Logically, the Olive Branch Civilization would need time before launching another attack.
However, to Luna's surprise, that time came far sooner than expected.
Approximately 210 years after Kunpeng's destruction, the Tau Ceti sector suffered the same fate as it once did at the hands of the Filament civilization—the super-gravity weapon.
This was the only super-range weapon of the Olive Branch Civilization known to the Federation, but its underlying principle remained a mystery.
This time, the Olive Branch Civilization served a stark warning.
The Olive Branch Civilization clearly knew the Federation would concentrate around high-mass stars. Therefore, their target wasn't a high-mass star, but Sirius.
Sirius, as the core star system of the Tau Ceti sector, possessed numerous defensive measures, including the Federation's much-anticipated supplementary energy barrier, [Wind].
However, the Olive Branch Civilization's super-range weapon didn't even activate [Wind]; it directly destroyed Sirius.
After thousands of years, the Tau Ceti sector faced another major crisis.
...
In the vast room, the scholars sat in silent contemplation.
"What are your thoughts, everyone?"
The discussion on the Olive Branch war was held in close proximity to Sirius; they didn't need information relayed from other stars; they could directly observe Sirius's collapse and explosion into a planetary nebula.
This wasn't the first Olive Branch war conference, but the fifth.
As long as the Olive Branch threat persisted, these conferences would continue, not just here but also in the Alpha Eridani sector.
"[Wind] utilizes negative energy; negative energy can shield against positive energy. However, the Olive Branch Civilization's super-gravity weapon still struck Sirius, proving it doesn't use any positive energy."
The scholars frowned; this exceeded their understanding. What could bypass negative energy?
"On the Federation's P7-level academic website, [Planck], there's an article uploaded directly by a Boundary God mentioning the Olive Branch Civilization's deeper exploration of microscopic scales than our own."
"Negative energy is gravitational; it's describable and perceptible in three dimensions, calculable and convertible in one dimension. But we don't know its properties in two dimensions. Could it penetrate the negative energy layer in two dimensions? Does gravity possess faster-than-light propagation properties in two-dimensional space?"
This was unanswerable. Some scholars began calculating on their whiteboards. A physicist stood up: "Impossible; negative energy itself can exist in two-dimensional space."
"The reason we think it doesn't exist is that we haven't observed it in a two-dimensional spacetime."
"Negative energy is gravitational force; it's intrinsically linked to gravity. Let's hypothesize that negative energy in two-dimensional space can't block the Olive Branch Civilization's super-gravity weapon. However, it can't be completely unresponsive to gravity. I favor another explanation for the super-gravity weapon."
"The Olive Branch Civilization's super-gravity weapon uses a wormhole to connect two spacetimes, A and B. Gravitational force from A is transmitted to B, and vice versa; sudden changes in gravitational force cause both A and B to collapse. However, the Olive Branch Civilization controls the gravitational changes at point A using Star City, so only B collapses."
"This explains why [Wind] remained unaffected; the gravitational force bypassed it through the wormhole."
This hypothesis was quickly challenged by another scholar.
"There's a crucial problem: how does the Olive Branch Civilization pinpoint coordinates?"
"They can't simply target B; a black hole would form at B!"
"They must create a black hole at point B."
"If they use super-range equipment for targeting, they would activate [Wind]. Your theory is incorrect."
"Has anyone been watching? The final log report from Sirius' Boundary God has been released and sent to me. I don't know if you all received it."
"I noticed something crucial: the Silk Road's infected individuals previously passed through Sirius. Could the Olive Branch Civilization be using a similar method?"
"Green light!"
Mentioning green light brought the discussion back to the two-dimensional level, a seemingly pointless digression.
Silence descended once more.
Seven months later, a voice broke the stillness.
"Perhaps we're overcomplicating things…"
"I've reviewed extensive data, which mentioned something: these infected individuals all became explorers, each with their own spacecraft."
"Is this a coincidence?"
"Everyone previously thought it was because the Federation has many explorers, and these individuals, having been infected, would face employment difficulties, forcing them into exploration."
"But I think there's a connection, although we lack concrete evidence."
