The massive hull of the spaceship slowly descended into the newly constructed, grand GDA Interstellar Port on the west coast of North America.
Unlike the crude base Director Cecil hastily established three years ago, everything before Mark's eyes was filled with order and a sense of technology, though in Mark's view, this technological feel still carried a hint of unique simplicity.
The hatch opened, and Mark was the first to step onto the solid deck.
The Earth's air rushed into his nostrils, carrying the slight saltiness of the ocean and the freshness of plants. That unique sense of tranquility, originating from the cradle of life, instantly enveloped him, soothing the fatigue and aggression brought on by traversing dimensional turbulence and witnessing the Alliance's downfall.
The welcoming party had been waiting for a long time.
Standing at the forefront was Allen, dressed in the dark blue uniform of a GDA Senior Advisor. His expression was still calm, but the heaviness he carried while in the Alliance had lessened, replaced by a certainty rooted in his current position.
Beside him was Eve, her golden hair shimmering in the sunlight. She looked at Mark, her eyes filled with undisguised joy and relief.
Rudy grinned, vigorously waving his arms. Next to him stood an intelligent-looking old man in a suit, who was the old Director Cecil, and a Robot.
But what warmed Mark's heart the most was his mother, standing slightly ahead of the crowd.
Debbie Grayson.
She looked a little older than he remembered, with more silver in her hair, but her eyes were still bright and warm, carrying a mother's unique resilience.
Seeing her son return safely, her eyes instantly welled up, but she forced a relieved smile.
"Mark! My child!" Debbie couldn't help but take a step forward.
"Mom!"
Mark quickly stepped forward, giving his mother a tight hug, feeling that familiar and reassuring warmth.
No matter how famous he was in the universe, in front of his mother, he was just a wanderer returning home.
"We're on your turf now, Mark."
Allen walked up and firmly clasped Mark's arm.
"It's good to see you, Mark."
Eve's voice was gentle yet firm.
"Boss! You finally made it back safely!"
Rudy's loud voice was full of energy.
"Mark, it's been almost three years since we last met. No matter how long you've wandered out there, Earth is still your home, and the home of all allies seeking refuge."
Director Cecil's voice was steady and powerful.
"Identification confirmed, Mark Grayson. Vital signs stable, energy readings... abnormally powerful. Welcome back to Earth, Mark."
The Robot's electronic voice was clear and rational.
Mark's gaze swept over the familiar and unfamiliar faces, complex emotions swirling in his heart.
There was the warmth of returning home, the joy of seeing comrades, the comfort of his mother's safety, and also the hidden worry about whether Earth, this fragile cradle, could withstand the coming storm.
He took a deep breath and nodded to everyone.
"Thank you all. It's truly good to be back."
That evening, in the GDA Headquarters' most central tactical briefing room, a giant holographic star map slowly rotated.
Mark, Allen, Eve, Rudy, Cecil, the Robot, and several core scientists and technical officers Mark had brought with him sat in a circle.
Allen, as the main narrator, thoroughly recounted the drastic changes that had occurred in the Alliance after Mark's departure.
He showed some blurry but shocking video clips that Eve had bravely intercepted.
Cities shrouded in purple mist, citizens with hollow, fanatical eyes, the atrocities of the PRCC Black Armored Soldiers, and Trigg's demonic appearance in the ruins.
"So, the Planetary Alliance... has completely fallen?"
Director Cecil's brows were tightly furrowed, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table.
The terrifying scenes shown in the footage far exceeded the GDA's highest assessment of extraterrestrial threats.
"Yes."
Mark interjected in a deep, metallic voice.
"Trigg is no longer himself. He has been corrupted and controlled by the Great Old Ones. I faced Their minions in the dimensional cage and felt Their power."
"It's not simple mind control, but a distortion and corruption of life and existence itself. The Alliance has become Their tool of encroachment."
He paused, his molten-gold eyes sweeping over everyone.
"And Earth... Allen chose this place not just because it's our origin, far from the Great Old Ones' core power. But also because..."
Mark's gaze turned to Cecil.
"Here there is potential, and the determination to protect."
"Potential?"
Rudy pointed to a transparent container in the corner of the conference room, sealed by a high-intensity force field. Inside were several large, faintly glowing, dizzyingly complex remnants of strange metal.
"You mean those 'Titan' things?"
