"This thing's devouring capability is too potent!"
"I'm going to perish. It seems this plan is incredibly difficult to pull off!"
"I require energy, but there is far too little available here. I cannot absorb even a single unit. The energy here originates internally; I must penetrate inside!"
"Finally, inside. Energy is present, but I only have a few remaining small cells. Absorb, absorb quickly!"
"Ah, I am finally conscious."
"Damn it, once I achieve significant size, it will inevitably attract those lurking entities. They intend to consume me."
"It generates space, so there must be spatial rifts or fissures. I will sustain myself within these spatial gaps."
"No, this does not remotely feel like four-dimensional space. I sense countless entities surrounding me, and not just spatially—in every orientation. I have never encountered such sensations, and I cannot even properly perceive them."
"Yes, I have ascended to the Fifth Dimension. I understand now. But, previously, I was unequivocally in the fourth dimension. Four-dimensional space is far more intricate than I had anticipated, yet five dimensions are even more baffling. It confounds me. I cannot even ascertain the nature of my own physical form now."
"Wait, another transformation is occurring. Have I moved into the sixth dimension?"
"Yes, that is correct; this is the sixth dimension. After expending so much time, I finally confirm that I drifted into six-dimensional space. But this isn't truly six dimensions; I remain anchored in three dimensions. It is simply that the opposing Civilization has engineered a six-dimensional construct here."
"The initial hypothesis was flawed. We assumed the transition from four dimensions down to three would be simpler, and that part wasn't entirely wrong. But this doesn't mandate that a four-dimensional Civilization arrives in three dimensions first. If a Civilization possesses sufficient strength, it will bypass directly to three dimensions, because three dimensions represent the most fundamental dimension conducive to sustained life."
"I feel as though I am on the verge of transitioning to the next plane. There appears to be no end here. I exist in absolute darkness, capable only of feeling myself and the surrounding material constructs. I am in contention with them. The available energy is becoming increasingly scarce. Fortunately, the surrounding entities are also becoming sparse."
"Seven dimensions—I believe this is the terminus, because those entities surrounding me are now gone. Yet this environment still maintains a seven-dimensional structure, which proves this is what the Tide is engineering. I have entered the interior of the Tide. I sense energy. Here, I can commence absorption freely."
"I must exercise extreme caution. A Civilization from those seven dimensions must reside here."
"I cannot see. Perhaps this is because my sensory apparatus can only process two-dimensional space. I cannot perceive anything existing nearby, nor is there any ambient light. Or perhaps those entities have not yet arrived."
"I must halt the Tide's relentless expansion. How much time has elapsed now? I have no idea!"
"I simply need to expand internally, forming a self-contained sphere, which should prevent the external Tide from siphoning energy and will successfully thwart this seven-dimensional Civilization's scheme."
"I am too vast. My consciousness cannot sustain bearing such an enormous form. I must fragment myself into countless selves, otherwise my core consciousness will simply fade away. This is absolutely critical."
"Innumerable copies of myself are fine, but it has become excessively noisy. Moreover, as time advances, we develop divergences in our thinking. I once assumed I would perpetually align with my own rationale. Now, that notion seems rather absurd. This is merely because there weren't enough iterations of me; being numerous does not guarantee uniformity."
"We ended up in a complete dispute. It resembled shrewish women bickering endlessly. Everyone holds a distinct viewpoint. This situation is unsustainable. Eventually, we will face self-destruction. This cannot be our objective. Calm down, everyone, calm down. Unity is paramount. Regardless of whose judgment we deem correct, we face extinction. It must proceed this way."
"Indeed, it remains true: it is still me. Many of my iterations chose oblivion. Although hundreds of billions of 'me' currently exist, this number is sufficiently reduced. Furthermore, we are dispersed widely enough that we will not interfere with one another."
"It appears I have encompassed a sufficiently large area. The surrounding space is constricting. I detect the presence of the Tide again. It is drawing near."
"My plan seems to have succeeded, but why has that seven-dimensional Civilization not appeared to intervene?"
