Sitting in the cramped confines of the rcury base, the man lightly tapped his fingertips, logging into the information terminal. The first thing he clicked on was a web forum, where a highly stickied post imdiately caught his eye: "The Complete Victory in Ultramar!"
The man sighed and opened the post. Sure enough, it was published by [Developer Terrabyte], complete with the official tag. He quickly scanned the contents.
[MISSION DEBRIEF]
The Tyranid swarm, descending from the void beyond known space, descended upon Ultramar's Five Hundred Worlds like locusts—gorging themselves on entire star systems, their hunger insatiable. They even dared assault the Primarch himself, coveting his flesh for their grotesque evolutionary hunger.
But Super Earth was not defenseless.
You had us.
The Helldivers Corps stood the line. When those xeno abominations ca crashing down, we were there to send them screaming back into the darkness.
Plantidium held. We held it hard.
Our lines did NOT break.
When the Helldivers arrived with the Space Marine reinforcents, we didn't just fight back—we crushed them. We obliterated that swarm and drove every last one of those bugs off world!
HOWEVER, remain COMBAT READY, soldiers. This victory has stirred sothing worse. The threats in the void grow restless, more aggressive, more desperate. Intelligence confirms it: the Tyranids WILL return. They WILL co back harder, stronger, hungrier than before. Expect increased hive fleet activity across all sectors.
Stay vigilant. Stay ard. Spread the word of Super Earth's power.
MANAGED DEMOCRACY WILL PREVAIL.
Following this were so non-essential updates—mostly UI tweaks and minor optimizations. The man quickly scrolled past them until he reached the final video. He clicked 'play.'
The video opened with a glimpse of a terrifying giant beast faintly visible in a deep crater, covered by a dense purple mist. One could only vaguely make out its two scarlet eyes, and even just watching it on a screen sent a shiver down the viewer's spine.
Then, the cara smoothly tracked upward toward the sky. Initially, the sky was empty, but a mont later, a dazzling pinprick of light appeared. The light rapidly expanded, nearly covering the entire screen and almost blinding the viewer.
The cara moved down with perfect, fluid precision, tracking the descending light spear as it struck the monstrous beast. The colossal creature, terrifying monts before, was instantly vaporized and disintegrated into nothingness by the light from above.
The man scrolled down. The comnts section beneath the main thread was buzzing.
"Holy cow, zero warning on that last video. I watched it at night, and my roommate thought the sun ca up."
"At first, I thought that beast was a serious threat, but it got lted by one light spear before it even fully erged. Nice power display, though—maybe 1/10,000th of my average attack."
"I wonder when our fleet will get weapons this epic. When we do, all the villains from those Earth apocalypse movies will look like a joke."
"Maybe never. Not because it can't be built, but because the ga's setting is a space opera, and it's hard for to imagine space combat going back to 19th-century 'big guns' battleship warfare..."
"So, when is this ga finally opening up the creator workshop?"
Further down were mostly uninteresting discussions. The man closed the post, leaned back in his chair, and let out another long, audible sigh. "So I missed the orbital bombardnt after all."
He turned his head toward the robot he had just finished repairing. It stood silently beside him, its surface smooth and gleaming.
"I'm talking to you, buddy," he grumbled at the inactive robot, his voice tinged with frustration. "Of all things to break, it had to be your chip, and it had to be high-energy solar particles that fried it. If I hadn't spent the whole day fixing you, I could have at least logged on to see the orbital strike with my own eyes! Mr Handy my ass! You're useless!"
After a few more complaints, the man looked back at the glowing monitor and mumbled, "Being alone on rcury is just too isolating..."
It was at that mont he happened to glance out the base window—and caught a flash of silver light against the backdrop of the enormous sun!
At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks, but he quickly realized sothing was wrong: the silver light didn't vanish; instead, it grew closer and closer, heading straight for the base!
A sharp sense of alarm jolted the man. He instinctively reached for the weapon resting beside him. However, the silver light was blindingly fast, arriving in an instant.
The man even managed to register its form: a basic human outline with only two faintly glowing eyes visible within its features. Its entire body seed to be composed of countless flowing runes, moving so fast that it appeared as a solid silver blur—it looked a little like the Silver Surfer from Marvel Comics.
The entity paid the man no mind, rushing straight into the information terminal. Then, everything returned to normal, as if the whole event had been his imagination.
The man, weapon now gripped tightly in his hand, was profoundly uneasy. He warily scanned the tiny base, trying to spot any hint of abnormality. Just then, the base's artificial intelligence spoke up, its timing perfect.
"Mr. Robert Robertson, are you alright?" The AI's voice was calm.
"I—I'm fine, Long March," the man repeatedly circled the small base, trying to find any clue. "Did you see that just now? A silver light shot in, straight into the information terminal. It looked kind of like the Silver Surfer."
The AI was silent for a few monts, apparently running data retrieval and analysis. After a few seconds, it replied: "I have checked all visual recordings of the rcury base from its construction to the present. No footage matching your description was found. I believe your ntal state is no longer suitable for solitary duty on rcury, and I have reported this to Earth Aerospace Center."
"For your safety, I will lock down the base's entrance and exit channels. Please remain calm inside the base while you await rescue."
"Uh—okay," the man muttered. He conceded that whether the event was a hallucination or not, he probably shouldn't be on rcury anymore. Experiencing hallucinations in this extre, isolated environnt wasn't unheard of, especially since he was already irritated about missing the "orbital bombardnt."
Afterward, the AI surprisingly began to complain: "I warned the Center before that space exploration should ideally involve at least a multi-person team. It is the best choice for improving efficiency, protecting personal safety, and maintaining ntal health.
Why was the Earth Aerospace Center in such a rush? If you return this ti without a concrete reason, I will have no choice but to report and criticize them for acting too hastily for glory."
Although the voice was still a standard chanical tone, the inflection was unexpectedly human. The man's initial anxiety was soothed by the AI's concern. Long March always managed to calm everyone's minds through the smallest details.
Being the psychological consultant for every human was one of Long March's most important duties, sothing especially noticeable for those stationed off-Earth.
The man felt the Central Authority was perhaps becoming slightly fanatical about psychological health, but for deep space exploration, a little overcorrection was probably necessary. How many TV shows and movies ended with the main team wiping itself out due to psychological issues?
So, he didn't argue with Long March. He simply sat back down, listening to the base's operating hum and gazing out at the imnse sun and the exceptionally small and desolate rcury surface beneath its glow.
_________________
I wonder as well why is humanity expanding at such an alarming rate?
What are they scared of?
Hahahaha!
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