A massive earthquake struck.
At the moment it began, Lei Ting had just finished extracting more data from the modified planet’s central AI server. In the midst of the world-shaking tremors, he felt a sudden, intense surge of danger—coming from below.
The power furnace was reacting.
A planetary power furnace... though called a "furnace," was essentially a planetary core that had been modified, stabilized, and maintained at a specific temperature.
The Hataen homeworld’s environment was similar to Earth’s, though with higher gravity. It stood to reason that a civilization developing there, having received planetary weapon technology from the Galactic Empire just as the Human Union had, would possess technical leanings similar to the Union's.
Thinking of the Human Union’s design philosophy—where every planetary weapon was essentially a giant, ticking bomb—Lei Ting felt a cold sweat break out.
His first instinct was to locate his teammates and the four captured superpowered warriors.
Fortunately, after a subtle upheaval, the power furnace did not actually erupt with the terrifying magma of the deep core through the weak point Lei Ting had nearly breached earlier. Instead, it was temporarily stabilized in a specific state by the automatic safety-lock systems standard to all planetary weapons.
Then, a world-shaking roar echoed through the air.
What was that sound?
He didn't know.
But Lei Ting could feel a powerful, shocking force within those delayed acoustic waves. It was moderately dangerous to him, but for anyone else, it would have been a cataclysmic disaster.
Assuming this wretched place no longer had the capacity to intercept or control fragmented communications, Lei Ting activated his comms system directly: "Target destruction achieved. Mission complete. Secure all intelligence and begin immediate extraction."
Between himself and the source of that distant, thunderous threat, he felt that forget paralyzing the command and logistics systems—this entire planet might not even survive the day.
His teammates acknowledged the order one after another. As a "Double-S" rank and a "privileged individual" authorized by the Federal Council, Lei Ting naturally held the right to command them in critical moments; he simply chose not to interfere in standard operations.
He swept his mental sense across the area, located the four captives, and sent a remote transmission warning them to leave as quickly as possible. Simultaneously, he turned and transformed into a streak of brilliant golden light, soaring up through the layers of metallic structures.
After piercing through nearly a hundred "floors," the view before him brightened. He suddenly saw a sky still stained with a faint, lingering glow.
But there was nothing noteworthy in the sky—no people, no warships, nothing.
*Could that commotion have originated from within the planet itself rather than an external source?*
A brief moment of doubt flickered in Lei Ting’s mind. But when he lowered his gaze toward the shimmering silver metallic "earth" in the distance, that doubt vanished like smoke.
A canyon.
He saw a canyon.
A sharp, straight, incisive canyon wreathed in wisps of faint smoke—a feature that had absolutely not existed when he arrived. It stretched from the planetary weapon’s south pole all the way to its north.
He knew then that the remaining enemy—the one he had refrained from striking directly to ensure the mission's stability—was dead.
Just like the one he had sent off with a single sword strike, not even ashes remained.
***
"Later, when I was leading the retreat, I observed from space and found that the canyon was likely caused by some form of external force. As you can see in these images, it is narrow, sharp, and deep, reaching all the way to the planetary power furnace’s outer shell.
"However, the safety-lock system functioned faithfully. The furnace was cooled down at the cost of its autonomous mobility, preventing it from taking the Hataen people on the surface to their deaths."
Lei Ting delivered his report in a calm tone. "I was unable to trace the source of the power that left such a profound impact on the planetary weapon. It vanished far too quickly. By the time I saw the canyon, all that remained was chaotic spatial fluctuations and a closing spatial rift.
"I suspect the power that created it is related to the unknown target I reported during the 'test' on our way here—the same mysterious force that allowed the pirate leader to escape successfully."
"Understood." The Commander-in-Chief sitting across from him nodded. "We will dispatch personnel as soon as possible to recover the spoils and take custody of the prisoners."
"Please tell the soldiers to be careful. The environment there now is..." Lei Ting paused. "...not very hospitable."
"Understood. I can imagine—an iron ball of ice floating in space with barely a trace of residual heat inside," the Chief of Staff beside them added. "Thank you very much. The information you brought back is vital. We will report the current internal state of the Hataen people to the Collective and apply for a judicial hearing to execute military intervention."
"It was my duty," Lei Ting replied with a calm nod, offering no comment on the topic of the Collective.
With that, the briefing concluded. As Lei Ting left the command center, he saw Bolen, Knott, and the others being carried into the adjacent infirmary.
Though barely functional, the Hataen life-support systems provided insufficient oxygen for Orionids, and they had also encountered a large number of Hataen soldiers, resulting in several skirmishes.
Even though they had been brought onto Lei Ting’s ship only a few hours later, the oxygen deprivation, blood loss, and significant psychological trauma they had endured required them to rest and recover.
Bolen was resting with his eyes closed, but Knott managed to give Lei Ting a wide grin from a distance. Lei Ting nodded calmly, acknowledging the gesture.
He rarely showed the smiles of his daily life while on the war front. Instead, he wore a calm, serious expression—the kind that, if posted on the Star-Net, would surely lead people to claim he was "acting like a big shot."
While such labels shouldn't apply to a warrior like him, there were always those who measured everything by the rules of fields he didn't understand. Consequently, he had grown used to people finding all sorts of reasons to criticize him online.
It couldn't hurt him anyway.
