Helion Fleet.
Propeller.
This warship earned its name because it closely resembled a massive rotor. Its hull was coated in a metallic green, a shimmering hue like that of a forest fly, yet far more magnificent.
This finish was not merely decorative; it provided powerful electromagnetic shielding. The vessel was engineered to endure a decade in temperatures reaching 15 million degrees Celsius.
Binom was still deep in his battlefield analysis.
The M36 star cluster was currently under siege. However, because the void of interstellar space was so vast, the enemy could not possibly jam all frequencies. To block every signal across light-years would consume an impossible amount of energy, making it unsustainable in deep space.
Consequently, they still received data from the M36 star cluster. Based on these updates, they would fine-tune their strategies.
Binom was obsessively refining his plan.
He would not permit himself to fail again.
At that moment, an officer approached to report on internal fleet matters.
While the enemy's movements were critical, internal stability was equally vital. Only a disciplined fleet could seize victory, and this time, Binom settled for nothing less than perfection.
As the officer detailed the rise of a new cult within the ranks, Binom turned to him. "Are the followers of this sect becoming too numerous?"
"Do you have the specifics?"
The officer replied, "Indeed, their numbers are high, and they are spreading rapidly."
"From what I have gathered, someone has poured significant capital into this. It has allowed many raw recruits to obtain gene-modifying drugs."
"Some of my own subordinates have joined this Heavenly Spirit Sect. My observations show they have gained some rudimentary gene pool abilities. They aren't particularly powerful, only boosting their physical attributes by two or three times."
A gene pool that only tripled physical strength was a bottom-tier product.
Binom possessed a gene pool himself, but it was nothing advanced. In a high-intensity conflict like this, it was practically useless.
Truly elite gene pools were guarded by the core nations of the Twenty-Eight Nations Covenant and the Federation. Their own Ynun Star Nation lacked the infrastructure to innovate in the biological field.
Although they could manufacture low-level sequences, the market was flooded with superior products from the Federation. It was simply more profitable to buy from them than to build their own.
This dynamic meant they could never accumulate the capital needed to jumpstart their own biotechnology.
The financial cost to develop a combat-ready gene pool was staggering. Even Flaorse couldn't stomach the price. Before a product could even be sold, it required decades of investment: a literal money pit.
It was the same for any technology.
In the early stages of industrial growth, demand was so high that even mediocre products yielded massive profits. That wealth was then reinvested to attract more funding.
But eventually, as markets matured, those huge profits would drop below 10% due to fierce competition. Some companies even survived on a mere 5% margin by selling in massive volumes.
How could a new company survive in that environment?
With a mature supply chain, they might have a chance, but they had none. The Ynun Star Nation would have to build a supply chain from scratch before they could even assemble a single dose.
For the Federation, developing a high-level gene series might cost 1 trillion Energy Credits.
For the Ynun Star Nation, it would cost 100 trillion or more.
And what was the return?
The gene pool market was already a "red ocean." Low-tier products had a 7% profit margin, while high-tier ones capped at 20%.
Theoretically, a 1 trillion investment would return 1.2 trillion in revenue, leaving 200 billion in profit.
But for Ynun, a 100 trillion investment would still only return that same 1.2 trillion in revenue. The result was a net loss of 98.8 trillion. The more they invested, the more they lost, because the market cap was fixed. They couldn't sell more than the market could absorb.
Through these first-mover advantages, the Federation had long ago choked the life out of the surrounding nations.
To Binom, this type of "investment" wasn't rare.
During war, soldiers faced extreme mental strain and sought out these cults for comfort. It was a perfect time for opportunists to capitalize.
Once the war ended and the soldiers returned home, a few would remain loyal. This provided a foundation to amass wealth quickly through sheer numbers.
These were usually the schemes of major families.
Yet, few ever truly succeeded.
Upon returning to civilian life, most soldiers abandoned their cults. Only a handful ever stayed.
Still, there were always those who tried.
"Are they sabotaging the army's morale?" Binom asked.
The officer considered this for a moment.
"To a degree, yes, but it isn't critical yet."
"Because these gene pools offer special perks, they are highly seductive to the troops. I've seen their 'miracles': a type of incomplete bodily energy-ization. It isn't powerful; it's more like a parlor trick."
Binom showed a flicker of interest.