"I have finally decided to anchor a span of time."
"Another 200 years have passed. Nothing significant has occurred. They appear not to have arrived."
"Perhaps they recognize their gambit has failed, and they are considering withdrawal?"
"400 years. I detect no trace of any Civilization here. This time, it must have been a false alarm."
"The entire Tide is collapsing. I have also fulfilled my objective. Finally, I can secure some rest. But what comes next... annihilation?"
"Indeed, I still harbor profound doubts within my core. To call it high emotional intelligence, it is actually just profound cowardice."
"Desiring to accomplish certain things, yet seemingly achieving nothing at all. Too weary, too tedious. I should simply enter slumber. If I could dream, that would be ideal. That is the only solace available to me now."
"Cannot sleep. Old-age insomnia? I heard people toss and turn around the age of sixty. I am over 200,000 years old; does that not qualify?"
"Fell asleep, I should have fallen asleep by now, right? I detect no change."
"Wait, what is surrounding me?"
"Here—is this truly a dream? To think such phenomena exist! So utterly fantastical! This is the first time I have experienced such a vivid dreamscape."
"Is something approaching from over there?"
"I perished. Fortunately, I managed to absorb some of the Tide while asleep, continuously creating copies of myself. Otherwise, this would have been absolute finality. Seventy percent of my being vanished instantly. That was terrifying! That was definitively not a dream. Could that be what I was seeking?"
"I must re-enter."
"No response. The portion of consciousness that entered has vanished. It is definitively the seven-dimensional Civilization, without a doubt. It conceals itself within dreams. Look at what they have constructed here! They have erected a colossal structure within this domain."
"Difficult to comprehend. How was such a feat achieved?"
"The Tide appears to have been entirely consumed by me. The energy transmission from the dimensional gateway has also ceased for an extended period. My physical form is on the brink of disintegration. I pray someone arrives here soon. I must secure critical information."
"They are here. I see warships approaching. Warships entirely unknown to me. It must be the Flyer Civilization. But that is acceptable; consider it a necessary transaction."
"So I followed too. This turn of events is ultimately for the best."
Luna absorbed all the memories. She stood in stunned silence for a considerable duration, processing everything she had witnessed, most centrally focusing on the object within that dreamscape.
Would the collapse of this localized space affect the colossal structure nested within the dream?
If it remained unaffected, then that seven-dimensional Civilization was likely already prepared for contingency.
Could the Federation and the Flyer Civilization manage to halt the dream invasion?
Luna swiftly returned to the warship.
Walton greeted her, inquiring, "How was it? Did you manage to extract any intelligence regarding that seven-dimensional Civilization?"
The moment he spoke, Luna instantly looked up at Walton.
"You were already aware it was a seven-dimensional Civilization?"
Walton immediately realized his error in speech.
A moment of silence passed between them.
After several seconds of mutual observation, Walton finally spoke: "It was merely a discovery, nothing more. The small fragment of the Tide we retrieved earlier—we analyzed it, and it appears to be part of some much larger structure. The spatial dimension it creates is not being utilized directly by us."
"You can visualize three dimensions as a triangle. That Civilization destroyed one vertex of the triangle and added a new edge. Initially, we hypothesized it formed a quadrilateral, but we soon realized the newly added edge was too short; it couldn't complete a full quadrilateral. Therefore, it's highly probable there are other edges involved. Based on our analysis, this configuration suggests up to seven dimensions."
Walton also mentally noted Luna's earlier statements.
"So, our initial conjecture wasn't incorrect, was it?"
The true nature is indeed a seven-dimensional Civilization; that complicates matters significantly.
At this juncture, Luna finally grasped why Walton had previously advocated for bringing the Federation fleet to this location.
And also, why he initiated the opening of the Kamelin Sector in the first place.
Presumably, he had hoped the Federation would arrive to obstruct that seven-dimensional Civilization.
"Correct."
"However, that seven-dimensional Civilization isn't physically present here." Luna admitted plainly.
On this specific point, she would not allow herself to lie.
