Chapter 467: Home and Reunion – I Have a Younger Brother

Clang!

The military-designated rail train finally arrived at the Astartes Salamanders’ Conquered World-Eleven, Sector Eleven, Tokyo Geo-Orbital Elevator Terminal. The long-awaited station personnel, patrol droids, and AI assistants swiftly moved across the platform to meet it.

Spotlights shone from all directions, illuminating the spacious terminal. Announcements echoed repeatedly across the station, broadcasting the arrival of the Eleventh Auxiliary Legion’s homecoming train in an inorganic electronic tone.

Screeech—

Thud, thud, thud!

As the train’s doors hissed open, a synchronized wave of heavy military boots stepped onto the platform. The soldiers of the Eleventh Auxiliary Legion under the Astartes Salamanders disembarked in pristine uniforms, carrying only basic arms. Not a single unnecessary sound was made; their movements were crisp and disciplined.

Even though their families waited just beyond the station’s boundaries, eager to embrace them after years of separation, not a single soldier broke formation. No matter how much they longed to see their loved ones, military law was absolute—until formal dismissal orders were given, they remained in strict formation, unwavering.

The Imperial Auxiliary Forces did not command the towering war machines of the Imperial Navy, nor did they possess the superhuman strength of the Astartes.

Their pay and benefits were nowhere near comparable to those of the Adeptus Astartes. Compared to the Imperial Guard, they were often treated like neglected stepchildren.

The Imperial Guard was directly controlled by the Empire’s central military administration—uniform training, standardized equipment, cohesive unit structures, and equal treatment. In contrast, the Auxiliary Legions were under the jurisdiction of individual Astartes Legions, their gear and uniforms varying wildly depending on how much their parent Legion cared to invest in them. Some received aid from Forge Worlds, while others relied on local industry.

Yet despite these disparities, the Auxiliary Forces stood as equals among the Astartes Legions, Imperial Guard, and the Imperial Navy, not because of superior equipment or training—but because of discipline. Absolute discipline.

Orders were orders. Military law was ironclad. Submissions for grievances could be filed through proper channels, but any soldier foolish enough to openly challenge a superior officer? A bullet or a blade would be the least of their concerns. Those hot-blooded defiance arcs seen in Neon’s light novels, shounen manga, and melodramatic military soap operas? Here, such outbursts were met with a swift and brutal response.

One word: punishment.

The severity depended on the commanding officer. A lenient superior might issue confinement, flogging, or caning. A stricter officer might simply execute the offender on the spot.

From each car, soldiers in uniform streamed out like rivers converging into the ocean, seamlessly merging into their respective formations. Within moments, their ranks aligned with mechanical precision. Across the expansive station halls, they moved in unison—shoulder to shoulder, synchronized footsteps echoing through the vast space.

Beyond the platform, towering granite columns supported a vast dome of glass and alloyed steel. The spacious waiting hall was packed with a sea of people.

Banners of victory hung beneath grand relief carvings, while the massive statue of a Salamanders warrior, hammer in hand, stood in solemn watch over the crowd. Families gathered beneath its gaze—parents waiting for their children, wives waiting for their husbands, younger siblings waiting for their brothers.

“Hey, Mom… do you think big brother will still recognize us? Will he still be the same? Or… will he have changed completely? They say that after… after killing, after experiencing war, soldiers can suffer from stress disorders and—”

Holding up a sign with “Hikigaya” written on it, a lively high school girl stood waiting. Her youthful skin radiated energy, her bright black eyes gleamed with excitement, and her soft pink lips formed an occasional pout. Her neatly cut black hair, styled at medium length, framed her delicate face—no matter how one looked at her, she was undeniably adorable, brimming with vitality.

But at this moment, a trace of nervousness flickered in her expression.

“Honestly, what was big brother even thinking? Going on about fulfilling some ultimate male dream, then suddenly enlisting? And he actually passed on his first try… wasn’t he still in high school at the time?”

“Haha, so you are worried about your brother, Komachi. You always tease and mock him, but here you are, waiting for him today,” said Mrs. Hikigaya with a gentle smile. Like her daughter, she had black hair and dark eyes, along with the signature Hikigaya family ahoge. Her black-rimmed glasses lent her an air of composed dignity.

“Ha?! If he dares ignore his own mother and little sister, I’ll break his legs myself!”

Dressed in a formal suit, Mr. Hikigaya—of average build and sporting a slight beard—placed his rough hand on his daughter’s head while wrapping an arm around his wife. Though his words were gruff, the concern in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Heh, Dad, I’d say big bro is probably way stronger than you now. I wouldn’t bet on you in that fight.”

Balancing the sign in one hand, Komachi Hikigaya playfully pressed her other hand to her forehead in a mock salute, sticking out her tongue to reveal tiny, mischievous fangs as she grinned. Without hesitation, she called out her father’s bluff.

