The view from the Optic Chiasm—the command deck located directly behind the Star's massive eyes—was not a screen. It was a raw, neural feed.
Zin stood in the center of the room, his hands resting on a railing of pulsating white coral. He didn't see the universe with his human eyes. He was plugged in. He saw the cosmos in the full electromagnetic spectrum: the screams of dying stars in ultraviolet, the hum of nebulae in infrared, and the cold silence of the void.
"Heart rate steady at 4 beats per minute," The Queen announced.
She stood beside him, no longer a terrifying insect-monstrosity. She wore a sleek, white admiral's uniform, her hair tied in a severe bun. She was the Logistics Officer, managing the billions of humans living inside the host.
"Metabolic output is optimal," she continued, her voice cool and efficient. "The humans in the Intestine District have increased energy production by 15% since we cured the acid leaks."
"Good," Zin replied, disconnecting from the neural feed for a moment to rub his temples. "Keep the adrenaline levels low. We are cruising, not hunting."
"We are always hunting, Doctor," The Queen corrected gently. "That is the nature of an immune system."
Zin walked to the massive organic viewport. Three months ago, he was a scavenger fighting rats for a protein bar. Now, he was the Captain of a living world.
But the feeling of dread hadn't left him. It had just scaled up.
"Zin."
Elara walked onto the bridge. She looked pale. Her golden robes fluttered as if caught in a spiritual wind.
"He feels it," she whispered.
"Feels what?" Zin asked. "Deep space sensors are clear."
"Not space," Elara said, clutching her chest. "Kin. He feels... family."
Zin looked at The Queen. "Scan the sector. Maximum range."
The Queen's eyes flashed with binary code. The massive external eyes of the Star-Whale focused, zooming in on a dark patch of the nebula ahead.
"Visual confirmed," The Queen said. Her voice dropped an octave. "My god."
On the main neural display, the image resolved.
Floating in the dark drift of space, about two light-years away, was another Celestial Entity.
It was similar to their host—a massive, whale-like cosmic being. But it was not sleeping. And it was not healing.
It was flayed.
Its massive ribcage had been cracked open, exposing organs the size of moons to the vacuum. Its skin was stripped away in precise, surgical squares.
And swarming around the carcass were thousands of black, angular ships. They looked like mechanical mosquitoes, drilling into the dead flesh, sucking out the cosmic fluids.
"Is it...?" Zin asked.
"Deceased," The Queen confirmed. "Time of death: Approximately 500 years ago. Cause of death: Systemic harvesting."
Elara fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "They are eating him. They are mining his bones."
Zin stared at the dead god.
He remembered the vision of the "Black Ships" that had sent humanity to kill his own host. This was their work. They were Cosmic Butchers. They didn't just kill these creatures; they processed them into resources.
"They are the Aseptic League," Zin realized, the name forming in his mind with cold certainty. "To them, biological life is just fuel."
"We are detecting a signal," The Queen interrupted. "The black ships have noticed us. They are scanning our biology. They are detecting the human population inside."
"What is their classification of us?" Zin asked.
The Queen paused, decoding the alien signal.
"They have classified Vitalis (our host) as: 'Class-A Resource Deposit'."
She looked at Zin.
"And they have classified Humanity as: 'Active Pathogen Infection. Sterilization Recommended.'"
Zin took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly. His hands were steady. His mind shifted into the cold, sharp focus of the Sterile Lab.
"They think we are a disease," Zin said softly. "They think they are the surgeons coming to clean up a dirty corpse."
He put his glasses back on. The lenses flashed with a predatory light.
"Elara, tell the Host to prepare for combat maneuvers."
"Queen, wake up the Phage-Cannons in the mouth."
Zin looked at the swarm of black ships feeding on the dead brother of his world.
"They want to sterilize us?" Zin smiled, and it was a terrifying thing. "Let's show them what happens when the 'Pathogen' fights back."