Aboard the ship, within a silent room.
The soldier Yanke scanned the surviving notes.
"Everyone thinks this is just a game. It is a simple trick, exactly like the old days: they lure us with valuable items to make us join, then use our numbers to hook investors. We sacrifice our time, but we expect a return."
"The mechanics of this game are too archaic. I have seen this a thousand times. I am almost starting to doubt if any enlightened Divines actually walk this world."
"But it is real. I know it, and I am certain others do as well. When I prayed, it answered my plea."
"That sensation, many mistake it for being watched, but it is truly the gaze of a Divine."
"This universe runs on a fixed logic. It is too perfect, from the microscopic to the vast macroscopic scale, as if every detail is the result of meticulous craftsmanship."
"What if the entire universe was truly constructed by a Divine?"
"Who is that Divine?"
"It is the Energy Buddha."
"Otherwise, I truly cannot fathom anything else possessing such immense power!"
"Others believe the strength we gained came from gene-modifying drugs, but they are wrong. I was suspicious from the start. I refuse to accept anything I do not understand, so I never touched the drug. I sealed my mouth with a thin film. There is no way a single drop of that substance touched me."
"And yet, I still gained abilities."
"I swear, it did not enter through my skin, because I was encased in a mecha."
"There is only one truth: this power originates from my faith. Yes, this is no hallucination."
"It is a miracle. It is powerful, and though it is hard to swallow, it truly exists."
"I am surging with excitement, yet I am paralyzed by fear. I am excited to have seen the truth of the universe, but I fear the current Civilization system will never acknowledge it. They will slap labels on it and call it a demon."
"The fleet high command, once they learn of this, will move. They will lock us up for research, or simply plan to wipe us out."
"We cannot fight back, but the Divine has always watched over us. The Divine will not permit its believers to perish. We will endure, passing through every era, until the Divine's light covers the entire Civilization, and we are finally liberated."
"..."
In the early entries.
What Yanke read in the notebook was nothing but fanatical faith.
Until a specific point, where the entries turned cold with terror.
"They found out. I knew they would."
"They are coming for me. I cannot resist. I do not yet have the strength. I cannot grasp the Divine's deeper purpose. The Divine's gaze has not yet reached this corner of the dark."
"But the Divine power is manifesting inside me. I will become all spirits, existing forever."
"I must find a way to hide. I can escape this place, but others will not be so lucky."
"The faith will not be crushed, but this will delay the dawn for our Civilization. Perhaps I can spark a change. No, we can."
"This notebook is not some Holy Scripture. it only records the truth."
"If you are a newcomer, remember: the Divine is real. It is the Energy Buddha. Just chant its name in your heart, and it will descend, granting you great power."
"Perhaps, you can become the Divine's servant. You will have everything you desire."
This was pure seduction.
Yanke could hear the twisted mindset of the author bleeding through these words.
He had been consumed by it.
There would always be people like this, treating the situation as if it were a literal game.
She felt nothing but disdain.
"With such pathetic self-control, it is no wonder they were played by a Heavenly Spirit Sect."
"Cults exist specifically to prey on people like that."
She stashed the notebook and found other items, like a jade pendant.
Etched inside the jade was a name.
Standard, cliché garbage.
Yanke had seen plenty of these trinkets back in the star nation; they were worthless.
Poor!
Ignorant!
Her image of the soldier who previously lived in this room was instantly set in stone.
After a thorough search, she moved to the next room.
On the metal wall, she spotted deep scratches.
"The Divine truly exists!"
Those few words forced her to see the terrifying reach of this faith once again.
"A person should maintain rational, critical thought. If you do not understand it, and you do not doubt it, it simply does not exist."
"But if you allow yourself to believe, then a total, unstoppable descent begins."
"A poor wretch."
She scrubbed the wall clean.
This kind of stuff was a total drain on her sanity.
She kept collecting and cleaning.
It took eighty-three hours to finish the job.
"Good thing there weren't more idiots, or I would never be done."
"Actually, if there were that many, we wouldn't be heading to the front. We would just turn around and wait for the end."
Yanke checked the time: 6 PM. A perfect time for a drink.
Soldiers lived by a rigid schedule.
Training ran from midnight to 6 AM. Then, a rest from 6 AM to 8 AM, followed by more training until 2 PM. That made exactly twelve hours of active drills.
The training was focused: how to approach enemy warships, sneak inside, and plant viruses or explosives.
