**Chapter 75: The Grand Fleet**
**Day 1,257.**
**Location: Earth Orbit (Geostationary Station: Olympus).**
**Current Status: Logistics Management.**
**Mood: Impatient.**
There is a specific kind of headache that comes from saving the world. It's not a physical ache—my physiology transcended the concept of migraines about eight hundred days ago. It's an administrative headache.
When you punch a hole in the atmosphere and land with the kinetic energy of a dinosaur-killing asteroid to squash a cosmic horror, people tend to have questions. Questions like: *"Who is going to pay for the rebuild of Tokyo?"* and *"Why did the tides in the Southern Hemisphere shift by three feet?"* and *"Is it safe to go outside, or is the air currently radioactive?"*
The answers were, respectively: *The Order of Truth*, *Because I'm heavy*, and *Mostly yes, but wear a hat.*
I sat on the primary command throne of Station Olympus. Well, "sat" is a strong word. I was hovering three inches above the seat. After the incident with the Harbinger of Rot, I had realized that direct contact with standard matter was risky. My passive mass was fluctuating. The 10% daily compound interest was starting to accrue in ways that made furniture nervous.
Below me, through the transparisteel floor, the Earth rotated. It looked wounded. A massive scar of vitrified glass marred the coastline of Japan—my landing zone. Clouds swirled erratically where the atmosphere was still trying to remember how to be air.
"Report," I said.
Ren stood to my right. He was bandaged, his arm in a sling made of mana-weave, but he was standing. That was the important part. The kid was tough.
"The clean-up crews are at 90% capacity," Ren said, scrolling through a holographic tablet. "The atmospheric scrubbers you designed are eating the viral clouds left by the Rot. We've stabilized the crust."
"And the neighbors?" I asked.
Ren swiped a finger, bringing up a star map. "They're here. All of them."
I looked out the forward viewport.
Usually, the view from Olympus was a sea of stars. Today, the stars were blocked.
Ships. Thousands of them.
It wasn't just human destroyers and the sleek, mana-infused frigates of the Order. There were the bio-organic husks of the Kryl Swarm, chittering in the vacuum. There were the geometric, obsidian monoliths of the Xel'Naga Remnant. There were ships that looked like floating cathedrals and ships that looked like aggressive silverware.
The galaxy had seen the Void Rift open. They had seen the stars vanishing. And they had realized what I had been telling them for three years: *The game isn't Player vs. Player anymore. It's Server vs. Malware.*
"Connect me to the assembly," I ordered.
**[System: Establishing Neural Link.]**
**[Target: All Allied Captains.]**
**[Channel: Omnipresent.]**
The air in front of me shimmered. Hundreds of holographic faces appeared. Some were human. Some were insectoid. Some were shifting clouds of sentient gas contained in encounter suits.
A hush fell over the channel.
They were looking at me. The Admin. The Monster who ate monsters.
"Gentlemen, ladies, and entities of indeterminate gender," I began, my voice projected directly into their bridges. "Yesterday, we almost lost the map."
I let that sink in.
"The Void Lords aren't conquering. They are formatting. They looked at our galaxy, saw the noise, and decided to hit the delete button. The Harbinger of Rot was just a stress test."
A murmur went through the alien captains. A Kryl warmaster clicked his mandibles nervously.
"We have two options," I continued. "Option A: We stay here. We fortify our home systems. We build walls. We wait for them to come back."
I leaned forward, the gravity around me thrumming deep enough to rattle the sensors on their ships.
"And they *will* come back. And when they do, they won't send one Harbinger. They'll send the source code."
"Option B?" asked Admiral Halloway, the commander of the United Earth Space Force. He looked tired, but his uniform was crisp.
"Option B," I smiled, and the ambient light in the room dimmed as my aura flared. "We stop playing defense. We go to the Core. We find the hole they're crawling out of, and we nail it shut with their own bones."
Silence.
To go to the Galactic Core was suicide. The radiation alone killed electronics. The gravitational shear tore hulls apart. And that was before you factored in the Void corruption.
"My fleet cannot survive the radiation of the inner accretion disk," a Xel'Naga representative stated, its voice a synthesized hum. "Our shields are strong, Architect, but the Core is a furnace."
"I know," I said. "That's why you aren't going alone."
I stood up. I floated toward the viewport.
"Zero," I commanded.
**[Yes, Architect?]**
"Execute Protocol: Patch 4.0. Mass Update."
**[Warning: This will consume 60% of your current mana pool. Are you sure?]**
"Do it. I'll regenerate it by lunchtime."
I raised my hands.
**[Skill Activation: Developer's Blessing.]**
**[Target: Designated Allied Fleet (Unit Count: 14,500).]**
**[Effect: System Integration.]**
Golden light erupted from Station Olympus. It didn't behave like light; it behaved like liquid. It washed over the armada, flowing over hulls, seeping into engines, rewriting the molecular bonds of armor plating.
On the bridge of every ship, alarms blared—not in warning, but in evolution.
Metal groaned as it hardened into *Orichalcum*. Standard fusion drives flickered and turned blue as they were infused with *Arcane Propulsion*. Shields that were once mere electromagnetic barriers transformed into *Aegis Fields*, capable of repelling metaphysical attacks.
