“Clark.”
Disapproval flickered in those blue eyes.
Having finished sweeping the peripheral battlefields, the Sub-King and Sacdi returned to the ship to hold a brief meeting regarding the final push.
The most difficult sentry planet they had encountered previously had deployed a type of pollution weapon, and the silver-grey Zerg had been wounded in the fray. It wasn't a life-threatening injury, yet the wound caused by the contaminant was persistent, refusing to heal in the short term.
After assessing the situation, Sacdi suggested that Clark undergo thorough treatment first. While the Zerg possessed a high resistance buff against xenogenic pollution, they were not entirely immune; letting a minor injury fester could lead to far more troublesome consequences.
However, Clark disagreed. The leader of the Grey-wings was determined to seize the remaining three core planets as quickly as possible, unwilling to delay even a single micro-cycle for something he deemed inconsequential.
It was at this moment that the human, far away on the energy planet, sent a communication request.
The prototype of the small information nest had been preliminarily established. A group of Grey-wing technicians remained on Ja, along with Chela-species who had long since upgraded to skilled workers; their pace was remarkably fast.
The young man’s first instinct was to share this milestone with his nurturer.
They had spoken for a long time before, with a level of candor they had never shared until then.
Though their emotional status remained something of a "blind box," Clark had explicitly stated, "I am happy to receive your communications," and "Do not worry; you can reach out to me anytime. If a connection is possible, I will respond."
From this, the youth had discerned a hint of unpracticed... sincerity.
The silver-grey Zerg was powerful and stable. The persona he presented to the human was always one of methodical, icy composure. He never spoke of his past and rarely expressed emotional needs, adhering strictly to the principles of a composed superior.
This was the first time he had—with restraint and through indirect means—conveyed the sentiment that he "hoped" the human would seek him out more often.
Because of this, Arthur’s heart brimmed with soft emotions, and he couldn't help but want to tell him the happy news.
Thus, the Core-species, who was sitting sprawled in the meeting room polishing his scales, watched as his "good brother"—the moment the communication connected—tucked his injured wing behind his back with a speed invisible to the naked eye, instantly switching to a serious, upright posture.
Sacdi was dumbfounded.
It was the first time he had encountered someone with an "idol baggage" more ridiculous than his own.
The true dignity and persistence of an elder.
As it turned out, the human saw through it in a second, and his soft heart instantly turned to iron.
The light-particle image reached out, attempting to pull at the part the Zerg was hiding behind his back, but the male bug subtly turned his body to avoid it.
Sacdi burst out laughing on the spot.
Alliances were one thing, but the inherent pettiness of men made him quite enjoy seeing his ally suffer a setback in such harmless matters.
He relished the sight.
The Sub-King shot him a cold glance, his powerful, silver whip-like tail cracking through the air toward the Core-species who was merrily enjoying the show.
“Get out.”
The master of the battleship issued the order to leave with crystal-clear brevity.
The black Core-species scrambled to his feet, gave the youth a casual wave, and turned to walk out.
The gossip had put him in a splendid mood, and he made no effort to hide it, humming a low tune as he walked.
“...That secret is hidden deep in your heart, yet no one knows your name.”
“When dawn quietly arrives, he shall reveal the answer upon your lips...”
The wise do not fall in love.
But once a wise man who has lost his wits falls into the river, he can forget about ever climbing back out.
Sacdi had realized that Clark was destined for a losing bargain. A bug who was already afraid of being "checked up on" before the relationship was even defined would have zero chance of turning the tables in the future.
He had seen too many humans break up; regardless—a normal person rejecting someone they didn't like would certainly not use such indecisive methods.
It had to be said that Clark was quite proficient in the human tongue. He cast a blade-like gaze at the fellow who was refusing to act like a decent person while humming a mocking ditty, looking ready to explode in rage.
The next second, however, a cool sensation came through the light particles as Arthur gently turned the Zerg’s cheek back toward him.
Evidently, having an information connector that was *too* advanced wasn't always a good thing.
The human’s image embraced his nurturer, his voice tender as he spoke "tea-like" words: “I will be sad,” “Please do not hide things from me, it makes my heart ache to the point of tears,” “Just seeing you injured makes it hard for me to breathe; please care more for your own safety while fighting.”
It was manipulative, yet sincere; a strategic retreat to gain ground, performed without a shred of shame.
And yet, the high-and-mighty Sub-King was completely susceptible to this tactic. Encircled by the human’s arms, his body gradually relaxed, offering occasional soft responses of “Mm” and “Okay.”
Sacdi felt he was being quite considerate, even going so far as to close the hatch for them.
The calm youth left him with only a view of his back, busy hugging the silver-grey bug and gently stroking those injured wings.
It had to be Arthur Simmons.
The light of humanity—when something needed doing, he really stepped up.
Sacdi had worn his tongue out and still couldn't drag his "plastic brother" to the treatment pod, yet the youth had easily pinned down the Sub-King who had insisted on working around the clock.
The Core-species, unburdened by such thoughts, strolled all the way to the bridge, intending to review the upcoming operations on his own first.
The Pedipalp-species had three planets left, and these three core habitats were heavily defended.
It might be better to just blow up all the docking orbits first, ensuring not a single one could escape. Klisha was an excellent teacher, having personally demonstrated the practical method of "to wipe them out, first blow up the road," a lesson Sacdi accepted in its entirety.
To live is to learn, and he was a very diligent student.
Half of the Armed-species remained in the Third Quadrant, while the other half stood guard in the former star territory of the Broad-wings in the Fourth Quadrant. Most of the troops for this expedition were members who had followed Clark in his conquests.