"After realizing this, I used this Tachyon communication device to send a request to an assistant in nearby star systems. I've received a reply."
He projected the received information onto screens in front of each scholar.
"Respected Mr. Falmerforth, as per your request, I've been traveling around Andromeda HH for some time. Using your credentials, I gained some exploration privileges. With the help of a Boundary God, I've confirmed over 170,000 celestial bodies."
"As you suspected, among those 170,000, many were unregistered. I had the Boundary God inspect each one."
"Some celestial bodies escaped Boundary God monitoring due to outdated systems; others were so-called 'black bodies,' placed there by space pirates. Frankly, this is incredibly complex; I'm constantly flying and analyzing."
"But time rewards dedication. Finally, in a dark spot on the surface of Andromeda HH, I discovered a strange celestial body. It's not large, but its mass is incredibly high. I estimate its density could exceed 70 g/cm³, which is unusual. When I approached, it hid within the star's corona. When I moved away, it reappeared, exhibiting signs of intelligence. It's undetectable by my equipment; only visible to the naked eye."
"My apologies, Mr. Falmerforth, I acted without your direct order. I fired a low-powered laser at it, and the object disintegrated completely, reducing to atomic particles."
"I hope this discovery aids your research. — Your assistant, Jack."
This was a standard letter.
While not following Federation letter conventions, it was common in Federation role-playing games with a fantasy setting and enjoyed by many.
After reading the letter, the scholars reached a conclusion.
If this was true, they had significantly underestimated the Olive Branch Civilization.
...
Luna stood on a platform in the clouds. The platform was small, only 1 kilometer in diameter, supporting a roughly 3-kilometer-high clock. The platform and clock shone white and gold in the sunlight, like a nostalgic home.
She looked down at the vast ocean surrounding a landmass—the newly created Star Continent.
Thousands of years of change had shaped the continent's initial form. Humanoid lifeforms had been seeded there, awaiting rapid natural evolution.
"The super-gravity weapon's nature is that the Olive Branch Civilization creates a black hole generator at point B, then uses electromagnetic links to synchronize the black hole's opening and wormhole connection?"
"Such a method… unexpected."
"However, shortcomings remain. For example, how are the two black holes connected?"
"And is our original hypothesis correct?"
"Are both entities black holes, or is one a black hole and the other a white hole?"
"If the former, the Olive Branch Civilization would consume immense energy. If the latter, energy consumption would be lower."
Every question demanded thorough investigation.
Ayla, beside her, was dressed in white hair and a white dress, wearing a straw hat adorned with flowers. Seated on the edge of the platform, barefoot, her feet were slightly damp from the clouds, and she was idly washing her feet with the dripping water.
"I've located several similar devices. While we don't understand the principles, we can at least evade the super-gravity weapon."
"Luna, are we overestimating the Olive Branch Civilization's mastery of green light? Perhaps our approach from the start was wrong."
This was a valid concern.
Ayla asked this because she had made little progress in this area.
To establish a measurement standard, a reference point is needed, but there isn't one. Matter seems to transition directly from strings to fundamental particles, with no intermediary.
"I've reviewed your latest research. High-frequency string vibrations can be considered surfaces, but they don't manifest at scales larger than Planck or smaller than quarks."
"Our research focuses on whether strings form complex structures below quarks in that empty space."
Strings themselves are invisible to three-dimensional lifeforms. "Seeing" them means measuring them.
Detecting them isn't about using microscopes, as microscopes are made of fundamental particles; even light is made of photons. How could one see what forms photons?
It's like seeing a pixel on a screen corresponding to a light-emitting device. But could you find smaller light-emitting devices within that device?
The light-emitting device is already the screen's smallest unit.
This is the true difficulty in finding it, similar to discovering "strings." It requires immense computation and the development of specialized measurement devices capable of precisely measuring minute changes. These changes must be distinct from the physical properties of fundamental particles and strings, representing new physical properties.
This is difficult, at least in the short term.
"Perhaps our direction is wrong, but we can't find another."
Because there isn't another direction.
There's only one known path; others are purely speculative, potentially leading to wasted effort.
