In the silent darkness of space, if one focused on a specific point with utmost precision, they might notice the faintest distortion in the light—a subtle bending, almost imperceptible to the naked eye. It resembled the phenomenon of gravitational lensing, where light curves around a massive object. Yet, this was no ordinary lensing effect. Only the most sensitive instruments, positioned in close proximity, could detect the anomaly within the vast emptiness of the void.But that subtle light distortion would go unnoticed by most, as something far more conspicuous dominated the scene. A ship, large and unmistakable, coasted through space, its presence impossible to miss. It made no effort to conceal itself, traveling at sub-light speed in the same direction as the mysterious blobs that bent light around them. Its open, steady approach seemed to signal a lack of ill intent, as if the ship’s very demeanor was an attempt to assure any observers that it posed no immediate threat.“Okay, le
Earth, CUBE.In the expansive room atop the highest floor of the CUBE, Aron, Rina, Henry, his parents, her parents—his father recently released from prison a few months ago—the heads of the three ministries, Sarah, Felix, the head of all agencies collaborating with ARES on first contact, were gathered. Unlike their usual VR instances, everyone was physically present this time. The same with Nova, Nyx, Gaia, and Athena who were attending in their nanomachine bodies, seated around the massive table with the others.Despite their strong confidence in the security of the quantum network, they weren't willing to take the risk of being trapped in VR. The possibility of being imprisoned in a virtual space and used as leverage for an unfair agreement was not zero, especially when their lives, and not a random citizen’s, were on the line. Such a decision, if made under duress, would be far harder to resist when they themselves were the targets.As a result, Aron decided that all interactions
Outer space.In the ship’s control room, an air of tense silence prevailed as they awaited a response from the other side.Half an hour passed without a reply. Then an hour, three hours, and finally five hours went by with no indication of contact from the Visitors.“Is it possible that our assumption about their understanding of binary was flawed, or are they simply ignoring us?” the captain wondered aloud, his concern growing with each minute of silence.“Should we consider shifting to another means of communication?” the vice captain inquired, glancing at the captain as the waiting game continued.The empire, known for its meticulous planning and preparation, always ensured they had multiple backup plans when dealing with significant situations like first contact with extraterrestrial civilizations. In this case, they had more than just one method of communication, anticipating the possibility that their initial approach might not be effective.“Not yet. We will continue monitoring
The back-and-forth between the two AIs continued as they worked to establish a common foundation for communication. Although this could have been an ideal moment to probe each other, neither side attempted to do so, recognizing that the limitations of the communication medium made such efforts futile.To ensure the communication foundation would allow for the exchange of information with full context and minimize misunderstandings, the process would take several hours or even days. The outcome depended on how quickly each side could comprehend the other's approach. For now, it had become a game of patience, where haste could easily lead to complications.………….While those aboard the ship waited for progress in communication, the rest of the solar system remained in a state of high alert. Military bases across the system were operating at their highest situational readiness, a level they had never activated before. All forces, including those previously off duty, had been called back
“So, how is it going to work? Are there things I need to keep in mind during our conversation?” the ship’s captain asked the AI, concerned that the script might need revision. The captain wanted to ensure that there were no limitations or special considerations for communication, given the AI's understanding of the other side's system and any potential nuances that could affect the exchange.{You don’t need to worry about that. During your communication period, I'll serve as the translator, ensuring that all contexts and reasons for your statements are conveyed clearly so that they understand your intentions with minimal loss in translation. The same will apply in reverse. However, please note that at the moment, we’re limited to sound transmission. We can’t transmit large amounts of data through our current means, which allows us to communicate in real time without delay,} the AI clarified, adding a slight pause to distinguish between the two topics.“Okay, good. Send a request to st
For the next few days, there was no direct communication between the two sides. They were either exchanging technical manuals and codes for building the necessary communication technology or receiving them.Once the transfer was complete, a response came from the other side, stating that they would have the device ready in three hours before going silent again. This response alone hinted at their ability to rapidly produce such technology, suggesting they had advanced fabrication capabilities—likely akin to 3D printing, at least for small-scale devices compared to their massive ship.Regarding the use of "hours" in the conversation, it wasn’t literal Earth time; instead, it was based on the standardized measurement system established during their initial communication.What followed was a return to silence and waiting—a situation every imperial soldier trained for space warfare was familiar with. Much of their training involved long stretches of travel between points, while actual com
After five hours, the data transfer from the other side was completed. The transfer of information about humans only required about two hours, but it was intentionally extended by including filler and other white noise to conclude simultaneously with the other side’s transfer. This delay was a deliberate strategy to ensure that the other side wouldn’t cut off their data transfer once they realized that all of their information had been received.This approach also explained why both sides sent data in a format that could only be fully read once the entire transfer was complete. This was to prevent either side from analyzing the information in real time and drawing conclusions about the other’s capabilities before the full data had been exchanged.Everyone with access to the information began sifting through it at their maximum speed, which was determined by the AI’s processing capabilities. This race to analyze the data quickly aimed to provide an edge over the other side.Once Nova h
Aron paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts and process the information he had just absorbed. The weight of what he had learned required a moment of reflection before he could continue reading.Although much of the information appeared legitimate, Aron remained cautious. He didn't consider it the absolute truth, knowing that the data from humanity's side also contained skewed details—while not outright lies, certain aspects were deliberately vague or not fully explained. This understanding made him approach the other side's information with a critical mindset.But the absolute truth of the information wasn’t what mattered most. What truly mattered was that the other side expected them to believe it. Aron knew they would act based on this information. From the information he had already reviewed, it became clear that the other side likely consisted of the so-called opportunists that were included in the information hoping to strike it rich. This led Aron to s
“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