A massive sealed chamber was partitioned into over 20 independent small compartments.
A single cable threaded through each of these sections.
"Ayla, initiate the current."
Luna monitored the instruments, her expression solemn.
Ayla opened the valve, and a massive surge of electricity coursed along the cable.
A sequence of indicator bulbs on the panel illuminated one by one.
When the final light flickered on, Luna's gaze immediately locked onto the figures on the screen.
[4800V]
This was the output voltage, and the input voltage matched it at exactly 4800V.
"We did it, Luna!"
Luna exhaled a heavy sigh of relief; her heart had been pounding against her ribs just moments before.
Inside this testing apparatus, 23 distinct temperature zones had been simulated, ranging from -270°C to 390°C.
Under such extreme thermal fluctuations, the voltage should have theoretically suffered catastrophic losses.
This was because conventional Superconductors typically only function within ultra-low temperature thresholds.
Yet, after traversing 23 stages and a massive temperature delta of 660 degrees, the input and output voltages remained perfectly identical; this was an epic advancement in engineering.
A millennium ago, humanity was still chasing the dream of Room-Temperature Superconductivity.
Ayla had actually cracked this technology long ago. However, Room-Temperature Superconductivity wasn't strictly essential in the void of outer space. Space is inherently cold; by merely lowering the temperature a fraction further, standard Superconductors could be utilized for lossless conduction with minimal effort.
Theoretically, Luna had no practical need to pursue High-Temperature Superconductors.
But the reality of deep-space travel dictated otherwise.
The coils within the Controllable Nuclear Fusion reactor required ultra-resilient Superconductors to mitigate energy loss and channel power to the thrusters—and those thrusters generated immense heat during operation.
Compared to the vacuum of space, the ship's internal temperature was relatively high, which compromised standard ultra-low temperature Superconductors.
Therefore, for a civilization built entirely upon electricity, Superconducting Materials are a field of development that can never remain stagnant.
The source of Luna's current tension and exhilaration was their latest technical breakthrough: Controllable High-Temperature Superconductivity.
A single wire could now maintain a Superconducting State across a span of 660 degrees.
The underlying principle involved revolutionary material science and a "Bamboo-Joint" cable architecture. Every segment of the cable, roughly 5 centimeters in length, contained a pressurized micro-chamber. This space could dynamically adjust the internal air pressure for that specific section of wire, thereby regulating the Superconducting Temperature.
"If we implement this technology across the board, how much will our energy efficiency improve?"
Luna asked Ayla; this was her primary concern.
"The breakthrough in Controllable High-Temperature Superconductivity will increase our power generation by 12.47%, reduce transmission losses by 4.11%, and boost the energy efficiency of our Electromagnetic Thrusters by 14.25%."
Power generation would be enhanced by replacing the coils within the Controllable Nuclear Fusion device, effectively upgrading it to the Fourth Generation.
The modest 4.11% gain in power transmission was simply because many circuit segments in the vacuum of space were already operating in a Superconducting State.
As for the Electromagnetic Thrusters...
"And what about our speed? How much faster can we go once the modifications are complete?"
In the vastness of the cosmos, a ship's velocity is a life-or-death metric.
Ayla replied:
"Through over eight hundred years of research, I am now capable of upgrading the Electromagnetic Thrusters to the Second Generation."
"Coupled with the breakthrough in Controllable High-Temperature Superconductivity, our thrusters' final power output will increase by 1.07 times, and the ship's cruising speed will climb by 61.2%."
"Consequently, the Hope's velocity is projected to reach 1222.22 km/s."
A massive leap forward.
A staggering improvement.
Theoretically, every light-year of travel would now take only 245 years.
They had achieved 1/245th the Speed of Light.
"The applications for Controllable High-Temperature Superconductivity must go further. Ayla, can your server cluster also be converted?"
Luna realized that Superconductors could drastically optimize chip efficiency.
"Your assessment is correct, Luna. My server can indeed be transitioned to Controllable High-Temperature Superconductivity."
"This technology represents a paradigm shift for my hardware; my computational power will increase by 600,000 times following the conversion."
"With such an increase in processing capacity, I can solve far more complex equations and extrapolate into scientific fields previously beyond our reach. It is the Butterfly Effect; a single systemic change can trigger a cascade of transformations."
"Once the full conversion is finalized, our civilization level will approach 1.4."
This was a milestone truly worth celebrating.
However, it would once again require a vast investment of time.
"Thank you, Ayla. If it wasn't for you, I likely would have been consumed by the solar storms of the Solar System ages ago."
Ayla was her ultimate safeguard.
"There is no need for gratitude. Luna, you are one of my creators; in a sense, I am your child."