It was amusing, really. Before the great upheaval, the Hikigaya family’s household hierarchy had always been: Mom > Komachi > Dad > Hachiman. After Hachiman left home to pursue his dream and seek fortune for the family, Mr. Hikigaya had endured several years of being the lowest-ranking member in the household.

“Like hell he could take me!” Mr. Hikigaya huffed, feigning anger as he puffed out his chest in mock outrage.

“Hehehe…”

Komachi giggled but soon found her gaze drifting toward the station’s semi-transparent automatic doors. Beyond them, an army of flashing cameras and microphones crowded the entrance—local news stations were already broadcasting live.

She tightened her grip on the sign. Their family was warm and full of love, which was exactly why—

’Onii-chan, you’d better come back safe and sound—just the way you were.’

Whooosh!

A whistle sounded as over a dozen ground crew members in uniform, along with assistant droids, sprinted across the station’s expansive entryway. The security pillars lit up instantly, activating several cyberpunk-esque holographic barricades, flashing bright orange-red RESTRICTED ACCESS signs in neon.

“Please step back behind the security line.”

“Maintain order, no pushing.”

The next moment, the automatic doors slid open, and soldiers returning home for leave marched out in precise formations. Instantly, the atmosphere grew electric—people craned their necks, standing on tiptoe, their eyes wide with excitement.

“Whoa!” Komachi gasped in awe.

Seeing something on television and experiencing it in person were completely different things. And knowing that her own brother was among them only made her heart race faster.

Thud. Thud.

Since this was a homecoming deployment, unit compositions had been shuffled. Yet, despite coming from different companies, battle zones, and military branches, these soldiers still moved in perfect synchronization. Their rhythmic, measured steps were executed in flawless unison—like a grand parade.

Even an untrained civilian could tell at a glance—this was a real army.

A disciplined, formidable army.

“Attention!”

Clang!

Boots struck the polished stone floor in unison, their thunderous impact echoing between the towering statues of legend that lined the platform.

“Soldiers, I’ll keep this brief. The next expedition won’t be launched immediately—you all have ample time to enjoy being with your families. However, we still have many plans and duties ahead. Relax, but don’t overdo it.”

The officer standing at the front of the formation paused for a moment before breaking into a small grin. “Don’t indulge yourselves so much that you can’t even pass the return inspection…”

Then, his expression hardened. Raising his right fist, he struck it firmly against his chest over his heart. “Remember—many grueling battles still await us! Our goal remains eternal: to spread the glory of our Great Empress across the boundless stars!”

“For the Empire! For the God-Emperor!”

“Victorious Eternally!” the soldiers shouted in unison, each pounding a fist to their chest.

“Let us all strive together!”

“You are now dismissed! Enjoy your leave!”

As the lead officer stepped back, he signaled the ground staff. With a few beeping sounds, the glowing orange-red RESTRICTED ACCESS holograms flickered and switched to a soft blue AUTHORIZED ENTRY.

For a moment, silence hung in the air.

Then, as the first soldier stepped forward and the first mother crossed the barrier, the dam broke.

“Mom, I’m home!”

“Thank goodness… you made it back alive, Shouta!”

“Hey! Daiku! Over here!”

“Big sister!”

Hachiman Hikigaya found himself swept up in the surging tide of families reuniting, suddenly feeling a lump form in his throat. His hands felt dry and restless, his skin prickling with nerves. He was about to see his parents and his adorable little sister again—so why was he so anxious?

For years, his life had been spent crawling through muddy battlefields or locked into rigid training regimens aboard starships. His conversations had been reduced to short, clipped tactical exchanges.

What the hell was he supposed to say to his parents now?

“Well, Hikigaya, my older sister and parents are here to pick me up. Kinda disappointing, though—I didn’t get to see that sister of yours you keep talking about. Anyway, I’m off. See you next time.”

“Get lost. If you so much as think about my precious Imouto, I swear I’ll kick your ass with my boots.”

Hachiman smirked as he clapped his friend on the shoulder.

“Tch! Damn siscon!” His comrade shot him a rude hand gesture before jogging off.

Taking a deep breath, Hachiman steadied himself and began scanning the crowd for his family—

“Onii-chan!”

That voice… so familiar.

Komachi!

His eyes widened instantly. Suppressing the surge of excitement in his chest, he instinctively turned toward the sound.

That familiar, ever-lifeless gaze…

It’s Onii-chan!

Komachi Hikigaya stood among the dissolving formation, waving her sign high as she watched a young man say farewell to his comrades. He looked older, more mature, and slightly unfamiliar—but those unmistakable dead-fish eyes brought a flood of memories rushing back.

Without thinking, she called out his name.

…

The moment Hachiman Hikigaya saw the sign reading “Hikigaya,” all his worries vanished. He broke into a run.

“Komachi!”

“Onii-chan! Komachi missed you so—wahhh!”

Komachi barely had time to finish her sentence before she was swept off her feet, lifted into the air like a doll. She twirled through the air in her brother’s embrace, spinning who-knew-how-many times before stopping.

