“So, which tribe do you belong to?”
As the quiet night enveloped the nesting grounds, Gela voiced a question that had piqued his curiosity for a long time.
“I mean, the current you.”
The male was curled in his semi-alienated form within the plush blanket, pressed close to his partner. Faint patterns, like watermark engravings, spanned his wings and body, resembling delicate tracks left upon fresh snow.
It was an excellent question—one that Sakti could not answer at all.
He didn't even know where this body had been unearthed from, or how it had ended up on a scavenger ship. A man shouldn't move too quickly; the downside of leaving no survivors was that he remained entirely in the dark regarding his own origins.
“I don’t know,” Sakti explained after a moment’s thought. His hand idly stroked down Gela’s spine, eliciting rhythmic shudders.
Whenever a particularly sensitive spot was touched, the white scaled tail would wrap tightly around the Core Species, constricting and relaxing in turns.
“But I have a few general theories. Once the matters at hand are settled, I want to visit Kamlan again.”
He wanted to see the remaining models of Vahna with his own eyes. The failed personality upload to the Data Firmament had been the beginning of his new life, and Kamlan was the nexus where all his hypotheses converged.
“I want to go with you,” Gela said, leaning into his embrace. He caught the Core Species’ pitch-black tail-whip and began to play with it, counting the scales one by one.
This lethal weapon, capable of easily tearing an enemy’s head from their shoulders, had retracted all its barbs. The bony segments that stood erect during combat were now dormant, held submissively between the male’s forelimbs.
“We’ll go together.”
Sakti didn’t ask if Gela was afraid of returning to the place that had caused him so much trauma. If his partner wished to go to Kamlan again, then Sakti would ensure that every bad memory was replaced by a new journey. From then on, whenever the male mentioned the Graveyard of Stars, he would only think of the beautiful planets along the way and the scenery they once had no time to appreciate.
“Once I’ve handled the business with the Core Gene tribes, I’ll arrange a time when we’re both free.”
Gela was very sleepy, yet he didn't want to close his eyes. So, the female spoke softly to him about everything that had happened during the day—his plans for the future, his concerns regarding the Chela and Flash-vein species—all while slowly patting the male.
Gela drifted on the edge of sleep, occasionally offering a soft, murmured response.
“Wasn’t Clark angry because of what you said?”
In his half-dreaming state, Gela emitted a faint, bee-like hum. He felt safe in the female’s powerful embrace, as if sinking into a dream that was far too soft.
“He was looking for a successor,” Sakti’s deep voice dissipated into the night. “He wasn’t sure if he could survive the death-match, so he instinctively sought an heir—a partner he could entrust his legacy to.”
A human could not lead the Grey-wing tribe; the High-order species had clearly realized this. Meanwhile, the Armed species led by Kleiman were far from mature enough; it was much too early for them to stand on their own.
Thus, Clark had no choice.
After a period of observation, he was forced to place his bets on a strange bug from a low-level planet, gambling that the other’s misplaced morality and ambition would become chains. He gambled that this stranger would step in at the critical moment to steady the tilting Grey-wing tribe and lend a hand to his beloved son.
Not just any bug could meet the necessary criteria: ample ambition, sufficient morality, and formidable strength... these were enough to filter out a vast number of fools like Katla, who possessed only courage without strategy or were simply consumed by cruelty.
“That’s why, during our first meeting, he didn't twist my head off. He even had the patience to turn a blind eye to my little maneuvers.”
Sakti had been the same when choosing his own successors.
The overly rigid and incorruptible Klein couldn't suppress the old noble families and cunning ministers. Marshal Yeats, who possessed both the ability and the authority, was advanced in years; a hardened old man entering his twilight years didn't have much time left. Evelyn herself had flaws—her privileged background could sometimes become an obstacle to her progress—but compared to her personal capability, her decisive character, and her prime age, those drawbacks were negligible.
A ruler with no mercy and a ruler with overflowing mercy were equally terrifying.
The former viewed people as consumables, playthings, commodities, or appendages of power—anything but human beings. The latter would lose sight of reality, creating a mountain of messes in the name of kindness that all of humanity would eventually have to shoulder.
Those who fell in between were the unlucky ones—because they had to learn to internalize everything, walk their own path, and swallow the bitter fruits that were hard to bear.
