{With the changes being agreed upon, I hereby declare that the amendment has passed and will be ratified the moment it is signed by the emperor.} Gaia announced, as usual, acting as the chair of the imperial council. She then hit the gavel to conclude the session.Everyone in the room clapped for a moment, with many of the watchers unsure if the applause was out of obligation or genuine happiness. However, the smiles on their faces suggested it was the latter.Gaia then brought the meeting to a close, as this was the only agenda item for today's session and the attendees had other pressing matters to attend to.…….."Why didn’t you ratify the constitution if it had already passed the council in the first place?” Rina asked him the moment he left VR.“What is the urgency in it, darling? We teach our children (not his students at school) not to pay for anything or sign anything without seeing it first, and you want me to do the same for whole new races without seeing them?”His response
Proxima Centauri.It had been a year and three months since the messenger was sent, and everything continued as usual, following the meticulously prepared plan from the start.Proxima A was as busy as ever, perhaps even busier than before. If observed closely from space, one could see rudimentary cities nestled within the massive tree branches where the Proximians were born. These cities were built in a manner that integrated seamlessly with the trees rather than destroying them, creating a beautiful and harmonious ambiance.As per the universal bureaucracy rule, there always needs to be a meeting taking place. Currently, one such meeting was occurring between Ayaka, the official responsible for the planet, and admiral Bianchi, the leader of the entire exploration fleet."We are expected to complete the training within a month and should start extracting them from the VR pods with everything they need to live together with humans and by themselves already taught," Ayaka reported to Fl
Space between Solar and Proxima star system.{Permission granted to access the network} announced the AI controlling the ten spaceships that had halted a week away from the Proxima Centauri star system upon receiving access to the Proxima exploration fleet's network.The reason the ships had come to a stop at this specific distance, rather than proceeding further or turning back, was that it was the farthest point where they could still connect to the exploration fleet's quantum towers. Additionally, continuing to the Proxima star system would mean wasting another week, which was unnecessary since their mission was brief and purely functional, not for sentimental reasons.{Initiate communication anchoring.} The AI began by setting up the Proxima side of the communication network as the endpoint for the quantum communication link it was establishing.{Initiating network boot and docking.} As it issued this command, the AI sent a ping to the nearest installed quantum towers that the ten
Fifty-five minutes later.The entire Proxima Centauri star system returned to a semblance of its previous silence before humans arrived. The majority of the machines were put into automatic mode, while those requiring human control were switched to power-saving mode.Everyone who wasn’t engaged in an essential task had already donned their VR devices and logged into the local VR network. They clicked on the invitation link, which transported them to a massive meeting hall capable of accommodating all of them. The hall reminded them of their last gathering of such magnitude, right before they embarked on their exploration mission.“What do you think they gathered us for?” Yavuz, a mechanical engineer standing next to Lee, asked him, as Lee was currently one of the most well-known people in the exploration fleet.He was on the same level of being known as the fleet admiral, with everyone knowing and jokingly addressing him as the father of all the created Proximians since they were lite
Aron, having completed his lengthy discussion with the fleet's admiral and granted him leave, sat alone in his VR room, enveloped in silence.{What’s on your mind?} Nova inquired as she materialized beside him, breaking the stillness of the room.“I’m trying to imagine the range of emotions they’ll experience during their reunions,” Aron replied, accustomed to her probing questions.“The majority will feel happiness,” he said, “but there will be a few who experience profound distress. Some of the soldiers might face the harsh reality that their spouses, whom they left behind, were unfaithful—either having cheated out of remorse or used the mission as a chance to welcome others into their lives during their absence.”“The opposite is also true,” Aron continued. “Some members of the crew, while on the exploration mission, were unfaithful to their spouses. Additionally, some will receive the devastating news of the deaths of their loved ones during their absence.”He reflected on these s
Aron had been spending more and more time with his family since he had decided to go to Proxima Centauri at the Proximians tree folks' request, and that decision was further reinforced after the two-star systems were connected.An hour before, the Emperor addressed the Proxima Centauri exploration fleet.While the fleet admiral was sending out an emergency call order for the meeting Aron had requested and scheduled for an hour later, Ayaka was seen leaving the mothership and heading back to the planet, having been assigned another mission.Upon landing at the designated zone, Ayaka wasted no time. She stepped off the ship with a suitcase in hand and walked purposefully toward a lone tree.When she was about a hundred meters away, the lone tree began to shake and transform. Branches and leaves twisted and rearranged until a humanoid figure emerged, facing Ayaka with an uncanny valley smile."Welcome, Ayaka," the humanoid tree said. Her tone and manner of speaking seemed to have evolved
Ayaka wasted no time and immediately logged into the VR, reporting the results of her discussion with Birch to the emperor. After logging off, she opened the suitcase, which immediately materialized a physical copy of the emperor thanks to the nanomachines inside it.The physical copy's eyes had been closed since its creation, but they shortly opened, revealing golden irises as the body looked around, adjusting to its new environment.He extended his hand and closed it into a fist, testing the responsiveness and sensation through the nanomachine body. Feeling the smooth movement and the sensory feedback, he nodded with a satisfied expression.But that didn't last long. ‘I don’t like this stuffy feeling,’ he thought to himself. Currently, he could be considered to have his consciousness transferred into this body, and as a result, he could only sense what this body was sensing. With it being a purely technology-based nanomachine, he wasn’t sensing a single bit of mana or experiencing
Two weeks later.The fleet members had wrapped up their vacation and returned to their duties, brimming with excitement and enthusiasm—at least the majority of them. The fleet's exploratory mission was now in full swing once again.As usual, a meeting was taking place somewhere within the fleet, but this one was special because of one of its attendees – the emperor.Although the mission had shifted from a no-direct-contact protocol to an active-contact protocol, its core procedures remained unchanged. The only notable difference was that fleet members could now stay in touch with their families after their shifts.This meant the fleet continued to operate as a self-governing entity, with no interference from anyone other than the emperor. His oversight remained the only exception, and it would only extend beyond his usual limits if he explicitly stated otherwise.This rule, combined with the fleet's unique circumstances, led to the emperor's personal attendance at the meeting he had c
“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