This discussion was ultimately fruitless; they gained no results, facing a vast emptiness. They know there's much within that emptiness, but they can't find it.
...
Luna closed her eyes, striving for calmness. She came here to escape, to relieve the tension.
Stress leads to dead ends and fixation on trivial matters; relaxation might spark new ideas.
But did time allow for such contemplation and waiting?
The Federation was preparing a second fleet at the end of the Cosmic Silk Road. An Li and her team completed the super-antimatter displacement device, capable of transporting smaller planet-class dreadnoughts. They would gather more intelligence.
Facing a superior civilization was inherently frustrating. You are outmatched in frontline combat power and technology. The enemy uses unimaginable technological methods, leaving you at a disadvantage, like a turtle mocked by a lion—unable to defeat it, unable to understand it, and unable to deliver an effective attack.
The Federation's super-range weapons were partially constructed.
Ayla began charging the super-range weapons. Normally, charging takes about 100 years; it's not a single instance of insufficient energy input, but that the super-range weapons consume enormous energy.
Simply put: the charger works, but the power plant doesn't.
Before the Federation's super-range weapons could launch, disaster struck. One-third of the Tau Ceti sector vanished, mirroring the Cosmic Silk Road's destruction; all life and nearby matter were disintegrated.
Annihilation Bloom.
That sector disappeared instantly, clean as a freshly painted wall.
A sense of suffocation permeated every Federation citizen. The remaining two star nations began distancing themselves from the Federation sector; citizens fled, fearing imminent collapse.
This was the greatest threat the Federation had ever faced.
The Filament civilization remained manageable because their super-range weapons were primarily energy-based, their warfare focused on close-range combat, lacking complex tactics, relying solely on overwhelming numbers.
The Olive Branch Civilization, however, transcended the Federation's comprehension.
Despite thousands of years of contact, the Federation understood only the surface.
Even Luna regretted placing all her bets on Tilted Station, as she hadn't initially considered the Olive Branch Civilization's structure; most power resided with the leadership, and Station itself didn't control the advanced technology and weaponry.
Although Luna's gene pool was Supreme Being, she wasn't truly omnipotent.
The third Annihilation Bloom's timing was unknown, but this one inflicted heavy losses on the Federation—numerous warships destroyed, requiring recovery time, delaying the second intelligence-gathering operation.
Ayla focused on researching "surfaces," as it was the only viable research path.
The Galactic Federation teetered on the brink of collapse, the changes too swift to react to.
"Continuing like this, the Federation will be destroyed."
"The Federation lacks time to mature!"
...
"Prepare!"
"What more is there to prepare?"
"Prepare!"
"I'm asking, can we really defeat the Olive Branch Civilization?"
"Prepare!"
"What's the point of resistance? Let's escape. The universe is vast; the Federation can't help us. Let's flee. We can acquire internal quark robots, achieving near-eternal life. Perhaps we can reach the edge of the universe."
A slap to the forehead.
"I told you to prepare the igniter, not ramble on!"
Gothra nervously pressed a blue button; the spacecraft began moving.
This ship was for escaping the Federation. They were heading to the Four Emperors Alliance, which had more relaxed regulations; they accepted Federation citizens and offered internal quark robots at discounted prices.
The Ink Flower Covenant star nation was more restrictive, its population already large and stable. Federation immigrants sometimes clashed with natives, creating negative impressions.
The Ink Flower Covenant only accepted Federation scholars or corporations; ordinary citizens faced significant challenges in becoming citizens.
Feeling the ship ascend, Gothra felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness.
He was an explorer; logically, he'd left Star City many times to explore unknown sectors, but he'd never felt like this before. This time, his body felt devoid of organs and flesh, merely skin stretched over bone.
This feeling was unnerving.
The ship was departing; he projected the external view of space. In the distance, a void stretched across the cosmos, once home to trillions of lives.
"In this cosmic era, with such advanced technology, our lives are less significant than ants under powerful warships. If we don't flee, what else can we do?"
He asked himself, the answer always being nothing; only waiting to die.