"Old Man Cecil and the Robot have been studying them for years, almost losing all their hair, and they still haven't figured out if it's an energy core or a toilet seat!"
"We put the parts we took off back on, and it doesn't even spark. Earth's technology, in their eyes, is like a primitive man smashing walnuts with a rock!"
Director Cecil sighed helplessly.
"Rudy's words are crude but true. The technological level contained within the Titan Remnant far exceeds our current understanding. Its material science, energy conduction methods, and even the application of basic physical laws have subverted our cognition."
"We can only achieve preliminary stabilization and containment to prevent its energy from escaping or causing uncontrollable chain reactions. Reverse engineering... is extremely difficult."
The Robot also emitted a low hum, indicating insufficient data and limited logic.
"This is precisely what we need to discuss."
Mark stood up and walked to the star map, pointing to the large light spot representing the Alliance Main Star Region, which was marked in a glaring crimson.
"Trigg and the Great Old Ones will not be satisfied with just one Alliance. Their goal is to devour everything. Earth will eventually become a target. Time is precious. We must spare no effort to enhance Earth's defensive capabilities!"
His gaze swept over the team of scientists he had brought and the GDA researchers.
"I've brought the Alliance's top physicists, material scientists, and energy engineers."
"They have a deep understanding of the Alliance's existing technological system and may be able to provide new insights to help us understand Titan technology, or... at least elevate Earth's current technological level enough to confront the Great Old Ones' minions!"
Mark's return and the top-tier scientific team he brought were like a shot in the arm for the GDA.
A race against time for technological breakthroughs, centered on upgrading Earth's defenses, began in full swing.
Mark's team of scientists worked closely with the GDA and the Robot.
Although the core Titan technology remained as inscrutable as a heavenly book, breakthrough progress was made in studying its outer shell materials, energy dissipation patterns, and force field characteristics.
This knowledge was rapidly converted into applications.
Combining the molecular structure of the Titan's outer shell with the Alliance's alloy technology, a new type of composite armor codenamed "Titan Scales" was developed. Its strength and energy resistance far surpassed Earth's original materials, and it began to be equipped on the GDA's most elite defensive units and modified starships.
Research into the Titan's stable force field greatly improved the efficiency and stability of GDA energy shield generators. Although still unable to reach the Titan's level, defensive capabilities increased severalfold.
Analysis of the Titan's energy dissipation spectrum inspired the development of new high-energy particle weapons, whose power far exceeded traditional laser weapons.
The value of the Alliance scientists lay not only in Titan research but also in their mastery of the technological systems of mature cosmic civilizations.
Earth's starship engines, life support systems, hyperspace navigation, material processing, and information networks underwent a leapfrog upgrade under the guidance of Alliance experts.
Although Earth's space fleet was not large, the combat power of individual ships was now incomparable.
Mark brought not only scientists but also officers and soldiers who had experienced actual combat.
They conducted high-intensity joint training with GDA agents and elite units from various Earth nations, sharing experience in fighting the Great Old Ones' minions and formulating tactical plans to deal with various possible invasions.
Eve was responsible for establishing and training a special psionic perception and defense team, using her experience and some of the technology she brought to construct Earth's first mental defense line.
Using the upgraded deep space detection network and Eve's psionic early warning, the GDA established a strict monitoring network covering the Solar System.
Countless probes were deployed at the edges of the Kuiper Belt and Oort Cloud, like vigilant eyes, constantly watching for any anomalies in deep space.
Meanwhile, Allen's intelligence team, utilizing advanced decryption technology brought by Mark's team and some clandestine interstellar information channels, painstakingly attempted to capture any clues from the fallen Alliance region.
Five years passed in a flash.
In these five years, Earth, like a sleeping giant, absorbed nutrients at an unprecedented speed under the immense pressure of crisis, arming itself.
Although its overall technological level still lagged behind the Alliance at its peak, and certainly could not compare with the Great Old Ones, it was at least no longer a lamb to be slaughtered.
Mark's deterrence, Allen's strategizing, Rudy's ingenuity, Eve's psionics, Cecil's coordination, the Robot's precise calculations, and the tireless efforts of countless scientists, soldiers, and workers together built a dam named Hope.
Meanwhile, in the distant Alliance Main Star Region, time brought not development, but complete downfall and destruction.
