Subspace, some unknown dimension

"Everyone."

"We may be in trouble."

During the subspace voyage, the Tuchucha engine suddenly spoke.

The icy sound of an unknown metal element combined with the ripples of ancient wisdom echoed through the empty conference room of Luthor's Sword of Caliban, alike two genetic protogens and a great mortal.

"What's the trouble? Can you be clear, Tuchucha Engine? ”

After looking at each other, it was Luthor who spoke first, the closest of all to the ancient creation, and a hint of worry inevitably flashed in his pupils, which had been regained by the Spider Queen's transformation surgery.

This is perfectly reasonable: no one likes the word trouble, especially right now, when all of them, and indeed their entire fleet, are in the depths of subspace, on a dangerous voyage that they can't actually maneuver.

And at this time, the only ancient creature that could sustain this voyage and ensure the safe landing of hundreds of warships suddenly spat out the word [trouble]: but if you think about it a little, then a terrible future can make cold sweat soak everyone's back.

Thinking of this, Luthor even distracted part of his vision and looked at Virgo, who had always stood beside Tuchucha's engine, but only got a helpless expression.

Fortunately, at the same time that the uneasy aura had just risen, the disgusting, yet unconsciously convincing metal tone of the Tuchucha engine sounded again.

"It's a calculation, Mr. Luther."

"Through a comprehensive analysis of the shipping routes, recent conditions, subspace flows, and future possibilities, supplemented by some reasoning and experience, I have finally come to the conclusion that after about half a Terra standard time, we will be in trouble."

"Tell me more."

Riemannus, who was seated in the main seat, lowered his voice, and his opening surprised the others: whether it was the Nostramo sitting on his left, or the Caliban on his right.

"To put it into details: after about half a Terra standard hour in your mouth, our fleet will encounter an inevitable interference in subspace navigation, which will act like a black hole, sucking some ships and life forms out of the fleet."

Riemannus and Luthor furrowed their brows at the same time: in the few days they had been together, they had already seen the power of the Tuchucha engine, so they would not doubt the truth of this ancient creation.

"Is it inevitable?"

The Fenris's voice was hoarse, as cold as the Tuchucha engine was usual.

"If the subspace route is adjusted now, there is a chance that this trouble will be avoided, but it will also delay the trip by about five days, and it is very likely to cause even greater damage in the future: I need to remind you, everyone, that this is not a [subspace storm] that exists in your cognition, but is part of an incomparably large sacrificial ritual."

"The center of this sacrificial ritual is at the destination of our trip: the Randan, and we are about to enter the edge of this ritual after half a Terra standard hour, and we will be affected, and this effect is that part of the fleet and life will be sucked away by the ritual, like a starting machine pumping some fuel from a storage tank."

The Tuchucha engine quickly finished its words in a rather rhythmic metallic voice, and if anyone listened carefully, they would have discovered that this mysterious subspace artifact was actually mimicking the speech style of a certain Lord of Avalon with its mechanical sound.

But no one cared about this anymore: neither Riemannus, the de facto mastermind of the entire fleet, nor Luther, who was unanimously respected by the entire fleet, were discussing with each other in a rather serious whisper, but Conrad, who was sitting on the sidelines and seemed idle, turned his head to look at the Tuchucha engine, and then asked.

"You said part, how much?"

The Tuchucha engine then spat out an approximate percentage, making Riemannus and Luthor's faces even more ugly: such a loss was unacceptable to them, even greater than their losses in the previous battles.

Conrad, on the other hand, was not alarmed, not even the slightest surprise, as if he had expected all this: perhaps because of his prophetic powers, or perhaps because of what he had seen and heard by the Spider Queen, he understood that the words of the Tuchucha engine always took a turn.

This is a mysterious machine that is no different from ordinary intelligent beings, and it has a special hobby: maybe it was learned from some Lord of Avalon, or maybe it.

So......

"Don't be so alarmed, you two."

