“Please do not grieve for this.”
Contrary to her words, a faint, nearly imperceptible sorrow was hidden within her green eyes, yet Evelyn’s expression remained perfectly composed.
“He was very happy after reading the signed trade zone agreement.”
“‘I have lived a good life, and I do not fear my departure. My beloved has gone before me into the depths of the sea of stars, and all that constitutes my being shall turn to stardust to reunite with her; my proudest student has found a partner who loves him just as much, and the Empire I love shall secure a long and stable future.’—Those were the words he left behind.”
“I understand.”
The core-seed said nothing more.
After disconnecting the communication, he went about his business as usual. He held brief conversations with both Red Tai Sui and Klein to confirm potential tremors and personnel changes within the Empire’s future.
The Marshal’s passing could potentially impact the newly stabilized trade zone, especially since he, as a member of the Progressive Faction, had provided immense help in facilitating the peace talks.
The immediate priority was to finalize everything, ensuring that the work already in progress would not suffer any setbacks due to this sudden turn of events.
But in the silence of the night, Gera held him, gently patting his back.
The white insect knew that his partner’s true state was not as it appeared on the surface.
When they had set out for Camlann, the usually unkempt black Zerg had rarely taken such care with his appearance, repeatedly checking the details of his clothes as if he were both anxious and excited to see his teacher.
The male did not pry into his emotions. He simply wrapped his spiritual tentacles gently around Sarkadi, his long, scaled tail intertwining with the pitch-black whip-like tail.
In the silent small room, a soft sound rose.
It was not the Zerg common tongue, nor did it belong to any emotional language. Gera began to hum softly, just as his partner had once done for him.
The soothing melody was like gentle waves, caressing a reef that would never speak.
The male’s body and wings enveloped his reef, letting the other man sink into a dream.
The functioning world and life do not change because of one person’s departure; it was so when the previous Emperor died, and it was so when the Imperial Marshal passed.
If anything, all changes tended to accelerate certain processes instead.
Three days later, the Flash-pattern and Pincer species—who had been locked in a stalemate for too long and had intended to quietly observe the changes—submitted a request for peace talks to the Gray-wing tribe.
“We agree to most of the conditions, but we demand the integrity of our tribes be preserved.”
The Sub-king of the Flash-pattern species was far more eloquent than those of the Pincer species. This time, he wore an amiable smile and no longer voiced any objections regarding the male insect’s presence at the meeting.
“Furthermore, we are willing to recognize the leadership of the Gray-wings—just as we once recognized the King.”
Having finally seen which way the wind was blowing, the Flash-pattern species showed a high degree of receptivity.
They couldn't win a fight anyway. The other side just wanted to elect a Chairman for the Council; behind closed doors, everyone would still manage their own affairs. All Zerg were long accustomed to obeying the unified deployment of a King. By comparison, the Gray-wings were merely following a formality; only a fool would make an enemy of them over such a thing.
Currently, the "war maniacs" who had wised up first had caught the express train of human trade. Red Tai Sui had, in a sense, become their ally. For a long time to come, no core-gene tribe would attempt to challenge this nest of difficult thorns.
A pack of mad dogs was troublesome enough, but now the mad dogs and the Red Reaper stood on the same side. They weren't even showing any urgency, using their stable mindset to blow up the mentalities of the other tribes.
Back when Clark had interacted with humans on his own, the Zerg’s accusations of betrayal had swarmed in like a tide.
The stubborn black Zerg, along with his allied brothers, didn't bother to justify themselves. Instead, they took it a step further and confirmed every single accusation.
*Yes, that’s right, we are cooperating with humans. What are you going to do about it?*
Then, all the voices went silent.
The ability to trim one's sails to the wind was a basic survival skill for all Zerg.
Previously, their loud-mouthing was just a way to pin a label on someone, while simultaneously extending probing tentacles to take advantage of any opening and snatch some territory. They hadn't truly expected to drag something as monstrous as Red Tai Sui into the war of secession, nor did they expect it to scoop away the entire Great Information Nest in one go.
Originally, the Nest was a legacy of the King, intended for the collective use of all core-gene tribes.
Now, it had completely become the private property of the Gray-wings.
This hellish development made every Zerg cough up blood. Their deep-space communication channels and databases were all in the hands of their competitors, and even a group raid might not result in a win. As if to prove this point, after the war of secession ended, the Gray-wings had wiped out two direct bloodlines: the Broad-wing and the Pedipalp species.
They practically had "Challenge me if you dare, see if I don't kill you" written across their faces.
Thus, when the Flash-pattern and Pincer species happily hung up the communication, the other Zerg swarmed over.
Since the last King vanished from this universe, it was rare to see the Ten Great Lineages—now reduced to eight—pulled together like this, expressing a single demand.
“We demand the opening of a Collective Core-Gene Tribal Conference.”
This was Sarkadi’s goal, but he understood the inherent flaws of humans, Zerg, and indeed every living creature in this universe.
If he had negotiated nicely with the other branches at the very beginning, his attitude would likely have been perceived as weakness, and not a single Sub-king would have given him the time of day.
They were all like donkeys: you couldn't lead them by pulling, and they’d kick back if you pushed.
At this moment, he and Clark had reached a unified conclusion: let them cool their heels for a while.
Once the trade zone with the humans was established and the Gray-wing tribe had earned its first pot of gold, these insects, driven mad by envy, would spontaneously facilitate the opening of the collective conference with even greater passion.
“So, we’re going back soon.”
Gera said, wagging his small tail. These past few days, he had been frantically analyzing all the information downloaded from the medical base, filling in the previously blurred details.
“We’ll be coming here often in the future.”
Sarkadi smiled and caught that conspicuous scaled tail, coiling it in his hand and stroking it slowly.
