While everyone on Proxima B was occupied with the recovery process, the situation was quite different for the watchers back in the solar system. They were limited to observing and reacting to the live stream, unable to intervene or influence the events unfolding on the planet.The live stream setup was sophisticated, featuring multiple cameras positioned in various locations.These cameras were capable of focusing on different significant events simultaneously, with the ability to zoom in on objects without any loss of quality, provided the objects weren’t protected by privacy laws. This meant the empire was employing military-grade surveillance technology for what was essentially a live broadcast. Numerous cameras were placed throughout the star system and above the planet's orbit, ensuring comprehensive coverage.As a result, viewers had the option to watch the live stream from the same camera but see entirely different perspectives based on their preferences. The official broadcas
A week later.Following a full week of recovery efforts, the rebuilding process for the destruction caused by the fights and the planetquake triggered by Aron was well underway. During that period, nearly all details of the meeting, except for a few classified points, were made public. Along with this, the announcement of a handover agreement was revealed, alongside the news that strict limitations would be imposed on the elders to prevent them from interfering in the lives of the Proximians, ensuring such an incident would not repeat itself.The news was met with overwhelmingly positive reactions from both the empire's citizens and the Proximians. After enduring the recent chaos, many Proximians had been anxious that another elder might go rogue, plunging them into a similar situation once again. While joining the empire was already seen as a favorable step for them, the announcement that the emperor had made it impossible for the elders to interfere in their lives — combined with
The moment Aron logged in, Nova wasted no time and teleported him to a private simulation she had specially created for the event."It took quite some time," Aron remarked as he settled into the chair she had prepared for him.{Since their brain structure differs from ours, and they’ve evolved various ways of interpreting things throughout their existence, I had to restart the decoding process several times after analyzing each evolutionary phase. They’ve had quite a few of those over their long history,} Nova responded. As she spoke, she materialized visual representations of the distinct brain structures she had to decode, showcasing the complexity of their evolutionary changes."Why didn't you just use the little protagonists in our two workers to speed up your analysis?" Aron asked, puzzled by her decision to use a more manual approach.{The little protagonists can monitor and interfere with the brain, but due to the power level of the beings we're dealing with, they can't fully c
Two weeks later.Aron stood calmly inside one of the physical labs on his ship, his eyes fixed on five medipods positioned before him. Holograms hovered over each pod, displaying streams of data being collected in real time.Inside the pods, five bodies lay motionless, sustained by a constant supply of nutrients directly administered to their systems. The pods were designed to keep the bodies alive while preventing any activation of brain function, ensuring that consciousness remained completely dormant.Although the bodies in the pods outwardly resembled the various races of the Proximians, the similarities ended there. Internally, their structure was much closer to Aron’s own physiology than to that of the Proximians or even humans.{I think that’s enough observation. We should start the final etching,} Nova suggested, materializing beside him, ready to move on to the next critical step in their experiment."Sure, let’s do it," Aron said, stepping closer to the nearest pod. Immediat
"Do you want to test it out?" Aron asked when the three tree folks used the access he had granted them through their contract to reach out with questions about the bodies he was creating.Birch responded, "We need physical contact with the body to attempt the transfer of our consciousness.""That’s an easy fix," Aron said, and moments later, the tree folks sensed his personal ship in orbit beginning to deorbit and head toward the planet."Anything else you need?" he added."What level of consciousness can it handle? Depending on the brain's capacity, the amount of consciousness we can transfer will change, and I don’t want the brain to explode right at the start," Crabapple asked.Aron considered the question before replying, "During the transfer of part of your consciousness into your humanoid bodies, do you do it by cutting a piece of consciousness and inserting it, or is it like pouring water, gradually filling it up until the body reaches its capacity?"Cypress responded this time
“This feels different,” Birch remarked, her voice coming from her new body as she emerged from the now-open medipod.She experienced drowsiness and a headache, feeling unusually heavy, as if she needed more rest. Despite the discomfort, she was captivated by the sensations her new body provided. While she could simulate these experiences in VR, they were never fully accurate due to differences in brain data and insufficient understanding of it. Now, however, the experience was genuine, and she was engrossed in it, not caring about the drowsiness at all.She realized she couldn't ignore or dismiss these feelings; her consciousness was fully integrated with this body’s brain, making her as vulnerable and perceptive as any human or Proximian, or so she thought.Meanwhile, Cypress, though also adapting to her new body’s sensations, was focused on something else. She attempted to unfold her transparent wings, which were currently tucked against her back. As she extended them, they reveal