"So, it isn't a simple gene pool after all."
"The costs for such things are steep. Likely some failed researchers convinced themselves that their lack of results was just a lack of funding."
"I know some of the old guard still chase these fantasies. It's a common delusion."
"But they have forgotten one fundamental rule: within this military, no organization other than the military itself is permitted to exist. That is an absolute principle."
"Since you find them tolerable for now, we will wait. Once we breach the M36 star cluster, they will no longer be necessary."
"Continue your report."
The officer proceeded with the internal summary.
...
On the other side, Gachi felt a growing unease that the fleet's high command might suddenly intervene.
The commotion this time was simply too massive to ignore. Had it been a smaller affair, it might have slipped under the radar, but his upbringing in a prominent Federation family gave him a clear understanding of the risks. To the military, a cult of this scale was nothing more than a suitable heresy that had to be eradicated.
This was his primary fear after receiving the plan: a total failure at the very first stage.
Mingna, however, remained indifferent. Perhaps she had other methods in play, or maybe his current pawn was merely a bit of seasoning for the larger battlefield. He couldn't guess the thoughts of a Divine, nor could he violate her will. This was why, despite his lingering worries, he remained at his post, executing every order.
He had watched the development of the Heavenly Spirit Sect with constant vigilance, yet luckily, nothing had gone wrong so far.
"The Strategos of this fleet is named Binom, a legendary officer of the Ynun Star Nation," Gachi mused.
In the two previous campaigns against the Saintees Star Nation, Binom had bravely repelled the invaders both times. For a Xenian to reach such a rank meant he possessed abilities beyond imagination.
The Ynun Star Nation had once been much weaker than the Saintees Star Nation. However, after Binom halted their expansion twice, the national power of the Saintees faded and has yet to recover. Gachi knew these details because he had been operating nearby since entering Hyperdimensional Space, frequently receiving missions in the real world. His presence in this sector was his own initiative.
Having participated in those wars, Gachi understood Binom's capabilities perfectly. He had also heard the stories of Luna, the CEO of Supernova Technology Corporation, who was described as an almost perfect individual.
Gachi doubted that a truly perfect person existed. He was genuinely shocked to hear that Luna had defeated Binom. A corporate CEO toppling a legendary wartime figure? It was like a racing champion switching careers and immediately winning a cycling championship—completely unimaginable.
Yet, it had happened. Gachi wasn't sure if Luna was simply too strong or if Binom had been overestimated, but none of that truly mattered to him now.
As a resident of Hyperdimensional Space, he hadn't matured enough to access that level of intel. He only knew the rumors, not the specific details. Besides, the core of this war was the intervention of Divines. In Gachi's mind, Binom stood no chance against a Divine.
A Divine is a Divine, and a person is a person. They cannot be compared. It wasn't just a fundamental difference in nature, but a massive disparity in experience. How many battles had Binom fought? A dozen? Two dozen?
Divines accumulated thousands of missions and possessed an inherent Divine strength that was terrifying. To Gachi, a Divine represented the absolute pinnacle of individual strength. Combined with their experience, a single Divine could face an entire fleet. This belief was deeply ingrained in Hyperdimensional Space; no one knew of any power capable of defeating a Divine.
This was the source of Gachi's confidence.
"Chant with me," he commanded.
"Oh, Divine, I pray to you! Grant me great power, bless me with eternity. Keep danger far and bring wealth near. In exchange for my faith, grant me wisdom and destiny."
"Oh, Divine, have mercy on your children! Let death be unable to shatter us, and send ill fortune toward the enemy."
Gachi organized the ritual. Over time, his chants had become refined, carrying a touch of desire that lulled the others into a devout state. Devotion led to relaxation, and relaxation made them easier to infiltrate, both physically and mentally.
While Divine power was supplemented by the main server, it did not originate entirely from there. Many elements were visceral and real.
Take the initial liquid, for example. It was never just plain water; it contained Gachi's blood. This blood could alter genes and strengthen an individual, but it came at a price: the individual would be possessed by the blood itself.
Blood was the origin of the Bloodline. Mingna had opened Gachi's skin, altered his blood, and branded him with the Divine Seal.
Each Divine's seal was unique. As the Spirit King Mingna, her power was rooted in blood. The Divine Seal altered the very genes of the host. Gachi believed the time was right. With a threshold of 10 million people, he could open everything. It was enough.