Conrad adjusted his chair and leaned against it, leaving only a half-silhouette of Luthor across the table, his steel boots resting on the precious ironwood, his long black hair spreading out like fine silk, and his metal claws catching the dead skin at the corners of his mouth.

In such a state, he looked at his brother and reminded him with a smile.

"Didn't you hear, Riemanruth: it says it's not a subspace storm, it's some kind of giant ritual, and even the center of the ritual is in the Randan system, our destination."

Although the Midnight Wraith's reminder was like his bad nature, with Nostramo's characteristic elusiveness, Riemanlus was not a beast like his appearance after all, and after less than a second of thought, the Fenris slapped the table heavily and looked at the Tuchucha engine in front of him again.

"You didn't tell us everything, Tuchucha Engine!"

"You didn't ask those questions, Mr. Lemanruth."

The words used by the subspace artifact to answer the genetic prototype were neat, as if it had been prepared for a long time.

“……”

Fenris's brow jumped, with a certain ferocity, but he quickly reined in it.

"You've made it clear that this is an alien ritual, not a subspace storm: is there any difference between the two? Give me a clear answer, you only have one chance! ”

This obvious brute threat caused Virgo, who was in charge of the Tuchucha engine, to raise her head, but when she glanced at Riemanlus's alleged anger, she lowered her head again.

"The difference between them is simple, Lion of Riemannus: if it were an ordinary subspace storm, then these involved warships would have been completely lost, and even I don't know what their fate would be."

"But if this is a ritual started by aliens: then these warships will definitely be teleported to the center of the ceremony, and those members on it will also be scattered in the Randan system in your mouth, and they may be scattered on ships that also belong to humans, but they may also be scattered to the ...... In the array of the Randans. ”

"It all depends on the amount of energy that the ritual contains."

“……”

Luthor and Riemanruth furrowed their brows again: the possibility pointed out by the Tuchucha engine was like a glass of wine in the desert, blurring the reality between good and bad.

"Is there really no other way?"

Luthor looked at the Tuchucha engine.

"Change course, or make a temporary jump into the real universe and stay for a while to avoid the [trouble] for half an hour? Can't you do that? ”

"I can do it, Mr. Luther: but I would like to remind you that as long as you continue to move towards the Randan system, you will definitely be affected by this alien ritual, and from a probabilistic point of view, the least costly option is to let this ritual suck some of the ships and members."

"Since your final destination is the Randan system, and these swept warships will arrive there, then this option is essentially not a problem: it is true that some of them will be swept directly into the land of Randan, but on the whole, these losses are insignificant."

“……”

Riemanruth and Luthor looked at each other in silence, and they both could see a hint of wavering in each other's pupils, but some inexplicable uneasiness and concern blocked their way to acknowledging this reality.

Soon, a voice from Nostramo interrupted their uneasiness.

"Listen to it, Ruth."

Midnight Ghost turned around at some point, his crazy eyes sweeping over his blood brother, and a smile opened his persuasion.

He looked at the Tuchucha engine first.

"Machine, can you figure out which warships will be affected?"

"Yes."

Tuchucha spat out several names that were destined to be affected, but fortunately there was no irreplaceable national weapon in it.

"Very good"

Midnight Wraith nodded, and when he turned his head to look at Riemanruth and Luthor, he rolled his thin lips and uttered a mad remark that made the two listeners look bad.

"You've heard the names of those ships, I'll be sent to one of them later, move quickly, I don't want to miss this last train."

“……”

"What are you crazy about! Conrad! ”

Riemanruth's roar was more permeating than Fenris's most terrifying blizzard, but when the wolf king's pupils met the midnight ghost's frighteningly calm vision, his rage was like a warhorse halting in front of a spear array, and he fell into a brief panic.

"Rest assured, Ruth."

"And you, Luther."

There was no madness, no hysterical, Nostramo-esque laughter, and when Midnight Wraith uttered these words, his countenance was unsettlingly calm, and his voice carried a certain deadly persuasiveness.

"First of all, I want to tell you that I am neither mad nor insane: though my next words will render my two conclusions meaningless, I hope you will trust me, for you are truly intelligent people, and you can see that my present state is not madness."