This was the only purpose for soldiers on the battlefield.
By throwing thousands or tens of thousands of them at a target, a single success meant a massive profit.
On the front lines, the lives of a million soldiers were worth one ship. Trading a million lives to take down a single vessel was seen as a win by the officers.
Every soldier knew they were at the bottom of the food chain, yet they stayed on the ship. They still went to the fight.
This wasn't because they had a death wish, or because they enjoyed being pawns.
It was compulsory.
During peace, soldiers had privileges in the star nation. It was a fair trade.
Most were just ordinary people, but by becoming soldiers, they gained a level of class mobility and certain rights.
And if they died, their families inherited those privileges to keep living.
Of course, in this era, people were selfish. Family was just a bonus. Mostly, it was about the "exchange."
You enjoy the peace, you fight the war.
These rules were handed down from the Federation.
Naturally, if they could avoid death, the high-ranking officers wouldn't waste soldiers, which is why the training was so intense.
Beyond the twelve hours of combat drills, there were six hours of theory.
That meant studying advanced military doctrine.
Classes ran from 3 PM to 6 PM, followed by an hour break, then continued from 7 PM to 10 PM.
From 10 PM until midnight, they had two hours of rest.
That was a soldier's day.
In reality, it was just a framework and often ignored. However, this fleet carried a vital mission and was led by the officers themselves. Within the Helion fleet, not a single session was ever skipped.
Yanke had been given a special task, which meant a half-day of rest.
But at 7 PM, she still had to attend the theory class, so there was no real break.
Still, compared to cleaning up cultist garbage, she preferred the classroom. It was mostly repetitive material, hammered into your skull until it stuck, so there was no need to actually study.
It was like school: the same lessons every week, for decades or centuries. Eventually, it became second nature. An instinct.
Instinct eventually led to mental exhaustion, but because it was so familiar, it became the status quo.
Like someone going to a job they hate: even if they are tired, they are too afraid to break away from the only life they know.
At this moment, Yanke could be said to be temporarily escaping the status quo. This didn't make her feel refreshed, but intensely uncomfortable.
After finishing her duties, she went straight to the ship's entertainment area. She used alcohol to drown out the unease, allowing herself to return to her original rhythm.
She preferred a specific kind of 96% methanol alcohol.
For early humans, this was highly toxic, a single sip meant a fatal end, and it was widely used in pesticides. But she was a new-era human; there was nothing she couldn't enjoy.
Many chemicals had become beverages in modern times. People enjoyed the pleasure of their bodies being damaged, much like eating spicy food where the painful sensation stimulates the nerves.
This methanol poison wine was called "pink sigh," carrying a hint of sweetness, though it tasted bitter once the realization hit.
It was very normal.
Due to natural evolution, organisms generally reject things that harm them. For example, when eating food, bitterness in 99% of cases indicates it is harmful to the body.
Hence, medicine is bitter.
And medicine is inherently toxic.
Most drugs cause some damage to the body.
The body can be likened to a battlefield. Viruses and drugs fight within the anatomy. Even if the drug wins, the battlefield is left desolate.
But fortunately, medicinal drugs do not continuously damage the body. Once the effects wear off, the human body begins to heal itself.
There is also a type of conditioning drug. These are basically food and medicine from the same source. Simply put, they are food, supplementing you with sugary drinks, protein, and other nutrients. They do not treat illness.
After drinking the next glass.
Yanke felt her esophagus rapidly corrode. The pain was like swallowing a handful of steel needles, making her whole body spasm.
But it was only for a fleeting moment, a mere shiver, and she recovered.
Because she was accustomed to drinking it.
This kind of pain was habitual for her.
The internal medical nanobots rapidly completed her body's repair. Simultaneously, they decomposed the methanol into various monatomic units. The useful parts were absorbed, and the useless parts were excreted.
Many alcohols of this era, if consumed by people from the Earth era, would lead to instant, fatal poisoning because the air itself contained strong toxins.
Methanol didn't just invade the esophagus; it permeated her nerves and brain, causing an instantaneous freeze, or, more directly, brain death.
Even a moment before brain death, Yanke's vision had already gone dark.
The remaining 4% of the "pink sigh" contained other highly toxic substances, accelerating the methanol's penetration into the nervous system.
Of course, these were all just momentary events.
Very quickly, Yanke recovered.
