The tug-of-war lasted a long time; on matters of such gravity, every party appeared excessively cautious.
Winning a war was exhausting, but post-war reconstruction was even more so. Even someone as wealthy as Clark could not conjure resources out of thin air. A trade system based on energy stones was far too unstable; they urgently needed to establish a new trading framework and identify a substitute to function as currency.
This requirement meant that all Core Gene tribes had to participate, and the humans had to relax their conditions as well.
Gera, who had finally recovered most of his mental power, felt a bit embarrassed. The act of clinging to his partner and weeping all night made him feel as though he had reverted to a young hatchling. Since reaching adulthood, he had rarely exposed such a vulnerable side.
But Sakdi held him, telling him it was alright—that whether one was human or Zerg, it was okay to shed tears when sad.
Crying was a synonym for weakness.
Excellent mimicry had allowed a small number of Zerg to learn this behavior through imitation, but almost no Zerg would truly do so out of genuine sorrow.
Inhaling that familiar pheromone, Gera tried for the first time to accept the part of his inner self he was ashamed to show. Sakdi said it was okay, so he believed him earnestly.
Miraculously, his previously parched mental power replenished rapidly due to the release of his emotions. By the time he realized he could once again taste his partner’s tenderness and affection, only two days had passed since that blurred, bitter night that had left a faint hint of sweetness in its wake.
During this interval, the Great Information Nest had been operating on its most basic intelligence; Gera had not seen the "Doggy Nest" for quite some time.
When he finally stepped back into the Nest and sat in the link pod, all the tentacles began to retract at high speed. The disastrous state of the previous link had left a severe psychological shadow on the brainless Nest.
"You’ve become so much smarter."
Watching this overly emotional behavioral pattern with wonder, the male Zerg stroked the tentacles huddled in the corner. He knew these constructs possessed the ability to constantly evolve and iterate; they could self-learn, self-grow, and self-repair. However, the effect of that brief connection to the Kamlan information model still left him impressed.
It was almost like a savage, ignorant hatchling that had just broken its shell.
He had once conversed with the Red Tai-Sui, another artificial intelligent species. That much older starship displayed a humanized side, possessing a clear self-awareness in both speech and personality. Over the long centuries, it had acquired an eternal soul, no longer a mere cold tool.
And now, he glimpsed the same inkling within the Great Information Nest.
Sensing that its master would not easily die again, those deep red tentacles hesitantly tried to coil around him. The new master would not constantly use it to over-load the swarm link and maintain pathways; he would even stroke it gently.
It absolutely loved him.
On the other side, the black Core Species was nearly dying of overwork.
He was experiencing the hardships of the early "startup" phase once again. Sakdi had once felt that a new life represented boundless freedom. The reality, however, was that a new life represented endless work.
Every day, he opened his eyes to countless documents awaiting approval, as if he had returned to his years in the Red Deer Palace. The only improvement was that these matters only required his and Clark’s nods; he no longer had to fight three hundred rounds against a crowd of men and women, facing a barrage of verbal and written denunciations until he wanted to flip the table.
However, a Sub-King was no less difficult to handle than a circle of chirping ministers and aides. Their views often clashed, and since they were in a state of shared power, arguments were inevitable.
Onlookers like Kleeman had gradually shifted from the initial despair of "Help, they're fighting again" to a numb "Whatever, just let it be."
There were meetings every day, ranging from the construction and integration of new star sectors, the implementation of policies, and the allocation of resources, down to minor disputes where some Armed species got into a fight and bypassed the chain of command to complain... The early stages of a newborn, chaotic political entity were always filled with turmoil.
Amidst this atmosphere, the technical Zerg of the Grey-wing tribe finally delivered the new inspection report to the desks of the two allies.
The one delivering the file was still the same Zerg who had previously suggested "composting" Sakdi. That one blunt comment had caused his workload to skyrocket for several small cycles. Thus, he had learned his lesson; his mouth was zipped shut like a fastener, not saying a single extra word, maintaining a "see for yourselves" attitude.
Clark frowned as he browsed for a long time before pushing the light screen toward his ally.
"It's very strange. Take a look."
Sakdi scanned the document at ten lines per glance, quickly capturing the parts he wanted.
*Human genes, unknown, unknown, alien pollutants.*
The second shoe he had been waiting for all night finally dropped. The Core Species’ expression remained unchanged, devoid of any superfluous emotion.
The Grey-wing Sub-King had not recognized the lineage of his mortal enemy, and even the Broad-wing species, who had invested many samples into the experiments, had only barely identified his tribe through subtle characteristics at the very end. This was all thanks to the excessively complex composition of this body.
Fortunately, he had already been mentally prepared for the hypothesis regarding the pollutants; confirming it did not cause much of a stir.
When they had been trapped on the core planet of the Pedipalp species and fallen into the collapsing rift, all the accompanying Grey-wings had shown varying degrees of infection. Being directly immersed in the Tide itself and facing the erupting Akasha meant that even the powerful Zerg, with their resistance buffs maxed out, could not avoid being affected.
Clark’s wings had even fallen into an extremely dire state, nearly earning him an amputation surgery.
Only Sakdi himself remained completely unaffected.