In contrast, now that he was back in a safe zone, Lei Ting was more focused on another issue: after killing that extremely abnormal "Hataen Prince," a subtle sensation would occasionally arise in his heart. It was a sense of crisis, a warning that something had its eyes on him... he was being locked on.
For some reason, Lei Ting felt that the power locking onto him was the very same source of the Hataen Prince’s abnormal strength.
In truth, he hadn't truly sensed the power the Prince held, because the primary ability of the man he faced seemed to be a form of hypnotic superpower based on mental strength. But... Lei Ting was immune to such things.
What a coincidence.
That power of illusion and hypnosis was incredibly formidable. Had any of the other five teams gone there, they likely would have lost two or three people. But it just so happened that Lei Ting himself was the one who went.
Hypnosis? Illusions?
The Federal Council would laugh themselves hoarse if they heard someone tried that on the "Solar Star."
Lei Ting took a shower first, then collected a batch of resupply materials, carrying them in a condensed metal block toward his happy little spaceship.
On the way, he sent a message to the mediator, Ruo, informing him in a level tone of the outcome regarding the search for Vodu Sto. The other man replied quickly, thanking him for his efforts without any lamentation—he had likely seen such outcomes many times before.
Following this, Ruo quickly sent someone to deliver a gift, but Lei Ting declined it, as he didn't feel he had truly put much effort into the matter.
Then Ruo came in person. He seemed to feel that being unable to deliver a gift was a slight against his professional competence. Lei Ting couldn't fathom where this mysterious professional obsession of mediators came from, so he could only exchange gifts with the man, caught between amusement and exasperation.
The gift Ruo brought was a data card with an enormous capacity, filled with all the most beautiful, fun, and interesting artistic works from across the galaxy over the past thousand years. Aside from the high value of the data card itself, the fascinating content spanning nearly every interstellar race in the galaxy was a priceless treasure to Lei Ting.
Because of this, Lei Ting felt that the small decorative sculpture he had hurriedly kneaded out of a piece of metal in return... was a bit shabby.
However, Ruo seemed to genuinely love it. He claimed he was very interested in retro works with vine-like designs, especially since it was crafted by Lei Ting himself. He said that the use of destructive power to create a statue gave it a deeply moving humanistic value, and insisted he would build a dedicated display case for it...
As the man began describing the materials and craftsmanship for the display case, Lei Ting quietly slipped into his ship. This was perhaps his most impolite act in years. But he couldn't help it; the mediator was simply too talkative.
However, it did remind him of something—he didn't seem to have ever given Valen anything worth keeping. Something purely decorative, without any functional use.
Sandro and the others said that "lovers giving each other useless but cherished trinkets" was a pleasure one had to experience in a romantic relationship. Although Lei Ting wasn't sure if he and Valen counted as "lovers," if the person was him, Lei Ting found himself wanting to taste that "pleasure" a little.
Thus, having found a moment of leisure, he began to watch the distant scene of the two sides tossing explosive "bricks" at each other in a polite exchange of fire, pondering what would be best to give.
Lei Ting leaned back in his reclined pilot’s seat, staring blankly at the network of destruction woven by the fires of war in the viewport above.
He knew that what he liked might not necessarily be what the other person liked, but he couldn't just not give a souvenir, could he? For the first time in his life, he seriously tried to divine someone’s preferences, attempting to put himself in their shoes to figure out what would make them happy...
But this question was far too difficult—harder than cleaving a battleship in half. He could twist an enemy fleet into a ball of yarn, but he couldn't stop his own thoughts from turning into a tangled mess when faced with the profound mystery of "what does the person I like want?"
Since it wasn't combat time anyway, he treated these thoughts as a form of relaxation.
Lei Ting stretched his body, looking out at the crossfire zone where not even a space ant—well, no such thing existed—could survive. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, wandering through old memories, trying to find a theme that could be turned into a gift.
After a long while, for some reason, he suddenly remembered the time he had just woken up from a certain coma.
It was then that he had seen Evanheiler’s eyes through those long, slightly cool fingers.
But thinking back now, the noteworthy thing that day wasn't just the sea under the sunlight, but also...
...also that power, fine as starlight, which could dive deep into Lei Ting’s mental domain to isolate his pain.
Evanheiler’s energy purity was very high, and at that time, the energy hadn't been consumed much. But later, at some point after he woke up, it had suddenly and quietly vanished—graceful, swift, and without a trace.
Logically speaking, superpower energy was a form of "energy," and its flow must leave a trail. Given how pure Evanheiler’s energy was, it should theoretically have been able to persist in the world for a long time even after being separated from its source.
Taking Lei Ting himself as an example—if he wished, the energy residue from his battles could remain in the physical world for nearly six months. That was data from a test a year ago. While "The Immovable" played a role in that, Evanheiler was an "S-rank" at the very least; if his energy were to dissipate naturally, it should take at least a week, right?
Furthermore, that starlight had vanished abruptly. There was no process of "dissipation" at all...
So how exactly did it disappear?
Why had he never found any trace of its coming or going?
Lei Ting frowned and suddenly sat up, lost in thought.
Details he hadn't noticed back then when he didn't understand such things were now fully revealed to his current self.
That tiny trace of power had vanished in a way that was far too illogical.
And above that canyon that had split the planetary weapon, as well as within the spatial rift that had taken the enemy away... the mysterious power he had yet to meet... was exactly the same.
***
