The armored convoy transporting the fleet admiral entered through the opened giant metallic gates, revealing the interiors of the western gate depot. As Abraham gazed through the tinted windows of the limousine, he saw the containers being delivered in and out along with cranes guiding them. Personnel ran about the area, clearly busy about the work they were doing.
"Welcome to the Western Gate, Fleet Admiral. Nothing outside of that wall will be able to hurt you. Not even the so-called magicians of our enemies." The admiral remarked with pride as it would be near improbable for someone to penetrate through their defenses, even with the assistance of magic.
However, Abraham didn't hold the same opinion as the admiral. After all, he knew the Magus Tower the better. They were skewered in their thinking, a bit too sly for their own good. A Bastion would be able to last against them, but not too long.
To defeat the Magus Tower, they should instead be on the offensive. This would break one of the best advantages of their enemy, which was time. With no time to react against their assault, the United Navy would have better chances dealing with the Magus Tower.
Obviously, Abraham kept his thoughts within himself, understanding that the remarks of the admiral were simply born out of the lack of information against their enemies. The old man had just recently been summoned by him, it would take some time for the guy to adapt.
Nevertheless, the Foundation, which stood at the bottom of the Citadel, was impressive regardless. Even though its capabilities to repel invaders, such as an Archmagus was questionable, it would be beyond capable to handle an enemy fleet or army besieging it.
'Besides, if I transferred the R&D Department of the Port of Dawn into the Citadel. Their ignorance towards the Magus Tower wouldn't last long, and it wouldn't take long for them to build substantial defenses against the Magi.' Abraham quietly thought to himself.
The admiral opened the door of the limousine, guiding the fleet admiral with grace and loyalty. Abraham stepped out of the vehicle and quickly noticed the salute of every personnel in the immediate area. Their backs were straightened as they looked at him with fervor.
Already used to such instinctive loyalty, he simply nodded at their salutes. Respectful of how high they held him as the fleet admiral of the United Navy.
Abraham and Old Julius walked through the Western Gate Depot, steadily reached the interior gateway leading deeper into the Foundation. Along the way, the admiral carefully explained the intrinsic details of the Foundation.
In the old man's own words, the Foundation was the dome-like structure that encompassed the protruding tower called the Citadel. The Foundation had its own barracks, factories, training facilities, and many more. It was practically a building holding an entire city inside.
The Foundation was divided into four sectors. The northern sector, the southern sector, the eastern sector, and his current location, the western sector. Each sectors were akin to districts in the Foundation, consisting of different yet similar focus.
For example, the eastern sector was the United Army's main command center, to which soldiers were trained to be part of the future ranks in the United Army. Whether it'd be the mechanized divisions, armored divisions, and many more.
"The Citadel mostly consists of supporting and logistics staffs. They make sure that the war machine of the United Navy is properly pumped with ammunition, arsenal, and ordnance." Old Julius explained, and began his third round of explanation.
According to him, the Citadel was mostly a structure of governance and command. It wasn't primarily a military center, but instead the executive's throne. It was practically a hall of governance with departments of its own, managing the fairly large populace of the installation.
There were multiple departments, whether it'd be education, energy, defense, labor, health, and many more. With these departments around, the management of an entire country was plausible without the need of transforming the command structure of the United Navy.
So, in Abraham's eyes, it was the highest of blessings. After all, he wouldn't have to hold everything to keep the naval organization afloat. Having these departments around would assure that he would live a long life without fearing his life because of overwork.
At any rate, he and the admiral entered a futuristic-looking elevator. Finally, the guards that always escorted them finally halted, leaving the two alone in the elevator. As the elevator rose through numerous floors, Old Julius concluded his exposition.
"The Citadel is an administrative institution, a small government on its own, capable of handling tasks that requires the power, authority, or politics of a country. I believe that Installation-0 will not disappoint you, Fleet Admiral." The admiral uttered with determination.
"Then, I look forward of the Citadel making me proud." Abraham smiled at the old man, who could only lightly chuckle at the words of the fleet admiral. Old Julius gazed at the highest authority, and slightly bowed. "Fear not, for we shall not fail you."
The elevator doors slid open, revealing an entire lone floor at the very apex of the Citadel. Abraham stepped out of the elevator, while Old Julius commented. "This is the safest part of the Citadel, Fleet Admiral."
"The airspace around this floor is strictly maintained, assuring that nothing can be near to the crown of the Citadel. And this floor... Is the one and only Executive Floor of the United Navy. The Home of the Highest Authority, your quarters, Fleet Admiral."
Old Julius had a proud smile on his face as Abraham glances around in curiosity. The floor was the most luxurious place he had ever seen. The glass windows encapsulating the entire exterior panel of the floor made it seem like the wealthy penthouses of his former world, even much more grander than them.
After all, the crown of the Citadel resided over a kilometer from the sea level. The view was beyond amazing as he could see the shores from north to south, and east to west.
Anyhow, only one word escaped his mouth in an utter hush whisper.
"Damn..."