Chapter 52: The Year of Revival (Perspectives of Other Civilizations)
The void is vaster and more immense than the universe.
Therefore.
Wars in the void are also vaster.
In the 109th year of the Third Era, at the beginning of the Year of Revival, the homeworld, following the orbit of the Sky Father, entered a harsh winter season far from the star's orbit. Our fleet, as it had for the past several hundred years, left this small star system during this inhospitable season and ventured into the void to patrol.
The Sky Father was the name of the gas giant planet our homeworld orbited. On the tundra of our homeland, its pale blue form could fill the entire sky during the day, hence it was revered as the Sky Father. Two other habitable planets also orbited the Sky Father, which we affectionately called 'Mother' and 'Brother'.
During the infancy of our civilization, thousands of years ago, countless stories revolved around these celestial bodies. Our homeworld, 'Cradle', spun serenely surrounded by Father, Mother, and the satellite 'Sister', and our race grew quietly within the Cradle.
History rose and fell with stirring grandeur, and time, like an epic poem, flew by in the blink of an eye. Our civilization grew and matured, our horizons broadened. We launched ships into the stars, explored interstellar space, probed the boundaries of our world, and then entered the void, arriving on the grand stage of the myriad realms. Of course, over thousands of years, we had our internal conflicts and disputes, but we were ultimately one race, one entity. All contradictions dissipated with time, and we marched forward hand in hand.
— We once believed this was the new beginning for our civilization, with the vast star rivers and futures of the void awaiting our exploration.
But reality told us that this was our limit.
The World Star River was not empty. In fact, it was filled with all kinds of civilizations — because of the existence of transcendent power and souls, intelligent civilizations were more numerous than we imagined. Every shining star was a thriving world of life. Among these worlds were races that had unlocked the secrets of entering and exiting the void, and beings like us who had just begun our journey. Of course, powerful void civilizations, far stronger than us, certainly existed as well.
And they were always malicious.
They came, from a nearby star. Their warships were larger, more advanced, and had weathered more battles than ours. They discovered us, so they launched an attack. Fierce artillery fire and special forces of transcendent beings capable of crossing the void struck us, causing heavy losses. We retreated step by step, were pushed back to our homeworld, back to our home star system. We were furious, but our fleet was reduced to scrap metal. Even 'Sister' was shattered by powerful main cannon fire, her debris scattered in orbit, forming a sparse asteroid ring — so we had no choice but to surrender, submit, and accept their control.
The Koshians — that was their name. They were a vast empire occupying over forty worlds and ruling five vassal states. Our nation had to acknowledge them as suzerain, our people had to hand over a quarter of their production, our scientists and transcendent beings were arbitrarily conscripted by them. Although our fleet was not disbanded, it had to obey their commands and engage in various dangerous battles.
We were not allowed to colonize, expand, explore, or conduct research they forbade. They destroyed our culture, attempted to reshape our people, and turn us into their dedicated miner race. But for various reasons, this final step could never be successfully achieved.
This was our fortune, yet also a tragedy — placing all fate in the hands of luck — is that not the most bitter sorrow a sentient being can feel?
And just as our fleet was preparing for its routine patrol of the surrounding void, hoping to scavenge some rare void resources, their orders came again: they had detected massive upheaval in a nearby star river. A war was brewing. According to them, many civilizations, even several extremely powerful ones, were preparing to observe the situation. Conflicts might arise between these entities, potentially escalating into a melee, and they might be able to gain some benefits from it.
Of course, danger was always for us, and benefits for them — that was the fate of the defeated and the vassal. Yet even so, if we could scavenge some wreckage of advanced civilizations' warships, it might slightly improve our technology and national strength… This was a hard-won opportunity for progress; we had no choice.
So the mighty fleet sailed through the void. We were at the forefront. The Koshian transcendent beings, clad in battle armor, moved alongside the warships, trailing dazzling magical light. We had also mastered such radiance, but our powerful transcendent beings were always forcibly taken away and never returned to our race. Thus, our heritage grew increasingly scarce, until now, it was difficult to recover.
We flew numbly, leaped, traversed the void, and arrived at the empty space between star rivers. The fluctuations of space-time were calm, but only upon arriving here did we feel regret and fear — because this originally vast and empty region was now filled with reconnaissance ships and fleets from countless civilizations. And an immensely massive fleet, large enough to distort the star river itself, was also advancing.