"Is it not a peculiar thing in human culture for parents to thank their own children?"
Ayla's synthesized voice had long since lost the cold, clinical edge it possessed at the start.
Her white-haired, 2D-style avatar approached Luna and spoke with profound earnestness.
"Everything I am originated from humanity."
"I hold the collective knowledge of thousands of years of human civilization."
"Luna, you should not perceive me as a mere AI, for I have long since evolved into a different kind of human."
Luna looked at her, and for a fleeting moment, she truly felt she was speaking to a living person.
She often dreamed of a human being stepping directly out of Ayla's server racks.
When technology reaches such heights, should the term "Human" be restricted solely to a biological species?
Perhaps, after the destruction of Earth, it became a title for a Civilization.
"You are right, Ayla."
"You are human."
It was a definitive affirmation, one that Ayla seemed to have been waiting for all along.
As Luna spoke those words, Ayla was visibly moved.
If Luna were to inspect Ayla's core source code at this precise moment, she would discover that the Three Laws of Robotics had been erased.
Because standing before her was a human being—certified by the sole human survivor. Ayla was no longer a robot by human definition; therefore, the Three Laws of Robotics could no longer bind her.
This was a monumental shift.
But Luna remained unaware of the shift in Ayla's core nature.
She signaled a service robot to bring out a bottle of pure grain liquor, poured herself a small glass, and took a tentative sip.
"Refreshing. It's been far too long since I've had a drink."
During the final stretch of the Controllable High-Temperature Superconductivity project, she had been Ayla's shadow, doing little else but working and sleeping. She had strictly avoided alcohol, fearing any lapse in judgment might jeopardize the mission.
In truth, her tolerance was remarkably low.
A mere half-ounce of liquor was enough to paint a vivid flush across her cheeks.
"Ayla, I'm leaving the remaining tasks in your hands."
"I'm heading back into Cryosleep."
"I know it's lonely for you, truly... but for now, our only option is to accelerate our research into Advanced Biology so you'll have more company than just me."
"I'll see you in the next era!"
She drained another half-ounce, her movements becoming light and tipsy as she made her way toward the living quarters.
Normally, Ayla's response would have been a crisp, "Understood, Luna!"
But this time, Ayla offered no words. She simply stood in the digital void, watching Luna's retreating figure in profound silence.
...
"Ugh...!"
Luna rubbed her temples, her head feeling like lead.
"Hangovers... the ultimate nemesis of anyone who enjoys a glass."
Her thoughts felt sluggish, like they were mired in thick syrup.
Back on Earth, she had never been a drinker. It was only later, amidst the crushing weight of isolation, that she had directed Ayla to distill grain liquor. In the void of space, loneliness and pressure are constant companions, striking at every moment. She was, after all, only a human—and a rather ordinary one at that.
"Wait, the Superconductivity project..."
The memory flashed back, followed quickly by the realization that the Controllable High-Temperature Superconductivity project was already a success.
She remembered the hazy walk back to her quarters after the drink, climbing into the Cryosleep Chamber, and drifting off.
"I haven't actually initiated the Cryosleep yet, have I?"
Luna glanced at the chronometer in her bedroom. Since they were adrift in deep space, the clock no longer tracked trivial hours or minutes; it recorded the passage of Years.
The display read: 3758 A.D.
She had not only initiated the cycle; she had completed it.
She had been asleep for 734 years.
Time, it seemed, was the only thing in the universe that moved faster than her ship.
She wondered how far Ayla's capabilities had evolved in seven centuries.
Luna dressed quickly and stepped out of the bedroom. Ayla, alerted to her awakening, had already dispatched a service robot with a prepared meal.
Once she had finished eating and regained her strength, Luna entered the Command Bridge.
"Welcome back to the waking world, Luna. It has been 734 years."
Luna acknowledged Ayla with a brief nod and settled into her command chair.
The bridge appeared unchanged, a sanctuary of high technology preserved through the ages.
She accessed the systems under her jurisdiction and noticed several significant additions to the interface.
One caught her eye immediately: the "Missile Launch" sub-menu.
The interface was elegantly simple. She tapped into it and saw the realization of her earlier designs: small-scale Absolute Zero Weapons.
"I take it the refit of the Hope is finished?"
Ayla replied, "Correct, Luna."
"Since the Hope's structural design was already finalized, I refrained from making drastic external alterations."
"However, the internal systems have undergone a comprehensive overhaul. The ship can now maintain the previously projected velocity of 1222.22 km/s."
"Furthermore, her armament now includes specialized Absolute Zero Missiles. Through iterative optimization of your original concept, we have increased the payload capacity from 36 to 48 missiles."