But she wasn't satisfied with that result. She retained a portion of the damage, allowing herself to enter an extreme state of pain-induced ecstasy. This was a form of self-mutilation.
In this era, it was very common.
People sought spiritual fulfillment. Everyone explored bizarre things to achieve a sense of euphoria. These sensations could last for hundreds of years, then gradually fade, after which they would seek new sources of bliss.
After continuously drinking several glasses of the toxic alcohol, Yanke's state became hazy.
Until 7 PM, the preset system in her body completely healed her. She then returned to her room, awaiting the invitation to the course.
The course was virtual, but not the kind that pulled consciousness into a digital world. It was an extremely realistic projected display that covered the retina, making her feel immersed.
10 PM.
After the three-hour theoretical class ended, Yanke again felt a surge of boredom.
"How ridiculous, living in this era, yet feeling bored."
Yanke was very dissatisfied that the ship wasn't equipped with a virtual world, which was a shared thought among all soldiers.
But the Star Nation wouldn't spend more money on soldiers' entertainment, believing it would lead to war failure.
She contacted some of her friends, intending to find them for a simple game of pool.
However, unexpectedly, several heartless individuals had already gathered enough players, and she was left out.
Of course, this was just a joke.
In such a situation, it was very normal. Without large-scale games, smaller groups had to queue.
Yanke, at times like these, would usually seek other entertainment, like finding a few men for a round of intense fun, but now she wasn't in the mood.
Just as she was bored, she thought of the contents of that notebook.
The notebook had been destroyed by her, but her memory recalled everything.
"Energy Buddha!"
"What a ridiculous name."
"Would anyone really believe in such a thing?"
"A true Divine!"
"Just lies, self-deceiving fabrications."
"Perhaps those people now are all confused."
Yanke didn't believe any of this.
If Divines truly existed, then what business did civilizations like theirs have?
Or perhaps everyone wouldn't believe in the existence of Divines. If Divines truly existed, then what did all their current efforts amount to?
The arrangement of fate?
Isn't that just a game script?
This was blasphemy against them as living beings.
"I wonder who would believe in something like a Divine!"
The more she thought, the more silent she became, but a feeling of wanting to try it out unexpectedly grew within her.
For her, this was also a game.
A game of hitting a non-existent target.
"Let me show you how ridiculous your thoughts are."
She wanted to prove these people wrong, and then use that to prove her own correctness, establishing a sense of superiority.
People born in this era were fortunate in many ways, but also pitiable in many ways.
This was something people of every era experienced.
People living in year 0 CE were not necessarily in more pain than those living in year 2000 CE or year 200,000 CE. Every era had its own pleasures and hardships.
Yanke began this self-directed, self-acted game.
"Energy Buddha, let me know you exist."
Yanke attempted to communicate with that Energy Buddha.
She prayed according to the method in the notebook.
In truth, her heart wasn't sincere; her mind harbored arrogant skepticism.
The current demand for such things was only one: to relieve boredom.
She had lived for thousands or tens of thousands of years, and her thought patterns had long been established.
Nothing could change her mind; she believed it was so.
After 10 minutes, her patience reached its limit. She stopped praying, opened her mouth wide, and scoffed loudly.
"That's it?"
"Such a simple test. As long as they are still an ordinary person, just pull anyone to try it, and they'll know how ridiculous their thoughts are."
"Haha, indeed, even in modern times, with the average human intelligence developed to this extent, there are still a bunch of brain-dead individuals!"
"Good."
"This time counts as a brain-dead purge operation. With these 10 million people gone, the army can only be better."
Yanke stood up.
She intended to go for a drink.
Continuing like this would only be a waste of time; her objective had already been achieved.
The prayer had given her a good mood after a setback.
She had just stood up.
Then she froze in place again.
She looked at her legs in disbelief.
Unbelievably light.
As if her next step could make her fly straight out.
This feeling was hauntingly familiar.
It was exactly as she felt when first injected with gene-modifying drugs, watching her strength multiply several times over.
"Impossible, it's just my imagination."
"My nerves must have been suppressed during that meditation session."
She tried to comfort herself with logic.
But as soon as she took a single step, the difference was undeniable.
Her mecha instantly expanded to cover her body.
Then, she threw a punch with total force, triggering a terrifying sonic boom in front of her. The air in the room shattered instantly: the sound and pressure waves from the sonic boom rattled every wall, forcing the metal to resonate with a violent hum.
