In the void.
A massive planet drifted through space at a velocity of 115 km/s.
This planet possessed abundant geothermal energy, which had given rise to a plethora of life forms, including bacteria and algae-like plant life.
Around each volcanic crater, small, unique ecosystems flourished.
After hundreds of millions of years of evolution, intelligent life emerged, becoming the planet's dominant species.
They weren't like any of Earth's known life forms—not animals, plants, fungi, or even protists.
If forced to categorize them, they could be loosely classified as eukaryotes, as their cells contained membrane-bound nuclei.
However, their morphology was unique and difficult to describe, resembling something from the bacterial domain.
Hundreds of eyes covered their bodies.
Their bodies were gelatinous, resembling a mass of frog eggs, each individual occupying 22.4 cubic meters—truly massive creatures.
On the surface, their structures emitted a soft glow, making the planet appear brightly lit from space.
However, their true center lay deep beneath the surface, in the warmer depths.
Within a network of tunnels and subterranean structures, dozens of these aliens were connected to transistors, communicating through optical signals.
Each had a contorted screen before them, allowing their hundreds of eyes to observe the displayed information.
On the screen was the Hope.
They seemed to be analyzing the Hope's trajectory, trying to determine its origin.
This analysis had been ongoing for nearly 200 years.
For these creatures, 200 years wasn't a particularly long time.
Suddenly, their screens flashed white, momentarily blinding them.
Panic spread among them.
As the screens dimmed, an image of a cylindrical, unidentified object appeared.
Quickly, they issued commands to dispatch ships to intercept it.
They fired their laser weapons.
But the lasers couldn't penetrate the object.
Its silvery-white surface was so smooth and reflective, like a mirror, that most of the laser energy was reflected. The little energy that did get absorbed couldn't penetrate its material, leaving only insignificant marks on its surface.
Panic seized the creatures on the planet.
In their world, there had never been a weapon that their light couldn't overcome.
They redirected their ground-based super lasers at the projectile, but the effect was negligible.
They couldn't let it hit the planet!
Every creature on the planet made the same instantaneous decision: send swarms of ships to intercept it with their hulls.
But the projectile, traveling at 1000 km/s, was unstoppable. The ships that got in its way were instantly vaporized upon impact, reduced to countless fragments.
They didn't realize that, to ensure the missile's structural integrity, Ayla had essentially made the warhead a solid block of iron.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
A nearly 200-meter thick metal warhead—what could possibly damage it?
The Absolute Zero missile approached within 10 million kilometers of the planet.
Suddenly, a force acted upon the missile, altering its trajectory.
Magnetism!
As the most easily harnessed of the four fundamental forces, this Type 1 civilization had clearly mastered it. While insufficient for containing nuclear fusion, it was still a potent weapon.
Using magnetism to deflect the missile was an ingenious tactic.
The creatures on the surface cheered as they saw the missile veer off course, the optical fibers connected to their heads glowing brightly.
But a moment later, to their horror, the missile self-corrected, continuing its descent towards the planet.
During the development of the first missile, Ayla had run countless simulations, exploring hundreds of millions of scenarios and accounting for every possibility.
Magnetism, the force most likely wielded by a Type 1 civilization, was naturally within the scope of her calculations.
After three unsuccessful attempts, the creatures resorted to signal jamming and deception to try and disrupt the missile.
But it was all for naught.
To prevent hacking, the missile itself wasn't equipped with a sophisticated AI. Instead, it relied on the simplest of guidance systems—a heat sensor.
And in the vast darkness of space, the largest heat source was the planet itself.
Having exhausted all their options.
It's been two and a half hours.
The missile reached the planet's outer atmosphere.
It was too late!
Only 12 minutes remained until impact.
Panic gripped the creatures on the planet, but they could only watch helplessly as the object hurtled towards them from the sky.
They had no idea what it was, only that it posed an immense threat.
12 minutes later...
The missile slammed into the planet's surface. The immense weight and velocity imparted such kinetic energy that the massive projectile punched straight through the planet's crust.
Like a needle piercing tofu, it passed through effortlessly, encountering no resistance.
After penetrating several thousand meters, the missile reached the molten layer.
"Click, click, click."
A faint sound emanated from within the missile.
The heat of the magma had triggered the weapon's detonator.
This was pre-programmed.
Detonating the missile itself was a complex technical challenge.
Impact detonation, as demonstrated by the earlier attempts at interception, risked premature explosion.
Remote detonation was also impractical due to the vast distance; the signal delay alone was 5.4 days.
Therefore, heat-triggered detonation was the most reliable and predictable method.
The ensuing explosion didn't generate a shockwave or any debris cloud.
It didn't even produce a sound.
Only a wave of intense cold radiated outwards from the impact site, through the crust and into the planet's core. The surrounding magma experienced atomic-level cooling, the brightly glowing lava instantly dimming and solidifying.
This cooling effect spread relentlessly outwards for 4000 kilometers, breaching the Mohorovičić discontinuity and reaching the mantle.
Simultaneously.
Cold!
This was what the creatures on the planet slowly began to feel over the next day.
The lava in every volcano began to cool, and the planet's magnetic field weakened.
The frigid chill of space gradually seeped into the planet's surface like an encroaching storm.
This day marked the beginning of the end for this geothermal civilization.
From space, the once brightly lit planet dimmed, becoming a dead world.
As the terrifying cold descended, countless life forms that depended on the volcanoes began to perish.
Creatures were instantly frozen solid, becoming ice sculptures, without any time to react.
The surface was littered with frozen life forms in various poses, eternally trapped in this moment, as if time itself had been paused.
Two creatures, caught mid-conversation, their overhead lights flickering and dying, stared at each other, their hundreds of eyes expressing emotions simpler, yet perhaps more profound, than those of humans.
...
One creature was calculating how long it would take to be promoted to its desired position.
...
A mechanic was repairing a spacecraft.
...
While civilizations might be vastly different, many things remained universal.
These diverse lives were extinguished in an instant.
Nearly a third of the planet's 387 million inhabitants perished in a single day.
Fortunately, they hadn't relied solely on geothermal energy, having also developed nuclear power. This alternative energy source saved a significant portion of the population from the encroaching cold.
After half a month, the planet began to glow again.
Faintly, intermittently.
Like a silent, mournful elegy.
...
Far away, the Hope had moved to another, quieter region of space.
Luna hadn't anticipated the devastating impact a single Absolute Zero missile would have on a civilization.
She hadn't entered hibernation for two years.
She was now 43 years old.
However, she was in high spirits, having collaborated with Ayla on a new breakthrough.
This achievement could potentially advance their civilization level by another 0.1 or even 0.2.