He paused, then shook his head slightly. "No. Not exactly."
His gaze shifted across the damaged patterns etched into the bedrock. "These runes are extrely old. Many segnts show heavy degradation from ti itself. This isn't a complete formation."
After a mont, he concluded, "It seems this planet once belonged to an ancient civilization—one that left behind a powerful and mysterious array. The Minotaurs are rely using fragnts of it… and even that much has proven troubleso."
"That's nothing we can't handle," Jarvis said dismissively.
He flicked his hands and continued issuing orders. "Prepare the fighter squadrons and the ch units for imdiate deploynt. The fighters are to neutralize any aerial threats the Minotaurs can still muster. At the sa ti, they will provide cover for the construction swarms as they establish preliminary settlents across the planet."
His tone remained cold and precise. "Deploy the ch squadrons into the cities once orbital operations conclude. Their objective is to locate and eliminate any remaining Minotaur officials. No exceptions."
He paused briefly before adding, "At the sa ti, redirect Capital Granola to the capital city of B-01. She is to dismantle the underground facility protected by the so-called Dragon Protection Array. Capture those inside if possible. If not… she knows how to handle it."
Jarvis's eyes narrowed down a bit. "While the ch units are deployed, ensure they thoroughly crush any remaining will to resist among the Minotaurs—if they have any left at all."
"Now inform the relevant parties," Jarvis said coolly. "And deal with those flies heading toward our ships. They're becoming an eyesore."
He glanced at the tactical display, where Minotaur fighter jets could be seen racing toward the fleet across the planetary map.
"As you command, Captain," the officer replied, imdiately relaying the orders through the ship's onboard AI.
"Captain Granola," another transmission began, "you are hereby assigned the following directive—"
At the sa ti, a different officer coordinated with the surrounding vessels, issuing synchronized commands for fleet-wide interception. Minotaur fighters attempting to approach were marked and prioritized for elimination.
In response, dorsal-mounted weapon systems across every ship encircling the planet rotated in unison, locking onto the incoming targets.
PEW. PEW. PEW.
Precision turbolaser fire lanced through space, streaking toward the oncoming fighters with deadly accuracy.
One of the Minotaur fighter pilots, burning with rage, forced his jet into a steep, aggressive climb toward the enemy ship, fury threatening to burst out of him.
Then he saw it.
On his combat helt display, targeting indicators flared to life as the enemy ship's weapons locked onto his position. In an instant, all his rage vanished, replaced by pure terror.
He opened the comms and shouted, "Damn it! Everyone, split! Split! INCOMING!"
He threw his fighter into a violent dive, jerking it left and right at extre speed, desperately trying to evade the inevitable.
But he wasn't fast enough.
BOOOOOOM!
A thick green bolt of plasma slamd into his fighter. The energy charge tore through the shields as if they weren't even there, then chewed straight through the hull. The craft erupted into flas, breaking apart midair as burning debris spiraled toward the ground below.
The sa fate befell more than a thousand Minotaur fighters across the planet. What was ant to be a desperate show of resistance was erased in monts. Entire squadrons were annihilated before they could even form a proper defense.
On the ground, within the few military facilities that were still barely operational, Minotaur officers and soldiers stood frozen in disbelief. Terror etched itself onto their faces. So collapsed to their knees, their resolve utterly shattered.
"By the primordial ancestors…" one whispered, his voice trembling. "Just who are these people our race has offended? How… how are we supposed to survive this? And yet… we're expected to resist them?"
His words faded into silence, swallowed by fear and the thunder of destruction still raining down from the skies.
"Just like that… they wiped out nearly eighty percent of our remaining airworthy fighters," another voice added, panic seeping through every word. "H-how are we supposed to defend ourselves with what little we have left?"
Sweat stread down his face as his hands trembled.
Suddenly, the barely functioning orbital radar flared ominously red. An alarm echoed through the chamber, sharp and urgent, signaling that multiple objects had entered the planet's orbit.