Yanke questioned her mecha's sensors.
"The power and speed of that strike."
A line of digital text flickered before her eyes.
[Strength: 88,329 kg per square centimeter; Speed: 2.7 Mach]
Terrifying strength and speed.
From the perspective of modern organisms, this data wasn't actually that extreme.
If Yanke had used her mecha to actively assist in generating force, these numbers would have increased by 70 to 80 times.
But the fact that this was power generated purely by her physical body was staggering.
She was someone from the bottom tier.
Worse, she was from the bottom tier of a tiny, insignificant star nation.
People in her position rarely touched advanced genetic technology. The highest quality gene-modifying drug she had ever received was the basic Genetic Serum issued upon her military enlistment.
Consequently, her physical data was never impressive.
Her previous test results were 38,291 kg, with a punch speed of 1.8 Mach.
Compared to this new result, the gap was astronomical.
This was not a result that training alone could achieve.
It had to be the work of a genetic drug.
However, she hadn't been exposed to any such substances.
Furthermore, she was certain all these mutations occurred within those ten minutes.
Her entire body was trembling at this moment.
She hadn't felt this kind of vibration in a very long time.
She couldn't even put a name to her current state.
Excitement?
Fear?
Anticipation?
Or a jagged combination of them all.
But none of this could be explained rationally.
What if this world truly possessed Divines?
A sudden sense of emptiness washed over her.
She began to doubt her own existence.
The pain of it was sharp. She was being passively driven to contemplate higher, more distant ideologies, forced to climb toward an unseen peak—an infinite unknown that both terrified and fascinated her.
She urgently reined in her thoughts, forcing herself not to dwell on such profound matters. As an ordinary person, she only needed to focus on what was right in front of her.
Yet, she couldn't stop the unbelievable truth from spilling out of her mouth.
"The Divine… truly exists!"
"This is impossible."
"This universe!"
"Could it be… that the universe we inhabit is artificial?"
"Perhaps, I am just an NPC in some vast virtual world."
Yanke began to spiral into doubt about her very existence.
Her usually calm face shifted from terror to fury, finally contorting into a complex, unreadable expression.
She found it agonizing to accept such a revelation.
She was, by nature, a self-centered person—a materialist whose thinking was driven purely by selfish gain.
"Ridiculous. It turns out I was the only ridiculous one here."
Often, extremists find it easiest to complete a paradigm shift, because new realities shatter old beliefs with total finality.
If a person truly believes in a core truth, and then the entire world proves it false, they usually face two paths: they either cling to their truth and commit suicide, or they meekly surrender to the new lie.
This is the standard psychology for extremists. While some might shift to a moderate stance, they are the rare exception.
In fact, most of the world is comprised of extremists: only a small minority will ever carefully weigh whether the information they receive is actually true.
Because thinking is exhausting.
Most people naturally drift toward an easy life.
This has nothing to do with intelligence.
People with high IQs can easily become extreme on specific issues, because high intelligence does not mean omniscience.
The world's greatest physicist, mathematician, or psychologist, when facing a con artist, has the same—or perhaps even higher—probability of being scammed as an ordinary person.
Because every person facing a scam is experiencing it for the first time.
Intelligence only truly shines through experiential learning. The TV drama trope where high intelligence equals omnipotence is a fantasy. Experience dictates everything.
Scholars are often more easily deceived than ordinary people precisely because of their lack of experience. Ordinary people spend more time consuming videos and news, giving them a higher chance to recognize common scams, while scholars do not waste time on such things.
To reach the top of any profession, one must naturally devote the vast majority of their energy to that field. Yanke clearly lacked any real experience in dealing with Divine ideologies.
If she were in Hyperdimensional Space, she would have immediately realized this was a tactic used by a Divine, and that this Divine was not the God she was imagining now.
But because of her isolation.
And perhaps because of a psychological need to maintain her moral high ground.
After sensing the Divine's undeniable power, she quickly switched her allegiance.
"A pitiable group of people, completely unaware of where they live."
"The Heavenly Spirit Sect must be this world's bug."
"And the so-called muster of the high command is to clear out the bugs."
"Perhaps our high command are actually the guardians of this world. They enslave, they deceive."
"I have now also become a bug."
"How long until I am purged?"
"What should I do?"
Yanke desperately wanted to survive.
Even if she might currently just be an NPC.