Those Tides had merely swirled around him for a moment, coiling gently upon him. When he returned to the battleship and passed through the isolation and decontamination chamber, all the adhering filth had been easily washed away like mud. There were no signs of infection, nor any negative symptoms of fatigue.
What should have been impossible had become the greatest anomaly itself.
"I need to go to Kamlan."
The black female Zerg put down the report and looked at his ally opposite him, his expression devoid of any playfulness. "Many mysteries need to be cleared up. I want to see that model wreckage with my own eyes, to see where its roots extend."
"Impossible." The Grey-wing Sub-King tapped the table. They had argued too much recently; ultimately, the effort required to "grab and run" was vastly different from the effort needed to seriously build a new star sector. Endless trivialities were drowning all the Zerg, and even Clark was showing signs of burnout.
"Whoever proposed rebuilding the star sectors of the defeated tribes is responsible for the labor." A soft threat appeared in his pale grey eyes, and even his smile seemed tempered with blades. "You wouldn't slip away at a time like this, would you? Right?"
The Sub-King’s fingertips were pressed together, his silver-grey Zerg wings drooping, and he even switched his speech to a convoluted, obscure dialect. "I imagine that before the negotiations are over, no Zerg would make the unwise decision to call a paid vacation 'righteous duty.' Otherwise, I would truly like to see what kind of Zerg could be so lacking in collective consciousness as to not possess even the most basic sense of responsibility."
Sakdi: "..."
*Brother, your smile is terrifying.*
It was an eternal truth in this universe that work drives people mad. Even someone as powerful as Clark was nearly being pushed to the brink by his duties. Brothers who had exposed their true natures to each other didn't need to hide behind superficial politeness; "if I die, you die with me" was the mark of true friendship.
"I really do need to make a trip to Kamlan."
Back at the Nest, the Core Species sighed at the fickleness of fate while helping his partner crack open the claws of an exotic beast. "But if I leave now, Clark will have my head."
Gera, who had also just finished work, let out a laugh. Currently, he was not only responsible for the operation and management of the Nest but also for the integration of all remaining males and larvae from the Broad-wing and Pedipalp species. In terms of busyness, he was no less occupied than his gallivanting partner.
"Wait a little longer," he said. "Once we get through this period, I’ll go with you."
Some planets that had just been incorporated into their territory needed new systems established and required Zerg from the Grey-wing tribe to be dispatched for management. Gera was truly stretched thin, but he could not let slip an opportunity that might never come again. Giving up easily was equivalent to handing over power; this was the best time to involve the male Zerg in administrative affairs. The dawn before the complete establishment of a new order was chaotic yet tolerant.
Thus, he held a meeting with all the male Zerg working in the Great Information Nest and Kleeman.
"It is too dangerous for a lone male to travel to an unfamiliar planet. However, for the native males of those worlds, a fellow male who understands the situation can be more effective at providing reassurance. I believe you already understand this point." Looking at the expressionless, ramrod-straight leader of the Armed species, Gera explained softly, "So, I want to know if you have the capacity to dispatch a small number of Grey-wings for support."
"I must confirm this." After a moment of contemplation, the female Zerg in work mode was no longer reckless or heedless; he had become stable and possessed the ability to control the overall situation. "Tell me the specific numbers you need, and I will arrange it."
"Thank you." With a smile of gratitude, the white Zerg turned to look at the other curious and nervous males. "I also need four males to go to the integrated planets to handle some resettlement work. The Broad-wing and Pedipalp tribes left behind a large number of males and larvae who lack combat capability. Ensuring they can survive is one of our tasks. To this end, I have listed some..."
"I... I can go?"
the small voice that rang out from the side made the master of the Great Information Nest stop his next words.
When he looked up, a rather thin Zerg was looking over with trepidation and timidity, anxious because he realized his ill-timed speech had interrupted the ongoing explanation.
It was Kara of the Broad-wing species.
The feeling of being watched by everyone made him panic. The Zerg, who had become much healthier than before, instinctively wanted to hide. He curled up behind the leader of the Armed species, his tail twitching uneasily.
But even so, Kara still stammered, trying his best to speak the broken Common Tongue.
"I want to go back to my ho... home... to help."
The male Zerg, lacking confidence, became even more cautious with his language, changing "can" to "want." As if he found the idea laughable himself, Kara looked dejected after saying this, sitting there with a hunched posture. His fingers nervously gripped the hem of Kleeman’s clothes, as if trying to grab onto something that could support him, ready to shrink back into his shell at any second.
"I want to help... help..."
Before he could be crushed by a massive sense of powerlessness, Gera embraced the Zerg who was shrinking while trying to reach out.
"Alright."
The albino Zerg held his companion, who had dared to speak up boldly in public for the first time, their slender scaled tails pressing together. His arms gently encircled the Zerg, who was no longer so thin as to be bony and had become sturdier than before, patting his back reassuringly.
Through his later experiences, he had learned what gentle treatment was, and he treated his friends in the same way.
"Thank you for being willing to stand up, and thank you for being willing to help everyone," Gera said with a smile, stroking the other’s head. Experience told him that every Zerg enjoyed gentle encouragement and touch. "I am very happy to hear your words."
The thin male Zerg remained still in his arms for a short while, and then the fine, rustling tremors slowly subsided.
***