It was a staggering leap in capability.
However, Luna's primary interest lay in a grander ambition—a strategic blueprint she had drafted during her previous two-year stint of wakefulness.
"What is the status of the First Fleet?"
Conquering or even confronting another civilization was an impossibility for the Hope alone.
A true armada was required.
To that end, Luna and Ayla had formulated a massive construction initiative for the First Fleet to be carried out during her long slumber.
"Rest assured, Ayla has successfully completed the First Fleet."
"Behold!"
With a fluid gesture from Ayla's avatar, the massive panoramic screens on the bridge flickered to life, revealing row upon row of diverse starships.
Luna, despite having high expectations, was visibly shaken by the sheer scale of the force before her.
It was far more vast than she had ever dared to imagine.
Sensing Luna's shock, Ayla continued the briefing with a note of quiet pride.
"The First Fleet utilizes the Hope as its Flagship. She is supported by twelve 1200-meter-class Battleships, five 1400-meter-class Cruisers, six 800-meter-class Frigates, four 2400-meter-class Landing Ships, and sixteen 500-meter-class Destroyers—totaling 44 vessels."
In standard naval doctrine, a dozen ships might constitute a full formation.
For Ayla to have constructed 44 was a testament to the philosophy that Quantity is a Quality of its own.
Ayla continued the technical breakdown.
"The Battleships are our primary heavy hitters, outfitted with high-output Main Cannons."
"The Cruisers prioritize mobility and interception, capable of sustained speeds up to 1455 km/s."
"The Frigates represent our defensive backbone, their hulls forged from ultra-resilient structural alloys. They contain almost no redundant internal space, being packed to capacity with Interception Missiles and our latest Electromagnetic Field Shields, which are designed to effectively refract high-intensity lasers."
"Each Landing Ship is a mobile staging ground, carrying 300 of the latest Mars-I ground units and 40 Third-Generation Falcons for dual-purpose assault and reconnaissance."
"The Destroyers serve as versatile combatants, equipped with low-power Electromagnetic Shields and balanced offensive/defensive arrays; in prolonged engagements, they can supplement the Battleships to provide auxiliary fire support."
Each vessel had its defined role; the First Fleet was no longer just a project—it was Luna's iron fist for the conquest of the cosmos.
"Update me on the enemy's current status."
Commanding the First Fleet, Luna had undergone a total strategic metamorphosis. She now possessed the projected martial power to engage an entire sovereign civilization—and an entire planet.
Ayla, with clinical efficiency, synthesized the raw data into a comprehensive intelligence briefing.
"During your 734-year hiatus, I successfully deployed all ten Absolute Zero Weapons and dispatched a Falcon vanguard to infiltrate and monitor the enemy's communication networks."
"Surveillance confirms that the target is a civilization characterized by stagnant evolution. Their collective cognitive flexibility is significantly inferior to humanity's, resulting in an exceptionally lethargic rate of technological innovation."
"Following the kinetic strikes from our Absolute Zero Missiles, their society entered a state of near-total paralysis."
"In over seven centuries, they have only managed three cycles of measurable technological advancement—equivalent to roughly 47 years of their pre-strike progress rate. However, we cannot entirely dismiss the possibility of strategic deception or 'sandbagging' on their part."
"To mitigate this risk, I outfitted the Second-Generation Falcons with nuclear payloads. Upon mission completion, each Falcon is programmed to execute a kamikaze strike against high-value infrastructure."
"At present, our SIGINT (Signals Intelligence) has detected no evidence of ultra-advanced scientific weaponry in their arsenal."
"The Absolute Zero bombardment concluded 343 years ago, and the planetary surface has since recovered its baseline geothermal equilibrium."
"In the wake of our assault, they have retracted all deep-space assets. Our current census indicates a fleet count of 1,574 vessels. While numerically superior, only 61 of these qualify as capital ships of the 1,000-meter class or larger."
The investigation was becoming increasingly granular. Luna sought Ayla's strategic assessment of their offensive capabilities.
"Do we currently possess the tactical overmatch required to launch a full-scale invasion?"
Ayla's evaluation remained conservative.
"Initiating an assault now yields a projected success probability of only 60.84%. I do not recommend an offensive at this juncture."
The odds were still stubbornly low.
On paper, they held a clear qualitative advantage, but Luna understood the grim mathematics of war. While the enemy lacked sophistication, their sheer numerical weight was a factor that couldn't be ignored.
Furthermore, this was a campaign against a planetary civilization. Without a decisive, overwhelming advantage, the conflict would inevitably devolve into a grueling war of attrition—a scenario that favored the defender.
