The resistance continued to unleash planet destroying attacks upon the deities, causing them to reel backwards.
For the Overseer, they finally released their deity disintegrating canon, powered by hundred supernatural beings who were at the strength level of an Alpha ranked mixedblood.
They released this indigo beam that crashed forward with unstoppable impact towards the Overseer.
Boom!
A loud explosion, followed by a storm of purple wave that consumed everything within a one million miles radius.
Even the fleets were swallowed up by this purple wave but fortunately, they had shield generators that made them intangible for a few seconds, protecting them from the wave of destruction.
In the meantime, visibility was pletely butchered. They couldn't see anything for at least a full minute before the wave finally cleared.
And when it did, what was staring them at the face shocked them greatly.
The Overseer was still seated without even as much as a scratch on him.
Even the deities they had attacked earlier on, leaving holes in them, suddenly began laughing hysterically.
Their laughter raged across the galaxies as they held their belly region in intense amusement. The holes on their collosal forms closed up as they pointed at the fleet of the last resistance while continously laughing.
"They really thought they were winning..." one of them let out another rasp of laughter.
"Oh it is so fun to give mortals hope, only to snatch it away again..." another voiced out in delight.
Everyone within the resistance had grim faces upon hearing this. They had just fired the most powerful weapon in their arsenal and yet, it didn't so much as scratch these beings.
They had underestimated what they were up again. And it wasn't that they were weak... their opponents were just too powerful.
Right now, they were pletely out of options.
The deities began toying with the fleet, flying around them and slapping the hull of their ships playfully just to show them that the fate of the resistance was pletely in their hands.
"Don't play with your food..." the Overseer had enough so he simply raised one hand.
And the front row of the resistance fleet, over fifty ships imploded into dust.
Screams filled the lines.
"Shields down!"
"We've lost navigation—!"
"They're in our minds—THEY'RE INSIDE OUR MINDS—"
The deities who obviously revered the Overseer greatly, advanced indifferently.
They moved as one collective will, sendint a tidal wave of divine power that swallowed up the last sparks of rebellion.
Some of the powerful beings within the fleets, burst through to battle with the Overseer directly.
They unleased powerful supernatural attacks upon him and the deities in the vicinity.
The Overseer didn't even look their way.
A mere vibration of the deity's aura shattered hundreds of attacks and sent them flying into an asteroid, cracking its crust.
After thirty minutes of brutal bat, the resistance had been reduced to:
A handful of cracked ships.
A rain of burning debris.
Hundreds of thousands dead.
Dozens left alive.
Finally, the Overseer stepped forward.
In a voice that shook existence itself, he spoke:
"Creation does not resist its creator."
And with a swipe of his cosmic hand—
Space folded.
Time shattered.
Reality tore like wet cloth.
Every remaining ship twisted, crushed, and evaporated in a single instant.
When the brilliance faded, there was nothing left.
No ships.
No army.
No leaders.
Just drifting dust scattered across the cosmic void, slowly swallowed by the expanding dominion of the deities.
The universe was lost.
Hope was dead.
And the Last Resistance had perished without leaving even ashes.
...
...
~ The Hidden Star ~
As days turned into weeks, the visions stopped ing gently.
They no longer arrived only in sleep.
They came when Angy was awake.
While walking. While eating. While listening to others argue. While staring into the artificial sky of the Hidden Star.
At first, she thought it was grief... like her mind breaking under the weight of Gustav's absence. That was what she told herself. That was what she needed to believe.
But grief didn't repeat itself with mathematical precision.
Grief didn't show the same symbols again and again.
Grief didn't evolve.
Every vision was different.
Different places. Different sensations. Different fragments of reality folding in on themselves.
But there was always one constant.
A point.
A singularity.
A place where everything collapsed inward... not destroyed, not erased, but contained.
And Gustav was always there.
Suspended...
She began noticing details she hadn't before.
The way time behaved strangely around him. The way the void refused to consume him. The way reality bent around his absence, like a wound that hadn't healed.
And then there was the other thing.
Something she had tried very hard to ignore.
Every time she reached toward him in the visions…
there was resistance.
She was starting to realize that...
The visions weren't warnings.
They weren't prophecies.
They weren't madness.
They were instructions.
The next cycle, the group gathered again.
Same hall. Same table. Same cracks in unity.
Only Angy was different.
She sat quietly with eyes unfocused and her mind still echoing with the truth she now carried.
E.E stood near the center with arms crossed tightly.
"We lost contact."
The room stilled slightly.
Falco frowned. "Lost contact with who?"
"The last resistance group," E.E said. "The one that went out three cycles ago. The strongest remaining force."
Alero straightened. "They were supposed to send a signal within forty-eight hours."
"They didn't," E.E replied flatly.
Silence followed.
Then, slowly, realization crept in.
Elevora whispered, "…The deities are still active."
"They never stopped," Aildris said grimly.
E.E nodded once. "Which means if the last resistance hasn't checked in by now—"
"They're dead," Falco finished.
The word hung in the air like ash.
No one argued that point.
There was no need.
If the deities were still tearing through systems unchecked, then the resistance had failed.
pletely.
E.E exhaled sharply. "This is exactly why we can't just charge in blindly."
Alero slammed his fist on the table. "So what? We do nothing?"
"We wait for something that actually works!" E.E snapped back.
"And while we wait, more worlds burn?"
"And if we rush, we die — just like they did!"
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