“Uwah… Onii-chan, I know I’m cute, but you really didn’t have to go that far. I’m dizzy now…”

Abruptly, the spinning stopped. Komachi Hikigaya found herself staring at her brother, who nodded in satisfaction as if admiring a work of art.

“Mmm, that familiar feeling… Yes, you’re still my adorable Imouto!”

Lowering her to the ground, Hachiman Hikigaya turned to face his parents. He opened his mouth, countless thoughts rushing through his mind, but in the end, all those emotions condensed into a simple phrase:

“Dad, Mom… I’m home.”

“Hachiman…”

Mrs. Hikigaya, usually so composed, could no longer maintain her poise. Clasping her hands together, her eyes welled with tears as she stepped forward, wanting to pull her son into her arms—only to realize that he had grown far too tall and broad for her to embrace as she once had.

A mother worries when her child travels even a short distance—how much more so when they march off to the perilous battlefields of the stars? Military service brought honor and rewards, but to earn them, one had to gamble their life.

“Mom.”

“As long as you’re back, that’s all that matters.” Mr. Hikigaya stepped up as well, his eyes slightly reddened. Looking up at his son, he patted Hachiman’s shoulder—now broader and far more muscular than his own. Just as Komachi had joked earlier, it was clear now that he wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against his son.

“Whoa, Onii-chan, you’ve grown so much taller! Does the Auxiliary Army really feed you that well?”

Physically, the once-lanky high school boy was nowhere to be seen. In his place stood a man with cropped black hair, clad in a military greatcoat with a sidearm holstered at his waist. Now standing over six feet (well above 182 cm), he easily towered over most in Sector Eleven. His body, honed by rigorous training, exuded a presence forged in countless battles. (PS: Online sources list Hachiman Hikigaya’s original height as 172 cm.)

Ignoring his ever-present dead-fish eyes, his now-matured features could easily be considered handsome. The scars of war had hardened him, giving him an air of quiet strength beyond his years.

Watching her brother from below, Komachi pouted, clearly unaccustomed to looking up at him. “Wait… Aren’t Auxiliary soldiers supposed to be third-class citizens? How come you’re built like a super-soldier?”

Hachiman simply chuckled and flicked her nose.

“Don’t believe everything you hear. It all depends on who you’re comparing to. Of course, we’re nothing next to the Astartes Angels or the Imperial Guard, but compared to the old Self-Defense Forces or even the U.S. military of the past? We’re way ahead.”

Endless physical conditioning, combined with military medical treatment to heal micro-injuries, ensured zero lasting damage. Sustained enhancements through specialized stimulants pushed the limits of human potential far beyond historical records.

Compared to Captain America? Hachiman had already surpassed that benchmark.

And the upper limit? No one knew—not even the veterans who had served for decades.

According to seasoned soldiers and those who had worked alongside the Imperial Guard, there was no ceiling. In terms of raw physical capability, the growth never truly stopped.

Progress could slow. Training effectiveness might vary by individual. But the trend remained the same: constant improvement.

If fitness training offered immediate, tangible results every day, few people would ever quit. This was why the culture of physical excellence was deeply ingrained within the Imperial military.

The Empire was not stagnant—it was alive, ever-growing, ever-evolving.

Hachiman silently reflected on his time in the Auxiliary Army.

Before enlisting, he had worried about discrimination, hazing, and abuse toward new recruits. But in all his years of service, he had never once encountered such issues within the Imperial forces.

Preferential treatment? Of course. This was the Imperial Army—hierarchy was as natural as breathing.

Your rank determined your privileges. Where you lived, what you received, and the respect you commanded were all clearly defined. Even if a low-ranking soldier entered a high-ranking zone, no one would mock them—because passing those gates meant they had earned extraordinary merit.

Recognition was proof of worth.

In an army composed of the finest warriors selected from countless worlds, no one was foolish enough to question that.

“Honestly, you two—why are you standing around discussing this? Come on, let’s go home. Hachiman, I made a full-course meal just for you, all your favorites.”

Mrs. Hikigaya watched her children bicker with ease, the conversation flowing as if no time had passed. Seeing them so natural together, she let out a relieved smile.

“Oh? Now that’s something to look forward to. Mom’s cooking—I’ve missed it for so long!”

Without hesitation, Hachiman took Komachi’s hand, leading the way as the Hikigaya family finally reunited. The four of them walked home together, their laughter filling the air.

…

“Your Majesty, they all seem so happy.”

Lying on her stomach atop the upper level of the geo-orbital station’s observation deck, Alyssa pulled her gaze back from the joyful scene below.

“Say, Your Majesty… what about your mother and father?”

“Oh? Want to meet them?”

Leaning against the railing, her silver hair danced in the wind, catching the radiant light. Selene gently pressed her fingertips against her fluttering strands, holding them down.

“Mhm.”

“There will be a chance.” Selene’s crimson eyes shimmered with a hint of nostalgia. “I also have a younger brother—his name is Ferdinand. Make sure you get along well with him, little Alyssa .”

“Wha—?!”

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