Chapter 12: The Choice
Sacrifice.
The foundation of civilization is built upon sacrifice.
The blood of hunters is spilled on wilderness teeming with beasts, the bones of warriors are scattered across ancient battlefields. When forced to fight against powerful alien races, it is the voluntary sacrifice of the brave that allows more people to survive the onslaught.
From the most ancient bark-books, we can know that as early as tens of thousands of years ago, chaos already existed. At that time, our species had no magic, no battle qi, no aether, no psionic energy, and of course, no holy light. We had nothing. To win the right to live, we had to sacrifice.
Tens of thousands of years ago, our ancestors fought, watering the fertile soil of civilization with blood and entrails. We sacrificed continuously, advanced continuously. Heroes raised their banners, leading countless people forward, stepping over the bones of pioneers. Our blood allowed the new generation to be born, allowing the bloodline to continue. Even though our civilization found one powerful force after another in constant battle—the radiance of mana and battle qi shining like lighthouses, illuminating the path of our civilization—the cornerstone that built those lighthouses was still the countless sacrificial bones of our ancestors.
Zesel flipped through the ancient texts. This creature, with two rows of eyes, four arms, and a lower body that moved like a serpent's slither, was surrounded by a visible fluctuation of psionic energy. It silently read the ancient history recorded in the book in its hands, completely indifferent to how noisy the surrounding environment was.
"The Mycroft civilization has fully awakened—this is no small skirmish. Their warships race through the void, arriving at the very edge of the star river!"
"We should have noticed last time when we tracked the ancient dragon into the abyss. Being able to simultaneously dispatch multiple 'Legendary'—is that what they call it?—Legendary-rank super lifeforms, aside from those abyssal demon lords, only they can do that."
"Chaos is awakening. We detected the fluctuations of an evil god... Although those fluctuations were quickly suppressed by the Mycroft people, they will surely return, just as they have awakened."
"Is it the return of chaos that caused the awakening of the Mycroft people, or is it the awakening of the Mycroft people that caused chaos to decide to return?"
"Do not forget, my kin. It was precisely because of 'their' arrogance back then that we were forced to shrink back here, barely surviving!"
This was a meeting that would decide the future fate of the Shatur civilization.
Around the huge oval conference table, elites, leaders, and scholars of the Shatur people were engaged in heated debate, each trying to convince the other.
The Shatur people. This name, perhaps few civilizations in the multiverse remember it. But if one were to say 'Star Gods,' then many races would surely show expressions of sudden realization, and then become vigilant.
The Star Gods were once a behemoth in the central star river, ruling over dozens of star domains. From the very beginning of their birth, this civilization had been fighting against chaos. Their home world was located near the nest of an evil god's minions. And in the very year the Shatur people stepped into the void and proclaimed themselves gods, they completely eradicated that chaotic breeding ground, placing its final remains as their trophy in the very center of the central hall.
The Shatur people were fortunate, and the Shatur people were also unfortunate. Fortunate, because aside from one chaotic minion nest, there were no other more powerful, terrifying behemoths near their home world. Unfortunate, because this ambitious civilization, full of desire for the distant unknown, was born in this star river that contained the Mycroft civilization and the Sanctuary civilization.
Young civilizations that have never experienced that era can never imagine the despair and terror of those times.
The stars and star domains they had once observed, the stories and legends they had once fantasized about, and the ancient constellation tales, were all merely insignificant stars within the territories of super-civilizations. Long before their civilization was even fighting against beasts, the void warships of super-civilizations had already passed over their world, and had even watched the sacrifices and struggles of their ancestors.
They were able to step into the void only because the void civilizations of the central star domain had no habit of crushing seedlings. And the chaos invasion they considered a great enemy was merely a low-level threat that couldn't even contaminate a single world.
The arrogant Shatur people, after several setbacks, learned to develop in a low-key manner. They no longer showed xenophobia, but gradually turned neutral. Because they knew that a civilization that rejects other civilizations would only be crushed like an ant by a more powerful civilization. Several extremist civilizations taught the Shatur people a lesson with their own destruction. The most prominent among them was an artificial intelligence civilization—those metal heads that annihilate everything, enough to exterminate the entire Shatur race, unhesitatingly crashed into the Mycroft civilization, which was engrossed in its own grand wonders. As a result, the entire fleet was ground into ashes by a powerful deity.
Gradually, they began to expand, trying to catch up with the most advanced civilizations. The Sanctuary civilization, which didn't mind other civilizations learning from them, was happy to see this. This giant federation's drafter invited the Shatur people to join their sanctuary's charter. The Mycroft civilization, on the other hand, was immersed in its own world. They ruled over vast territories, but would rather create one demiplane and wonder after another than govern those enclaves that were too far away.