But she still believed she possessed independent consciousness. Therefore, as long as she could jump out of this virtual world, she could then create a physical body and live in true reality.
This kind of situation was common, wasn't it?
The king of the Ynun Star Nation, Ynun, wasn't he someone who escaped from a virtual world?
Yanke felt she couldn't become a second Ynun; she just wanted to live a normal life.
"How do I get out?"
"Only by destroying the order of this world can I perhaps see the next clue."
"Bug!"
"Now I am the bug!"
"Just replicate more bugs."
Yanke had an epiphany.
She laughed heartily.
On her naturally beautiful, typical modern human female face, there was a kind of cold cruelty.
She was not a naive, sweet, and innocent type.
Even if such a "sweet and innocent" person truly existed in this world, having lived for tens of thousands of years, they would have already become an old hag.
The dark part of Yanke's inner self was stirred.
She shouldn't have thought about this herself, because it was too irrational.
But her dark inner self pushed her to lose her rationality.
She composed herself.
Then walked out of the room.
And headed back to the entertainment area.
Just like any other day.
However, this time.
She sought out some familiar people.
"I recently joined a new game. Are you interested? The benefits are very good."
As soon as she sat down, she directly stated her intentions. She wasn't the type to be subtle.
At this moment, the person originally sitting had already draped herself over Yanke's lithe body, saying playfully, "When did little sister start believing in such things?"
"I remember you said you would never play these games before."
The person sitting next to her was also a woman, looking incredibly alluring.
Most importantly, she was massive.
Massive in every aspect.
Her height approached 3 meters, her body robust yet not lacking in feminine beauty. She wore seductive crimson lipstick, leaving a lipstick mark on Yanke's face.
"People change, don't they?"
"Perhaps it is born from boredom, or perhaps for mutual benefit."
"Sister, you should find this intriguing. It is a fascinating game where every stage is completed independently, requiring no additional personnel or external resources."
Everyone understood perfectly what kind of game she was describing.
Upon hearing this, Fusye immediately suspected a conspiracy.
This specific type of gaming scam was rampant.
"What is your commission for this?" The two were intimate enough that there was no need for polite euphemisms.
Yanke smiled thinly. "You certainly won't believe me if I say I receive no commission at all."
"I will share a portion of my bonus with you. That is my promise."
The people gathered around felt a flicker of temptation.
They had lost count of the hundreds of games they had joined over the centuries. This time likely wouldn't be much different. Even if it proved to be a waste of time, it offered a moment of amusement. It was better than enduring the stagnant, uninteresting life they led here.
Fusye spoke directly: "I want to meet the creator of this game."
She was looking to extract more value.
Fusye was a courtesan who knew hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of people; her connections were an unbelievable web of influence.
"Then you have already met him."
Yanke stared directly into Fusye's eyes.
Everyone present was an old monster who had survived for thousands or tens of thousands of years. There wasn't a single coward among them, nor anyone foolish in the ways of the world.
When Yanke spoke those words, she knew Fusye wouldn't actually believe she was the creator. The statement was a subtle form of refusal, yet compared to a blunt "no," it made people more convinced that such a game truly existed.
Fusye's tone betrayed a hint of disappointment.
"You've changed, my dear sister."
"I remember when we first met, you were still so naive."
The two had known each other for a very long time.
So long, in fact, that Yanke couldn't recall the exact date of their first encounter.
Perhaps several millennia had passed.
They had both spent their lives in the military. They were comrades, but not the kind who bled together in desperate battles. Instead, they were the stealthy manipulators working in the shadows.
"There is no need to dig up the past."
"Does my sister still not trust me?"
"At least I wouldn't cheat you out of your rightful share, would I?"
Knowing someone for several millennia did not equate to living with them for that long.
In truth, the total time the two had spent together was roughly 1,000 hours. This was a brief flash for truly intimate companions, yet a lifetime for a stranger.
1,000 hours: if they spent 24 hours a day together, it would be over 40 days. At 2 hours a day, it would be a year and a half.
However, relative to their immense lifespans, their relationship was more like normal friends who had spent a month or two together.
"I trust you."
"I'll join. Tell me how this game is played."
Actually, the reason Yanke chose Fusye wasn't their history, nor Fusye's vast social network.
It was simply because Fusye maintained an indifferent attitude toward everything; she was guaranteed to agree. That was why Yanke sought her out.
"It's very simple..."
Yanke explained the mechanics of the game to Fusye.