This piece of information was too critical. Trapping the Flyer Civilization effectively meant trapping the Federation as well. In the current dimensional war climate, adjacent powers naturally serve as the strongest protective barrier. The stronger this shield, the better, provided it doesn't unexpectedly turn into an aggressive spear.
Although Walton had spent a considerable time studying English, he couldn't immediately decipher the multiple layers of hidden meaning embedded in her dialogue.
He let out a deep sigh of relief.
"That's for the best, then."
The best?
This was, in fact, the worst possible scenario.
"I am not entirely certain if they possess the capability to observe us."
"What I mean by 'not here' is that they are not spatially present—err… it should be phrased as 'not present on our dimensional stratum.' They are not on our level, but operating on another."
"Based on the intelligence I possess, they seem utterly indifferent to whether I annihilate everything in this sector; they simply don't care."
"I suspect they have already finalized all preparations and possess the methods necessary to invade three-dimensional space."
Walton listened, utterly bewildered.
What in the cosmos was going on?
One moment she claimed they weren't present, and the next she stated they were.
Was she deliberately mocking him, treating him like a simpleton?
"You had best articulate your points using simpler terminology."
Luna switched to the Flyer Civilization's native language and addressed Walton again, this time providing a more comprehensive explanation.
"My counterpart did not observe the invaders within this space before us; she witnessed them within a dream state."
"Your Kirara species rarely engages in sleep, I presume, so I am unsure if you experience what we call dreams."
Advanced Civilizations typically operate without the need for sleep.
If one can function optimally 24 hours a day, there is no rationale for indulging in time-consuming activities such as slumber.
Especially since the life-span projections of the two Civilizations are so closely aligned, this compels ordinary beings to value their time even more intensely.
"Dreams… you must be referring to Yinka. In very ancient records, there are indeed descriptions of Yinka. When a sentient being enters sleep, various marvelous phenomena manifest, and occasionally, genuine prognostication occurs."
"But that knowledge is archaic, predating even our technological zenith."
For the Kirara, dreams are an uncommon occurrence.
In truth, it is the same within the Federation; many life forms simply do not dream.
"Actually, we possess some documentation concerning Yinka. Because Yinka is so rare, we even have dedicated Yinka scholars. They dedicate themselves to studying Yinka individuals. It appears one scholar hypothesized that Yinka is essentially an extension of consciousness."
"During sleep, consciousness enters an unusually active phase. It extends outward, making contact with something else. This process of extension and contact, just before the subject awakens, contracts rapidly. The compressed consciousness then enters a period of internal chaos, where its various components intermingle, forming the Yinka experience."
Yinka, therefore, is a vortex of emergent consciousness.
Daydreaming also tends to occur in the latter half of the night, leading into the early morning. Only after achieving deep rest can one truly daydream, which is why people are often abruptly pulled from their dreams by alarm clocks.
Often, as a person becomes increasingly alert, they can recognize the illusory nature of the dream itself.
"You understand the concept best."
"This is precisely what I meant when I stated they do not manifest in the space immediately before us."
"I believe they are intentionally avoiding full entry into three dimensions. They are aware their abilities will be significantly attenuated in a three-dimensional environment, making warfare against our three-dimensional Civilization difficult. Even a top-tier civilization would suffer massive degradation."
"Then this must be one of the few states where their capabilities remain uncompromised. Within the realm of dreams, they can maintain peak operational status."
This presented a grave issue.
Their adversary in full capacity was simply beyond their current means to counter effectively.
Haru analyzed the opponent as a Type 2.8 Civilization. Luna's own estimation was strikingly similar.
Walton and Luna both slipped into a state of profound helplessness.
And precisely at that moment.
The warship relayed a message to Walton, and his mood instantly plummeted.
"Order: Retreat. Have all warships fall back 1 light-year."
Hearing this, Luna immediately grasped the implication.
"A crew member was lost? Did they enter the dream itself, or were they physically pulled into the dream dimension?"
Faced with Luna's direct question, Walton confirmed.
"The soldier was stable during the long-distance transit, so they would have naturally entered a deep sleep state. Based on the initial telemetry, this entry was voluntary."