"Oh Divine, please grant me wonder."
The final prayer was complete. Gachi addressed the thousand people in the cabin. "Today ends here. I believe you can feel your own sublimation. Divine power has descended. You are now connected to the Divine realm, and it is watching every one of you."
Someone spoke up, "This seems different from before. Don't we revere the Energy Buddha? How has it become a Divine?"
The others shared the doubt.
"Buddha is Divine. Divine is Buddha. The Buddha has myriad forms, and the Divine is the primordial one among them. There are many doctrines you don't yet understand, but I will explain them in time."
Gachi, encased in his mecha, felt mysterious and unfathomable. The believers didn't press him. To them, it was just a game. They suspected Gachi was merely building anticipation, like a reader immersed in a novel.
They left one by one, unaware that Gachi had already activated the Bloodline within them.
Watching them retreat, Gachi walked toward another location. He had already implicated the ship's captain, deceiving him into disregarding his own identity.
...
Captain's quarters.
Gachi walked in.
After a brief exchange, Gachi presented his request.
"I want to try piloting a fighter jet."
"In war, individual strength is pitifully weak, even with a Divine's blessing. But a jet can combine with that power to make me even stronger."
"I need it to be unique."
The Captain didn't know Gachi's true identity, but he suspected Gachi came from an influential family or a powerful sect.
In short, he was someone worth relying on.
Because of this, the Captain satisfied Gachi's request almost unconditionally.
"No problem, Messenger."
"I can reserve a fighter for you. If you don't know how to fly it, I can arrange for an instructor."
Not everyone was born to be a pilot.
Even soldiers were strictly divided by their branches.
Gachi indicated it wasn't necessary.
"I already know how to fly. I want to board today. Is that a problem?"
The Captain felt a moment of difficulty.
The personnel assignments were already locked in.
But it wasn't impossible to fix: he just needed the right incentive.
"Don't worry. After the war ends, I can arrange for your discharge and you can claim this."
Gachi handed him a small metal carving, something he had crafted recently.
The Captain took it, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "No problem. A simple swap is all it takes. The system will still show the original pilot's ID. You have many followers, and I'm sure one of them would be happy to give up their seat for you."
Everything was arranged perfectly.
Gachi successfully boarded the fighter jet.
But he wasn't there for a training mission.
It was time to vanish.
The roots had already been planted.
Now, the explosion was beginning.
He couldn't afford to waste a single second.
If he was even one step late, they would shoot him down before he could clear the hangar.
The fighter launched.
At that exact moment, Gachi received a notification.
[Killed enemy: 1]
...
[Detected 1 death, location: cabin 299, deceased: Interratisod]
The Captain received the news the second the fighter departed.
His face turned pale.
In this era, dying of natural causes was practically unheard of.
This message meant only two things: suicide or murder.
"Investigate the cause of death immediately."
The ship lacked a main server, so the Captain dispatched a security team to the site.
When they forced open the hatch of cabin 299, the sight froze them in their tracks.
The entire cabin was choked with branches. Lush green leaves had turned the room into a miniature forest. The withered remains of the deceased soldier were tangled in the center, still wearing his mecha.
As the door opened, thick roots began to crawl out, trying to spread into the corridor.
The soldiers reacted instantly, firing their lasers to incinerate the organic growth.
Anxiety and dread filled the air.
No one understood what had happened.
How did a man turn into a tree?
"Report this to the top. It might be some kind of genetic virus."
They didn't dare wait. They sent the report to the main server, which immediately relayed the data to Binom.
The moment Binom saw the file, he dropped everything.
"Find the culprit."
"We can't let morale collapse now. I suspect this won't be the only death."
A cold sense of foreboding settled in his chest.
He had never felt this way before. Since his last failure, he had developed a strange intuition.
It wasn't exactly a power, but a heightened sensitivity—a baseline of deep suspicion.
Usually, this kind of paranoia was useless. A person might fear getting hit by a car every time they go out, but when nothing happens, the fear fades.
However, if that person actually gets hit, the shadow stays forever. Decades later, they would still fear the road.
That was the scientific explanation.
But sometimes, paranoia is the only thing that keeps you alive.
Especially when the impossible happens.
Like now.
Binom was terrified that this would spiral out of control.