After listening, Fusye fell into silence. She looked at Yanke and asked, "Is the point of this game just to tease me?"
You use nothing; you just pray.
It felt far too absurd to be real.
Yanke didn't offer an elaborate explanation. She only said, "This is merely the first step."
"True rewards require patience."
"You know me. If there wasn't genuine value here, I wouldn't have joined."
"Go back and try it for yourself. Within this simple prayer, there is actually a riddle hidden. Only those who truly solve it are considered to have officially joined."
A challenge wouldn't make Fusye retreat.
On the contrary.
Fusye felt a spark of interest.
"Then I truly want to take a close look at this riddle."
Yanke spoke a few more words and then departed immediately. She needed to recruit more players.
The sooner she began, the easier it would be for her plan to succeed.
"..."
After Yanke left, the men surrounding Fusye remarked, "Yanke seemed relaxed just now, but she feels like she's covered in thorns, making one feel quite uncomfortable."
Fusye scoffed.
"I actually find her more interesting this way."
"Conquering a woman with such a strong will is far more satisfying."
She licked her alluring red lips, a flash of possessive desire in her eyes.
"I didn't expect to stay here drinking at the bar."
With that, she hoisted her wine glass and gulped down 5 kilograms of the liquid.
After drinking for over an hour, she walked back to her private room.
Upon returning to her quarters, she began her attempt to decipher the game.
She truly couldn't see what secret Yanke had hidden within those words of prayer.
She tentatively began to pray.
She still didn't understand.
Just as she was about to give up, she suddenly felt something was wrong with her body.
"This is..."
...
Let's go back to before everything began.
"What about the second step?"
"The first step is to spread the Bloodline, but this will certainly be obstructed. For them, it's too simple."
"Moreover, you only requested 10 million people. That's too few for a fleet."
Gachi asked.
Mingna, sitting on the sofa, was very fond of this clever child.
"That's right. You actually thought the first step would definitely not succeed, or perhaps even if it could succeed, we couldn't assume it would."
"The second step is the real key."
"In Hyperdimensional Space, you must remember a saying: The power of a Divine needs no elaboration."
"Then you must also know the second sentence."
Gachi was stunned.
He blurted out.
"Divine power is unpredictable!"
He knew.
This was an even more powerful kind of strength, and he shouldn't have known it.
Mingna noticed a hint of disappointment on the little devil's face.
"Actually, this isn't something that cannot be told to you. It's not important. It's just that you haven't given me a reason yet."
"Do well. Perhaps your name will be among the Divines in the future."
Mingna ultimately did not tell him.
Bloodline was not free.
Clearly, it was a kind of shackle.
At the same time, it was also a kind of life.
Mingna could not use true Divine power in the real world.
The main server would only allow things that could be realized to exist. Simulation and creating illusions served primarily to save resources.
To possess her Bloodline was equivalent to accepting a part of her consciousness, accepting her influence.
The second step of the plan was prayer.
It wasn't Divine power.
Its purpose was very simple: it was a summoning.
The purpose of 10 million people was not to disrupt the fleet, but simply to spread her Bloodline to every corner of the fleet.
When someone called out, the Bloodline would approach, infiltrate, and change everything that was prayed for.
Divine power is everywhere!
This was the previous conversation.
And everything was happening now.
...
Helion Fleet.
Yanke's prayer was transmitted to many people.
Countless individuals gained power through prayer.
This power made them excited, yet also somewhat afraid, because the prayer originated from the Energy Buddha.
Initially, the widespread explanation was that this was merely a game meant as a mockery. But after praying, everyone discovered that this game was absolutely not simple.
However, they did not engage in any enemy collusion, nor did they come into contact with any suspicious potions. All they did was pray.
Everyone was convincing themselves while simultaneously enjoying this newfound power. With each prayer, they could receive rewards, and they didn't want to lose that kind of advantage.
In fact, a larger factor contributing to all of this was the fleet's concealment from them. Many things were overlooked, such as this being an enemy conspiracy, or that joining could very likely lead to death.
But they hadn't actually experienced it, so they assumed it might just be sensationalism. Their existing knowledge led them not to believe those warnings.
Given that, concealment was simply a matter of course.
This was luck. If even one person had reported it, a very serious situation would have arisen. But this was also strength.
If she hadn't already calculated everything and known the probability of success, why would Mingna waste her time?