“I still have some haggling to do with Evelyn. She’s the type who thinks ten steps ahead and refuses to suffer even the slightest loss.”
In fact, the Empress’s attitude was far more businesslike than that.
“You have to show me first.”
Across the deep-space communication, her red hair remained as striking as a flame.
“The Gray-wing tribe has just gone through a war of secession. You need to show me how long you can stay in that position—and how long your stable relationship with the other Sub-king can last.”
“I don’t need a partner who gets overthrown a few days after taking office. That would make all the Empire’s initial investments go down the drain.”
“When you—when both of you—stand invincible, then come to negotiate with me for the usage rights of the Time River ports.”
She spoke with a smile.
And her next sentence veered straight into territory that made Sarkadi’s face turn dark.
“Klein said that Sub-king is in a relationship with the human child he adopted, the one in charge of the Camlann garrison. Is that true?”
Fine, fine, you still managed to get the gossip.
Even though the gossip wasn't about him, the core-seed still felt a sense of frustration that he hadn't managed to dodge it after all.
“I fail to see how this has any relevance to what we are discussing.”
He attempted a final struggle, while inwardly cursing his brother for being all bark and no bite, failing to last even one round under the hands of a black-hearted human.
“I’m curious.”
As the gossip spread, the Empress revealed a hint of languor. No matter her posture, she carried a steadiness that remained unmoved by external things. “I am curious about the future between the tribe you currently lead and humanity.”
“I want to see if a beast can retract its fangs, defying the nature engraved in its genetic code since birth, to protect a human with whom it shares no blood relation.”
“Klein said the Sub-king was pinned against the wall by the other guy?”
This time, the Empress truly let out a soft laugh, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest of her chair.
“He really is...”
Her lips silently formed a phrase, though she made no sound.
*The Light of Humanity, isn't he?*
What a backstab. It made the core-seed’s spine lose its stiffness during the negotiations. He felt a heartfelt urge to beat up Klein, who had broadcasted everything in such meticulous detail, right down to the scene's specifics.
“This is a good thing.”
Hearing his partner’s teeth-gritting words, the male insect couldn't help but laugh, curling his tail.
“Your friend didn't show any disgust, did he?”
Having completely accepted himself and no longer hiding his habits, Gera loved to press close and nuzzle. He touched the other’s powerful insect wings and retracted his information connector.
“I want to kiss them.”
“...”
*Beep. 'Losing one's mind to beauty' trial card activated.*
“Kiss them, then,” the core-seed replied instantly.
“I’ve finished looking through the received data during this time.”
Stroking the bone where the insect wings met the wing sheaths, Gera leaned over him.
“The Hard-wings who destroyed the cultivation room brought the Tide in with them. All the equipment was contaminated, which is why the previous cultivation subjects ended in failure... Humans cannot coexist with the contamination.”
“Fortunately, the last gene sample of the former Fleet Commander was sealed there.”
“Even after two hundred years, the Tide was still protecting that relic.”
The male spoke softly, quietly kissing the other’s insect wing.
“All the recorded data confirms that they did not cause further contamination. At the same time, they suppressed the overly active Zerg genes to prevent uncontrolled mutations during the body’s development.”
Sarkadi clicked his tongue.
What kind of sane person would host a battle royale inside their own body? The human part sat firmly in the spectator stands while the pollutants grabbed the Zerg genetic sequences and beat them mercilessly.
Hard to comment on.
But also very lucky.
One of the greatest challenges the humans of Old Earth wanted to overcome was how to achieve immortality.
To this end, they made the bizarre attempt of freezing living people.
The bad news was that this attempt failed; none of the poor souls who were frozen were ever revived in the future.
The good news was that it provided the conceptual framework for the cryogenic stasis pods used in deep-space travel. How to put a human into a long-term slumber without damaging cells or the brain—to endure the decades or even centuries of exploration—nearly made the researchers go bald.
Once this problem was fully solved, the era of Great Space Migration began.
The increasingly desiccated Old Earth urged humanity to embark on the journey to find new colonial planets.
Before star-core energy was discovered and warp technology was put into use, it took humanity several centuries to reach that point.
Many died during the migration.
Even more died during the exploration and construction of alien planets.
Short-lived species with limited lifespans used everything they had to fight against fate, enduring too many setbacks and trials, and walking countless detours. They were the plague of the universe, yet also a flame that was difficult to extinguish.
Death and parting are the price for the continuation of a race and a civilization.
And it was precisely this research from the past that laid the foundation, allowing a gene sample sealed for two hundred years to still exhibit vitality.
Before a miracle is established, there are often too many layers of failure.
Every step taken by the life that continues to this day is trodden upon the shadows of the past. Suffering and sacrifice pile up like mountains, paving a living path for the humans who follow.
Tickled and numbed by the kisses, the core-seed could finally take no more. He flipped over, pinning his rustling, mischievous partner beneath him and into his embrace, firmly holding the other’s limbs.
“No moving.”
In response, the other used what was at hand, lifting his head to kiss his cheek.
“I also confirmed with the Great Information Nest. The earliest data exchange began around the time the Time River was born—roughly coinciding with when your friends tried to upload their personalities. The birth of the passage caused tremors, the rift extended, and all three homologous units were affected to varying degrees.”
Gera held the other’s hand; he loved the sense of security he felt when being held.
“However, the flow became intermittent afterward. The Data Canopy autonomously closed the relevant loopholes based on human security measures.”
“We are truly lucky.”
The male rested his head against the other’s chest, listening to that heavy, rhythmic sound. This heartbeat brought him joy, as if it echoed repeatedly in the depths of his soul.
“So, do not be sad.”
Speaking in a low voice, Gera looked into those golden-brown eyes.
“And never, ever lose to fate.”
***