With time moving like a boulder falling from a mountain, the day of the long-awaited and much-anticipated handover ceremony finally arrived.Recognizing its significance, the event was declared a holiday—the first ever shared across all imperial territories. The excitement was palpable, and in front of the planet's largest public square, located by the Proximian main government building, more than twenty million Proximians had gathered to witness the historic occasion.This number had been limited due to concerns over crowd safety; any more, and the event might have turned unforgettable in the wrong way. The rest of the Proximians attended virtually, watching the broadcast from the safety of their homes, eager to be a part of this monumental event.But the ceremony wasn’t just for the Proximians. Nearly all the members of the exploration fleet, except for those on military duty, were also in attendance. This brought together representatives from both groups who would now be the member
"We are not perfect," Aron began, his tone shifting to seriousness after the customary greetings, causing many in the audience to raise their brows in curiosity."As humans, we’ve fought one another. We’ve killed, stolen, betrayed, and committed countless atrocities against each other." He paused, the weight of his words hanging in the air. People began to wonder if he regretted saying that or if he had been handed the wrong script.But Aron pressed on, undeterred. "I’m not saying this to boast of our flaws or diminish humanity. I say this to make it clear—we are flawed individuals."He continued, "Yes, we fought each other, but we also helped each other. Yes, we committed atrocities, but we also did better—so much so that those better actions overshadowed the worst. And, importantly, we learned. We learned from our mistakes and took steps to prevent them from happening again, or, if they did happen, to minimize the damage.""This," he said with conviction, "is our only real advantage
“Seraphina,” Aron began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of authority, “I’m not your enemy—unless you choose to make me one. I understand your anger, your frustration. You’ve lost control of a situation you believed was firmly under your command. But this predicament wasn’t my doing—you’re here because your leader chose to sacrifice you. What I’m offering you isn’t a chain—it’s an opportunity.”Her sharp eyes narrowed, the intensity of her gaze unwavering, but she held her silence. Aron leaned forward, his own gaze unrelenting as it met hers.“You can continue resisting, pushing the boundaries of the mana oath, and enduring needless pain. Or…” He paused, letting the words linger like a challenge. “You can choose to turn this situation into one that serves us both. Your strength, your insight—these are not things I wish to suppress. Quite the opposite. I want them refined, amplified, and put to meaningful use.”He motioned toward the table, where Nova was still doing fina
[Colosseum]Aron and Seraphina stood motionless, maintaining the same distance as at the start of their faceoff. Neither had moved, even during the spectacular fireworks show that followed Aron’s acceptance of her surrender. The only exception was Aron briefly waving to the citizens of his empire watching the broadcast, many of whom were overcome with emotion, crying in celebration of their historic victory. This event marked the first-ever interstellar combat they had participated in, and despite their lack of experience, they emerged as the sole victors.As cheers of triumph reverberated among his people and the disbelief of others lingered, the broadcast concluded. The moment Aron secured his final victory, the Arena itself was officially handed over to him as part of his reward, along with control of the AI referee. Without hesitation, the AI complied with her new owner’s first command: to end the broadcast. Aron had more pressing matters to attend to—a private conversation with a
[Meeting Room]Inside the Zelvora mental network, an oppressive silence hung over the gathered representatives around the meeting table. The events of the day had left them all stunned, their minds racing with the implications of what had transpired. These were not just any representatives—they were the ones who had signed off on the agreements, the architects of their civilizations’ participation in this contest.Now, they were confronted with the brutal outcome of their decisions.Many representatives sat deep in thought, their faces betraying various degrees of fear, frustration, and resignation. Those who hailed from civilizations steeped in selfish political traditions knew all too well the grim truth: scapegoats would be needed. Someone would have to bear the brunt of the blame for the humiliation, anger, and setbacks their civilizations had suffered.For many of them, the path forward seemed bleak. In the best-case scenario, they might lose their positions, exiled from the corr