The Minotaurs stared at the display, their faces turning pale even as dread darkened their expressions.
"W-what are those signals?" one of them stamred. "Are those enemy forces heading toward us?"
The radar feed shifted. Target markers split apart, dividing into multiple groups.
"They're splitting," another said in disbelief. "Each group… around forty units."
"L-look—one group is heading that way!" soone shouted.
"The others too… they're moving toward our cities and bases all across the planet!"
Panic erupted.
"They're coming for us—damn it! What do we do? If they reach the surface, they'll turn our cities into living hells—worse than they already are! We can't let them land!"
A mont later, another voice broke through the chaos.
"We… we still have the hidden planetary defense weapons. The ones we kept concealed from the system. Many of them should still be intact—still usable."
Hope flickered, fragile but desperate.
"M-maybe we can use them to buy so ti until reinforcents arrive," he continued. "Even a little ti could make a difference."
"Y-yes… yes, we should do that," soone agreed quickly. "At least it gives us a chance to stop them from bringing the fight to the ground. Most of our ground forces were already wiped out by the orbital bombardnt, and with enemy ships still overhead, they're useless anyway."
A tense silence followed.
"Yes…"
It wasn't confidence that settled over them—only desperation clinging to the last, fading hope they had left.
It remains to be seen if this desperate attempt can truly stand against the might of an enemy that toppled their entire planet in a matter of minutes. Whether they could possibly harm, or even delay, the invaders from achieving their goal was sothing they felt far from confident about. Yet, they will do what they can—for it is the only choice they have left.
anwhile, on Planet B-02, a small squadron of the First Battle Fleet erged from warp, reappearing roughly three thousand kiloters directly in front of the planet's space station.
What greeted them, however, was very different from what Captain Jarvis had encountered on B-01.
This ti, the Minotaurs were ready.
Although little ti had passed and the assault on B-01 had only just begun—with only its space station destroyed so far—the Minotaur command there had already managed to warn the other planets. Within minutes, defenses across B-02 were brought to full alert.
The mont the unknown ships were detected, the Minotaurs did not hesitate. Weapons mounted on the space station powered up and opened fire, joined imdiately by the defensive warships stationed around it. At the sa ti, multiple orbital weapon platforms activated, unleashing their fire in unison.
The Minotaurs were deadly serious this ti.
They had no intention of letting the First Void Fleet's ships descend unchallenged—and they were determined to bring them down at any cost.
The Minotaurs watched in breathless silence, their thoughts frozen, as waves of energy, kinetic rounds, and missiles surged toward the forty or fifty enemy ships that had just erged from warp.
At first, it looked as though the attacks were about to strike ho. But the mont the barrage reached the enemy hulls, it collided with their shields instead. Energy blasts flared outward, rippling across the shield surfaces, while hundreds of missiles detonated in violent succession around the small fleet. Space itself was swallowed by overlapping explosions and roaring fire.
Seconds passed.
Slowly, the explosions faded.
And the Minotaurs' eyes widened in disbelief.
Not a single ship had been brought down. The enemy vessels still hung there in space, unmoving and intact—without even a scratch to show for the assault.
Had they known their weapons were far too weak to penetrate the shields of the Void Fleet, they would never have believed it possible to destroy those ships—especially when their own defensive fleets had already failed to do so.
But they hadn't known.
And they wouldn't have long to dwell on that realization.
With the lone battleship of the Antares class at its center, Captain Athena de Grace watched as attack after attack crashed against her fleet. Brilliant waves of energy struck the shields, only to be effortlessly dispersed, their glare occasionally obscuring her view of the space station ahead.
She smirked.
"Well, for effort alone, these Minotaurs deserve ten points," she murmured to herself. "But if they think this ager display of attack power can harm us… oh, how wrong they are."
"Grace," she said calmly.
A beautiful woman ford beside her, composed entirely of light. She had the sa golden eyes as Athena, and hair just as blond, glowing softly as if lit from within.
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