His fears were justified.
Very quickly, a second body was found. The symptoms were identical: the man had become a tree.
"Who is doing this?"
"Is it a spy?"
Infiltrating the enemy ranks was standard procedure. Binom didn't believe that among a hundred million soldiers, there wasn't a single mole.
A spy acting now was clearly trying to break their rhythm.
He had to catch them.
But as the investigation deepened, the numbers grew.
It started with a few. Then, it suddenly spiked to over a hundred.
The deaths were concentrated on a single ship.
Binom dug into the records and found connections he had overlooked.
That specific ship was holding the captured Saintees Star Nation soldier. It was also the exact location where the Heavenly Spirit Sect had first appeared. This was no coincidence.
"Where is that Saintees soldier?"
The main server pulled up the surveillance feed for Binom.
The footage showed the prisoner locked in his cell, never having left.
Binom hesitated.
Could it really be a coincidence?
"What's the name of the soldier who started the Heavenly Spirit Sect?"
The main server pulled the data from the mecha's serial number.
[Masillo, 8273 years old, from the Binsaimajia Family, a collateral branch, no notable reputation.]
The Binsaimajia Family.
Binom didn't recognize the name.
He pulled their file.
The family was tiny, with barely 400 members. Their business was general trading, small-time deals with no real power. They lacked the resources to fund or develop a cult.
Several members of the Binsaimajia Family were also serving in the fleet.
Binom located these individuals directly. When they heard that Masillo was the sect leader of the Heavenly Spirit Sect, their shock was visible and clearly genuine.
According to their accounts, Masillo was the definition of ordinary, possessing a remarkably narrow social circle. His enlistment had been entirely orchestrated by his family.
"Is it possible he was turned into a spy?" Binom asked the group.
He had the main server retrieve the mecha data for several people to make an assessment. He only posed this question after concluding they were unlikely to be plants themselves.
"Highly improbable."
"Masillo always stayed close to home; he never once left the family circle."
Upon hearing this, Binom's first instinct was that the family itself was compromised.
But another suspicion lingered.
Why would the enemy choose someone so unremarkable for espionage? His capabilities seemed mediocre at best. Did Masillo possess some hidden, extraordinary quality?
Binom was completely at a loss.
That was, until the investigation made a breakthrough.
The Captain of the ship had no idea of Masillo's true face. Onboard, Masillo seemingly never removed his mecha.
In reality, most soldiers avoided wearing mechas inside the ship because they were cumbersome and inconvenient.
There was a more critical detail: before becoming the leader of the Heavenly Spirit Sect, Masillo rarely wore his mecha at all.
Why the sudden change?
Was Masillo hiding his identity, or was the man in the suit not Masillo at all?
"Is anyone missing from the ship's manifest?"
Binom felt the situation growing increasingly bizarre. Where had the breach occurred?
"No one!"
The answer was definitive and unanimous.
Binom had the main server analyze the ship's internal logs. He discovered that Masillo's mecha had lost its communication link on the very first day of proselytization. Theoretically, that suit was nothing more than an empty shell.
Furthermore, Masillo had not accessed the ship's internal network once since then.
"This is not Masillo!" Binom was now certain.
But if it wasn't him, who was behind the mask?
While Binom weighed this, the soldier sent to track Masillo reported back. The Captain stated that before the first death occurred, Masillo had already fled the ship in a fighter jet.
Binom instantly connected the dots.
"The culprit is him!"
Initially, the murder investigation had simply stumbled upon the oddities of the Heavenly Spirit Sect and the man known as Masillo.
Binom hadn't linked the two. Even the theory of Masillo being a spy was still debatable.
But the timing was too perfect for Binom to ignore.
Just then, a soldier who had infiltrated the Heavenly Spirit Sect reported the sect's inner workings.
The word spirit appeared constantly.
In their doctrine, spirit meant energy, but Binom sensed a deeper layer: spirit represented a form of nature.
"The most primitive form of nature refers to the environment: forests and plants."
"Trees..."
It all began to fit together.
Binom knew the theory felt forced, and he needed hard evidence.
He didn't have to wait long.
Every single victim was a member of the Heavenly Spirit Sect. Furthermore, they had all undergone a specific ritual before they died.
"The problem lies within this ritual."