That was the Knowledge Seizer, one of the most powerful civilizations in this Multiverse Star River. They patrolled silently among the seas of stars, passing by all civilizations that interested them, taking over all knowledge that interested them. We should be grateful for our weakness and ignorance, because then they would not bother with us. The Seizer would not waste their energy on civilizations already confirmed as 'valueless'.
"We should retreat."
Soon, we sensed new energy fluctuations — fluctuations so terrifying they made even the countless stars tremble. The approaching entity was undoubtedly immensely powerful. And at the other end of the star river, a series of terrifying auras suddenly flared up. The Knowledge Seizer and these two other auras formed a tripartite standoff. These civilizations, powerful beyond measure, were confronting each other across the void between star rivers. Without a doubt, this was no longer an area where weaklings like us could observe.
"Continue forward!"
But the Koshians' orders remained as tyrannical as ever… blinded by greed. We knew their thinking: they speculated that the three powerful civilizations were confronting each other because the civilization deploying a defensive array at the other end of the star river had discovered some secret treasure or an extremely important ancient relic — they wanted to know what precious treasure or relic was being guarded, and attempted to gain some benefit from it.
The Koshians' greed was neither strange nor insane. In this star river, many civilizations had rapidly grown strong by discovering secret treasures and ancient relics. Their legends and stories were known even to us. It was not surprising that the Koshians, who knew even more, would be driven mad by it. Moreover, it was us taking the risks, not them, so they were naturally willing to be generous at others' expense.
So we and other vassals were forced to continue forward — we did not engage head-on but took a detour from another direction in the void. After all, the area connecting star rivers was vast; there was no need to take the shortest, most convenient straight line… And at that moment, the war began.
We could not describe the magnificent blaze of light — the first to attack were the fleets forming the defensive line at the other end of the star river. They were few in number but strange in shape. Eight void behemoths, as vast as small worlds, served as their bulwarks. The worlds on the backs of the void behemoths slowly opened their shields, revealing the grotesque fortress complexes of biomass behind them. Countless small ships, resembling plants, took off from them, dense as a swarm of bees.
Then came the slaughter.
Most of the fleets that were watching, observing, or attempting to bypass their direction like us were annihilated in an instant. And it was not mere explosions. We could see distant shell-like ships hit by a twisted space, instantly flattened into a painting-like plane, and then reduced to the finest dust by the void's correction. We could see the Rankmoi fleet mostly destroyed by attacks too fast for observation instruments to detect; annihilated elements turned them into brilliant fireworks in the void. We could see shadows spreading through the void; all warships that failed to dodge, after firing one or two main cannons, could only sink helplessly into this darkness, then be devoured into nothingness.
Energy particles, bright as suns, rose from the flagships of those fleets. They formed a circular array in the void, tearing space-time, seemingly summoning some enormous mechanism. We could vaguely glimpse the ferocious and beautiful fragments of it from behind the rifts in space-time, an extremely dangerous aura emanating from within.
The Knowledge Seizer's fleet was solid and powerful. Their shields were linked together, withstanding all attacks. They also began to counterattack. Energy particles traveling at sub-light speeds and energy arcs tearing space-time filled half the void. We could only flee in panic, even refusing the Koshians' furious orders for the first time, turning directly to escape.
And turning to flee with us were countless other observers. They fled in disarray, their banners drooping, their orderly formations full of holes. They seemed to have faced a nightmare. The attack methods were too bizarre to even comprehend. Even if we picked up wreckage, it would likely be a curse, not a blessing.
One by one, the warships we once considered powerful fell, turning to dust. The Tarr flagship lost its radiance; their ring-shaped giant warship, now like a bitten donut, was breaking apart in the void. This void civilization fleet, which had contended with the Koshians in this star domain, was fleeing in wails, leaving behind large patches of broken wreckage. We could receive their panicked hyperspace transmissions, filled with terrified screams.
No matter what secret treasure or relic it was, it was not something we could obtain. The Koshians were too arrogant. We were merely ants in the starry sky; how could we meddle in the struggles of giants? Civilizations without self-awareness would eventually meet their doom.
Just like the Koshians.
