“Oh. My. God,” Ayaka murmured. Her murmur was caught by everyone else in the meeting, as they had all been stunned into silence by the hologram the AI had generated in the middle of the conference table. All of them couldn’t help but agree, as the visual of Proxima Centauri b was starkly different than when they had first laid eyes on it.“Proxima, generate a comparison hologram,” Admiral Bianchi said once he recovered his voice.{Comparison generated, Admiral,} the AI said as a hologram of the planet as it was appeared next to the current one.The two planets looked completely different. When they had first arrived, there was only one continent on it and some scattered islands. But now, one, two, three.... “Five continents,” Dr. Standing Bear said, her tone filled with shock. “Great Coyote, that should have taken millennia, not just months.”She wasn’t wrong, either. Change on a geological scale took time that was better measured in eons, not months! Earth had once been a pangea as w
Joon-ho had taken to sleep as a way of measuring time in the timeless meadow. Although he never knew how long he slept, or when he fell asleep or woke up, for that matter, at least he could count “days” by tracking his sleep schedule. Currently, his count was at seven hundred and sixty-three.He had no way of knowing how accurate it was, but at least the practice kept him sane. Time had proven a difficult concept to communicate to the trees, who seemingly lived forever and saw no point whatsoever in dividing days into hours, minutes, and seconds, or years into months and weeks. The only thing the trees cared about were seasons; there was a season to sleep and a season to grow. Everything else was superfluous to them.Currently, he was laying on the soft grass, trying and failing to fall asleep. Not only was he excited by his impending rebirth, but the role he had played in the creation of new life had his thoughts in a tizzy. Though the trees had done all of the work of birthing the n
Proxima Centauri b, one month later.At the former site of Research Base New New South Wales, a single tree grew. Unlike any of the other newly created vegetation, it was alone in the center of a vast clearing and was of no particular species of tree. And on that tree was a single fruit, pulsing with a rhythmic red light.Motes of shining mana were flowing into the fruit, causing it to sway from side to side. As more and more motes struck the fruit and passed through its skin, the swaying sped up with each passing second until cracks spread on the fruit’s surface. They continued spreading and widening until the fruit fragmented much like an eggshell, dropping a slim, hairless human figure to the ground, covered in a clear, slick goo. The man, for man he obviously was, given the equipment between his legs, stood and wiped the goo from his eyes.“Fuck me!” he cursed as a wave of dizziness swept over him and he nearly fell to the ground. “I think I forgot how to walk. Do I have to grow u
TFS Proxima, mobile fleet hospital quarantine ward.Joon-ho was lying unconscious in a medical pod undergoing scan after scan at a blistering pace. In a side room, separated by a thick plate of armorglass, doctors were scurrying back and forth from screen to screen, tracking the real-time data coming from the medical pod.All of them were mystified at his miraculous survival. Sure, he had lost weight, but he’d survived for months on the surface of a planet with hostile life forms, yet showed no sign of the hypotrophy they expected from someone who hadn’t had a bite to eat in all that time. They weren’t alone in their surprise, either. Every single crew member aboard the Proxima, naval, marine, and scientific staff alike, were curious as to how Joon-ho had survived. Anyone who wasn’t currently standing watch was focused on the public security feed, tapping into it with their implants and staring at Joon-ho’s medical pod, searching for the slightest sign that he was about to be release
“And how is the special interview proceeding?” Ayaka asked, though she knew the process had likely been finished in seconds, or perhaps minutes. Comparing things didn’t take long, after all; not for quantum computers, anyway. The only limiting factor was that there were a lot of items to compare, which would take at least a little bit of time due to the quantity, if nothing else.{Due to the way Warrant Officer Lee was discovered and some anomalies in his scans, the interview will take extra time as the interviewer implements psychological testing measures to detect and prevent inaccuracies in the process or dishonesty on the part of the Warrant Officer,} the AI faithfully replied. The scope of the empire’s brain and memory scanning technologies had been hidden from it on a classified, encrypted server that it was unable to access in the normal course of things, so it naturally referred to the process as a “special interview”.“If you use all available computing resources in the Proxi
Everyone at the conference table seemed to be focused on a different part of what they had seen in the reconstruction of events. Their concerns were, for the most part, what one would expect from their fields of expertise.General Frances Robespierre, the commander of Task Force Proxima’s marine contingent, was stunned by the trees’ ability to create life, and on such a grand scale. Though there were only five new species—high elves, dark elves, fae, hill giants, and dwarves—multiple billions of each had been birthed and brought to full maturity in a much shorter time than any human could even give birth to full term infants. ‘Four months.... Four months!’ he thought. ‘It only took them four months to outnumber the entire human population, and that’s just their adults!’The thought of facing a potential enemy with that kind of ability to raise troops in that quantity was frightening, to say the least.Commander Bryce Harrison, the admiral’s personal awakener-cum-bodyguard was sitting
Ayaka was the first in the conference room to react to Joon-ho’s sudden collapse. “Proxima, dispatch RES-QR response to my location immediately!”Her words shook the rest of the attendees out of their stupor and a low hum of activity picked up in the background. Dr. Standing Bear muscled her way through the gawking civilians around her and rushed to the fallen awakener’s side. She pulled an instrument from the pocket of her traditional white coat and ran it over Joon-ho from head to toe.“I... what... how!?” she stuttered.“How what?” Ayaka practically snarled.“He’s suffering from mana deprivation. I don’t understand how that could be! We simply aren’t made to store mana—it flows through and enhances us, it isn’t something we require to function...” the petite Native American woman muttered, shock still clear on her features. Then her gaze sharpened and she continued, “The trees. The trees, Commander! They must’ve done something and I think I know what the source of the anomalies we
Elsewhere....Ayaka found herself standing in a bright white nothingness. If she didn’t feel a hard surface under her feet, she would have been incapable of telling up from down. But even with that as a reference point, she could see absolutely nothing anywhere around her.She looked down to see what she was standing on and a part of her mind absently noted that she was naked. For some reason, though, her nakedness didn’t bother her in the slightest. Her rational mind knew that it SHOULD be bothered, but for some reason she simply couldn’t muster up any fear, nervousness, or anxiety at all, despite everything that had happened over the past few days giving her plenty of reasons for those negative feelings to have latched on to and taken root in her psyche.Looking past the obvious, it soon became apparent that whatever it was she was standing on was so perfectly camouflaged with the glowing white mist that blocked her view in every other direction that she could see nothing. But the m
“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