To say Aron was surprised would be the understatement of the gigaannum. The announcement had obliterated every scenario he had meticulously crafted in his mind. In all his time spent in simulations, preparing for countless contingencies, not once had he considered the possibility of the Xor’Vaks surrendering—least of all without a fight.Their pride in their strength was legendary, surpassing even the vaunted arrogance of the Valthorins. For a race that reveled in their dominance, surrendering, especially on such a grand stage, was unthinkable. This sudden reversal of expectations hit him with such force that he could practically feel the metaphorical veins in his temple throbbing from the sheer shock of it all.The audience’s collective astonishment mirrored his own, but none felt it as acutely as Aron, whose carefully laid strategies now seemed almost laughably over-prepared in the face of this unanticipated twist.The largest part of Aron's shock wasn’t just the surrender itself bu
The minutes passed quickly for the viewers, their eyes glued to Aron as he sat unmoving in the same meditative position for over fifteen minutes. Speculation ran rampant on both sides, fueled by curiosity and tension.For those in the Empire, the consensus was that Aron was in VR, likely meeting with family or key figures. Many debated who he might be speaking with, guessing that he was either calming worried loved ones or strategizing for the next fight.On the other hand, viewers from the Astral Conclave harbored a mix of anxiety and intrigue. They questioned whether Aron was recuperating in preparation for the upcoming battle, enhancing his focus and mental clarity, or if his recovery from the previous fight was incomplete and he was still in the process of healing.But their speculations ceased to matter as Aron opened his eyes with five minutes remaining in the waiting period. Calm and deliberate, he removed the glasses from his head, placing them back into their container. His n
The moment the fight was officially declared over, Nova acted without hesitation. She immediately dispatched the collector ship, equipped with a medipod, to retrieve the Trinarian fighter's body. Simultaneously, she ensured Aron could rearm himself with a fresh set of nanomachines. For the first time, this process was being done openly, marking a significant shift.Previously, nanomachines had been classified technology, their existence kept strictly under wraps. However, that secrecy had been unintentionally broken when Nova used them to cover Aron’s exposed body during a critical moment, prioritizing his dignity over confidentiality. As a result, while the technology remained shrouded in mystery, its existence was now officially acknowledged, albeit without disclosing any further details.Aron retrieved a small canister from the ship and opened it, revealing a liquid-like substance inside. Pouring it onto his hand, the substance behaved unnaturally, defying gravity as it began to sp
"Him alive is better than dead, right? I can use his live brain data to study how they use their spatial abilities—it might even help accelerate my plans if things go as intended," Aron said as he stood over the fainting Trinarian fighter.{True, having him alive presents opportunities. But dead men cause no problems, while the living carry infinite potential for chaos—especially one like him. If our spatial lockdown isn’t enough to fully contain his abilities, he could use them long enough to cause catastrophic damage, even if it means enduring the backlash,} Nova replied, her tone laced with caution. She wanted to ensure Aron was fully aware of the risks he was inviting by sparing the fighter's life.Usually, Nova would have been in favor of keeping him alive—it meant more data for her to process, analyze, and extrapolate from. But spatial ability users were in a league of their own when it came to danger. Even a dead one would yield enough data to at least satisfy her curiosity for
“Nova,” Aron called out in his mind the moment his eyes snapped open, rapidly collecting information and orienting himself, realizing he had finally left the enigmatic place the system had sent him.“Nova,” he called again, this time aloud, his voice carrying a commanding weight as it echoed faintly in the arena. Receiving no response to his first call, his sharp gaze shifted to his surroundings. It didn’t take long for him to notice his current state—nearly naked, save for the swarm of nanomachines that had begun assembling around him.{The system had ejected me, sir,} Nova’s voice finally came through, calm but slightly delayed as the nanomachines completed their task. They prioritized covering his lower body, forming a sleek pair of trousers, as there weren’t enough surviving nanomachines to reconstruct full armor. His chiseled upper body remained exposed, glistening under the lights of the Colosseum, much to the awe and unease of the spectators.Nova’s pragmatic choice left Aron l
Following Nova's orders and the AI referee's approval, the mana stone carriers swiftly began moving toward the Colosseum. As the first ship arrived and entered, it wasted no time, promptly unloading its entire cargo of mana stones before departing to make way for the next carrier to do the same. The process was conducted with remarkable efficiency, ensuring a steady flow of mana stones into the Colosseum without any unnecessary delays.The process continued as over fifty ships unloaded their cargo of mana stones, an act many from the Conclave viewed as both excessive and wasteful. With each successive ship, the pain of the Conclave's viewers grew, particularly when the fifth ship alone had already matched the quantity of mana stones used during the Colosseum's initial construction. Yet, they didn’t stop there; instead, they went on to unload ten times that amount, as if mana stones were an endless resource, leaving the Conclave citizens bewildered and horrified by such apparent extra