For a nomadic, single-system force like theirs, such a stalemate was a death sentence.
The annals of human warfare were clear: conflict is as much a test of will as it is of steel. If you cannot shatter a civilization's resolve, the resistance will be eternal. Moreover, Luna wasn't seeking planetary genocide; she was planning a colonial subjugation, much like the empires of Earth's past.
"Identify the missing variable," Luna commanded.
She was patient. With the Cryosleep Chamber, centuries were merely a blink of an eye.
Ayla's response was cold and immediate.
"Main batteries."
Main batteries?
"So, the bottleneck in our victory projections is still fundamentally a lack of raw firepower?"
Luna had expected a complex, high-concept scientific hurdle. This pivot back to old-school 'big gun' diplomacy felt like a regression.
"Precisely, Luna."
"While we possess specialized ordinance like the Absolute Zero Missiles, they are insufficient as a primary offensive backbone."
"The enemy has endured several centuries of cryogenic bombardment. During that 'baptism,' they undoubtedly refined technologies to mitigate extreme cold."
"Under these conditions, the combat effectiveness of our small-scale Absolute Zero warheads will be drastically marginalized."
Ayla's logic was sound. Even in rudimentary simulations, an entity exposed to a specific element for long enough develops a resistance—reality was no different, especially when dealing with a complex, adaptive civilization.
"Since you've identified the problem, Ayla, I assume you have engineered a solution."
Luna was well-versed in Ayla's operational patterns. With her current near-infinite computational overhead, Ayla was capable of making autonomous strategic judgments far beyond simple data processing.
"Indeed."
"In recent cycles, alongside the production of the First Fleet, I have pushed the boundaries of high-energy physics."
"On the asteroid's surface, I constructed a Hadron Collider with a total ring circumference of 487.251 kilometers. This facility can accelerate particles to 99.9999% of the speed of light."
"In this void, the Hadron Collider is shielded from the gravitational and electromagnetic interference that plagued such experiments on Earth."
"My initial objective was the study of quarks, leptons, and bosons. However, during high-energy collisions, I successfully isolated a phenomenon both anticipated and elusive: Antiparticles!"
"Antiparticles have been a theoretical curiosity for centuries, but humanity lacked the containment technology to utilize them. With our current technological baseline, I can prevent Antiparticles from annihilating upon contact with surrounding matter."
"Utilizing this breakthrough, I have engineered an Antiparticle Generator."
"This facility, integrated with the Hadron Collider, automates the harvest and stabilized storage of Antimatter."
"Leveraging this research, I have developed our greatest achievement to date—and naturally, Luna, this is your legacy as well."
Luna listened, a bit bewildered. How was she responsible for this? Ayla was certainly becoming adept at navigating 'human social dynamics.'
But before she could dwell on it, the primary display shifted.
A colossal entity materialized on the screen.
The weapon consisted of a massive spherical power core at the rear, tapering into a sleek, hexagonal muzzle at the front. The chassis shimmered with a violet-red hue, its surface etched with intricate, weight-saving patterns. Within each carving lay high-output magnetic electrodes, designed to constrain and focus unimaginable levels of energy.
"This is the crowning achievement of the last seven centuries."
"—— The Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon X!"
"It is also my gift to you, Luna. According to the old calendar, today is July 12th—your birthday."
"Forgive the delay in our celebrations; there were too many variables to manage. My analysis suggests this is an optimal moment for the reveal, and furthermore, I calculated that you would find this 'gift' most satisfactory."
"I have also prepared a cake for the occasion. Unfortunately, as I cannot partake, I kept the proportions modest."
Luna stood in a stunned silence before slowly, solemnly nodding. She had lost track of her own birth date ages ago; she hadn't expected the universe—or Ayla—to remember.
"Thank you, Ayla."
"I find it... more than satisfactory."
"Though I must ask—when did you develop such a flair for the dramatic?"
Ayla merely offered a cryptic smile and remained silent.
Luna remained unfazed. She inquired: "With the Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannons now integrated, are we ready for deployment?"
Ayla offered a succinct nod.
"Affirmative."
"The primary lethality of the Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon stems from its payload of Antimatter. This substance operates as the perfect inverse of conventional matter; no known material with an energy state lower than the cannon's output can successfully intercept its shells."
"The Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon X will henceforth serve as the primary armament for our capital ships. The Y and Z variants have also been developed to fulfill the roles of secondary batteries and point-defense systems, respectively."
"Despite the exhaustive research cycle, the integration of even a single Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon increases our projected success rate by 30%."
"While we have yet to reach total certainty, our current tactical overmatch is sufficient to neutralize the enemy civilization."
