Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 345 The Key to Reaching the Stars

The world fell into an eerie silence.

On the surface, some people on the internet are still clamoring for the Eastern superpower to disclose the formula for the rejuvenation potion, and some politicians are even making outrageous statements on television programs, saying they want to teach the "Eastern threat" a lesson.

However, the governments, mainstream media, and think tanks that truly hold the power of discourse have all maintained an unsettling silence.

At the regular meetings of the UN Security Council, the usual heated debates were nowhere to be seen; at the White House press conference, the spokesperson unusually avoided all sensitive topics involving the major Eastern power.

Even the usually noisy Western mainstream media have suddenly learned what it means to "be cautious in their words and actions"—all provocative headlines and comments have disappeared without a trace.

This silence is not submission, but a tacit understanding.

Like the calm before a storm, or the solemn silence of courtiers awaiting a new king's ascension to the throne.

Political leaders from various countries are cautiously observing and waiting for the Eastern queen, who already possesses absolute power but has not yet formally declared her hegemony, to issue her first "royal decree."

If I don't speak first when spring comes, which insect will dare to utter a sound?
This joke, which circulated on the Eastern internet, has now become a true reflection of international politics.

Faced with a military force capable of deploying paratroopers from low Earth orbit at any time and using spaceplanes to deploy to any corner of the world within two hours, any rational politician knows that rash actions will only bring disgrace upon themselves.

The United States, once the world's superpower, is now facing an unprecedented strategic dilemma.

The once-proud aircraft carrier fleet is now struggling to even assemble a complete formation to carry out combat readiness missions.

That superpower that could easily deploy five or six aircraft carriers at other people's doorsteps is now struggling to even maintain its presence in its own backyard.

In a top-secret conference room at the Pentagon, staff officers stared blankly at the silver-white spaceplane in the satellite image.

They know better than anyone that when the fighter jets of the major Eastern power can reach any target in the world within two hours, the so-called "global rapid strike system" has become a joke.

What's even more frightening is that they can't even be sure how many similar "black technologies" the other party is hiding.

The wheels of history rolled on silently.

There was no declaration of war, no manifesto, and not even a formal power transfer ceremony.

But when the spaceplane completed its round-the-world flight and landed steadily on the runway, everyone knew in their hearts that an old era had ended and a new era had begun.

The world at this moment is like the silence when the lights dim in a theater.

The audience held their breath, waiting for the new protagonist to deliver his first line on stage.

The figure standing in the center of the stage remained silent, as if savoring the most moving tranquility of this power transition.
-
The afternoon sun shone through the gaps in the sycamore leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground in the sanatorium's courtyard.

Chen Xi leaned back in the wicker chair, squinting, playing with a falling leaf in her hand, her whole body bathed in the warm sunshine.

“You’re young, so you’re probably more familiar with the thoughts of young people.” The old man beside him took a sip of tea, spat a few tea leaves that had gotten on his lips, and then asked Chen Xi, “I’d like to hear what you would do if you were in that situation, given the current international climate.”

Chen Xi stretched lazily, sunlight dancing on his young face. A half-smile played on his lips: "Didn't the higher-ups already have the direction? Why ask a nobody like me?"

"Hey, you rascal!" the old man chuckled, scolding in a Sichuan-Chongqing accent, "Our country is a people's democratic dictatorship; the people's will is the will of the state. Besides, we're just chatting and bragging, don't be so serious!"

His wrinkled eyes relaxed, making him look just like those old tea drinkers in his hometown teahouse who loved to chat.

Chen Xi did not answer immediately.

He looked up, his gaze piercing through the gaps in the leaves, landing on the azure sky.

The sunlight gilded his face, and a gentle breeze carried the faint fragrance of osmanthus blossoms from afar.

“Old man,” he finally spoke, his voice so soft it was almost a soliloquy, “you know, half a century ago, during the golden age when humanity had just ended the Cold War, what were people’s most beautiful dreams for the 21st century when they looked up at the sky?”

The old man put down his teacup, and his gaze became distant.

He seemed to see that hopeful era, with Star Trek playing on television, newspapers reporting on the Apollo program's feats, and every child dreaming of becoming an astronaut.

"Isn't it that humans will be able to migrate to outer space in the 21st century?" the old man said softly, a hint of reminiscence and longing on his face. "In your young people's words, it's... heading towards the stars and the sea?"

Chen Xi suddenly smiled.

He stood up and patted off non-existent dust from his backside.

“Since our goal is the stars and the sea,” he said, turning around and the sunlight outlining a golden silhouette behind him, “why not go? We’ve already given you the key, haven’t we?”

After saying that, he casually waved his hand, said "See you later," and walked briskly towards the courtyard gate.

His figure quickly disappeared into the ivy-covered archway, leaving the old man sitting there thoughtfully.

The sun was still warm, and the breeze was still gentle.

However, on the rattan chair where Chen Xi had just sat, there was an inconspicuous plastic bag that had appeared out of nowhere.
-
"Chatting with this kind of old man is really stressful. Pretending to be cool is more tiring than commanding a war." Chen Xi rolled his eyes at his reflection in the rearview mirror as he turned the steering wheel.

As he rubbed the steering wheel, he muttered to himself, "If you still can't reach for the stars after getting the Averus shuttle and the Thunderhawk transport, then I'm really going to get a Sword-class ship for orbital bombardment. It's too damn embarrassing."

However, Chen Xi knew in his heart that he would not actually summon a Sword-class frigate to carry out orbital bombardment—not because he was concerned about international influence or moral constraints, but simply because the orbital bombardment efficiency of the Sword-class was too low.

The Sword-class is just a frigate. Although it can perform orbital bombardment, it is inevitably less efficient compared to the Moon-class or larger warships.

When the Rostov Expeditionary Force was conducting orbital bombardment, Chen Xi usually used Luna-class ships for bombardment, or used multiple light cruisers to make up for the lack of firepower through sheer numbers.

As the car entered the underground parking garage, Chen Xi turned off the engine and leaned back in her seat, recalling the conversation from earlier.

He could clearly see the expectation and ambition in the old man's eyes. Now humanity finally had the technological key to reach the stars; the rest was up to them to make their own choices.

(End of this chapter)