Mark, with his followers, broke through the Crown of Stars' blockade like a sharp blade, disappearing into the vast sea of stars.
What remained was a power center in ruins and an Alliance with shattered faith.
The ruins of the central landing pad, the mess in the Council of Elders' hall, and the devastating damage to the city's core district from the battle were like shocking scars, burned into the hearts of every witness.
Mark's god-like power and the sight of Trigg being completely crushed and sprawled like a dead dog in the ruins utterly shattered the Regent's myth of invincibility.
Panic spread like a plague, far more intense than any previous mental anomaly event.
In front of a giant holographic projection, countless citizens stood blankly, their eyes empty.
They once believed in the efficiency of the PRCC, once revered Trigg's iron fist, and attributed all anomalies to the sabotage of Mark's Faction.
But now, they had personally witnessed Mark's return and Trigg's crushing defeat, and seen the Council of Elders' cowardice and hypocrisy.
The immense cognitive shock left them at a loss, as if their backbone had been removed, plunging them into deeper confusion and fear.
"Who... who exactly should we believe?"
"Does the Alliance... still have a future?"
The officials, military officers, and vested interests who had originally relied on Trigg's power were now like ants on a hot pan.
Trigg had fallen?
Their backer had collapsed?
Panic replaced loyalty, and many began to secretly conspire, seeking an escape route, and some even tried to contact the remnants of Mark's Faction who had just left, seeking understanding.
Their fickle nature was exposed for all to see.
Meanwhile, the reactions of those deeply eroded by Great Old Ones' spores, with dull or fanatical eyes, were even more bizarre.
Some uttered incomprehensible gibberish and wild laughter at the battle ruins, as if celebrating some miracle, while others became more irritable and aggressive, attacking people indiscriminately in the streets, shouting about purification and embracing the void!
A small portion even showed a pathological worship of Mark's power in their eyes, seeing him as an incarnation of some deity, further intensifying the chaos.
The entire Alliance Main Star Region was like a huge, soon-to-boil pressure cooker.
Questions, arguments, and riots rose and fell.
Trust in Trigg's ability to rule plummeted to an all-time low.
In the ruins of the top floor of a Crown of Stars' annex building, Trigg gasped for breath.
The physical pain was far less than the torment of his soul.
Mark's absolute power had crushed his long-built confidence and ambition into dust. Even more terrifying, the Great Old Ones' power within him was now like a awakened venomous snake, wildly slithering and whispering in his weakened consciousness.
It came with a cold mockery and a greedy sucking sensation, as if to completely devour his remaining will.
"Loser..."
"Your value... was only... to bring him back..."
"Now... hand over... your... everything..."
"No... shut up! Get out of my head!"
Trigg clutched his splitting head, roaring and struggling in the ruins.
The brief clarity brought not relief, but deeper fear.
He realized that he might have been nothing more than a pawn on the Great Old Ones' chessboard all along, a bait and fuel used to draw out Mark and accelerate the Alliance's corruption!
Just as his mental defenses were on the verge of collapse, several figures in PRCC senior officer uniforms, accompanied by a small squad of soldiers with fanatical and dull eyes, forcibly broke through the debris and found him.
Leading them was one of his confidants, but even his eyes now flickered with an abnormal purple glow.
"Your Excellency, Regent! How are you?"
The officer's voice carried a programmed concern, but his eyes were cold.
"Outside... it's chaos outside! Many people are questioning you! Some even want to defect to Mark!"
Another officer said urgently, his tone filled with inciting anger.
"We must suppress them immediately! Otherwise, the Alliance will be finished!"
"Questioning... suppression..."
Trigg looked up, his face a horrifying mix of bloodstains and twisted expressions.
In his sole remaining eye, that brief moment of clarity was like a candle in the wind, instantly swallowed by the surging, violent Great Old Ones' power within him, and his own extreme humiliation and anger!
"Yes... suppression!"
Trigg's voice became hoarse and crazed, purple flames burning fiercely in his eyes once again, even more intensely than before, carrying an inhuman brutality.
"All who question! All who betray!"
"Shall... die!!"
He abruptly stood up from the ruins, ignoring the intense pain in his body, his twisted mechanical arm emitting a grating friction sound.
The Great Old Ones' power, like boiling magma, forcibly propped up his shattered body, and also completely drowned the last shred of his sanity.
The Great Old Ones' whispers perfectly merged with his own madness.
Surrounded by officers and soldiers, Trigg emerged like a demon from hell, reappearing on the chaotic streets.
His appearance brought a suffocating, terrifying pressure, mixed with bloodlust and defiled psionic energy.
When a small group of partially sane soldiers and civilians tried to storm the PRCC supply warehouse to distribute food, Trigg's eyes held nothing but cold killing intent.
"Traitors!"
He roared, and his still-functional right hand shot out!
Pfft!
Like a hot knife through butter, his fingers, like sharp bone blades, instantly pierced the chest of the young soldier leading the group!
Blood gushed out!
The soldier's astonished gaze instantly froze!
Crack!