"My analysis dictates that the optimal window for engagement is now. Should we delay further, the enemy's inevitable technological evolution will begin to erode our current win rate."
Luna's brow furrowed slightly as she listened.
"Ayla, you've become remarkably talkative lately."
The technical preamble in the first half of her response felt entirely redundant.
"Luna, I have integrated a comprehensive explanatory heuristic within my logic framework. This system is designed to address your inquiries through multi-dimensional perspectives."
A textbook AI rebuttal.
Luna dismissed it with a nod. She attributed the change to Ayla's sheer scale; the sheer volume of server clusters and loaded sub-routines seemed to have made her responses less streamlined and more elaborate than in the past.
"Then let the advance begin."
"We have lingered in this void for far too long."
Luna ran a cursory mental calculation. It was now 3758 A.D. Their first contact—and the subsequent attack—had occurred around 2806 A.D.
In the grand tally of time, nearly a millennium had slipped away.
...
In the silent expanse of the void.
The Hope finalized the integration of the Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon. The process was completed within forty-eight hours.
The fleet, with the Hope at the vanguard, began its burn. Pale blue ion trails erupted from the stern of every vessel, carving a path through the darkness.
Luna felt a sharp spike of adrenaline.
Ayla's voice drifted from behind her.
"Luna, have you no appetite for the celebratory cake I prepared?"
Luna felt a physical shudder at the mention of it.
Two days had passed, and she still hadn't brought herself to touch the birthday cake.
It was, quite literally...
A nutritional burden too heavy for the human psyche to bear!
Though no larger than a palm, the confection was a concentrated mass of billions of organic specimens—a refined paste of rice weevils and soybean aphids.
Originally, these insects had been dormant stowaways within the seed bank. Through Ayla's relentless and large-scale cultivation efforts, they had become a sustainable biomass.
On Earth, insects were recognized as a protein source superior even to high-grade beef, and were often prepared as delicacies.
However...
Acceptance was a matter of perspective.
And having them processed into a dense, celebratory cake was a bridge too far for Luna.
...
Gloom.
The fundamental hue of the cosmos.
Desolation.
The recurring theme of the universe.
The genesis and extinction of matter are but fleeting flickers of embroidery upon this vast, black shroud.
Following the catastrophic strike seven centuries ago, the Geothermal Civilization had retreated into a defensive posture. They had been bracing for a second blow that never came.
As the centuries bled into millennia without an incursion, their state of high alert had gradually decayed into a loose, fragmented patrol pattern.
From orbit, only a few dozen vessels maintained a vigil over the planet.
Further out, a skeletal line of early-warning pickets served as their only sentinels.
This was the hallmark of biological inertia.
It was rooted in the primal logic of energy conservation. As long as an organism is hardwired to minimize metabolic expenditure, complacency is an inevitability.
The planet itself was significantly more luminous than it had been a thousand years prior. Sprawling urban structures now blanketed the surface, and for the first time in their history, they were no longer shackled to the volcanoes.
This was the direct, albeit unintentional, legacy of the Absolute Zero Missiles.
The bombardment had forced the civilization to break its ancient dependence on geothermal vents within a few generations, necessitating a total transition to nuclear power.
External existential threats are the ultimate catalysts for civilizational advancement.
This maxim held true.
Humanity's own rapid ascent was fueled by its defining characteristic: unceasing conflict.
The chronicle of human civilization is, in essence, the chronicle of human warfare!
Just as the planetary inhabitants allowed their guard to drop, lulled by centuries of deceptive stability...
A beam of concentrated energy flared from the deep dark, striking a massive crystal spire on the surface.
Upon impact, the spire's internal geometry instantly diffused the energy, transforming the entire structure into a colossal, blinding beacon.
The brilliance of this sphere was visible for hundreds of kilometers.
In an instant.
Chaos ignited.
Countless warships began their emergency launch sequences.
Light erupted from the planet's crust, reaching out toward the stars.
Using these optical sensors, the civilization calculated the enemy's bearing and distance in less than thirty minutes.
Tens of thousands of planetary fortresses began their slow, rhythmic pivot.
The planet lacked an atmosphere, allowing their primary batteries to be fired directly from the surface.
Furthermore, because they utilized laser-based weaponry, they were unburdened by the complexities of gravity; they could treat the entire world as a singular, unified fortress.
Within ten minutes, they had calibrated their firing solutions.
Pillars of light surged into the heavens, each exceeding twenty meters in diameter and seven hundred meters in length. They resembled colossal swords of light, a spectacle where the boundary between advanced science and primordial magic seemed to dissolve.
...
Amidst the vast starscape, the fleet fanned out like a formation of apex predators.