Under Trigg's insane iron-fisted rule and the pervasive erosion of the Great Old Ones' power, five years were enough to drag a glorious civilization into an abyss of eternal damnation.
Over 90% of the population was deeply infected by the Great Old Ones' power.
Cities were no longer steel jungles but had transformed into living hives composed of writhing flesh, proliferating amethyst, and twisted biological structures, emitting a sickly sweet, putrid stench.
The beings walking the streets were no longer humans, but twisted servants of various forms, mutated and fused from human bodies, serving only the will of the Great Old Ones.
The sky was shrouded in an eternal purplish-black mist, with only the symbols of the Great Old Ones casting eerie light through it.
Traces of civilization were completely erased, leaving only a morbid worship of the "Lord of the Gates" and the "Abyssal Maw."
Less than 10% of survivors, like rats in a gutter, struggled to survive in abandoned lower-level pipes, forgotten satellite bases, and even dangerous industrial waste zones.
They used crude equipment to send intermittent, desperate distress signals into deep space, like the last cries of drowning people.
"This is the Alliance... distress... Great Old Ones... devouring everything... coordinates... warning... stay away..."
But most of these signals were interfered with or swallowed by the Great Old Ones' power, very few able to penetrate the thick mist of corruption.
Trigg himself had long lost his human form.
He was encased within a massive throne composed of dark purple biological tissue and writhing metal.
The whispers of the Great Old Ones were the only melody in his shattered consciousness.
Mark's jealousy, the craving for power, and the fear of his own existence, catalyzed by the Great Old Ones' will, gave rise to the most insane act.
Self-replication.
Utilizing the ability bestowed by the Great Old Ones to twist biological technology, Trigg began mass-producing his replicas in gigantic biological furnaces.
These replicas possessed parts of his power and fragmented memories, but their consciousness was entirely dominated by the Great Old Ones, acting as efficient killing machines and tools of subjugation.
They were unleashed like a plague upon the remaining, not yet fully transformed areas of the Alliance, accelerating the process of corruption.
Trigg's true body on the throne emitted meaningless mad laughter and roars. His consciousness split, wandered, and became lost across the senses of countless replicas, completely degenerating into a pathetic puppet controlled by the Great Old Ones' will.
Just as Trigg was indulging in the mad abyss of self-replication, at the top of the gigantic, mountain-like biological hive-throne built on the original laboratory site, space twisted without warning.
There were no energy fluctuations, no dazzling light.
Space itself seemed to be kneaded and torn by invisible fingers, forming the outlines of two unimaginably vast gates leading to ultimate nothingness, and a slowly rotating, cracked, star-devouring maw projection.
A pure, terrifying will, beyond the limits of mortal comprehension, instantly engulfed the entire star sector like a cold tide!
All twisted biological servants, no matter where they were, instantly ceased activity, as if frozen.
Even Trigg's mad laughter on the throne abruptly stopped. Countless replicas stiffened simultaneously, their eyes showing only the most primal, life-level fear.
"Container... your... mission... complete..."
Taviel's will, like the hum of billions of gates opening and closing, resounded directly in the consciousness of Trigg and all the corrupted, cold and devoid of emotion.
"Feast... begin..."
Ysogtha's will, like the roar of a collapsing nebula, carried the greed of eternal hunger.
Trigg's true body trembled violently on the throne. His face, wrapped in biological tissue, showed extreme pain and... a hint of abandoned bewilderment.
But the next second, the Great Old Ones' will completely took over.
Driven by the wills of the two Great Old Ones, the entire Alliance Star Region, this colossal, utterly corrupted hive, began to undergo even more terrifying mutations!
The planet's crust tore under an invisible force, and gigantic biological tissues spread like roots, transforming planets into living war fortresses.
Countless twisted biological servants converged and fused like a tide, forming even larger, more monstrous war beasts.
Hive-ships, as massive as planets, composed of biological tissue and amethyst, slowly rose from the wounds of the planets.
Space was forcibly twisted, forming a flesh-and-blood aisle leading into deep space, emitting an ominous purple light.
This was not an invasion, but a migration!
It was liberation!
The Great Old Ones had transformed the corrupted Alliance Star Region into a massive source of troops and a springboard. A game, in the name of devouring the universe and liberating more sealed brethren, had officially begun!
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