"So, I'm going to tell you: I need to be sent to those ships, I need to follow those chosen warriors, be swept away together, and arrive at that battlefield in a different way, and I even know where I'm going to land and what opponents and resistance I'm going to encounter."

"Peace of mind, two, I won't die."

"At least not die here."

Midnight Wraith smiled, a conservative one, not showing a single terrifying tooth, but simply curling the corners of his thin lips.

"As for the reason, I can tell you here too: both of you should be aware of some kind of future talent I have, which sometimes torments me, but occasionally provides some useful help, as it is now."

"In the accurate prophecies I have found, I see my trajectory at the time of this war: I will not arrive at the battlefield in the normal way, I will have my own mission and mission, challenge and adversary."

"I also knew that when I faced all this, I would be alone."

"I see them, guys."

"And me, and the Midnight Ghost."

"I'm not going to run away from all this."

——————

"If that's what fate wants me to do......."

——————

[Then let it come......]

【……】

[That doesn't change anything.] 】

“……”

"What are you talking about, Morgan?"

When the Lord of Caliban finally returned to the command room of his flagship, he found his most trusted blood relative muttering to himself standing in front of another, more elaborate ornith.

[Nothing, Johnson, but I think you should come and check this out.] 】

Johnson's appearance did not surprise Morgan: although the dark angels guarding the door remained as quiet as ever, several old guards who were also guarding the door had already paid tribute to the lord of Caliban.

"What's that?"

Johnson leaned in, his armor still filled with an indelible stench, a mixture of fallen corpses, burned cities, and desperate cries, which could only be born in the bleakest of battlefields: when Morgan smelled it, even if she had her eyes closed, she could naturally associate this foul smoke with Johnson.

In the memory of the Spider Queen, the Lion of Caliban seemed to be like this.

[As you can see, Johnson, this is a ground model of Randan's home planet: more than 10,000 unmanned reconnaissance planes have been wiped out, and combined with this state-of-the-art ornith, and my own detection, this most accurate war sand table has been shaped for use. 】

Johnson nodded in satisfaction.

"Do you see what?"

[Not really. 】

The Lord of Avalon shook his head.

[Obviously, my brother: I am far inferior to you in the search for a fighter to better send these aliens to hell, and what we need now is advice from a true war artist.] 】

“……”

The corners of the Caliban's mouth curved slightly, and he quickly threw himself into his work, shifting from sword fighting to fighting on the sand, constantly searching for hunting opportunities in the steel jungle.

On his side, the Spider Queen was doing the same thing, but instead of Johnson, who focused on the core of the planet, she had her eyes on the entire planet, observing the remote areas that Johnson didn't care much about.

The actions of the two genotypes seem to be completely opposite intrinsically, but when they work together like this, they embody a kind of complementarity that perfectly bridges each other's shortcomings: Johnson has always lacked a multi-threaded brain to deal with all things inside and outside his career, and Morgan has always been bad at seizing fleeting opportunities on the battlefield, but when they join forces, all this is no longer the problem that once bothered them.

I don't know if this is a tacit understanding cultivated in the long battle side by side, or some invisible genes that have been engraved in the bloodline by birth.

But it didn't matter: when the Spider Queen's pupils were occupied by the Bird Divination, she didn't have time to think about these little things.

What do you think, Johnson? 】

“……”

The Lord of Caliban was still thinking, his vision wandering among the terrible fortresses that seemed immutable.

“……”

"It's a bit difficult."

"In my vision, even if there is a point in the future where Holy Terra needs to be armed against an all-out war: then our defensive preparations will be nothing more than that."

He said, then pointed to the places with the highest strategic value.

"You see, Morgan, it's a highly urbanized and industrialized world, and we can clearly see the military production and storage areas, and these huge engines that are constantly supplying the planet with an abundant supply of energy, and I can even conclude that most of it is being used to maintain their defensive barriers."