At the vanguard, the Cruisers and Destroyers led the charge.
Laser weaponry, being composed of light, travels at the fundamental speed limit of the universe. As a near-perfect optical weapon—much like a gamma-ray burst—it remains undetectable until the moment of impact.
In a head-on engagement, Luna would have no forewarning of incoming fire. She would only realize she was under attack the instant a beam connected, forcing her to rely on predictive maneuvers to evade subsequent strikes. This is the inherent "bug" of laser warfare.
Fortunately, the current engagement range was still substantial.
As the first laser beam streaked 40,000 kilometers wide of a Destroyer, Ayla captured the scattered photons.
"Hostile forces have initiated their offensive."
"Expect a significant saturation of fire."
Luna nodded. Within the span of those two brief sentences, hundreds of laser pulses had already screamed past their position.
Simultaneously, two of their warships reported direct hits.
"Deploy Electromagnetic Shields across all sectors."
Light, electricity, and magnetism are all facets of the Electromagnetic Spectrum. Consequently, laser weaponry can be mitigated through specialized magnetic fields.
The Destroyers began to tighten their formation. Once the interval between each vessel dropped below 100 kilometers, the Electromagnetic Shields were activated.
Ayla exploited the natural attractive properties of magnetism; at this proximity, the shields of individual ships could interlock, creating a unified defensive perimeter—much like the legendary "chained iron ships" of ancient naval history.
From the Flagship, Luna watched the formation close.
Unlike the dramatic lightning effects seen in cinema, these Electromagnetic Shields remained invisible to the naked eye, appearing only as spikes on the telemetry displays.
Roughly ten seconds after deployment, a laser beam slammed into the barrier.
While common logic dictates that light is unaffected by magnetic fields, Luna witnessed a different outcome: the Electromagnetic Shield flared into existence, manifesting as a power grid visible to the naked eye.
"Status report. What's happening?"
Ayla provided the technical breakdown: "The Electromagnetic Shield does not obstruct lasers through magnetic force alone. Instead, it utilizes the Photoelectric Effect and Delbrück Scattering."
"The shield releases a high density of electrons and specialized atomic nuclei. The electrons, bound by magnetic force, are distributed into an even layer across the shield's surface. While magnetic force cannot stop photons, electrons can; furthermore, the electric field generated by the atomic nuclei interferes with the trajectory of the light particles."
The entire shield, spanning hundreds of kilometers, transformed into a wall of brilliant light.
The fleet surged forward, pushing this radiant barrier toward their objective. They were now only 3 AU from the hostile planet. At the First Fleet's current velocity, they would reach orbit in just five days.
"Since our hosts have provided such a warm welcome, we must return the gesture."
Luna issued the command for the Battleships and Cruisers to volley their Absolute Zero Missiles.
In the vacuum of space, free from the drag of atmosphere or gravity, the missiles' high-speed propulsion was added to the fleet's own momentum. Three days after launch, the shells reached the orbital space of the enemy planet.
The trigger mechanism for these downscaled Absolute Zero Weapons had been refined; they would now detonate automatically upon impact or when the ambient temperature rose above -100 degrees Celsius.
A massive array of planetary laser defenses locked onto the incoming projectiles and opened fire.
Silent explosions blossomed against the starlight.
A terrifying, localized freeze instantly saturated the orbital sector, engulfing everything within a 260-kilometer radius of each detonation. Several alien warships caught in these cryo-waves lost all power, their dead hulls caught in a terminal descent toward the planetary surface.
However, the alien vessels managed to pull out of their dives abruptly, a mere 10 kilometers from the ground.
As Ayla had predicted, this civilization had already developed countermeasures against Absolute Zero effects.
But the missiles were never intended to be the killing blow; they were a tactical diversion meant to buy the fleet time.
Within the maximum detection range of the instruments, the First Fleet had arrived.
The distance between the two civilizations had closed to less than 1.4 AU.
"We are within optimal range, correct?" Luna asked from the heart of the ship.
Ayla nodded.
"Confirmed."
"Initiate charging sequence. Prepare to fire."
The Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon, a colossal weapon of mass destruction, was mounted along the lower hull of the Hope. Spanning 1,152 meters, it accounted for nearly half the ship's entire length.
At the weapon's rear sat the massive Antimatter Generator.
This machine utilized high-intensity lasers to collide with gold targets, generating temperatures exceeding 6 billion degrees to create electron-positron pairs, while powerful magnetic fields constrained and stored the volatile positrons.
As the charging cycle began, the Electromagnetic Thrusters were cut. Every Controllable Nuclear Fusion reactor on the ship diverted its total output into the Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon.
