“General Guo, what do we do?”
The octopus creatures’ posture was unbearably arrogant, with not the slightest attempt to hide their approach. They were drawing closer to the Ark, and the giant sound whales on the perimeter were letting out panicked cries, trying to warn the octopuses off.
The Ark survivors on guard duty were so terrified at the sight that their legs gave out beneath them. They scrambled to find Guo Hai.
“Wesley and the others are all unconscious—no one can command the giant sound whales. Does the Ark have any weapons? Should we open fire?”
Guo Hai rushed to the control room. The flag of the Star Grain Party hung high on the wall, and the people in the control room were on the verge of tears.
Guo Hai frowned in displeasure. “What’s there to panic about?! It’s not like we’ve never fought the Zerg before! Every single one of us is living on borrowed time. If it comes to it, we’ll just die one more time.”
The Ark’s control systems… well, they were practically primitive—even worse than an ordinary spacecraft. It had only the most basic life-support and communication systems. No weapons systems, no navigation systems—nothing.
Guo Hai rubbed his forehead and sighed. Fine. He could see it now—Lin Xiaohe and the others had truly only wanted to save lives. The entire Ark had been stripped of everything, essential or not, just to maximize space.
Wesley and the others still hadn’t woken up, and the Ark had absolutely nothing.
It seemed there was no option left but to wait for death.
“General Guo! Good news! The matrix is collapsing!”
Perhaps because the octopuses had acted on their own, the matrix had run low on energy and was now breaking down completely. After another bout of chaos, gravity might return to normal.
But how long that recovery would take—no one could say. Maybe a year, maybe ten, maybe a hundred, maybe a thousand.
Distant water couldn’t quench an immediate thirst. This “good news” didn’t seem to help much at all.
The survivors aboard the Ark hadn’t received any military secrecy training, so word of the octopus battle group’s approach quickly spread among them.
Everyone was terrified.
“Oh god, are we just supposed to sit here and die?! Wuwu, who’s going to save us?”
Lin Xiaohe wasn’t there. The Stardust Humans weren’t there. The warriors from Miluo Star weren’t there.
None of the people who dared to fight—who could fight—were there.
It was only at this moment that the survivors truly realized: without their protectors, they were more insignificant than ants in the vastness of space.
There has never been such a thing as eternal peace and quiet in this world—it’s only because someone else is carrying the weight for you.
A little girl curled up in a leaf-shaped seat, pressed her palms together, and prayed devoutly: “Please bless the Insect God and bring them home safely!”
—
Back in the control room, Guo Hai gave the order: send a distress signal to the entire universe.
The communications operator’s lips twitched, but he swallowed his words.
At a time like this, who would actually come to save them?
Still, aside from this, there was nothing else anyone could do.
Half an hour after the distress signal was sent, the Ark actually received a transmission on the Federation channel!
Guo Hai rushed to the communicator and said urgently, “Hello, this is the Star Grain Party Ark. We’re trapped, and over a hundred Zerg are heading our way. Requesting backup!”
A crackling, hissing noise came through the channel—clearly the gravitational chaos hadn’t fully subsided yet, and it was still interfering with communications.
All they could hear were fragmented words from the other side.
“Star Grain Party Ark… this is Federation Sixth Star Ring, 23rd Division communications ship… we… unable to…”
Guo Hai’s heart sank. The 23rd Division of the Sixth Star Ring had originally been Miluo Star’s main force, but after heavy casualties in the war against the Empire, they’d been pulled from Miluo Star and merged with the 54th Division.
In other words, the Federation no longer had a 23rd Division. The fact that the other side still used that designation could only mean they were acting on their own!
Combined with the broken transmission that followed, Guo Hai was already certain: the people on the other end had no rescue capability, and they wouldn’t be able to call in Federation reinforcements either.
Even so, Guo Hai forced a smile and reassured the survivors: “You heard that, everyone! Help is on the way! The 23rd Division has a good relationship with Lin Xiaohe—they’ll come save us for their sake. Tell everyone not to panic.”
And in truth, Guo Hai’s guess was correct.