"One day, distance will no longer be distance. We shall master the boundless deep void."
This was the favorite saying of the Mycroft people at that time. These hairless, two-armed, two-legged upright beings were so arrogant that they didn't even deign to look down at other civilizations. Even when the Shatur people's territory expanded to the scale of dozens of star domains, in their eyes, it was just a child that had developed a bit better.
And in fact.
Their arrogance was not arrogance, but fact.
When the Shatur people realized this, everything was already too late.
Darkness was descending.
The brilliant galaxy was shrouded in shadow.
Countless evil gods and demons descended upon the entire star river. An unimaginable number of chaotic monsters swept across myriad worlds. And because of this, the fate of the Shatur civilization was completely changed.
Fleets collapsed, fortresses crumbled. Under the assault of multiple evil god minions, the seemingly thriving Star God civilization collapsed one after another, losing every battle. First, the farthest enclaves, then the colonies around the central star domain. Under the surging tide of chaos, the flames of civilization were extinguished one by one, and the entire star river turned into a pitch-black dark domain.
The Shatur people were fortunate, and also unfortunate.
Fortunate, perhaps due to luck, perhaps due to destiny, no evil god went to attack them. Just the attacks of the minions, at least the defense of the home star system could be maintained.
Unfortunate, aside from the home star system, hundreds of billions of Shatur colonists died completely. Their souls dissipated, their bodies decayed, becoming food or energy sources for the chaos minions.
So, they sealed themselves off.
The Shatur people sealed their home star, sealing their civilization within a single world. They trembled like ostriches, harboring the mentality of 'If I don't see you, you don't see me,' desperately trying to weather this winter.
In fact, they succeeded.
Thousands of years later, the name of the Shatur people still existed, unlike other civilizations that had turned to ashes and scorched earth.
Zesel closed the ancient book in its hand, then looked up at the conference table, still in the midst of debate.
"Stop arguing."
It said in a deep voice. And with this powerful Shatur's opening, the entire conference table fell into instant silence. "If before, they didn't come to us because they disdained to, then now, they don't come to us simply because they don't have the time."
"We actually have no choice at all. Since the Mycroft civilization has reappeared, it's only a matter of time before they find us... Whether it's equal communication or extorting resources, do you think we have a choice?"
Zesel laughed softly. "The weak never have a choice. So, it's better to choose the timing ourselves."
Some other Shatur people nodded, some shook their heads, but no one voiced any opposition.
This was the small privilege that Zesel, as the civilization's strongest, could enjoy.
"Is this really not actively exposing ourselves..."
A voice, still carrying a hint of reluctance, echoed faintly in the meeting room. "Chaos has reappeared. Why don't we continue to hide? We no longer have the strength to fight a decisive battle with those monsters again..."
What greeted this statement was Zesel's cold stare.
This Shatur waved its hand, creating a huge light screen in the center of the conference table. The screen flickered, then displayed the current appearance of the Shatur people's home world.
One could see that this was a small continental world. Seawater occupied sixty percent of the world, with only forty percent being land.
The Shatur people's meeting room was located at the top of a two-thousand-meter-tall skyscraper.
And similar skyscrapers, densely packed like fungal hyphae, clustered like a beehive, occupied thirty percent of the continent's area. The other seventy percent was also mostly occupied by a large number of super-giant buildings.
Industrial and population pollution had turned the coastal seawater into a grayish-black. The clouds in the sky were a grayish-brown, with strong corrosive properties. Tens of billions of Shatur people were crammed into this small world. They wore protective masks, slithering through countless sky bridges and pipelines. There was not a shred of hope in their eyes, only the deepest numbness.
Sacrifice.
For the continuation of civilization, the Shatur people had already sacrificed too much.
When the last golden fleet of the Shatur people acted as a rearguard for the retreating migration ships, everyone thought that was the final sacrifice. Just like the brave warriors of ancient times who stood up to protect their home tribes, choosing death so that more could live.
But it wasn't until the migration ships arrived at the home world, and billions were crammed into this small continent, that they understood the true meaning of sacrifice.
When survival itself becomes a torment, loving death is merely a choice. Since nothing could be worse than the present, why not try to go out actively and choose a future with more possibilities?
"If we go out actively, we might barely find a glimmer of hope for the Shatur people." Zesel looked up, staring at the starry sky that had become incomparably dim compared to thousands of years ago. It said helplessly, "If we continue to stay in this world on the verge of destruction, we will have absolutely no future."
The Shatur people were not the only ones making a similar choice.