Earth Time, Year 23,929 AD.
As the overall strength of the Human Federation continued to grow, expansion began once more.
Compared to past campaigns, this new wave of conquest was faster, sharper, and more decisive—like an adult bullying children. Neighboring powers were swept aside in mere moments.
The most remarkable fact was that the Federation never even deployed its main battle fleets. A handful of autonomous warships, deemed almost insignificant, was enough to resolve every threat.
When the reports came in, showing zero casualties on their side, the current Federation President nodded with deep satisfaction.
Comparing these victories with the intelligence gathered on the Aeldari, the Federation's leadership finally gained some perspective on their true strength.
They were still far weaker than the Aeldari—but certainly not so helpless as before.
The President turned to his cyborg secretary and asked casually:
"If we went to war with the Aeldari now, how much chance would we have of victory?"
The secretary, a man with the appearance of a young adult, calculated for two seconds before replying calmly:
"…Zero percent. However, we should at least be able to inflict significant losses."
"...Fine."
The President's expression soured. He had hoped for at least some chance of victory. Still unwilling to let it go, he pressed further:
"Then how long until we catch up to them?"
Since humanity's first encounter with the Aeldari, the thought of them had been a thorn in the Federation's heart.
Whether it was the crushing defeat of their fleet, or the humiliation of handing over 300 billion citizens as tribute, the memory remained unbearable.
The secretary, well aware of what weighed on his superior's mind, answered truthfully:
"Based on earlier projections, roughly thirty thousand years will be required before we can fully surpass the Aeldari."
His voice carried a faint trace of pride. For humanity, thirty millennia seemed an eternity. But compared to the Aeldari's tens of millions of years of history, such a timeline was astoundingly fast.
Just as he finished, another figure stepped forward—the Minister of Science.
Smiling faintly, with a hint of mockery in his tone, he said:
"That estimate is outdated. Based on the latest reports, it may take far less."
He explained further:
"The Aeldari are drowning in their own glory. Development of new technologies has stalled—and in some cases, even regressed. Their people squander vast resources on meaningless pleasures. Decadence and indulgence dominate their culture."
"They are like a mighty tree, still thick and towering on the outside, but rotting from within. One day, they will be nothing but dead wood."
The President burst into delighted laughter.
The more corrupt and stagnant their ancient enemy became, the happier he felt.
The Minister of Science chuckled along.
"Perhaps we should slow our expansion for now. When they fall further into decadence, then we can accelerate our rise."
In their eyes, the Aeldari were already a relic of the past. One day, humanity would stand at the top of the galaxy and avenge every humiliation.
None of them considered what kind of tidal wave would erupt once the galaxy's so-called rulers finally collapsed.
---
Earth Time, Year 24,112 AD.
On the Federation's frontier, a fleet of several hundred warships patrolled its borders.
At first glance, it was an ordinary patrol. The soldiers lounged about, chatting idly with comrades, cyborgs, or AI constructs.
Technology had advanced to the point that cyborgs and AIs, though still calling humans their "masters," had developed personalities indistinguishable from those of living beings.
Some were cold, some warm. They argued, they joked, they even quarreled with humans.
Thanks to their vast databanks, AIs almost always won arguments—something many humans found humiliating.
With personalities came emotions: affection, respect, irritation, even hatred.
Some AIs fought each other at first sight. Others bonded with humans so deeply that they built humanoid bodies for themselves and even entered marriages with their partners.
In this ever-changing era, such oddities were daily occurrences. Yet overall, society was still trending upward.
Inside the command deck, the fleet commander leaned back in his chair, sipping tea with a satisfied smile.
Just as the warm liquid slid down his throat, an urgent transmission struck his ears:
[Warp fluctuations detected. Large-scale signatures inbound. Signal patterns indicate possible hostile forces: Red-Level Target — Aeldari.]
"Pffft—!"
Tea sprayed from both his mouth and nose.
At first, the words hadn't seemed alarming. But when the final name appeared—Aeldari—his body reacted instantly.
Ordinary citizens might not grasp the weight of the name, but the commander knew it well. His father, a Federation senator, had spoken of it many times.
The Aeldari were humanity's ultimate hypothetical enemy—the threat above all threats.
And now, they might be here.
The commander's face turned pale.
"Sound the alarm! Order the fleet to battle stations!"
His shout echoed through the command deck as klaxons blared.
_____
T/N:
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