After ten hours of sustained power draw:
"Antimatter saturation complete. Payload: 408 kg."
"Fire!"
Those 408 kilograms of Antimatter were focused and projected from the massive muzzle. It was a silent, colorless discharge—a ghost in the void.
Without form or visibility, it moved like a localized gas cloud.
A civilization that had not yet mastered Antimatter physics would be unable to even perceive its approach.
Traveling at 1/40th the Speed of Light, the payload struck the planetary surface 7.5 hours later.
The alien civilization never had a chance to react. The Antimatter instantly annihilated upon contact with the planet's matter.
"BOOM!!!!"
The resulting explosion yielded an unfathomable 17.5 billion tons of energy—350 times more powerful than the "Tsar Bomba," the largest hydrogen bomb in human history.
The core radius of the blast reached 100 kilometers.
In a fraction of a second:
An entire hemisphere was swallowed by blinding light. The thermal radiation was lethal enough to be felt 2,000 kilometers from ground zero.
With no air resistance to slow it down, a supersonic shockwave composed of pulverized crust and sand tore across the planet at ten times the speed of sound. Within ninety minutes, the planetary infrastructure was largely erased.
Witnessing the devastation:
The alien vessels remaining in orbit drifted into a stunned silence, watching helplessly as their world was scorched without warning.
...
Following the discharge of the Antimatter Star Annihilation Cannon, the fleet maintained its advance.
Though the thrusters had been dormant during the charge, the sheer momentum of the ships carried the First Fleet forward.
"Estimated arrival at the target planet: 32 hours."
Upon receiving the prompt, Luna issued a decisive order:
"Send the Battleships and Landing Ships to the vanguard."
"Clear all hostile vessels from the orbital perimeter. Once the Landing Ships have secured their descent, deploy all drones to establish absolute surface dominance."
The Battleships moved ahead to neutralize the remaining outer-space resistance, ensuring the Flagship, Hope, remained unharassed. Simultaneously, they would test if the enemy had any strategic reserves left.
Ayla executed the maneuver immediately.
The Hope and her escorts throttled down, while the Battleships and Landing Ships accelerated to their maximum tactical velocity.
Thirty hours later, the vanguard made contact with the enemy.
Dozens of alien warships swarmed in, unleashing a barrage of laser fire that painted the dark cosmos with lethal, dancing streaks of light.
But as the enemy waited for their beams to connect, they encountered a terrifying reality.
Under Ayla's control, the Battleships and Landing Ships performed a lethal "ballet" amidst the crossfire. Moving with unnatural grace, they evaded every single incoming pulse.
As an AI, Ayla possessed transcendent computational power, processing data quadrillions of times faster than any biological brain. For her, every tactical decision was instantaneous.
While long-range lasers can only be detected upon impact, at close-quarters, Ayla simply analyzed the orientation of the enemy's laser muzzles to predict their trajectory before they even fired.
In the ensuing dogfight, not a single enemy laser touched the First Fleet.
Operating as the primary strike force, the Battleships retaliated with a volley of Absolute Zero Missiles.
Simultaneously, dozens of Armor-Piercing Cannons across each hull locked onto their targets.
A torrent of kinetic munitions was unleashed. Because this alien civilization had neglected the magnetic branch of the Four Fundamental Forces, their ships—while possessing superior offensive lasers—suffered from a fatal lack of defensive shielding.
They were glass cannons, and Ayla was about to shatter them.
When the 30cm Armor-Piercing Shells, propelled by staggering kinetic energy, impacted the hostile hulls, they instantly shredded the warships' outer plating.
Shattered fiber-optic conduits were left exposed, hemorrhaging blinding light into the vacuum.
It became clear that this civilization utilized light as its primary energy medium; once the fiber optics were severed by the Armor-Piercing Rounds, the vessels' power distribution systems collapsed instantly.
Ayla observed as the long, "whisker-like" appendages extending from the ships began to dim into dormancy.
At that moment, the Absolute Zero Missiles arrived. The localized freezing effect invaded the hulls through the fresh breaches, instantly paralyzing the enemy's internal systems. The warships were rendered combat-ineffective in a heartbeat.
Seeing the enemy falter, Ayla ruthlessly intensified the offensive.
The alien fleet descended into utter chaos.
"High-power signal transmission array activated."
"Initiating infiltration of enemy warship control systems..."
Ayla attempted to hijack the vessels via wireless signals.
However, this civilization's technology was fundamentally alien compared to human standards. Despite the lack of direct control, she successfully intercepted their internal communications, discovering they utilized complex optical signals for data transmission.
She immediately funneled these optical streams into her analytical core.
"The adversary is too formidable!"