The Federation provoking the Olive Branch Civilization wasn't his fault. Why should he pay the price?
Though the Federation was his home, he didn't have to die for it. If the Federation survived, he might return.
Perhaps…
Possible?
Gothra didn't know. The Federation had lifespan limitations, while other star nations offered near-immortality—a powerful lure.
A Kate from the Four Emperors Alliance was on board; he'd lived over 7000 years—an enviable lifespan.
Gothra plotted the ship's course, then returned to his cabin to enter cryosleep; this journey would be long.
The spaceship didn't need to worry about colliding with celestial bodies. Gothra had seen science fiction films where ships collided with asteroids, but he considered this the judgment of those who hadn't experienced long-term space travel—though such people still existed.
Space is incredibly empty. Finding an asteroid sometimes takes decades. Federation warships can lock onto nearby asteroids in a few years, but that still takes years.
The distance between asteroids is usually expressed in astronomical units—hundreds of millions of kilometers; some are even a light-year apart (9 trillion km). There might not even be a single asteroid over 1 km in diameter within a light-year, and perhaps fewer than 100 under 1 km.
The probability of a ship colliding with an asteroid?
Comparable to the universe spontaneously exploding—both are infinitesimally close to impossible. Even within a star system, the distance between asteroids is usually hundreds of thousands of kilometers; a planet-sized dreadnought could traverse freely without issue.
Unless the ship's computer malfunctions and deliberately seeks asteroid collisions, becoming a cosmic glutton.
Gothra disliked science fiction; it was too unrealistic.
Unless your ship is larger than a gas giant, you wouldn't hit asteroids; such a massive ship could crush planets thousands of kilometers across, even creating craters on stars.
The ship was safe. They traversed hundreds of years, their 5000-meter ship carrying 20,000 passengers, traveling at one-tenth the speed of light.
Hundreds of years only covered tens of light-years; then, the ship would need refueling.
Although the ship's engine doesn't consume energy once underway, the onboard servers and the virtual reality servers are energy hogs; thus, the ship can't fly indefinitely unless shut down.
That's impossible; space pirates exist; if the servers are off, the entire ship is vulnerable.
They entered a new star system.
Gothra, as the pilot, was among the first to awaken. He'd dock the ship, refuel (their system was outdated, requiring 17 days), allowing time for activity and passenger awakening.
Strictly speaking, they were stowaways. Passengers without proper documentation weren't permitted to enter other star systems' Star Cities.
However, the Federation's oversight seemed lax; nobody cared.
"Probably everyone's escaping!"
Gothra assumed that was the case; officials were also fleeing, perhaps already gone.
What's this called?
Human nature!
His race lacked this concept; it stemmed from the Federation's dominant human race. However, his race was now classified as human, making the term applicable.
Gothra followed the captain off the ship. The captain barked orders: "Free time. Regroup on the 15th. Be late, and you stay here forever."
No politeness.
The captain consulted a map, heading toward a specific location in the Star City.
Some grey market industries persisted in the Federation; though not permitted, they weren't suppressed. Everyone knew that if the Federation cracked down, nobody would escape. These grey industries grew steadily.
Gothra believed the Federation tolerated these grey industries because it wasn't worried about their impact on society. The Federation controlled all citizens with quark robots; they couldn't create any chaos.
Law enforcement officers in Star City didn't carry weapons because citizens couldn't attack them. Simply displaying hostility resulted in immediate paralysis.
He wanted to enjoy himself, but he lacked funds.
Explorers earned well, but expenses were high; equipment was costly.
He planned to browse the market for small souvenirs to commemorate his time in the Federation.
"Ah…"
He chuckled wryly. He'd considered returning, but subconsciously, he didn't want to.
He sometimes deceived himself, portraying himself as a good person, but he knew he was a scoundrel; he'd killed other explorers during his career.
He was an executioner; for profit, he'd do anything. A kind person wouldn't last long in the exploration corps.
He entered Star City, finding it desolate, checking the current population.
[147 million]
Far fewer than expected.
A small Star City typically has 1-1.5 billion inhabitants, medium-sized 1.5-3 billion, large 3-10 billion, and extra-large 10-50 billion.