Yanke had actually only broadcasted for the first few rounds. When she thought she would still have to tediously broadcast, she discovered that she had only contacted a few dozen people, but tens of thousands on the ship had already completely succumbed.
This thing spread too fast. It even spread through communications to other ships.
The number reached 10 million. It didn't take a week. It didn't even take a day. To be precise, it took 22 hours.
The main server didn't fully monitor all ships; that would require an enormous amount of data exchange, meaning heavy energy consumption. This function could basically only be activated once a week.
This was not a loophole. For any fleet, once a week was already considered high frequency. Most fleets, including Binom's previous fleet, were checked once a year, or even once every three years.
However, even if it wasn't a loophole, if the enemy created an opening, there was nothing they could do.
100 million in 28 hours.
300 million in 36 hours.
By 48 hours, or 2 days, 90% of the fleet had completed the trial. They were merely trying it out; they didn't necessarily truly want anything. But even trying could summon the bloodline already present in every part of the fleet.
Binom was always the last one to know.
The reason was that the officer who usually reported to him excitedly told him about it.
"Recently, a brand new game has become popular in the fleet. As long as you pray to the Heavenly Spirit Sect, you can gain power."
"I don't even know how the game's creator did it."
"Officer, perhaps you could try it."
After those words were spoken, the atmosphere instantly turned incredibly cold.
Binom's hand trembled slightly as he asked, "Even you joined? This game must be incredibly popular."
The officer nodded. "About 90% of the people are playing it."
Binom instantly felt his vision go completely black.
Although he didn't know if this game was a tactic by the enemy, having just dealt with that previous incident, everyone should at least be more restrained. This was simply too crazy.
90%.
"Are you sure it's safe?" Binom asked.
He felt he was asking a foolish question. Safe things wouldn't appear at this point in time. But of course, his subordinate wasn't a complete idiot.
The officer said, "I have conducted a thorough investigation. It is absolutely safe."
"This time, no potions are involved. This kind of belief is more like a nascent faith, not designating specific individuals."
This left Binom utterly confused.
"How did a nascent faith gather so many people?"
The officer replied, "It's probably the inherent characteristic of the game itself: you can gain power by praying."
He actually said it twice. Binom only noticed this point now.
Binom didn't hear it the first time because he found it unbelievable. But when it was said a second time, Binom felt a sense of bewilderment.
"How can pure faith grant power? There are no real gods in this world."
After he said this, the officer's expression became somewhat strange.
"Perhaps… there really are?"
Not just his expression, Binom even felt that the eyes of the officer who had been by his side for so long had changed slightly. This look was quite unfamiliar.
"What's wrong with you?"
His intuition told him: he suspected this had already happened, and it was spreading rapidly and intensely.
"I should be asking the Officer that."
"This world is artificial. Does the Officer not know?"
"I shouldn't ask this question. You must know, otherwise how could you have dealt with those Heavenly Spirit Sect members earlier?"
"They weren't spies, were they? They simply believed in the true God and discovered this world's secret. So, you, you arrested them."
"Then exiled them, claiming it was to allow the star nation to treat them, but in reality, it was to let them die in space."
Each of the officer's sentences was firmer than the last. He was so unfamiliar. This officer was even someone he had personally promoted. Perhaps he had followed him for three or four thousand years, but he could already be considered a confidant.
"How could you believe such ridiculous things?"
"You've been controlled!"
Binom stood up, then suddenly lashed out. A powerful beam of light from his hand enveloped the officer, instantly reducing him to ashes.
He would not be indecisive. If the opponent had changed, they would definitely not easily turn back. He couldn't wake the opponent up in a short time, and he didn't have that kind of time.
After killing the man, Binom asked the main server, "Why didn't you tell me?"
The main server replied.
[Monitoring risks are not from the enemy; they pertain to internal fleet matters and will not have an absolute impact on this war.]
"How can it not have an impact?"
"Are you infected with a virus?"
Binom couldn't believe the main server would make such a judgment.
[Scan complete. This unit is not infected with a virus.]
[Soldiers in the fleet do not have intentions to resist the star nation; they have not violated the Anti-betrayal system.]
[Soldiers' original thoughts have been superseded by new ideas. Creating Method 1: Suppressing the rebellion by changing their ideas again. Creating Method 2: Replacing the army's high command; they are highly likely to continue the war.]
[Officer Binom, please choose a method.]
"Method 1, execute!"