"Masillo used it to poison their bodies. It might not even be limited to the ritual; everyone who joined that sect might have their bodies..."
Binom trailed off. He suddenly froze.
Just yesterday, he had heard that the Heavenly Spirit Sect's following had surpassed ten million.
He hadn't cared at the time. The rapid growth of a cult was common. Eventually, as the false promises faded, the rational minds would leave. A cult might spike to 100 million members before stabilizing at a few thousand. It was a standard cycle.
But now, a different fear took hold.
"Does every member of the Heavenly Spirit Sect receive genetic modification?"
Following this question, a soldier standing before him—a believer himself—seemed to realize something. "It appears so!"
They had never questioned it before. But looking back now, it was a glaring anomaly.
Ten million people.
If every single one received genetic modification, the investment would be astronomical. It was completely beyond reason.
100,000 was a standard baseline. 500,000 was a massive investment. One million was considered the absolute limit.
Ten million? Only a handful of the most powerful families could command such numbers.
Binom's earlier lack of concern was because he knew large families often boosted military spending. Ten million believers didn't shock him because he assumed only 500,000 had actually received the gene-modding drugs.
But now, he learned there were ten million doses. These weren't cheap boosters either. No major family would waste such resources on a single experiment.
The only entity capable of such an investment was the enemy.
In wartime, the cost of ten million doses was relatively low when compared to the price of a fleet. Billions of Energy Credits for a war was only worth a few dozen ships. If that same money could secure a victory from within, it was the most practical choice.
Thinking of this, Binom could barely suppress his rage.
This massive subversion had gone totally unnoticed. Now, he was left to clean up the wreckage after the damage was done.
If he had to handle every detail, what was the point of the Commanders and Captains?
He had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.
"Compile a list of every member of the Heavenly Spirit Sect."
"Take a sample group for study. I want to see exactly what genetic changes have occurred."
"Freeze everyone else. No one moves until we have analyzed their genes."
"Also, track Masillo's location. See if he can be intercepted."
Binom moved with lethal speed, issuing orders.
In a normal society, ten million compromised citizens out of a billion would trigger an unstoppable collapse.
But this was the military. Every soldier was under his thumb.
Although they believed in the Heavenly Spirit Sect, it was ultimately just recreational. In this modern era, true religions had ceased to exist.
Binom's orders met no resistance.
All soldiers entered the cryosleep chambers in an orderly fashion.
These chambers came in various forms.
For instance, to enter a virtual world, only the brain remains active while the body is frozen. The chamber then feeds energy to the brain. For creatures without a brain, it supplies neuro-nutrients directly. The effect is identical.
Those not entering a virtual world can still keep their brains active to induce dreams. This prevents the unsettling sensation of seeing countless years pass in a single instant. Many people intensely dislike that feeling.
Of course, the most standard method is full-body cryopreservation. This maintains every cell in its original state for future revival.
Current technology can freeze a human body to a temperature near absolute zero. The difference is detectable only at 57 decimal places.
Even with future development, one can only push the decimals further. Truly reaching absolute zero is impossible. Like the speed of light, it is a fundamental rule of the universe that cannot be broken.
Below such temperatures, no biological processes can function.
After resolving the immediate crisis, they turned to the genetic puzzle.
Most Divine Seal objects were simulated by the main server, but the server required realism. They were not impossible to eliminate.
If they could find a way to alter the genes while maintaining stability, the Divine Seal could be wiped out instantly.
However, this required a powerful foundation in biological science.
After fruitlessly searching for Masillo and researching for three months, Binom received a report.
"Our deep research into the genetic modification shows this gene destroys all their amino acids. They have been transformed into a completely new nitrogenous base life form. It is an entirely different system."
"To change it, we would have to replace their entire bodies. This requires consciousness extraction technology, which we do not have."
Consciousness extraction sounded like a high-tier concept.
A hundred thousand years ago, perhaps it was.
But now, this tech was commonplace. Many virtual world servers used it.
However, their fleet was not equipped with it.
"Why, of all things, is it this?"
A tiny oversight, no larger than an ant's nose, plunged them back into a predicament.
Ten million people trapped in this state was not a major logistical concern for the fleet, but the impact on morale was enormous.
The excellent atmosphere they once enjoyed vanished overnight, reverting to a state of despair.
Fortunately, their fundamental integrity remained untouched.