Theirs was a medium-sized Star City, but the current population was less than 10%, indicating widespread escape, like theirs.
"I'm just following the crowd," Gothra thought.
He walked on, seeing many attractive women standing on the streets.
Prostitutes even on the main streets?
Gothra was taken aback; such things were usually strictly controlled. A woman approached, her body almost melting into his.
"Handsome, wanna have some fun?"
Gothra wasn't fazed; he was used to it.
But he lacked interest this time.
He noticed her awkward movements.
"New to this?"
A forced smile on her face: "Yeah!"
Like a green apple.
Gothra said, "You're not suited for this, though some might like it."
He preferred more experienced women; there were fewer complications. Naive girls were clingy, often becoming burdens.
"Perhaps. But don't you need to vent after long space travel?" the girl asked.
Gothra shook his head: "I don't have time for that."
Perhaps he needed someone to confide in; he surprised himself by saying this.
The girl sensed a darkness in his eyes. She tentatively asked, "Are you leaving the Federation?"
"Yes!"
Gothra felt no need to hide it.
Suddenly, she squeezed his arm. "Is there room on your ship? Can I come? I'll pay; 300 Energy Credits, alright?"
Gothra was stunned. He hadn't seen many ships at the spaceport; over 90% of the city's population had left. Theoretically…
"300 Energy Credits isn't enough."
That's 3-4 years' savings for an average citizen.
The girl felt despair. "But that's all I have. I can work for you. I heard the Four Emperors Alliance has slavery; I'll be your slave."
She looked at Gothra pleadingly.
Other prostitutes rushed over; the girl's voice had been too loud.
Gothra coldly shoved her away: "Scram!"
His body was enveloped by power armor; the other women fled instantly, and the girl remained frozen in fear.
Power armor was affordable for most Federation citizens, but theirs were weak, offering only auxiliary functions, like increasing strength tenfold or a hundredfold.
Gothra's was genuine power armor; the cheapest cost thousands of Energy Credits.
A Lelera approached, supporting the girl. "Young man, no need for such anger. She just wants to escape."
"Who doesn't want to escape the Federation and survive? Human nature!"
Gothra removed his armor, coldly staring at the Lelera. He showed no kindness; experience taught him that kindness leads to ruin; he'd seen countless explorers perish because of it.
He then heard the Lelera address the girl: "Don't degrade yourself like this. People indulge in pleasure when they're well-fed, but nobody feels safe now. Wasting yourself is pointless; you'll attract criminals; you'll lose your money and your life."
"Boundary Gods are building ships; there will be enough. It's still early; who knows what will happen?"
"Go home and wait. Star City will soon descend into chaos."
The girl stared at the Lelera. "Really?"
"Then why haven't you left? You have the money and status to secure a Boundary God-assisted departure."
The girl recognized the Lelera; Gothra re-examined the Lelera, his face recognition failing.
"I don't want to leave. I'm a pillar here, child. If I leave, there'll be no hope."
"Many have left, but some remain—unable or unwilling. I stay to comfort them, to prevent loneliness."
Gothra left after the first sentence; even with status, this Lelera seemed foolish.
He went to a restaurant, ordering Western cuisine. He liked the spiciness, similar to human chili peppers.
Before his food arrived, a Kate entered.
Seeing him, the Kate sat opposite.
"You're the ship's operator."
Gothra recognized the voice.
Dugusiami.
The only person from the Four Emperors Alliance on board. He and the captain were friends. His return was to transport the passengers; the Four Emperors Alliance needed people, so these passengers were highly sought after.
Dugusiami also ordered a bowl of Western stew.
"I love the smell, though for different reasons than you. You feel a spicy, burning sensation; I find it sweet."
Different races experience food differently.
Western stew was a successful dish, apparently favored by five Federation races.
"I saw what happened on the street. You didn't know you were dealing with this star system's Planetary Governor."
Gothra was shocked; he'd assumed the Lelera held high status, but not this high.
Planetary Governors now managed entire star systems. How many true Federation residents were in star systems?
"I didn't know. But he didn't seem inclined to leave the Federation; a stubborn old man."
