"I tend to think that the entity responsible for all this is not a life form with a highly subjective will."
After summarizing the intelligence, Jeming concluded.
"It resembles more of a... ’non-life entity’ running a certain fixed, grand program. Our awakening and contact, as long as they don’t touch its core directives or cause large-scale disturbances, might be deed ’tolerable errors’ by it."
This conjecture made the atmosphere in the room even more eerie.
In Reks’ mansion, shielded by layers of technological asures, the two "awakened" who reached a preliminary consensus fell into a brief contemplation over the snippets of information currently collected.
A social atmosphere eerily peaceful, a universe vast and real, "fallen ones" likely numbering far beyond estimations, and an all-encompassing, orderly invisible network...
All these clues point to an unfathomable system behind the scenes.
However, like scattered pearls, they lack a thread to connect them.
"All ’anomalies’ seem to be covered and digested by a powerful ’order’." Reks tapped his fingertips on the tal table, producing a rhythmic light sound, "Except for one place..."
Jeming raised his head and interjected, "The frontline."
Indeed, only that star field where the so-called "alien threat" is engaged, is a place of persistent "chaos" and "conflict" in this vast, peaceful, orderly universe.
If there is a flaw in this "system," that is undoubtedly the place where it is most likely to be exposed.
With the target clear, Jeming and Reks imdiately took action without hesitation.
Utilizing Reks’ identity as a renowned young engineer on "Anvil Star" and a few non-impactful but favored technical optimization plans he provided to the military, the two successfully obtained special access and observer status to a certain frontline star system.
A few days later, they boarded a military rapid supply ship transporting spare parts and energy cores, traversed several heavily guarded stargates, and arrived at the frontline planet codenad "Iron Curtain."
As soon as they arrived, they could distinctly feel the environnt of "Iron Curtain" was entirely different from the rear.
The sky was perpetually shrouded in tallic-hued heavy dust clouds, the surface dotted with reinforced permanent fortifications, radar arrays, and massive energy shield generators.
Ozone and the acrid sll of tal friction perated the air, while an invisible tension seeped into every corner of the base.
Due to Reks’ "technical advisor" identity and the "friendly" technology they brought, they received an invitation from the base commander.
This was a middle-aged general with a determined face and eyes filled with fatigue.
Out of respect for the supporting technology, they were treated with so courtesy.
However, for the sa reason, when they requested to observe frontline battles closely or even visit the foremost outposts, they faced an adamant refusal.
"No, absolutely not!" The general’s tone left no room for negotiation, "You two are valuable technical talents, and the rear needs you more. The frontline is too dangerous, with stray bullets, energy splashes, even those elusive infiltrators... I cannot let you take such a risk. This is an order, and it’s for your own good."
No matter how they emphasized "the importance of data collection for technical improvents" or subtly hinted at possible "higher-level directives," the commander wouldn’t relent.
Ultimately, the two had to settle for a compromise.
They were allowed to stay at a highly guarded observation post several hundred kiloters away from the actual combat line, to "watch" a small-scale conflict that had just erupted through the remote observation system.
On the huge holographic sandbox, light spots representing enemy and allied units clashed fiercely in a rugged canyon area.
Jeming and Reks locked their eyes on the main screen’s magnified and enhanced real-ti battlefield images.
Dozens of dark red figures, varied in shape, sward out of the canyon’s shadows, launching an assault on the human automated defense positions.
"Those are..."
Jeming’s pupils contracted sharply.
At the forefront were creatures about three ters tall, moving on four limbs.
Their bodies were covered in a dark red keratinous layer resembling cooled lava, with joints emitting a hot orange-red glow, leaving scorching footprints on the ground as they sprinted, capable of spewing high-temperature plasma fireballs from their mouths.
This form, this attack thod... they were exactly what Jeming knew as a cannon fodder biochemical beast — Molten Core Hound!
Only these Molten Core Hounds were larger, darker in color, with joint areas covered by chanical battle armor.
Then another creature sliding along the ground like a shadow caught their attention.
They had almost no fixed form, resembling flowing black sludge.
Yet they could suddenly leap up, using sharp energy spike limbs to easily tear through light armor.
They excelled at attacking from visual blind spots and could even interfere with electronic devices briefly.
"Void Predator..." Reks’ voice ca through.
This was a peculiar creature living near spatial rifts, often captured and modified by so wizards adept in shadow and spatial magic for reconnaissance and harassnt.
And there were flying units hovering swiftly in the air, dropping corrosive sli balls.
Burrowing subterranean units suddenly erged to destroy positions...
Among these "alien creatures" appearing, many characteristics closely matched the contracted creatures or elental life from the Wizard World, commonly used in plane wars, cost-effective, and easy to control.
They weren’t exactly identical, with adjustnts in details, seemingly modified a second ti using this plane’s technology.
On the battlefield, the human defenders, relying on automated turrets, energy shields, and soldiers in power armor, resisted tenaciously.
The explosion of fire, the whistling of energy beams, the screeching sound of tearing steel, all transmitted through the observation system, showcasing the intensity of the battle.
However, Jeming and Reks’ attention was no longer on this.
They exchanged a glance, both seeing an enlightening realization in each other’s eyes.
"No wonder we couldn’t find the traces of those cannon fodder units; they all ended up here," Jeming said.
Reks’ expression beca a bit serious, "There should be wizards among those fighting humans, yet these things still launch attacks, indicating that even the mindless cannon fodder units can be ’covered’."
"And besides so familiar cannon fodder units, there are many unfamiliar-looking creatures on the battlefield. Though unclear if they are other unfortunates or indigenous people, it seems the logic for faction division in this world is based on appearance."
Jeming nodded in agreent and turned to look at those "alien creatures" on the battlefield:
"However, over the years, news hasn’t reported much about these creatures. It seems, these are likely combat units or cannon fodder units in alien civilizations."
Reks imdiately understood Jeming’s implication, "aning, there’re still ’real aliens’ as operators of these war machines hiding behind."
(Extra Chapter, more to co.)
User Comments
0 comments from readers