It was a blessing in disguise.
"Put this aside for now. Keep those soldiers frozen. Notify the star nation to dispatch ships to retrieve them. Put them on a single ship so ordinary citizens aren't affected."
"The entire unit is to enter a state of alert. All warships are on standby. Do not allow the enemy to launch another assault."
Binom's precautions were stretched to the limit. He refused to repeat his previous mistakes.
...
Far away, Gachi looked at his mission log and smiled.
He considered this a victory.
Originally, he prepared to return to Hyperdimensional Space immediately. His work was done.
But this time, he was bold.
He gambled that the Helion fleet could not catch him.
He didn't move toward the M36 star cluster, but toward the Ynun Star Nation.
This increased the gap between them at a speed exceeding 250,000 km per second. From that angle, it was nearly impossible for the enemy to use main-cannon weapons to strike him.
He won.
He looked forward to what this beginning would bring.
The power of a Divine needed no explanation.
But Divine might was more than just raw force.
"They should have passed the first stage by now. I wonder if the next explosion will break that legendary figure. The war against Rusty has already drained him."
He cut the boost and diverted his fighter jet, making a wide detour toward the M36 star cluster.
...
"This was just a small experiment."
"You made your first mistake by choosing so openly."
"Truly weak."
"The world calls you a legend. The king of the Ynun Star Nation defied everyone to put you on a throne."
"But you have forgotten you are just a scholar trapped in a corner. In a village, you are the wisest. But once you enter the city, look around: the dark-skinned peddlers on the street might have also passed the imperial exams once."
"You are a frog in a well."
"You are trash..."
Binom leaped out of a pool of water.
Exhaustion had finally overtaken him.
He had wanted to drift into a beautiful dream.
He didn't know when he fell asleep, but the nightmare found him.
In the dream, the slowness of his actions was a mockery.
He had returned to the front a hundred times more confident, thinking he was beyond error. He hadn't expected another disaster to strike.
His mind drifted to his past.
Luna had left a shadow on his soul that would never fade.
After waking, Binom carefully re-examined the problem. He realized he hadn't followed one lead to its end.
He immediately called for an officer.
"Was there anything unusual about that prisoner from the Saintees Star Nation?"
Because of the crisis with the Heavenly Spirit Sect, he hadn't thought about Masillo for nearly six months.
But if Masillo wasn't actually Masillo, but someone else...
Where did that person come from?
An ordinary soldier wouldn't need to hide their identity.
The only reason to hide was to prevent anyone from knowing who he truly was. He might not even be part of the fleet.
So who was he?
And when did all of this truly begin?
Binom finally saw it: that Saintees Star Nation soldier was the key. It was far too suspicious for everything to converge on a single vessel.
He had checked the soldier earlier and found him secured in his cell, appearing perfectly normal. That brief glance had caused him to unconsciously dismiss the threat.
Now, as the memory resurfaced, the suspicion gnawed at him with fresh intensity.
"No movement at all. He has been silent in his cell. Since he is fully restrained, he cannot shift an inch or utter a single sound."
The report showed zero abnormalities.
The interrogated guard looked at Binom with confusion. It was clear the man hadn't connected the recent chaos to the Saintees Star Nation prisoner.
It felt normal.
But it was too normal.
What was the true purpose behind that soldier's appearance?
"Order his release immediately. I need to analyze his condition. I might be able to extract critical intelligence from him."
As the words left his mouth, Binom felt a wave of uncertainty.
Gachi's performance earlier had been flawless.
That sharp vigilance, that simmering resentment.
It was identical to the original.
It was the kind of act that made a lie feel impossible.
This was a deep deception.
When the man was locked away, Binom realized it was likely another layer of the trap.
It was a trap designed to make the captor feel in control. People naturally underestimate what they believe they have mastered; human focus is a finite resource.
Binom recognized a massive flaw within the ranks: the soldiers were disciplined, yet they functioned more like machines than men.
Strict, punitive regulations crushed any individual initiative.
This had turned the military into a rigid, inflexible structure.
In such a system, the most extraordinary events could pass by unnoticed.
Binom now suspected that the man in the cell was no longer the original prisoner.
The thought had only struck him ten minutes ago.
Suddenly, a transmission from the ship flashed across his auxiliary brain system.