The night in the nesting grounds was silent, with almost no discordant noise. Sakti, who had swallowed far too many bitter fruits, held his sleeping partner and repeatedly calculated his plans for the future.
Greed is a common ailment of all living things, and he was no exception.
The idea of "having it all" was inherently attractive. His desires had quieted down slightly after meeting the Red Tai-sui, but they immediately began to rebound; he simply couldn't bring himself to "lie flat" and do nothing.
He disliked the living environments of both the Pedipalp and Broad-wing species. And when it came to things he disliked, he never tolerated them; he always took direct action.
Before dawn broke, the black Core Species had more or less reached a final decision.
He needed to discuss this with Clark as soon as possible, and then send communications to the Chela and Flash-vein species. No negotiation ever ended in one or two sessions; the parties on either side of the table were engaged in a long tug-of-war, bickering back and forth over various irritating details.
Furthermore, what he sought would clearly touch upon the bottom lines of the other two Core Gene tribes.
Regardless, he had to reach a consensus with his boss first.
And his "plastic" boss had currently been drifting in space for two small cycles, almost never touching the ground, doing nothing but pushing the front lines. It was as if space were some incredibly attractive new dormitory; the title of "War Maniac" was now thoroughly cemented. It was hard to say just how much of the progress in the Fourth Quadrant was due to Clark’s individual contribution.
On the rare occasions he returned to the nesting grounds, the silver-grey female came and went in a flash, leaving no trace—as swift as the Grey-wing tribe’s blitzkrieg combat style.
Before departure, the blue-eyed human rushed to the docking rails and stopped Sakti just as he was about to board the ship.
This was perhaps the most unexpected turn of events.
Arthur greeted him with a slight smile and then, with total sincerity, asked him to pass a message to the High-order species.
“If he is still unwilling to return or see me before the next sunset, I will leave on the Armed species’ shift-change vessel heading for the Energy Star.”
The human, who had been given the cold shoulder, wasn't angry in the slightest. He merely stated a settled fact with gentle composure.
“Kleiman told me that a new batch of Armed species is going over to replace their comrades. Once I reach Ja, I’ll find another way to reach human space.”
“I cannot force him to stay away from his own nest or give up a normal life.”
Even as the Core Species scrutinized him with a suspicious gaze, Arthur did not become indignant.
“My love for him is not built on coercion or harm—please don't look at me with such doubt. I won't play games like 'playing hard to get' or creating false mysteries in a matter like this.”
“Using self-harm or hurting the other person to attract attention or retain a partner is the most foolish and base method.”
With a soft sigh, the young man’s expression turned serious.
“Continuous combat has brought enough exhaustion. His previous injuries hadn't fully healed before he started consecutive wars with the other Core Gene tribes. He needs a space for complete relaxation and rest more than I do—rather than sleeping on a battleship every day and keeping his nerves constantly taut just to avoid me.”
The blue eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened again, the playful glint was gone.
“The Broad-wing and Pedipalp species are not as dangerous as Krisha, and you are a bug with a strong sense of responsibility, capable of handling the attacks coming from behind him.”
“My current physical condition is temporarily unsuitable for the front lines. Staying here, I cannot stand by his side.”
When the Old King’s Nest collapsed, the young man’s lungs had been severely damaged. There were, after all, hardware differences in the Zerg star domain. The Alpha battleship, which carried the most advanced med-pods, had also been half-blown up. After the Red Tai-sui’s departure, the current facilities could not restore a human to full health at maximum speed.
“The distance between Kamlan and the Grey-wing habitat is far too great. It’s not exactly a tourist destination you can visit on a whim.”
Sakti realized that humans were creatures with very peculiar mindsets. Previously, his mind had been filled with thoughts like, *“What has the world come to? Young people these days... hurry up and drop this damn relationship.”* Yet, now that Arthur had made his decision, Sakti felt a strange itch to try and persuade him otherwise.
He told himself this was to keep a "muzzle" on Clark.
“You seemed so determined before. There’s no reason to let go so quickly.”
He hadn't just been determined; he had nearly forced the Core Species to redefine the human species entirely, adding a new category for "Supermen."