"Not to mention the barracks area: while we've wiped out a large number of the Randan Elite in the Void and Orbital Defense Networks, I have no doubt that they still have a large army on the surface, and while they may not be as numerous as they used to be, they are enough to overwhelm us."

“……”

"The world is completely armed, their void shields and anti-aircraft firepower are enough to compete with our fleet, and perhaps casting an extermination order is the best option."

As he spoke, Johnson looked at Morgan, but the latter only shook his head solemnly.

Look here, Johnson. 】

Morgan stretched out his hand and pointed to the final point where the countless intricate cobwebs on the ground intersected and entangled, which was the absolute core area of the Randan Empire.

[This is their palace, Johnson. 】

The Spider Queen's finger pointed to a twisted replica of Terra's Palace, an impregnable city of cascading façades, rising steep and steep slopes, towering towers and massive turrets, and a dense network of trenches that connected them: and in the middle of this fortified city, a towering alien fortress stood proudly, its golden and high battlement walls, protected by countless spires and anti-aircraft ramparts. There is a layer of looming strange ripples on the outermost part, which makes people feel jealous.

Even Johnson could see that this ripple was by no means a thing of the real universe.

[You have also seen it, Johnson: Until we find a way to destroy the strange and powerful subspace defense force field in this Randan Palace, even the extermination order will not be able to destroy this palace, and if the palace is not destroyed, we will not be able to claim victory in the war. 】

"There's no other way?"

Johnson hesitated, and he frowned.

Morgan laughed.

You may be a little offended by my words, Johnson: But fate would never allow a vast empire like Ran Dan that once crossed the sea of stars to fall because of a storm of destruction. 】

[Whether we want to or not, no matter how much we desire to destroy Randan, then we must complete the most resolute ritual: through a bloody war, break through their walls, enter their palaces, and completely raze their capitals, because from a metaphysical point of view, only when all this is done can it be called the true extinction of a great empire. 】

[There must be a siege, it can be short, it can be boring, it can not even be bloody and crazy enough, but it must exist, as the sword mark used to seal the end, the day of the fall of the empire that deserves to be remembered. 】

[Only in this way will people truly feel that at a certain moment, an empire has really perished, rather than wondering in their hearts whether there is still some unknown continuation of this empire. 】

“……”

Johnson was silent for a few moments before snorting contemptuously.

"Where's the rule?"

[Subspace, everything there is a little different from what you imagined. 】

The Spider Empress just spread her hands calmly.

[Of course, if you don't believe what I say, it's okay, I will try to break through the subspace defense arranged by the Randan Palace in the realm of psionic energy, but I want to tell you that because of the existence of this Randan mother planet under our feet, I can't exert excessive power here, so this psionic ritual may be very long.] 】

"How long?"

I'm not sure, I'm not even sure if I'll be able to break them, but it's going to take at least a few days: and that's why I called them in Riemannus. 】

“……”

Johnson looked at the bird again.

"It's not your fault, Morgan, they have plenty of time to gear up and draw enough power from their profane history: look at the haphazard monster soldiers, they are definitely not what the real universe can evolve into, they must have used evil spells from the depths of the subspace."

[It's just the end of the road.] 】

The Spider Empress sighed in a low voice, and beside her, the Lord of Caliban quickly made up his mind: Johnson was never too hesitant.

"Then let's go to war."

He said.

"As always, I'm in charge of directing this siege on the ground, see if you can find some way in the psionic realm, and by the way, command the fleet on the track, and provide the necessary cover and support for my legion."

"Also, inform Riemanrus that they speed up: in five days, I hope to be able to see their troops, even if only a part of them, as soon as possible."

[My legion and auxiliary army are also under your command, Johnson: Save a little, I don't know when I will need them in the next few days. 】

"I will: I promise you."

Johnson nodded, very solemnly, more like an oath.

"But first, we have to think about ......"

"How can we tear a hole in the Void Shield network that these aliens have operated for countless generations, and this is a necessary first step."

【……】

“……”

【……】

“……”

[I have an idea, Johnson. 】

"Say."

【……】

Have I shown you the gifts my father gave me? 】

(End of chapter)