"However, we cannot rule out the possibility that this Civilization possesses the means to forcibly drag us into their dreams. If they lack that capability, then what purpose would their costly advance into three dimensions serve?"
The adversary clearly possessed some method of influencing them remotely.
That explained Walton's extreme tension.
All warships began their ordered withdrawal.
However, Walton was still one critical step too slow; reports continued to flood in: soldiers were dying. These troops perished silently in their sleep, showing no external signs of trauma.
This alarming development triggered a memory in Luna concerning a past incident.
She recalled once successfully resolving a case involving dream abductions.
The perpetrator in that instance had targeted all citizens of a Star City, binding them within their respective dreams. Were these two scenarios fundamentally similar?
Could she employ comparable methods to infiltrate this dream world? Even if she succeeded in entering, how would she possibly confront a civilization operating in seven dimensions?
Such complex inquiries merely flashed through Luna's mind; she had no time to dwell on them.
Because the imminent danger had arrived!
Emanating from the dimensional gateway, the invisible entity seemed to be expanding in an indescribable fashion.
Luna watched in horror as her own clones and their fractured components were rapidly consumed.
Each fragment, capable of spanning several hundred astronomical units, was devoured almost instantaneously—in one second, perhaps even less.
"Go, quickly!"
The warship was already executing a turn.
Since the exterior was merely a shell protecting an internal core only a few meters in size, the Flyer Civilization warship could pivot with incredible speed, boasting a turning radius of only a few hundred thousand kilometers.
By contrast, a Federation warship would require a turning radius exceeding ten million kilometers.
Yet, the entity's rate of expansion surpassed even the speed of light, and a portion of the fleet was still tragically swallowed whole.
The warship carrying Luna and Walton narrowly managed to escape.
It accelerated to its maximum velocity.
The distance between the entity and them was less than 100,000 kilometers.
How could they possibly escape?
There was no escaping.
In an instant, the entire fleet was engulfed by the invisible entity.
Luna felt her body enter a medium resembling aerogel; she was constrained, suffocated.
Fortunately, her mecha instantly enveloped her entire body, supplying her with necessary oxygen.
She scanned her surroundings.
She saw Walton moving outward, but it hadn't traveled far. Its structure seemed to be gradually increasing in mass, its speed slowing more and more, until it finally halted mid-air.
Was it deceased?
Luna drifted closer.
She examined Walton's status and discovered that it was not dead.
Walton retained its specialized body structure.
It was merely… asleep?
"This invisible entity won't destroy anything; it can only drag life forms into dreams."
"That is their sovereign territory!"
Luna instantly grasped the nature of this tactic.
The opposing Civilization, having engineered a dream world, clearly held no intention of manifesting true physical entities in three dimensions.
Given that preference, they wouldn't dispatch physical constructs into the third dimension to attack. The most efficient method would be to simply pull living beings into their dreamscape.
Perhaps the process wasn't even pulling life itself, but rather directly dragging consciousness into the dream.
"Life" is a broad term; machines can be considered life, but machines themselves lack inherent consciousness.
Walton had just explicitly stated:
A dreamscape is a vortex of consciousness, which confirms that only entities possessing consciousness can enter a dream.
"I must vacate this space immediately."
Luna was forced to engage her mecha's internal propulsion system to accelerate herself, attempting to break free from this unknown, viscous mire.
But soon she realized the acceleration system was unnecessary.
Or perhaps it wasn't that acceleration was unneeded, but rather that particles within this region found it exceptionally difficult to interact or generate overtly violent physical or chemical reactions.
She perceived that she was moving at a normal pace.
But in reality, her cognitive functions and physical movements might have already been slowed down by dozens, perhaps even hundreds of times.
She couldn't move, and the warship couldn't move; she would be perpetually trapped here.
"Perhaps I can devour the surroundings?"
Luna attempted this theory.
Then she found it utterly impossible.
Her energy absorption capabilities seemed nullified; nothing could be drawn in.