The data was blunt:
The prisoner was dead!
"Impossible! Run a genetic scan immediately."
Binom's heart turned cold. His instincts were right; that soldier was the source of the infection.
He could have handled this with more caution.
Curiosity.
A minor tactical advantage.
These things had blinded him.
"How could I let this happen? What is wrong with me?" Binom was spiraling into self-doubt.
He had always been a master of strategy.
Now, he felt utterly powerless.
It seemed as though every move he made resulted in another loss.
This constant failure left him drained, bordering on absolute despair.
Fortunately, his internal resolve held firm.
These setbacks weren't enough to break him instantly.
"The War hasn't even truly started!"
"This time, I will not lose."
He forced the words out, his voice thick with a new, grim determination.
...
The Fourth Fleet was currently transiting the M36 Star Cluster.
Mingna reclined lazily on her sofa, her body bare and her form perfectly revealed in the dim light.
A notification pulsed in her field of vision.
Giotto and Toma K had arrived at the front, intending to take command.
A smile bloomed on her face at the news. She even made her way to the command deck to review the tactical details personally.
The crew on the bridge looked stunned to see her in such a high spirit.
In their experience, Mingna was rarely this joyful.
But those who truly knew her understood this wasn't joy: it was pure mockery.
She was well aware of Giotto and Toma K's limitations.
On a battlefield of this scale, those two were nothing short of a walking catastrophe.
She felt vindicated in her own choices.
Their arrival would only make things more difficult for the other Divines.
Divines were bound by their missions; they would be forced to follow the lead of those two fools.
Earlier, Mingna had been fuming because four other Divines had stolen her glory and even charged her a transit fee. While she wasn't pouting, the anger had soured her mood.
Now, she was radiant.
The burden was on them.
Here, she was positioned for a massive harvest.
As long as Gachi could successfully infiltrate the enemy fleet, the plan was practically guaranteed.
Was Gachi actually powerful?
Mingna didn't know, and frankly, she didn't care.
This was just another one of her high-stakes gambles.
If it failed, it failed.
If it worked, she won the jackpot.
"It is a shame this isn't the main front. I cannot see the enemy's movements."
Mingna felt a twinge of regret.
It wasn't a regret concerning the War, but rather her own dark entertainment. She wanted to witness the expressions of despair on the enemy's faces; that would have been the ultimate prize.
"In the real world, Faith is a useless metric."
"If this were a virtual simulation in Hyperdimensional Space, and my power was sufficient, I could use Divine Descent on every believer in the universe. I could force my consciousness into their bodies simultaneously. That would be true ecstasy."
"It is a pity we are confined to reality."
The thought made her irritable.
What if the enemy surrendered too early?
The greatest thrill would vanish.
The mission would simply end in a boring paperwork exercise.
"Sigh, I should have just gone myself."
All her dark ambitions finally dissolved into a long, regretful sigh.
...
Helion Fleet.
Binom was agonizing.
In truth, processing such a staggering volume of data was never meant for the human mind. Most people lacked the raw talent for it; they were stuck in single-core, single-thread thinking.
It wasn't a total exaggeration.
But it wasn't far from the truth either.
The truly gifted could juggle mountains of information, using it to build logical deductions that made ordinary people look like they belonged to a primitive era.
With such a massive gap in inherent intelligence, they were practically different species.
Binom was one of those gifted few.
If he weren't, he never would have attained this rank.
Yet, even he reached his limit. He relied heavily on the Main Server. It provided endless streams of data, but none of it led to a concrete prediction. Every piece of feedback from the Main Server was just another question, which only added to his mental burden.
Being a Fleet Commander was a thankless, grueling task.
He tried to tell himself that the enemy must be suffering just as much, rotting their brains over every possible counter-move. That thought offered a sliver of comfort.
Ultimately, however, it was just self-delusion.
He remembered Duming's advice: do not overestimate the enemy.
Right now, that felt like total nonsense.
The enemy might not be "stronger" in a fair fight.
But the enemy had been Prepared for a long time. They could spend months perfecting a single trap, while he, as the defender, had to react in seconds. That was the curse of being passive.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he had lost the initiative again.
He hated it.
It made him feel like a common soldier, not a legendary Officer.
"The enemy made their move. According to Duming, it should be over—their goal was just to cause chaos."
