Before the front doors of the breach pods opened, all of the pods that had successfully penetrated the ship simultaneously launched small, specialized disks toward the openings they had created. The disks powered up in perfect unison the moment they were thrown, activating immediately upon contact with the surface.Each disk emitted a localized electromagnetic field, disrupting nearby sensors and alarms, while also generating a stable environment for the soldiers to enter. Along with this, the disks continuously mapped the surrounding areas, providing the team with valuable intel. The corridor ahead now lay momentarily exposed, granting them a brief window of opportunity to advance before the ship's systems could react.As the disks operated, they transmitted real-time data between each other and the designated receivers, constructing a comprehensive map of the ship's interior within a range of several kilometers.Ismail Maylander watched as the map updated in his implants, seamlessly
[A/N: All of Xalthar's thoughts and communications go through humanity's language filter to avoid further complicating the situation.]If looks could kill, thousands might have perished under Xalthar's gaze alone. But for him, he didn’t need his eyes to end lives—his hands were more than capable. The proof of this lay before him: three bodies sprawled on the ground, broken and lifeless, resembling smashed dolls. Their mangled forms were a testament to Xalthar's brutal strength and his readiness to expel and express his feelings through sheer violence.More than twenty minutes had passed since the surprise attack, and the new vice-captain's plan to flush out the infiltrators was proving ineffective. Over eighty kilometers of the ship's surrounding outer area had been completely overtaken, and the alarming part was that they hadn’t even seen how it happened. Every soldier, slave, or armed crew member sent to confront the enemy went completely dark, as if the opposing forces were walking
“I’m going to use every means of torture known in existence before I allow you to die,” Xalthar's voice echoed ominously from his chair, a chilling promise that was muffled by the soundproof insulation of the room and thus unheard by those in the control room below.While Quorani's measures to seal off the passages had bought him a temporary reprieve, they had inadvertently sealed Xalthar's fate as well. The closures not only trapped the invaders but also cut off Xalthar’s only viable escape route—the gates through which he had planned to flee. As a result, Xalthar was now bound to share the same grim fate as the rest of the ship's occupants, his power and position rendered irrelevant against the encroaching threat since he could kill only a few thousand of them before they manage to kill him.Amidst his fury at his sealed fate, Xalthar recognized that with no escape route remaining, his only viable option was to do everything in his power to save himself. His previous dilemma was now
As the AI began sorting through the flood of requests for the star system's coordinates, ensuring only those who promised aid within the set timeframe were considered, Xalthar’s communicator buzzed. The heads of his organization were contacting him with remarkable speed, a clear sign they were far from pleased with his recent actions.Despite this, Xalthar remained unfazed. His circuit-like veins, once pulsing with anger, shifted color to a calmer hue as he accepted the call without hesitation. He showed no signs of concern, confident that he wasn’t going to be on hot waters by the end of the conversation with him."WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?!" The voice on the other end wasted no time, launching straight into the core of the matter. There was no greeting, no room for Xalthar to show the customary respect as the caller was not just his superior in rank as the leader of the organization but also in strength, two levels beyond Sage. If it came down to it, he could easily crush Xalthar
Xalthar sat in silence while waiting for the AI to receive and filter the requests to ensure they met his criteria. During this time, he was informed that the insulation had effectively halted the enemy forces on the outside. This was confirmed by the surveillance system, which displayed the enemy forces as a blob on the other side of the insulation, visible through the spectrum.Anyone in their situation would have likely tried to find alternative means to bypass the insulation. However, upon arrival and after one of them placed a hand on it, they quickly realized that breaching it within a short time frame was nearly impossible. This realization led them to cease their efforts, or at least that was Xalthar's impression from his point of view.Quorani, watching the feed near a screen that displayed all the areas under their control, felt a chill run down his spine. Even though the enemy forces were stalled and unable to advance, they were equally trapped in this confined space, unabl
Xalthar stared at the figure on the screen, more surprised than angered by the unexpected turn of events."What makes you think we're ready—or even willing—to surrender?" he asked calmly, showing no sign of worry as he was on the cusp of completing the deal that would come to his rescue. In his mind, he was already expecting the enemy to list all the reasons why he and his people were doomed and why surrender was the only logical choice.But instead, the figure merely replied, "Okay, understood," before abruptly ending the call.Everyone in the control room was left dumbfounded by the enemy’s abrupt response, unable to process what had just happened.A few minutes of silence passed as everyone in the control room tried to make sense of the enemy's unusual behavior. Typically, when one side is on the verge of victory and demands surrender, they'd follow up with a barrage of threats—promising slow, agonizing torture for anyone captured if they don’t surrender, using fear to pressure the
Within just half an hour, the material blocking the invading soldiers had completely melted away. Without hesitation, the soldiers resumed their takeover, moving swiftly and methodically. The crew aboard the ship, caught off guard by the sudden breakthrough, scrambled to return fire in a desperate attempt to buy time and reseal the inner parts of the ship. However, the invaders' speed and precision left them with little chance to mount an effective defense, as the gap between their positions rapidly closed. The situation was spiraling out of control, and panic was beginning to set in among the ship's defenders.Xalthar, having just begun to rest, was abruptly awakened by the sense of chaos spreading through the ship. His AI quickly informed him that visual monitoring in the blocked-off area had been lost, with all feeds going dark at once, informing him that the breach had likely resumed.He swiftly donned his armor, bracing for combat. "Power off the ship," he ordered his AI as he m
Ismail Maylander and his team had been advancing with relative ease, encountering opposition armed similarly to the previous groups they had already dealt with. Despite this, neither he nor the breaching forces aboard the ship let their guard down. Each of them carried a hard-earned lesson from their intensive VR training—battles where they held the upper hand but ultimately lost the war due to complacency. That experience was deeply ingrained in their minds, reminding them that the time to relax would only come when everything was truly over.However, they were briefly halted as a sudden wave of weightlessness swept through the ship. The sensation lasted only a moment before their personal gravity devices automatically adjusted, restoring them to a steady 1g. Each soldier was equipped with this device, designed to adapt to both high- and low-gravity environments, ensuring they could function at peak efficiency under the optimal gravity of 1g, no matter the conditions around them. Thi
“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