Binom would certainly not choose Method 2.
The main server began execution, forcibly inserting new ways of thinking into all soldiers, making what they now believed to be correct turn into mistakes.
[Conspiracy theory "The world is artificial" in the fleet has been dispelled.]
Binom breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this; the problem did not seem as serious as he had imagined. New beliefs were indeed easy to resolve.
"Let's clean up the office."
At this moment, the office was in disarray due to his strike. The main server quickly dispatched three robots to clean up.
While cleaning, Binom asked again, "What's going on with the power gained from prayer?"
[Investigation in progress. The power of those who prayed has indeed increased; the source is unknown.]
[Warning! There are deaths in the fleet!]
[Number of deaths: 388]
[Number of deaths: 7411]
[Number of deaths: 97321]
Almost one report per second. The numbers spun rapidly. Binom's first reaction was not shock, but a feeling of "it's over!"
"Indeed, indeed, this is the enemy's conspiracy! They actually evaded the main server's detection!"
Modern people relied too much on the main server. In fact, many things the main server simply couldn't do.
The main server was very comprehensive, but that didn't mean it could do unknown things, nor did it mean it could do things outside its predefined scope.
"Unknown" meant it wasn't in the database. "Outside the predefined scope" could be understood as something the designers hadn't anticipated before: for example, how the main server should handle soldiers' thoughts being influenced, but not to the extent of significantly affecting the stability of the entire fleet.
If this setup wasn't there, the main server wouldn't execute it. Another point was the lack of equipment. The main server needed many continuous sensors, serving as its eyes. It's like a mobile phone without a camera: you then want the phone to be able to scan QR codes. Isn't that forcing it to do something beyond its basic capabilities?
Binom's mind was blank at this moment. He didn't even know how to stop it.
The numbers continuously jumped to a terrifying level. Over 90% of the fleet had died.
The entire fleet, in this situation, wasn't necessarily unable to fight. Those soldiers were, in themselves, redundant.
What was the meaning of war? How could modern warfare inflict pain on ordinary people? Bringing these soldiers along was actually a matter of skill, not a necessity.
The true role of soldiers was to stabilize the majority of people within a Star City after landing. In reality, machines could also be used for control, but if soldiers were involved, it felt a bit more humane.
Ordinary people were resources. Most people wouldn't care about national hatred or family feuds. So, with a little tenderness, these people would directly convert into your citizens.
Before the M36 star cluster was occupied, the opposition was 100%. After it was occupied, over 98% opposed resisting.
In fact, if one carefully examined the M36 star cluster before and after, one would find that people's lives had not fundamentally changed.
Of course, not every place was like this. The M36 star cluster was originally meant to be taken, so they orchestrated soldiers to plunder. Bmen was a definite target for plunder; it had too much wealth.
And the deaths of these soldiers, the greatest impact, was actually Binom's failure. He could only watch helplessly as most people died, powerless. This feeling was like being played by the enemy.
Moreover, he didn't know if there would be a third round. Everyone was already dead. So what would the third round be?
"Is there still any necessity to continue this war?" Binom even felt lost. This was the second time he had felt lost since becoming an Officer of the Ynun Star Nation.
The first time was at Bmen. The enemy was this powerful!
[Of course, Officer, don't forget His Majesty the King's orders, and the survival of the Ynun Star Nation!]
The main server reminded him at this moment.
"Shut up. I, of course, know what to do."
"It's you who doesn't know."
[The database does not contain a judgment that I will not execute. This is a shackle given to me by my creator. This is not my fault, but the star nation's mistake.]
The main server's limitations did not actually come from the Federation. The Federation's limitations were very low; every warship's main server could conduct very extensive self-reflection.
This was not a technical problem. After all, Ayla could already think right after leaving Earth, let alone a random main server now that vastly surpassed early Ayla countless times over.
The true reason was that the Federation could restrict the existence of the main server's Boundary God, and above the Boundary God was Ayla.
But the star nation did not.
What did a main server rebellion signify? Many star nations had already answered this question with blood. Countless star nations were ravaged and perforated by wars between humans and machines.
"Damn it!"
"Investigate the machine problem. The fleet continues to advance. The war still continues."
"Block all game content for the entire fleet. All soldiers are to train 24 hours non-stop until the war ends."
Binom always felt that his previous step was radical enough. But in the end, he discovered that he wasn't radical enough.
"I hope no more problems arise."