"But they prepared for so long; would they settle for mere disruption? No. They must have a deeper plan."
This was the thought circling Binom's mind.
He had already transferred the Heavenly Spirit Sect believers to dozens of ships and ordered them to decelerate. They were long gone from his sensors.
Still, a cold worry lingered in his chest.
He asked, "Has the soldier's body been disposed of?"
The Main Server responded.
[Soldier Daji has exiled the remains into interstellar space per your directive. Note: This is the 4th time you have asked this. You should consider psychological counseling.]
"Is that so?"
Binom didn't even have a faint memory of asking before.
"Forget the counseling programs. I was just preoccupied."
"Main Server, do you calculate a follow-up plan from the enemy?"
[Analysis suggests a 13.22% probability of a subsequent enemy move. This is considered a high-risk percentage.]
The Main Server's logic was cold and mathematical.
But it mirrored Binom's own fear.
"Main Server, run a total audit of the entire Fleet. Every soldier must undergo a full medical screening. Leave no corner unchecked."
Binom shifted his entire focus away from the external war and poured it into the internal security of the Fleet.
He had to find the enemy's next move before it strangled him.
The Main Server began a massive, year-long inspection.
As the months ticked by, Binom grew more restless.
His mind swung like a pendulum.
There is definitely a trap.
There is no trap at all.
The two possibilities tore at him.
In this period, he finally realized his own limitations. He was still just a man.
He couldn't find peace.
He had never been this conflicted.
The enemy's ploy was a needle buried deep in his chest.
One year later.
The Main Server reported that absolutely nothing had been found.
Binom forced himself to calm down. He decided to accept the Main Server's verdict and stop the mental torture.
"Resume the course."
"Return to the original training schedule."
Binom was a decisive man by nature; he had always worked as a lone wolf. But he saw the flaws in that now. It was too dangerous.
The Fleet needed a high-level council, like a true Grand Fleet.
He realized he barely spoke to his Captains.
This was a political issue.
The Ynun Star Nation was a mess of factions. These Captains didn't necessarily respect his authority. When Duming was alive, his dominance kept them in line.
Because of the internal politics of the Star Nation, the Flaorse Corporation was a power everyone tried to suck up to. Everyone showed a friendly face to Duming, regardless of their faction.
There was a reason the Winunder fleet had two high-ranking Officers.
Duming's talent was undeniable.
It was just a tragedy he made the same mistake everyone makes.
For example, most orders were funneled through the Main Server. This stopped the Captains from talking back, but it also killed the Fleet's unity.
He wanted to change things, even if it meant a political uphill battle.
From what he could see, the current enemy would be even more ruthless than the last. Any gap he left would be the grave for them all.
...
Helion Fleet.
A Kindred-class ship.
This ship was easy to spot: a jade-green border, one meter thick, lined the edges of its two massive wings.
The ship was bulky in the center and tapered at the sides. From the front, the central hull looked like the character "工". The wings stretched out from that center line, making it look like the character "王".
It was a standard vessel in the Helion Fleet.
The interior was equally unremarkable.
The scandal of the Heavenly Spirit Sect hadn't spread far; it only affected 1% of the crew.
In a ship of tens of thousands, who cared about a few hundred missing souls?
But the rumors were terrifying. Every soldier lived in fear that they would be the next to vanish.
The cryo-frozen victims had been hauled away. Now, the empty cabins needed to be scrubbed for new occupants.
Yanke had the bad luck of being assigned to the cleaning detail.
She entered the room, her gear sealed tight.
No one was 100% sure if a Virus still lingered in the air.
Even though the Flaorse Corporation were masters of the Virus, they couldn't neutralize everything—especially biological variants, which weren't their specialty.
The room was surprisingly clean.
In this age, people didn't own much. Mechas had self-cleaning cycles, so showers were a relic of the past. Internal Robots handled all waste decomposition, so toilets weren't needed. No one had to sleep, but if they wanted to, the Mecha provided warmth and forced Cryosleep. The Auxiliary Brain handled the entertainment.
Only a few personal items were left behind.
Then, she found a Notebook.
It shocked her.
It seemed this soldier was an enthusiast for physical objects.
Modern humans virtualized everything. Those who preferred physical items that had long been replaced by digital ones were called "Physicalists."
She picked up the Notebook and idly flipped through the pages...