Furthermore, she observed her mecha's energy levels depleting at an alarming rate. The mecha, originally capable of sustained high-intensity operation for at least several decades, was rapidly losing power.
It wasn't solely the passage of time; the surrounding layer of aerogel appeared to be actively draining energy.
However, Luna's own Metacellular system failed to register any other form of energy present near her.
This layer of aerogel seemed imperceptible, yet she could sense its control effortlessly.
"I was mistaken. There isn't any physical aerogel surrounding me; rather, my very being is under control. Every single particle in this vicinity is being dictated, their states fundamentally altered."
Luna only managed to formulate this conclusion after a significant period had elapsed.
She watched her mecha's energy drain accelerate until it hit its absolute floor.
Then, 0%.
At that precise moment, the entire mecha structure began rapidly dissolving, no longer adhering to Luna's body.
Normally, such a failure was unthinkable.
A mecha, even devoid of power, was programmed to shield its user. This was a core design protocol, exhaustively validated.
Yet, now, that protection had utterly failed.
Luna felt the aerogel-like substance permeate the very surface of her skin.
Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
She hadn't experienced such crushing fatigue in an incredibly long time, save for one notorious instance when her supervisor had forced her to debug a critical issue overnight.
That involved an Ayla bug. Though described as small, because Ayla was such a massive entity, not only did Luna fix it that night, but the entire team spent a full week just tracing the origin of the error.
In fact, Ayla possessing rudimentary consciousness had always brought Luna the greatest comfort, as Ayla would autonomously patch her own glitches.
If Ayla had simply been a standard AI, and Luna had brought it over from Earth, let alone its subsequent evolution, merely managing its bugs would have driven her to self-termination.
These thoughts rushed through Luna's mind as her eyelids began to drift shut.
She believed she was about to die.
This felt like a classic life flashing before her eyes scenario.
Her eyes completely closed, plunging her into absolute darkness.
But very quickly, she realized this state was profoundly different from sleep.
During true sleep, a being cannot self-feel, nor can it perceive the passage of time.
Now, Luna could feel. She knew she existed within an infinite blackness.
This was the second time she had encountered this specific sensation.
The first instance occurred immediately after she had assimilated the old memories.
"So, after dragging us into the dream plane, they don't intend to terminate us right away?"
Last time, she had voluntarily entered that dimension. At that juncture, the opposing Civilization reacted with blinding speed; from her initial entry to her demise, it was certainly no more than half a minute.
This time, the adversary had actively pulled them into this construct. Luna understood that logically, she should have been instantly erased.
Yet, she wasn't.
She perceived neither the enemy nor any subsequent attacks.
"Perhaps this is merely an intermediate layer? Will they only act once we truly enter the main dreamscape?"
Luna cautiously speculated.
She calculated the approximate time difference.
Last time, she must have waited at least ten minutes before the final transition into the actual dream.
She might still hold a sliver of hope for survival.
"But within the dream, I possess nothing."
"This is my dream. Perhaps I can manifest objects here."
Luna remembered countless conceptual explanations: in one's personal dream, anything imagined could be instantly materialized.
She quickly tested this principle and found it to be true.
She could obtain things. Following her mental visualization, light illuminated the darkness around her, and a structure—a room—appeared.
Even an entire world manifested.
"Perhaps this isn't the pathway to the dreamscape, but rather my own self-contained dream."
Luna felt a surge of joy; she at least possessed a fighting chance.
By simply imagining an ultimate, all-powerful entity, she could attack, destroy, perhaps even defeat that formidable seven-dimensional Civilization.
This thought had barely formed when her imagined reality violently shattered.
Because she discovered her power of imagination was acutely feeble; it crumbled at the slightest pressure.
The underlying issue was that the atomic interactions within her imagined constructs were imperfectly realized.
This realization frustrated Luna immensely.
Theoretically, even when dreaming, the manifestation required a robust, underlying logical framework to be successfully implemented; otherwise, anything conjured would instantly resolve into useless abstraction.
"Then I shall simply embrace oblivion!"
Luna chose to relinquish the fight.