“This isn't a retreat, nor is it a fit of pique,” the young man explained patiently. “He is already distracted because of me. Perhaps in your eyes, he is a qualified direct-line Core Gene Zerg, but he gets tired too.”
“Clark’s resistance to this entire matter is far more persistent than I anticipated. Therefore, I need to yield, rather than forcing him to change or choose based on my own preferences.”
“Pursuing a relationship can involve elaborate plans, but a relationship itself is not a war.”
Unlike his smiling, lake-blue eyes, Arthur’s voice was resolute. “I want him to rest.”
“I said I would never let myself become a knife pointed at him, or a source of harm... I will wait for him at Kamlan, until the day everything ends and he is willing to see me, or until the day I recover my health.”
He winked at the Core Species. “At that time, even if he wants to run, I’ll find him.”
Humans had a way of saying very serious things in a joking tone.
“I’m quite confident in my own abilities... Next time you transport Star Core energy to Kamlan, you can take me along for the ride.”
“No.”
To this, Sakti’s reply was as firm as if he were reading a citation for a medal.
“Your guardian almost twisted my head off this time. If it happens again, he’ll actually go through with it.”
The human laughed again at the dry joke and waved goodbye.
But Sakti, as the messenger, wasn't so lucky. Even as he rushed to the front, he was still pondering the matter. Getting involved in someone else’s love story only worsened his headache. A Core Species’ brain always lacked emotional plugins; romance was a form of mysticism that he had struggled to understand across two lifetimes. Alchemy could at least be linked to chemistry, but mysticism was truly difficult to interpret through logic.
Thus, when he saw the silver-grey female again, he stared at him for a long time.
Truly, Arthur was the "Light of Humanity."
Even after witnessing the female’s blood-soaked, deeply alienated form, the young man hadn't felt the slightest urge to back down. Yet, simply because the other hadn't slept in his nest for a few nights, he had chosen to yield voluntarily.
Love was truly an overly complex masterpiece of abstract art.
Clark couldn't help but cast a cold glance at the Core Species standing there.
“Is something wrong with your eyes?”
Sakti had heard the same phrasing from the "Tail-swishing Brother." As expected of a bug trained by that man, their way of choking people off was identical.
“I’m just thinking about how to start the next topic,” the black female said slowly, his scaled tail swishing leisurely behind him.
In the end, he decided to just drop the bombshell.
In truth, Arthur had said a great deal, but those words were far too "scalding" for the tongue. Sakti had no desire to perform a poetry recital for his boss, recounting all that messy talk about love. Those things were best left for the human to say himself.
So, he was brief and to the point.
“If you don’t go back tonight, Arthur is leaving. He feels he’s affecting your normal life and doesn't want you to be forced to drift in the sky even when you should be resting.”
The High-order species finally gave him his full attention.
For once, a look of bewilderment appeared on that indifferent face.
“What?”
“I’ve delivered the message. Make your own decision. Now, let’s get to the meeting.”
Sakti had no time to waste on such matters. He switched topics instantly, pushing the other to sit down, completely ignoring the Sub-King’s slightly changing expression.
When it came to blunt operations, he was a professional.
“Regarding the Chela and Flash-vein species who are seeking cooperation, I have an idea.”
Clark was clearly preoccupied and didn't particularly want to hear this discussion.
But just as he was about to ask what exactly was going on with Arthur, he heard his collaborator—who always loved to stir up trouble—make an incredibly brutal and outrageous declaration.
“I do not accept a standard cooperation model. They can choose to be incorporated into the Grey-wing tribe and follow our deployment.”
Sakti spoke the outrageous words as if they were nothing.
“Whether it’s the Chela or the Flash-vein species, they can retain their original tribal structures and leaders, and they will have the right to oppose or amend important proposals. However, they must comply with Grey-wing jurisdiction.”
The silver-grey female across from him looked like he wanted to get up and punch someone. Sakti quickened his pace, striving to finish his explanation before the other became angry enough to enter an alienated state.
“Tell them they don't need to give an answer immediately—our tribe will first demonstrate an indisputable strength.”
“Whether they join or not makes no difference to us. Before their hesitant answer arrives, the Fourth Quadrant will belong to the Grey-wing.”
The Core Species with golden-brown eyes said:
“I intend to first sever the heads of two Sub-Kings.”
***
