Chapter 300: The Lanterns Reluctant to Part with Allen
Planet Asros.
The five command fleets of the Annihilation Zerg were ready for deployment.
Unlike the Starship Bugs, which were biological warships, these were genuine steel warships.
"Your Majesty, the signal has suddenly stopped."
Inside the observation tower, the Annihilator was waiting for his subordinates to calculate the coordinate tunnel data.
Upon hearing the report that the signal had been cut, a look of deep disappointment crossed his face.
Without successfully constructing a data model, opening a dimensional passage rashly would undoubtedly plunge them into a chaotic space-time storm—with only one outcome: total annihilation.
If opening dimensional passages were truly that simple, the Annihilation Zerg wouldn't have had to wait so long. They would have already found numerous viable universes suitable for habitation.
"Is this a complete failure?"
The Annihilator murmured to himself in despair.
The broken signal suggested that his offspring had perished. With no surviving entity to transmit data back from negative space, there would be no more opportunities to touch that universe—ever.
Perhaps in the near future, the Annihilation Zerg would descend into civil war due to dwindling resources.
"Your Majesty, the signal is intermittent."
Upon this second report, a spark of hope reignited within the Annihilator.
As long as his offspring weren't dead, there was still a glimmer of possibility.
He gathered numerous experts to discuss countermeasures. The final conclusion: more time was needed to build the data model.
…
Before the true crisis facing the universe descended—
The war against the Zerg was already drawing to a close.
As for Ronan, it was impossible for him to come clean. Doing so would be the same as confessing and voluntarily walking into a military tribunal—execution would be inevitable.
Setting aside the sheer number of lives lost because of him—
Just the fact that the war had weakened the three major interstellar empires enough to allow the Spartan Empire to take advantage and invade—was already enough for him to be sentenced to death 800 times over.
Boom!
The final Starship Bug exploded in the depths of space.
At last, the Zerg War was declared over.
The scattered remnants of Zerg across ecological planets in the galaxy were no longer a threat.
The three great interstellar empires didn't immediately form a united front, but instead invited Allen to join them in requesting peace talks with the Spartan Empire.
After all, the defeat of the Spartans in the past owed much to the Seven Lantern Corps.
Now that Allen had temporarily formed the Rainbow Corps, it was only natural that he represent the Lanterns in this negotiation.
A projection screen dropped down.
Before Allen, four figures appeared.
The Supreme Intelligence of the Kree Empire—essentially a gigantic head suspended in a nutrient tank.
The Duelist of the Shi'ar Empire—sporting a striking mohawk. Apparently, both men and women of the Duelist species had a thing for mohawks.
The Queen of the Skrull Empire—green-skinned and pointy-eared, resembling not an elf but more like a green-skinned orc. Of course, her kind possessed the ability to change both physical appearance and gender, and could even copy superpowers.
The new King of the Spartan Empire, Bier—resplendent in his military uniform, seated on his throne with an air of superiority.
"How should we address you?" asked the Supreme Intelligence, speaking with notable humility.
Being a super artificial intelligence, it specialized in situational analysis.
For Allen to single-handedly earn the loyalty of the galaxy-renowned Seven Lantern Corps proved that his power was not to be underestimated.
"I am the one and only, the handsomest Lantern of all time—never seen before and never to be seen again—so dazzling that I wake myself up every day from sheer handsomeness, which causes insomnia, hormonal imbalance, and yellow foamy pee: Allen."
Allen declared shamelessly, "When it comes to looks, I've never lost."
Unbelievable.
The Seven Lantern Corps must have gone insane to pledge allegiance to this guy.
"Enough nonsense,"
King Bier interrupted coldly. "I don't want to waste any time."
"Sir, we are willing to forgo reclaiming the lost territories," the Skrull Queen offered, "on the sole condition that your side halts further invasions."
The war had inflicted devastating losses on the three major empires. Privately, they had decided to adopt an appeasement policy.
The goal was to buy time to recuperate and prepare for a future counterstrike.
Thus, Allen was brought in to act as a deterrent to the Spartans—a symbolic reminder that the former allied forces still shared mutual interests.
"A ceasefire is possible."
King Bier leaned back in his seat, assuming a high-and-mighty posture. "But we demand control of the star gate network in your territories."
At that moment, the three leaders fell silent.
The star gates were critical infrastructure. More than just transportation hubs, their strategic value was immense.
Handing over control would mean giving the Spartan Empire access to the entire network. With their advanced technology, they could use it to invade and strike at the very heart of the other empires.
"Not my problem. I'm going back to the Void Realm to hang out with my teammates."
Allen felt out of place and raised his hands in surrender, signaling his withdrawal.
"Smart choice, you unevolved monkey," King Bier sneered.
In the galaxy, many humanoid races existed. The Spartax, with their peak technological superiority, looked down on other human-like species and routinely referred to them as "monkeys" in derision.
"Eat sh*t."
Allen exploded in rage. "You @&#, you son of a #%!, you #%!…!, screw your *@&$#, and your *$%@ ancestors too!"
He unleashed a tirade that cursed eighteen generations of Bier's lineage.
The three leaders stared at Allen's incessant barrage. He showed no signs of stopping. In fact, he only got more riled up, even using hand gestures to help illustrate his insults—
For example: forming a ring with his thumb and forefinger, then jabbing a pointed hand into it, stretching the ring wide open, and finally miming a powerful kick straight through it.
Hiss...
That was outrageously offensive.
The three leaders collectively gasped.
The negotiations were clearly doomed.
King Bier's face turned dark with rage, as if he wanted to tear through the screen and shred Allen to pieces.
Clearly, he was at a disadvantage. Raised with the decorum of royalty, he had never encountered such vulgar language—and frankly couldn't even comprehend half of it. But even the literal interpretations were physically repulsive.
Behind Allen, the Seven Lantern Corps were dumbstruck by his trash-talking prowess—it rivaled his combat abilities.
"I'm the main character of the Western comic universe. I beat up DC's Justice League and bully Marvel's Avengers. You're just some random, no-name extra trying to act tough—what are you, a half-god with a cape and a chip on your shoulder?"
Allen pressed his hands down in a gesture of finality, then calmly asked, "So, you gonna apologize now?"
"You—!"
King Bier trembled with fury, then spat out a threat: "There will be no ceasefire! Not until one side is utterly defeated and forced to surrender. I will crush the entire Seven Lantern Corps!"
Allen shrugged and replied lazily, "Not my problem. I'll disband them tomorrow."
"..."
At that moment, King Bier's eyes bulged in frustration. It was like punching a pillow—no resistance, no satisfaction.
The projection ended.
He was probably too angry to sleep tonight.
Meanwhile, the Seven Lanterns all had the same deadpan look on their faces.
Seriously, boss?
You start this mess, then shove the consequences onto us, while you just peace out?
Can you at least act human?
"I hereby declare the Rainbow Corps disbanded. Everyone, head home."
Allen waved at the Lanterns, but they just stood there, unmoving and silent.
Disbanding now meant they would be left holding the bag.