After several battles, Sacdi had to re-familiarize himself with the procedures.
Fortunately, the Sub-King was relatively reliable, and these bugs had a high degree of obedience; they wouldn't engage in backstabbing behavior like saying one thing to your face and doing another behind your back.
The Pedipalp-species hadn't focused on "losing their sanity" like the Broad-wings had with those insane nursery experiments. However, their habitats weren't much better; there was a massive disparity between the peripheral planets and the core planets.
For a time, he fell back into his past experiences, floating in the universe unable to distinguish day from night.
Once they landed on a surface, it meant the arrival of a new round of slaughter.
Planets were perhaps the most solid and enduring things in this universe, but ever since the civilizations of humans and Zerg had stepped up to a new level, they had become destructible.
In the present age of space migration, many people didn't stop to think that some civilian technologies often originated from innovations in military tech.
The transport vehicles in habitable sectors were like this, the Data Canopy was like this, and the Great Information Nest was like this. Even the most primitive network used by humans in the Old World had evolved from ARPANET, which was established by one nation to ensure its own military communications in response to a nuclear strike from another.
In terms of manufacturing and selling war, it was hard to say which of these two neighbors was more "creative."
The Pedipalp-species indeed hadn't developed new breeds of larvae; they had developed new breeds of pollution-type weapons.
A small number of residual cracks from Akasha still existed in the nooks and crannies of the universe. The pollution source wouldn't go out of its way to announce its presence, but it wasn't rare or hard to find either.
At the very least, Camlann could pull out a whole bunch of it at will.
Perhaps the surviving residents of the Broad-wing sector had given them inspiration, and having glimpsed the Grey-wings' strangely tolerant attitude of not slaughtering surrendered members, they had buried a massive amount of "surprise explosives" in the nest areas of some habitable sectors and sentry planets.
This resulted in the Sub-King and Sacdi, who were conducting the reorganization and cleanup, getting doused directly.
Likely not yet having accepted the transition of a newly matured cub suddenly becoming a "brother," Clark had swept the Core-species and the two Grey-wings beside him behind his back, spreading his wings to block the pollution source that was splashing everywhere.
According to the physical strength of a direct-line prime-age female, pollution of this degree should have been easily purged, which was why he had instinctively protected the weaker members of the tribe.
But the reality was that despite repeated attempts at simple treatment, those silver-grey wings had never fully healed.
The Sub-Kings of the Broad-wings and Pedipalp-species, along with Klisha, could be called a match made in heaven. For Sacdi, nothing was more important than the three of them staying locked together in hell and living their best lives there.
Of the first two, one used his own tribe for crossbreeding, and the other buried filth in the nest areas; the latter, meanwhile, had blown up an entire Old King’s Nest.
As expected, excellent leaders are all alike, while "insane" tribal leaders each have their own unique flair.
The Federation’s act of burning a V217 had triggered a civil war of dissolution. Although it was the result of long-accumulated systemic ills, the sudden collapse of an old regime that had stood for centuries remained an indisputable fact.
Yet, switching over to the Zerg side, no matter what bizarre maneuvers the leaders of the core genetic tribes performed, they actually seemed... reasonable.
While unlocking the entire star map, he pulled up the data sent over by Gla.
How to avoid more widespread pollution damage in the upcoming battles required careful consideration.
Clearing the field in advance was imperative.
Perhaps as karmic retribution for being too happy a moment ago, just as the black Zerg was about to make annotations on the star map and fortification diagrams, a communication that was both strange and familiar burst in.
An abnormal alert warning sounded on the bridge.
That extremely rare communication code made Sacdi freeze for a moment before he finally chose to connect.
The next second, a woman’s figure was fully presented before him.
A tall woman sat by a long table, her facial features deeply etched.
Time had left an aura akin to majesty upon her, with flame-red hair and the emerald-green eyes characteristic of the Holman family.
When she raised her eyes, her calm gaze lingered on Sacdi for a long time, sweeping over his drooping wings and tail, and the residual scales on his neck.
It was a look of scrutiny, judgment, and evaluation.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Until the Core-species, unable to endure it any longer, raised an eyebrow and shot her a "What on earth are you doing?" look, and she smiled.
The woman, dressed in formal black attire, spoke, her voice carrying obvious amusement.
“When Red first described it, I didn't quite believe it.”
“For such a thing to happen to you is truly—evocative. After all, some people have always cared so much about their dignity.”
She said, her finger idly tapping the tabletop.
“You look... so tender right now.”
“...”
“............”
Sacdi’s face instantly darkened.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 亚王虫 | Sub-King | A high-ranking Zerg rank below the King. |
| 核心种 | Core-species | A high-tier Zerg classification. |
| 灰翅 | Grey-wings | A specific Zerg tribe/ethnic group. |
| 足肢种 | Pedipalp-species | A Zerg tribe characterized by arachnid-like appendages. |
| 污染型武器 | Pollution-type weapons | Weapons that use xenogenic or Akasha-based contaminants. |
| 信息巢 | Information Nest | A Zerg biological network/communication hub. |
| 鳌种 | Chela-species | A Zerg type, likely with pincer-like appendages. |
| 茶言茶语 | "Tea-like" words | Derived from "Green Tea Bitch" slang; refers to manipulative, feigned innocence or vulnerability. |
| 阔翅 | Broad-wings | A specific Zerg tribe. |
| 武装种 | Armed-species | A Zerg type specialized for combat. |
| 阿卡夏 | Akasha | A source of cosmic power or pollution in this setting. |
| 霍尔曼 | Holman | A prominent human family name. |
| 嫩 | Tender / Young | Used here by the woman to mock Sacdi's regressed or youthful appearance. |
