The war was over.
When Muria's true self, empowered by the Titan's bloodline, formed a massive body of golden lightning with his Ikorian reincarnation as its core, the countdown began for a battle that would decide the fate of two civilizations.
And when Muria, with his lightning form, caught the second Star-Destroyer Cannon blast bare-handed, humanity's morale collapsed completely.
The Star-Destroyer Cannon, Earth's pinnacle of technological achievement, had spent a long time charging its attack. But after witnessing Muria catch it with his bare hands, no human had the will to continue fighting. Nearly everyone felt it was meaningless, almost like a suicide mission, to attack this god-like being.
For many soldiers, death was acceptable if it inflicted damage on the enemy. But when they realized their sacrifice would cause no harm at all, hesitation took hold. Self-sacrifice is one thing; pure suicide, quite another.
They were willing to die, but only if it had meaning. So, when it became clear that even their deaths would not leave a scratch on their foe, they pulled back from that brink. Life, after all, was precious.
"If humanity has no stronger means of attack, then surrender. You have no hope of victory."
A void storm, laced with Muria's will, swept across the battlefield, breaking down the mental defenses of the demoralized humans.
Anyone touched by this mental storm was drawn into a shared vision. They saw a towering golden giant, radiating an overwhelming presence.
"Enough people have died. This war needs to end," Muria said, standing at the center of the battlefield. All around him lay broken warships and ruins, with occasional glimpses of the purple-tinged faces of human corpses and scattered Ikorian remains.
The human casualties were expectedly high. Despite their strength, Ikorians, even those who could rip apart mechs, couldn't withstand the bombardment of warship cannons, much less nuclear attacks. A direct hit in open space meant death.
Yet, when Ikorians breached a warship's defenses and infiltrated the ship's interior, it was humanity's turn to suffer.
"Found it!"
As he attempted to negotiate humanity's surrender, Muria's colossal lightning form transformed into a torrent of thunder, surging toward the rear of the human fleet.
A massive, ten-kilometer-wide metallic sphere was slowly retreating through space. But unlike the forward-fighting fleet, this giant fortress was attempting to flee the battlefield.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Muria's lightning torrent enveloped the massive metal fortress, tearing through its outer defenses. Streams of lightning branched out, seeping into the fortress through every crack and seam.
"You must be the Supreme Chancellor of the Federation." A lightning snake broke through the final layer of defenses in a grand meeting room within the fortress, transforming into a humanoid figure of pure thunder as it locked eyes with the middle-aged man at the center of the room.
"Order all Federation soldiers to surrender unconditionally," Muria declared, ignoring the array of complex expressions on the humans' faces.
"I will never order the Federation's soldiers to surrender to an alien like you!" said the Chancellor, his voice firm despite his panic and anger, cursing his forces internally for their swift defeat.
He had deployed over sixty percent of Earth's military, confident this power was enough to flatten the entire Pandora world. Feeling assured, he had followed his fleet into the fray, boarding this war fortress himself, never expecting such a quick and decisive failure.
Muria merely nodded at the Chancellor's refusal, raising his hand and pointing a finger directly at him.
"Wait! I—" The Chancellor felt an intense sense of impending doom as Muria aimed at him. Desperately, he tried to stop whatever Muria intended to do.
Before the Chancellor could complete his sentence, a golden lightning bolt shot from Muria's fingertip, instantly piercing and enveloping him. The once-imposing Chancellor dissolved into a pile of ashes that scattered onto the metallic floor.
"Is there anyone else willing to order your forces to surrender?" Muria asked calmly, his power over the highest authority of a civilization evident.
The Chancellor's stubbornness clearly hadn't been as firm as he had projected. He had tried to maintain an image of resolve, and Muria had simply obliged him.
"I will temporarily assume his role," an elderly man with white hair stepped forward and calmly faced Muria.
"Order your forces to cease all attacks and prepare to surrender," Muria instructed.
"If we surrender, what will happen to my soldiers?" asked the old man, undaunted by Muria's power.
"They'll lay down their weapons and return to your world in peace."
"That's all?"
"What else would I do? Kill them all? Killing is simply one way to solve problems; I prefer not to resort to it," Muria replied.
"Can I trust you?"
"You have no choice."
And so, the war ended.
…
"Is this your world? What a polluted place!"
Surrounded by an impressive fleet, Muria looked down upon the yellow-white expanse of Earth, his voice laced with disdain.
"King Uhl!" Some senior officers piloting smaller ships around Muria felt a sense of awkwardness upon hearing his judgment of their homeworld.
"Hmm," Muria murmured, noticing something strange. He closed his eyes and employed an ancient Titan technique, allowing him to hear a faint, painful groaning sound, like that of a sick person suffering in agony.
"Your world is groaning in pain!" Muria opened his eyes, gazing at the humans around him with a look of restrained astonishment. "You have incredible nerve."
His words left the humans exchanging puzzled glances, struggling to grasp what Muria meant.
"You're fortunate," Muria added with a knowing tone before transforming into a meteor, plummeting toward Earth.
The humans around him followed suit in their ships, preparing to guide this alien deity through their world.
They remained oblivious to the true meaning behind Muria's words. A civilization was a natural fruit that a world would cultivate over time. Before this fruit fully ripened, civilization could draw nourishment from the world. However, when this sustenance went unchecked, to the point of causing irreversible damage, the world itself would "groan."
When inhabitants went from being a world's children to its parasites, the world would harbor resentment, no longer willing to sustain them at the cost of its own vitality. Instead, it would seek ways to cleanse itself of them, no matter the price.
"If I had arrived a few centuries later, I could have destroyed this civilization myself and extracted Origin Power directly from this world," Muria thought as he descended, his form blazing like a radiant meteor.
Eliminating a civilization that had inflicted irreparable harm upon its world was a way to gather Origin Power, though such exploitative civilizations were rare; most intelligent societies pursued sustainable development.
Boom!
Just before hitting Earth's ocean, Muria halted abruptly. The momentum from his descent caused black waves to surge up, carrying a pungent, fishy odor across the surface.
"You've really done a number on your world!" Muria remarked as he took in the grim sight of the blackened, lifeless ocean beneath him.
Without needing to guess, he knew this was a product of humanity's pollution. Such a dead, decaying ocean had no place in a world that had once nurtured intelligent life.
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