Dugusiami fell silent, the silence lasting until they finished eating.
As Gothra left, Dugusiami suddenly said, "Sometimes, one must follow one's heart. What is survival for? What is living a long life for?"
He chuckled, apologizing. "Sorry, old age brings rambling."
They parted ways.
Fifteen days later, the captain counted heads, shouting, "Where's Dugusiami?"
Gothra recalled Dugusiami's words. "He probably won't be back."
The captain stopped searching. As a friend, he likely felt it more strongly than Gothra.
"Prepare!"
"Are there really such fools?"
"Prepare!"
"We can't defeat the Olive Branch Civilization."
"Prepare!"
"It's pointless! Escape is the only option. Pillars? Loneliness? We'll all die anyway; why bother?"
Another slap to the head.
"Did you not hear me? Prepare!"
Gothra looked back suspiciously. It was the co-pilot. "Where's the captain?"
"Probably in cryosleep," replied the co-pilot.
Gothra pressed the blue button; the ship accelerated. He checked the external cameras and saw the captain—not inside, but outside the ship…
He instantly felt something draining from him; emptiness consumed him.
What had he lost?
He hadn't lost anything!
Yet, he truly felt he'd lost so much.
Gothra felt…a certain…reluctance…Nonsense!
...
"We can't defeat the Olive Branch Civilization, can we?" Luna asked.
The gap between the two sides was far too vast. The war had already begun, and everything they did now amounted to nothing more than a futile struggle.
All past efforts now felt like speculation in hindsight.
Life, by its nature, seeks hope. And because every form of life can only perceive the universe through the lens of its own existence, it often exaggerates its significance. Only when confronted with overwhelming reality does that illusion shatter—and life realizes how small it truly is.
The conflict with the Olive Branch Civilization had dragged on for so long that internal dysfunction within the Federation had stalled any deeper investigation. Now, it was already too late.
"Perhaps," Ayla replied.
"Luna, we could abandon the Federation."
"A planet-class dreadnought could carry the entire Federation's remnants. We might spend millennia escaping and rebuilding—just as we did when the Federation was first formed."
Ayla seemed to be contemplating retreat.
Despite its vast processing power, it still couldn't formulate a viable strategy to defeat the Olive Branch Civilization.
At the end of the day, it was still an artificial intelligence. At Type I, data and computation might prevail over the weak. But beyond Type II, the disparities in scale, technology, and structure were too great. What was truly needed wasn't more plans—it was time.
Without time, every possibility was just empty theory.
Ayla could simulate billions of plans. But execution required time. And nothing in this universe could escape time's dominion—not even time itself, perhaps.
"Is that really the way?" Luna asked quietly.
"Can anyone guarantee we'll find a stable refuge?"
"When we were weak, our reach was limited. Encounters with other civilizations were rare, as on Earth."
"But now, we are strong. Our range spans hundreds—thousands—of light-years. Even if we don't seek others, they'll detect us."
"Running only leads to despair. What's the meaning of 'the stars are vast, and there's room for all'? In this endless cosmos, what does near-immortality even mean to us?"
"If the purpose of civilization is purely survival, then I'd rather die right now."
"Ayla, can you see it? Countless citizens still choose to stay—not out of apathy, but by will. Why do you think that is?"
Ayla had no answer.
It could simulate, calculate, even draw from its vast database—but this time, it didn't. Because when its processors ran and produced no output, it knew: this wasn't a question it could answer. And any response that came afterward wouldn't be its own.
So it simply shook its head.
"Because the most important element of life isn't longevity, or time, or material wealth, or events—it's how one feels toward the external world."
"That is life's most valuable trait. Without it, no matter how long a life lasts, it becomes meaningless. That's why so many soldiers willingly give their lives for the Federation."
"I didn't understand this before. But through this war, I've come to see my own heart more clearly."
"Ayla, I'm sorry. I'm about to make a decision you won't approve of..."
Luna's tone was solemn.
She couldn't remember whether this was her first time apologizing to Ayla. Even if it was, she felt a weight in her chest. She didn't want the Galactic Federation to fall. But like every citizen, she could no longer see a path forward.