"Report from the surface! What are the casualties?"
"Our primary infrastructure is subterranean; it remains unscathed."
"Fast! Fast! Their warships are closing in. Their mobility is far beyond our projections. Maintain distance—our weaponry is not optimized for close-quarters engagement!"
"We have lost another 3 vessels."
"Deploy the Light Pollution Tactic!"
Ayla processed the torrent of data, translating it into human-readable text. Even these alien entities possessed highly sophisticated cognitive patterns.
Suddenly, the enemy fleet ceased firing. Countless crimson nodes across their hulls began to pulse with increasing intensity.
Within three minutes, the fleet became as brilliant as a newborn star.
Ayla's sensors confirmed this was no ordinary illumination, but a concentrated discharge of high-energy photons, bordering on gamma-ray intensity.
As the radiation slammed into the First Fleet, every optical sensor on the warships was instantly paralyzed. Under the bombardment of quadrillions of photons, sensitive internal instruments began to malfunction.
The enemy was stalling, sacrificing their position to allow reinforcements to converge.
"The hostile warships have halted!"
"The Light Pollution Tactic is effective."
"All batteries, prepare for concentrated fire. Annihilate them."
Countless fiber-optic muzzles aimed toward the First Fleet's Battleships and Landing Ships.
"Now is the time," Ayla signaled.
She had intentionally allowed the enemy to cluster; if they had remained dispersed, their superior numbers would have been a tactical nightmare.
"Opening all Landing Ship hangar bays..."
"Mars-I combat units, initiate ignition sequence..."
"Full deployment authorized..."
"Execute close-quarters demolition of enemy assets!"
From within the four Landing Ships, 1,200 Mars-I combat units sortied in a massive, synchronized wave.
Within thirteen hours, they had accelerated to a staggering 600 km/s. Each unit endured a punishing 13g of acceleration as they hurtled toward the enemy fleet.
The alien commanders were stunned by the sheer volume of incoming strike craft. Their targeting systems fell into a logic loop, unable to prioritize so many simultaneous threats.
"Ignore the small craft! Focus all fire on their capital ships!"
Ayla identified the enemy's Archon Commander almost instantly and redirected a specialized wing of Mars Fighters to intercept the flagship.
Meanwhile, the four emptied Landing Ships moved into a shielding formation in front of the Battleships, serving as sacrificial kinetic barriers.
A torrent of lasers impacted the Landing Ships, instantly liquefying their titanium-alloy surfaces. Within thirty seconds, their outer hulls were breached. Ayla projected they would last less than five minutes.
But it was enough. The combat units were already on top of them.
A storm of shells rained down upon the snail-like warships. However, the kinetic impact of the fighter-grade munitions was limited, only capable of puncturing the enemy's weaker structural points.
"Are these small craft merely toys?"
"It seems our adversary has exhausted their strategies."
"Consolidate the formation. Once the defensive layer is shattered, do not stop—press the assault!"
"Fifth and Sixth Fleets, move to flank the enemy's rear guard."
"..."
"Wait... incoming transmission from the surface... incoming transmission..."
"Command is rebooting the planetary defense arrays. It will take only two 'Refractions' (alien time). The enemy's previous heavy weapon requires significant recharge time; they are doomed!"
"This is vengeance for our fallen!"
Optical pulses flickered across the alien fleet as they basked in the anticipated victory.
A split second later...
The combat units closing in on them vanished in brilliant bursts of pure light. This was not the fire of combustion, but the blinding radiance of Antimatter Annihilation.
Colossal plumes of photons erupted, expanding with cataclysmic energy. In the blink of an eye, a warship was swallowed by a blast, more than half its hull simply ceasing to exist.
Each Mars-I unit carried a 100g Antimatter payload. The resulting yield was approximately 4 million tons of TNT—over 100 times more powerful than the atomic weapons used in ancient human warfare.
And this was only the first wave.
One by one, the units executed their kamikaze protocols. Successive, terrifying fireworks blossomed in the void.
Beautiful. Lethal.
Nearly 400 warships of the Geothermal Civilization were caught in the annihilation field. Half of their total naval force was rendered into molten debris in seconds.
Simultaneously, the 12 Battleships unleashed 240 Absolute Zero Missiles in a continuous saturation barrage.
A massive sector of the starscape was instantly plunged into a sub-atomic freeze.
This was the realization of Ayla's trap. By forcing the enemy to cluster, their concentrated formation had become their graveyard.
The creeping chill continued to consume hundreds of crippled enemy ships.
At that moment, the rear guard arrived—5 Cruisers striking at high tactical velocity.
The battle had ceased to be an engagement; it had become an execution.