I wasn't just buffing them. I was installing a mod pack.
**[System Notification to All Units:]**
**[Upgrade Complete.]**
**[Resistances Increased: Thermal, Void, Kinetic.]**
**[New Feature Unlocked: Mana-Link Drive.]**
The glow faded. The fleet looked different. Darker. Sleeker. They hummed with a unison frequency. They were no longer a ragtag collection of scared species. They were a Legion.
I looked back at the holograms. The captains were staring at their readouts in disbelief.
"Your ships now run on the System," I said. "You have access to the mana network. The radiation of the Core won't burn you. The gravity won't crush you. As long as the Order stands, you stand."
I clenched my fist.
"I am the flagship. You are the hammer. We leave in one hour."
I cut the feed.
***
**The Departure.**
Ren walked with me to the airlock.
"You're not taking a ship," Ren stated. It wasn't a question.
"Ships have seats," I said, checking the seals on my new void-suit. It was a cosmetic choice, mostly. My skin was tougher than the suit, but walking around space in jeans felt unprofessional for a crusade. "I break seats."
"You're going to fly manually?"
"I'm going to act as the warp beacon," I explained. "I'll punch a tunnel through the sub-space layers. The fleet just has to follow my wake. It's called slipstreaming, but with more brute force."
We reached the outer hatch.
Ren stopped. He looked at me, really looked at me. The awe was there, but beneath it was the concern of a friend who realized his buddy was drifting further and further away from humanity.
"Shigu," he said quietely. "When we get to the Core... what happens if we win? What happens when there's nothing left to fight?"
I paused.
It was a valid question. My power increased by 10% every day. Compounded.
In a year, I wouldn't just be a god. I would be a universal constant. I would be so heavy that my presence might collapse a solar system just by visiting for tea.
"If we win," I said softly, "I might have to leave, Ren. Go somewhere where the furniture is sturdier."
Ren tightened his jaw. He understood.
"Then let's make sure we win first."
"That's the spirit."
I cycled the airlock.
The silence of space greeted me. It wasn't empty silence anymore. It was electric.
I floated out past the station.
The Grand Fleet was arrayed in a cone formation behind me. Fourteen thousand ships. Frigates, dreadnoughts, carriers, bio-barges. The combined might of the Milky Way, united by fear and upgraded by cheat codes.
I drifted to the apex of the formation.
I closed my eyes and reached out to the universe.
**[Status Check.]**
**[Mana: Recovering.]**
**[Physiology: Optimal.]**
**[Destination: Sagittarius A*.]**
I didn't need coordinates. I could feel the scar I had left on the galaxy yesterday. The Rift I had sealed was throbbing like a phantom limb.
"All ships," I broadcasted mentally. "Link to my signature."
Fourteen thousand engines flared. Blue, green, and gold trails lit up the dark.
"Pattern match my velocity. Do not lag. If you fall out of the wake, you drop back into real-space, and it's a long walk home."
I focused.
I didn't use a spell. I used my Authority.
**[Skill: pathfinder_admin_access.]**
**[Command: Bridge the distance.]**
I ripped space open.
It wasn't a wormhole. It was a highway. I grabbed the fabric of space-time and pulled the horizon toward me.
"Mark," I whispered.
I launched forward.
I didn't accelerate gradually. I went from zero to *impossible* instantly.
The fleet followed.
From the surface of Earth, it looked like a new constellation was born for a fraction of a second, and then vanished.
***
**Interlude: The Wake.**
**Location: Sub-Space Corridor.**
**Speed: FTL+**
Traveling through slipspace inside the wake of a living god was a harrowing experience for the captains of the fleet.
Admiral Halloway gripped the railing of his bridge on the *UESF Indomitable*. Outside the viewports, reality was a blur of violet and neon blue streaks.
"Speed?" he barked at his navigator.
"Sir, the sensors can't measure it," the navigator replied, voice shaking. "We aren't moving through space. Space is moving around us. The Architect... he's dragging the entire fleet."
Halloway looked at the forward screen.
There, at the head of the tunnel, was a single, human-sized silhouette glowing like a supernova.
Shigu was flying without a ship, his arms swept back, cutting through the dimensional turbulence with his face. The shockwaves coming off him were what propelled the fleet.
"My god," Halloway whispered. "He's not leading us. He's *carrying* us."
Suddenly, a tremor shook the ship.
"Contact!" the tactical officer shouted. "Something is entering the slipstream! Interceptors!"
Halloway's eyes snapped to the radar.
They were in sub-space. Nothing should be here.
But the Void didn't respect boundaries.
Shadows began to peel off the walls of the tunnel. Long, serpentine entities made of static and malice. Void Eels. They were trying to collapse the tunnel, to sever the connection between the fleet and Shigu.
"Weapons free!" Halloway roared. "Protect the Vanguard!"
The fleet lit up.
Thousands of mana-infused turrets swiveled. Beams of ruby and emerald fire lashed out into the slipstream.
The *Indomitable* shuddered as a Void Eel slammed into its shields. The new *Aegis* plating flared gold, burning the creature on contact.