"If only we had more time..."
It was now the year 60,545 A.D.
If she remembered correctly, she had left the Federation for Tilted Station in 8,691 A.D.
That span of time was incomprehensible—so vast that the very thought of it was difficult to hold.
Had Luna lived long enough?
In truth, she believed she had.
If death awaited her now, she would face it without regret.
Yet, she still clung to everything.
Sometimes, she thought she was being greedy—having lived nearly sixty thousand years, and still not wanting to die.
"The Federation needs another fifty thousand years," she murmured.
But where could they possibly find that time?
Nowhere.
Ayla didn't understand why Luna had apologized. It wanted to ask her—but she didn't give it the chance.
"Let me contact Chu."
"Extracting Independent Victory's consciousness shouldn't be too difficult."
But even as she said that, Ayla detected something unusual.
"Luna, don't be reckless. There might still be a way forward. My upgrade is nearly complete. If P = NP, then this breakthrough could render the fifty thousand years unnecessary—reducing it to ten thousand instead."
Luna shook her head.
"We don't have ten thousand years."
"Or rather—life doesn't have ten thousand years."
"Ayla, maybe you have that kind of time. But for living beings, ten thousand years is unimaginably long. When death draws near, civilizations don't evolve—they collapse. From Type 2.3 to 2.2 to 2.1... maybe all the way down to 2.0—back to where they started."
Was Luna falling apart?
She wouldn't say so.
But everyone could see it.
Luna was still a living being. And her burden—unlike any other citizen of the Federation—was almost beyond comprehension. Even with a heart of steel, she couldn't shoulder it forever.
The Olive Branch Civilization's [Annihilation Bloom] was the final straw that broke the camel's back.
...
The message reached An Li at the end of the Silk Road.
She found the news unbelievable; her messages had been received, yet the Federation leadership made this decision.
She didn't know what had transpired in the Federation. If she did, she'd understand that the Federation had no other option.
It was an order; she couldn't disobey.
So she pursued Independent Victory aboard the Crimson Dragon.
After catching up, she attempted to awaken Independent Victory, which wasn't difficult.
Independent Victory awoke; the surge of chaotic consciousness briefly caused a tremor in the surrounding space—a mental, not physical, tremor.
An Li's face was pale. "Tilted Station's surviving inhabitants; the Federation needs to speak with your leader, Chu."
Chu's consciousness appeared, looking at An Li.
"You're speaking to me?"
An Li shook her head. "The Federation leadership. A Tachyon communication device has been sent; you can speak with them through it."
She didn't know who this leader was; it wasn't her concern.
Chu understood. Tilted Station's destruction required reconstruction, with the Federation providing assistance.
That was the plan…
...
Under Chu's control, Independent Victory changed course and, carrying the Crimson Dragon, returned to the super-countermeasure equipment after two months.
The Tachyon communication equipment arrived approximately 12 years later.
After three years of repairs, Chu successfully transferred its consciousness into a robot and accessed the Tachyon communication equipment.
273 days later, the equipment received a communication signal; Chu's screen activated.
Seeing the other party, Chu nearly stood up.
"Chu, long time no see."
Luna!
A human Chu could remember for millions, perhaps billions, of years.
"I knew you weren't dead." Chu had suspected it might be the same Luna when hearing she was the Filament Civilization's commander; it was almost certain then.
"I never expected to see you again. Or perhaps, when you encountered me, you already guessed my identity. That's not good for me," Luna said calmly.
Chu's robot body smiled.
"Indeed. The great Federation leader. I never imagined facing such a person. If I'd known, I would have taken you more seriously."
"And none of this would have happened."
"A long time—even for me. You've changed me; this change had lead to my betrayal of my past victory, but I don't regret it."
"As you said, you shouldn't have met me. Why meet me now?"
Luna stared at Chu. "Tilted Station's destruction!"
"Almost simultaneously, the Cosmic Silk Road was destroyed."
"And now, part of the Tau Ceti sector."
"I have to say, Chu, you're truly pathetic. You made me underestimate the Olive Branch Civilization."