The 23rd Division communications ship had set out in secret from the Fifth Star Ring’s Gonggong Star spaceport. After the Sixth Star Ring military command was ordered to the Fifth Star Ring to help build defensive lines, the 23rd Division had followed the 54th Division to Gonggong Star.
They still had the Sixth Star Ring on their minds—still thought about Lin Xiaohe—so they’d come to check things out.
The communications ship had only made it through the Fifth Star Ring’s defensive line thanks to help from the Gonggong Star garrison and the Sixth Star Ring military district commander.
Unfortunately, not long after entering the Sixth Star Ring, they’d been discovered, and the matter was reported all the way up to the Federation Parliament and the Federation government.
Before receiving the Ark’s distress signal, the communications ship had just finished getting chewed out. They’d been ordered to turn back immediately.
“Captain, what do we do?”
“Send the live feed back to headquarters!”
The footage transmitted back by the 23rd Division communications ship wasn’t very clear, but it was enough to see that the octopus battle group was about to surround the Ark!
A Federation senator shot to his feet in disbelief. “How is this possible?! The Dead Hand System failed?!”
How could this be?!
The Dead Hand System—long regarded by the Federation as their ultimate secret weapon—had malfunctioned?!
This was huge!
Everyone scrambled to report upward. Just then, Chu Huaizhi returned with his people and was about to convene a military meeting to address the Great Tomb in the Second Star Ring. So this matter also came up at the meeting.
“You’ve got to be kidding, right? How could the Dead Hand System fail? That’s—”
“Ugh, seriously. Why are we always so fixated on the Sixth Star Ring?! We should be focusing on our Second Star Ring!”
The room buzzed with chatter, everyone voicing their own opinions.
Chu Huaizhi’s head was splitting with pain—his mental energy was on the verge of spiraling out of control.
He’d finally finished dealing with the Holy Gate business, only to return and find out that the Great Tomb had jumped to the Second Star Ring and already occupied two-thirds of its territory.
Before he’d even had time to think about how to respond, he’d also learned that the little lobsters were actually the juvenile form of the Void Devourer!
He took a deep breath and asked in a low voice: “The Dead Hand System failed. Is Lin Xiaohe still alive?”
The moment the words left his mouth, the conference room fell dead silent.
If Lin Xiaohe was still alive, wouldn’t someone be able to clean up the mess in the Second Star Ring?
Everyone turned to look at the crackling, static-filled real-time footage. For a moment, their feelings were complicated.
Would it be better if Lin Xiaohe were alive… or dead?
—
Sixth Star Ring, Magellan Galaxy.
The Ark was completely surrounded by octopuses—the situation was at a breaking point.
Guo Hai had already prepared to self-destruct. If things turned hopeless, he’d take as many of those bugs down with him as he could!
Wesley and the others slowly came to their senses. The first thing they saw upon waking was this standoff.
“Brothers—eat them!”
They were starving anyway, their stomachs burning with hunger. Time to feast!
Wesley and the others flew out of the Ark, cracking their knuckles eagerly, ready to make sure these octopuses would never return.
“Heh.” The lead octopus let out a contemptuous chuckle.
Pathetic little humans—clueless and insignificant. Today, they would make sure these ants understood who was the number one underling of their Lord!
If looks could materialize, the blazing glares from both sides would have burned a hole straight through the universe.
Everyone—whether the survivors inside the Ark, or the Federation soldiers and high-ranking officials watching this unfold—held their breath, not daring to make a sound.
And then, Lin Xiaohe arrived on the scene.
“…What are you all doing?”
Had these turncoat traitors gotten bold enough to play the false-surrender game?
The moment the octopuses saw Lin Xiaohe, their entire bodies sparkled with starlight.
What happened next stunned everyone.
The octopus battle group parted into two lines, as neat and orderly as a military parade.
Then, in perfect unison, they raised their tentacles—and saluted!
A unified, resounding voice echoed through everyone’s minds and, converted by the instruments into human language, boomed through the conference room!
“We welcome our Lord! May our Lord reign for ten thousand generations, and unify the universe!”
Lin Xiaohe: …
You turncoat traitor… you really know how to put on a show, don’t you?!