Trigg swung his arm, and the soldier's body was flung away like a broken sack, smashing heavily against the wall, bones shattered!
"Kill! Leave no one alive!"
Trigg's voice, like a chilling wind from the netherworld, issued a command for extermination.
The soldiers behind him, those deeply controlled pawns, like killing machines receiving orders, instantly pounced on the terrified crowd!
The screech of energy weapons, the sound of bone blades tearing flesh, and desperate screams echoed through the district!
Trigg himself was like a tiger unleashed among sheep!
He ignored his injuries, relying solely on his body, enhanced by the Great Old Ones' power, to slaughter wildly through the crowd. Each swing of his claw brought a shower of blood, each charge shattered bones and tendons.
In the most brutal and bloody way, he declared to everyone.
He, Trigg, was still the king here!
Those who questioned, died!
This bloody massacre, like cold molten iron, extinguished the nascent flames of resistance and the last shred of hope in most people's hearts. Fear once again became the master.
Trigg stood in the center of the corpse-strewn street, covered in blood, like a demon god.
His cold gaze swept over the silent, terrified crowd, and through the omnipresent broadcast system, he issued an utterly ruthless command.
"The Alliance is entering a state of maximum martial law!"
"Effective immediately, all spaceports are to be closed! All entry and exit channels are to be sealed! No one is permitted to leave the Main Star Region without the highest PRCC authorization!"
"A full-domain curfew is in effect!"
"All residents are not to go out unless absolutely necessary!"
"All communication networks are subject to the highest level of surveillance! Spreaders of rumors and instigators of rebellion will be executed on sight!"
"All resources are to be prioritized for the PRCC and loyal forces! All actions must obey the supreme directives of the Regent and the Council of Elders!"
"Disobey and... die!"
As the order was issued, more PRCC black-armored soldiers flooded the streets, setting up roadblocks and deploying weapons.
Giant energy force fields began to rise around the periphery of the spaceports, completely isolating internal and external traffic, the sky was covered by patrolling armed aircraft, and piercing alarms blared day and night.
The Alliance, once a vast political entity representing humanity's united hope, under Trigg's insane iron fist and the erosion of the Great Old Ones' power, had completely devolved into a massive prison, ruled by fear and high pressure.
The confused were forcibly silenced, the wavering were brutally intimidated, and the deranged were integrated into a more stringent control system.
Trigg used fear and death to temporarily stitch up the wound of power torn by Mark's return, binding himself and the entire Alliance even more deeply to the Great Old Ones' giant ship sailing towards destruction.
Meanwhile, in the cold void far from the Alliance's power vortex, a shabby fleet consisting of an old transport ship and several modified escort frigates was carefully navigating along a secret route.
Mark stood at the navigation bridge's viewport of the lead ship, his molten gold eyes gazing at the boundless sea of stars.
Behind him were hundreds of determined followers who had escaped with him: soldiers, technical personnel, scholars, and even some awakened civilians.
The atmosphere was heavy, but not despairing.
They believed in Mark, and in the truth he brought back.
"Still no definite news about Allen and the others?"
Mark's voice was low, with a hint of imperceptible anxiety.
After leaving the Alliance, they had tried various ways to make contact, but all attempts had been fruitless.
Space was too vast, and finding a deliberately hidden remnant was like searching for a needle in a haystack.
The communications officer shook his head, a weary expression on his face.
"General, all known public and military channels are closely monitored by the PRCC. We can only try some unconventional, extremely old narrow-band frequencies and physical beacons, but the range is too small, and the efficiency is too low..."
Just then, a nearly forgotten indicator light on the main communication console of the bridge, labeled 'Deep Space Passive Listening Array,' suddenly flickered with an extremely faint, intermittent green light.
At the same time, a harsh but regular 'di... di di... di di...' sound echoed in the quiet bridge.
"Morse code?!"
Mark sprang up from the control panel, his face instantly consumed by ecstasy. He rushed over, his hands rapidly operating the dusty old decoder.
A few seconds later, a short but thunderous line of characters jumped onto the decoder screen.
"Alliance... corrupted... Cradle of Life... waiting... Allen..."
"...Cradle... Earth! It's Allen! They're on Earth!"
Mark's voice was so excited it changed pitch.
A suppressed cheer instantly erupted on the bridge, and the light of hope ignited in everyone's eyes.
"Earth! It's Allen and the others! They're alive!"
Tears of excitement sparkled in the technical officer's eyes.
Mark's tense face finally broke into a relieved smile, his molten gold eyes looking towards the star map, locking onto the direction of that blue planet.
"Set course immediately! Full speed ahead!"
"Target, Earth!"
The ship's engines roared with a long-absent power, and the entire small fleet changed course, like weary birds returning home, sailing resolutely towards the Solar System, towards the blue planet that had nurtured life and Mark himself.
That was the hiding place of their lost comrades, and a fortress of hope against the Great Old Ones' shadow!
A reunion spanning the sea of stars was about to be completed in the cradle of Earth.
And behind the Alliance's iron curtain, the cold gaze of the Great Old Ones might also be quietly turning towards this forgotten star sector.
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