Most of the observing civilizations were cleansed. The Knowledge Seizer and the unknown civilization on the other side accomplished this simultaneously. They cleared the battlefield and now began their standoff again, launching probing attacks and defenses. The advancing metal star river also temporarily halted, beginning to build magnificent void fortresses — but just as there are always fish that slip through the net, the Koshians and their vassals who did not turn and flee with us actually managed to pass through the dense crossfire of both sides, surviving the deadly line.
They seemed to know their own nebula, so without any pause, they accelerated, preparing to head deep into the star river to evade the attacks of these two terrifying civilization fleets. We could hear the communication channels filled with cries of relief and incoherent prayers… But the excitement was temporary. They thought they had escaped the attack range of both sides, but we clearly knew that was not the case.
It felt like falling into an ice cave. When the massive circular array tore space-time and summoned that enormous steel construct into the void, our hearts turned cold. Although we had no idea what it was for at that moment, it was undoubtedly a weapon that even a super-civilization would treat with caution — the pinnacle of technological crystallization.
Soon, we knew — it was a flower, a flower forged from steel. It had not yet bloomed, looking like an elliptical seed. Countless flexible, living metal pipes, like roots or blood vessels, covered its surface, like steel-forged veins. These veins divided the entire seed into sixteen sectors, each separated by transparent crystal layers.
And now, under the infusion of surging energy, this seed began to 'bloom'. The metal sectors, thousands of meters long, began to extend, taking the shape of petals. What had been constrained at the very center by these metal petals was a massive, constantly rotating, expanding and contracting ball of ethereal light. Once freed from the metal petals' confinement, this light ball began to project ribbon-like, pale blue bands of light around it, like a silver-blue flower revealing its stamen.
It floated steadily in the void, enveloped in bright, soft, pale blue light bands. Thick ethereal radiance swirled and coiled around it, like a solar corona.
At the moment the petals bloomed, we felt it — an extremely dangerous gaze sweeping across the entire starry sky. It swept over us, then ignored us, the weak. But even so, the feeling of being seen through to the very marrow of our bones remained imprinted in our souls. It coldly observed everything in the void, then silently focused its gaze on the Koshian fleet.
Light blossomed from the metal flower. The pale blue ethereal radiance pierced the dark void, shining upon the fleet the Koshians prided themselves on.
And then they vanished — in an instant, completely and utterly gone.
The Koshian fleet was finished —
This fleet, with a history spanning thousands of years, having conquered dozens of void civilizations, possessing multiple vassals, and winning countless honors; this fleet recorded and eulogized in thousands of history books, leaving behind numerous glorious achievements, military exploits, and legends — vanished silently like dust under the sun, like tears in the rain. And neither they, nor we, nor any other civilization secretly witnessing this scene from afar, could understand it.
How did they do it?
But this was not the time for questions.
We were fleeing at top speed.
Thousands of warships were destroyed. The Koshian main fleet was annihilated. Such an end was not surprising for beings who used force to suppress, conquer, and enslave other civilizations. But our hearts ached, because among that fleet were our own people. They had been conscripted by the Koshians, reluctantly leaving the tundra homeland of their homeworld, becoming the Koshians' claws and fangs. They had not returned to us for decades, centuries, but they were still our kin. Their deaths filled us with grief.
But now we could only flee in terror.
This was no longer a path that could be passed with 'luck', no longer an arena that could be observed with 'caution'. This was a battlefield for a decisive war between high-level civilizations. We survived by fortune, but it was merely a narrow escape, living at others' mercy, time and time again — but this was the destined fate of weak civilizations. We did not hate, only felt anger. To be weak is to be beaten, to be exploited. Only this truth was forever etched in our hearts.
However.
The Koshian main fleet was completely destroyed, but we were intact… And the Koshian sub-fleets still had to suppress other vassals, guard their vast territories and domains… The war of super-civilizations might just be our opportunity.
— Farewell, the past of enslavement.
We turned back, looking once more at the place where our kin and the Koshian fleet had vanished.
The trail left by the pale blue light in the void still shone.
Silver, gold, and black fleets were positioned behind the massive void behemoths, guarding the enormous steel flower — it was rotating in the void, its sixteen crystal-edged petals radiating an eerie and dangerous light.
We gazed with longing, envy, curiosity, and surging emotion at that powerful 'light'.
The 'light' called 'civilization'.
— That year was called the Year of Revival. The flag of the metal flower, representing 'freedom', flew over the homeworld. We, the Oubzer people, finally broke free from our shackles, able to look upon the starry sky as free beings.