"They're swarming!"
Ahead, Shigu didn't look back. He couldn't. If he turned around, the tunnel would collapse. He had to keep moving forward, holding the door open.
It was up to the fleet to keep the bugs off the windshield.
"Launch fighters!" Ren's voice cut across the fleet comms. "Squadrons Alpha through Omega, clear the flanks! Do not let them touch the Architect!"
From the hangars of the carriers, hundreds of small strike craft poured out.
It was a dogfight in a tunnel made of light, traveling faster than causality.
***
**Location: The Spear Tip.**
I felt them. The Void Eels. They were nibbling at the edges of my tunnel.
It was annoying. Like mosquitoes buzzing while you're trying to drive a Ferrari on ice.
I wanted to turn around and swat them. I wanted to unleash a pulse that would vaporize them. But I was the engine right now. All my focus was on maintaining the vector. If I stopped pushing, the hyper-velocity would turn into infinite inertia, and the fleet would be pasted against the back of my head.
*// ANNOYANCE. //*
A voice. Not the Eels. Deeper.
I looked forward.
The tunnel was ending. We were approaching the Core.
But the exit wasn't clear.
Blocking the end of the slipstream was a wall. A physical blockade of Void ships. They were waiting for us.
They looked like jagged shards of obsidian, pulsating with purple veins. Thousands of them.
*// THE ARCHITECT RETURNS with TOYS. //*
It was a Void Lord. Not the one I fought before. A new one.
**[System Alert: New Entity Detected.]**
**[Designation: The Weaver of Discords.]**
It had woven a net across the exit of my tunnel. It intended to catch us like fish.
"Ren," I projected.
"I see them, Shigu," Ren's voice came through, tight with adrenaline. "It's a blockade. Hard shell."
"I can't stop," I said. "If I slow down, the tunnel collapses and kills us all. We have to punch through."
"We can't fire main cannons while in slipstream! The recoil would tear the ships apart!"
"I didn't say shoot," I grinned, though no one could see it. "I said *punch*."
I adjusted my trajectory. I aimed directly for the center of the Void blockade.
"All ships," I commanded. "Brace for collision. Reroute all power to forward shields. We are going to ram them."
"Ram them?" A Xel'Naga captain broke protocol to scream. "At this velocity? It will atomize us!"
"I calculated the math," I lied. "It'll be fine. Probably."
I focused my aura.
**[Skill: Kinetic Transfer.]**
I took the momentum of the entire fleet—fourteen thousand ships moving at impossible speeds—and I linked it to my own mass.
I became the tip of the spear.
The Void blockade loomed larger. The Weaver of Discords laughed psychically, a sound like tearing metal.
*// CRASH, LITTLE GOD. //*
"System," I whispered. "Activate cheat code: *Unstoppable Force*."
**[Immovable Object detected ahead. Paradox imminent.]**
"I love a good paradox."
We hit the exit.
***
**The Galactic Core.**
The silence of the Core was shattered.
It wasn't an explosion. It was a shatter.
Shigu exited the slipstream and collided with the Void blockade.
The lead Void ship—a vessel the size of a moon—didn't even have time to register the impact. It simply ceased to exist. Shigu punched a hole straight through it, his golden body acting like a bullet through wet paper.
Behind him, the Grand Fleet poured out of the hole, their shields flaring white-hot as they smashed into the debris.
The shockwave of their arrival cleared a sector of space instantly.
The blockade was scattered. The formation of the Void was broken in the first second of the engagement.
Shigu came to a halt in the center of the chaos. He didn't look winded. He looked *energized*.
He floated in the vacuum, surrounded by the burning wreckage of the enemy vanguard. The fleet fanned out behind him, weapons unlocking, formations stabilizing.
The *Weaver of Discords* manifested. It was a creature of many limbs, weaving threads of darkness between the stars. It shrieked in anger.
*// YOU BROKE THE NET. //*
Shigu dusted off his shoulder.
"You're going to need a bigger net," he said.
He raised his hand.
"Order of Truth!" he bellowed, his voice amplified by the gravity of the nearby black hole. "Fire at will."
Fourteen thousand ships unleashed hell.
Beams of plasma, missiles of mana, and railgun slugs accelerated to relativistic speeds filled the void. The sky turned into a light show of destruction.
Shigu didn't join the firing line. He looked past the Weaver.
He looked at the supermassive black hole, Sagittarius A*.
The seal he had placed yesterday was holding, but barely. And behind it, pressing against the glass of reality, were more eyes.
Infinite eyes.
"Day 1,257," Shigu muttered to himself.
He felt the tick of the cosmic clock.
**[Daily Update Complete.]**
**[Strength Increased by 10%.]**
A surge of power rushed through him, familiar and terrifying. His mana pool refilled instantly and expanded. The space around him warped.
He smiled.
"Right on time."
He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing psychically through the minds of every living thing in the sector.
"Ren, handle the Weaver. I have a meeting with management."
Shigu blurred.
He launched himself not at the enemy fleet, but at the Black Hole itself.
The war for existence had begun. And the Admin was going to file a complaint directly with the source.
**Chapter 75 Ends.**