will break them like brittle glass, we will burn their banners from the sky! We do not stop! We do not falter! WE DO NOT YIELD!"
The roar became a battle cry. The streets of Nova Roma trembled with the voices of thousands. Legionnaires raised their rifles, pilots threw their fists into the air, panzer crews revved their engines.
"Remember this day! Remember this hour! Remember this moment! History will write of our deeds, and when they do, they will say one thing and one thing alone, THE IMPERIUM HAS BEEN REBORN!"
The broadcast cut out. Silence reigned for a single heartbeat. Then, the nation erupted.
Men donned their helmets. Panzer crews climbed into their tanks. Paratroopers adjusted their parachutes.
Engineers rushed to prepare vehicles, workers toiled to arm the war machine. The Imperium had declared war. And every soul within its borders was ready to answer the call. The storm had begun.
...
The Grand Duke of Teutonica groaned as the harsh rays of morning sunlight pierced through the lavish silk curtains of his bedchamber.
His head throbbed with the remnants of last night's indulgences, wine, laughter, and the warmth of too many women in his bed. He barely stirred, too content in his half drunken slumber.
Then, the doors to his chamber were slammed open with such force that the massive oak panels shuddered on their hinges.
"YOUR GRACE! WAR! WAR! THAT MADMAN HAS DECLARED WAR!"
The Grand Duke jolted awake, his bleary eyes struggling to focus. A mess of tangled sheets and soft, bare limbs surrounded him, the women from the night before stirring, some groaning in protest at the disturbance.
He blinked at the intruder a man in a formal, albeit disheveled, uniform, his face pale with panic. It took him a moment to recognize the Prime Minister.
"What in the name of the g*ds..."
The Duke slurred, rubbing his temples as he sat up, the sheets pooling around his ample, slightly bloated form.
"Why are you barging into my chambers at this ung*dly hour?!"
The Prime Minister did not bow, nor did he apologize for the intrusion. He had had enough. Enough of the late nights, enough of the drinking, enough of the Grand Duke's complete lack of awareness while the Imperator built a war machine right on their doorstep.
"Why wasn't I informed?!"
The Grand Duke bellowed, his face going red as he struggled to shake off his hangover.
"Why am I only hearing of this now?!"
The Prime Minister's hands clenched into fists at his sides as his face twisted in pure frustration.
"We DID inform you!"
He shouted, his patience finally snapping. The Grand Duke flinched, the Prime Minister had never dared to raise his voice before.
"Days ago! Our ambassador sent warnings! He begged you to act! He begged you to mobilize! But YOU..."
He jabbed a finger toward the stunned Duke, his voice laced with barely restrained fury.
"...were too BUSY drinking yourself to death and chasing p*ssy!"
The room fell into dead silence. The women, now fully awake, exchanged nervous glances, instinctively pulling the silk sheets tighter around themselves.
The Grand Duke sat there, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
The Prime Minister took a deep breath, forcing his expression into something more composed, though the disgust in his eyes remained.
"You have doomed us,"
He said flatly, voice like ice.