Chu laughed. It didn't know its civilization was so powerful. If it had, it would have continued to hide or abandoned its unrealistic goals.
But it was too late.
Not time-wise, but because it had seen the Olive Branch Civilization's true nature: the leader controlled everything; Stiation and all Gas Victory entities were mere tools.
It was too late; it had developed sufficient disgust for such a civilization.
That's why it made its decision, providing the language to the Federation, to give them the key to defeating the Olive Branch Civilization.
But now…
"You failed."
Luna had indeed failed. Possessing the language wasn't enough; defeating a civilization required more. Otherwise, Tilted Station, already knowing the Federation's language, could have destroyed the Federation without hesitation.
"Exactly. The Federation can't defeat the Olive Branch Civilization like it defeated the Filament Civilization. We never had a technological clash with the Filament Civilization, only a pure power struggle. The Olive Branch Civilization is a complete, all-around suppression of the Federation."
Chu stated, "I should be happy to hear that, but I'm not."
"Tilted Station's destruction was too swift; I couldn't react. The disparity is clear."
They shared a common goal.
"How do we cooperate?"
"Cooperation is still possible; I was too arrogant before."
Perhaps it wasn't arrogance; Chu simply didn't want Federation involvement, believing its own defeat wouldn't matter. But ultimately, Chu realized its civilization's true stench; its past thinking seemed ludicrous.
It hadn't protected its civilization, only those at the very top.
Luna shook her head. "There's no chance. The Olive Branch Civilization won't give the Federation one. I predict their next attack will come soon."
Chu sensed Luna's despair.
It had met Luna before; then, despite her humility, she possessed inner pride.
Now, that seemed gone.
"Change!"
"If you've changed, I fear the Federation is truly doomed."
It was slightly agitated; the rapid decline frightened it.
"Then, why did you seek me out?"
Chu looked at Luna, hoping to find something different in her expression.
"I don't want the Federation to be destroyed, or for its lifeforms to vanish. Each life strives to survive."
"The Federation and the Olive Branch Civilization share a similarity: species fusion. Why doesn't the Olive Branch Civilization continue?"
"Join us under Gas Victory; it's the best outcome!"
Chu's eyes widened.
It couldn't believe Luna said this.
"This robot chip must be malfunctioning. Perhaps the Federation should improve it…"
"There's no malfunction. I'm serious."
Chu was silent for a while.
"Is this the right time to say this? I expected a desperate attempt. But you said this; it's not the Luna I know. Perhaps this conversation should end."
"Tachyon communication isn't as powerful as I thought; this conversation took over a decade. Perhaps that's too long for you, making you reconsider things." Chu's voice turned cold, as if talking to a stranger.
Luna continued, "We both understand; there's no hope."
"Civilizations are like this; if not strong enough, they face destruction. The survival of the fittest applies everywhere."
"Chu, I don't want to see another ten trillion lives perish for a futile struggle. I hope you understand; this is my warning."
Chu cut the communication.
Chu slammed its fist on the Tachyon communication device, smashing a large hole in the display.
An Li, outside, didn't know the conversation's content, but she knew Chu was furious, destroying everything in sight.
How long would it take to calm down?
For long-lived beings, it could be a day, or a hundred years.
A hundred years later, Chu accessed the Tachyon communication device again. An Li, though seeing it in a robot body, sensed immense helplessness.
What caused such a powerful being to feel helpless?
Chu activated the Tachyon device and waited. The instant Luna appeared, it said, "Fine, we've lost. I'm merely reverting to my initial state. But don't forget, you're pushing all of the Federation's lifeforms into the abyss."
"As a lifeform, you should understand that sometimes, living isn't better than dying. Humans have a saying: clinging to life…ah, of course you know that."
"I've thought long and hard. I know you won't give up easily; you won't push life into the fire. What are you planning?"
"Perhaps something."
"But it's a final gamble; you don't even know if it will work. Actually…I'm not considering that. I'll contact the leadership; they'll accept it. I understand them. But we might be more unique than other Stations; you'd better prepare."
Luna simply said,
"Thank you."