While Luna was researching bio-engineered warships, Ayla was working on something else.
The world beyond the Federation remained fragmented, a chaotic mix of explorers and space pirates vying for dominance. The largest organizations were on the scale of something like the Death Star.
The Federation could easily destroy these so-called fearsome space pirates with a single small warship.
They were too weak, so weak as to be useless to the Federation.
So how could they become useful?
After discussion, Luna and Ayla concluded that they needed to become stronger, strong enough to have at least some fighting capacity and expansion capabilities. They could establish their own kingdoms beyond the Federation, creating external governments.
The benefits of this were quite clear.
First, it would provide a legitimate way for scholars facing the end of their lifespans to avoid death. These scholars were valuable resources for the Galactic Federation.
Why this approach?
Imagine if the Federation granted these scholars lifespans of tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of years. What would happen to ordinary citizens? A few times the lifespan might be acceptable, but dozens or hundreds of times more would be unbearable.
The Galactic Federation would quickly erupt in internal conflict. The Federation could suppress these uprisings, but the underlying problem would remain ideological, festering within; warships couldn’t quell such dissent.
At that point, the Federation wouldn't be any different from a society without citizens.
The second benefit was fostering competition.
Other civilizations mostly exerted the pressure of destruction, but this was often distant and imperceptible to ordinary citizens.
Creating powerful external organizations to exert pressure on Federation citizens would encourage them to strive. It wouldn’t be everyone, but even a fraction would shift the overall societal atmosphere.
The third point, again, is the resource theory of imagination.
Technology requires imagination, as do social and civilizational structures. Diverse civilizational structures offer guidance; mistakes can be avoided, and successes replicated.
Within controllable limits, diverse structures are undoubtedly beneficial.
It's like shopping; comparing different options allows you to find the best and most cost-effective. The more diverse the civilizational pathways, the easier it is to identify the most sustainable one.
There are many other advantages.
As for disadvantages, there’s the risk of internal conflict, but that’s unlikely. Ayla would maintain control over these organizations; they would remain part of the Federation. The opposition would exist only in the minds of ordinary citizens and the leadership of these organizations.
Simply put, it’s like two nations with emperors who are both impostors. The two nations engage in prolonged conflict, unaware that a single entity controls both, including the emperors themselves.
Luna and Ayla spent a long time devising how to create such organizations.
Secretly supporting a specific faction wouldn't be ideal; they couldn’t fully control its development. They wanted an organization independent from the Federation, focused on its own development and progress, not a group of space pirates perpetually threatening the Federation.
Directly cultivating specific individuals would make the organization too similar to the Federation, with too little animosity.
To achieve balance, Luna devised a plan.
The Protagonist of the Era plan.
Or simply the 【Protagonist Plan】.
Secretly nurture an individual with leadership qualities and abilities, enabling them to rapidly rise and establish a large organization, all while remaining unaware of the true forces behind their success.
The core concept was simple:
Create a 【System】.
This System would provide the chosen individual with various advantages. For example, in the early stages, whenever they encountered trouble, the System would enhance their physical abilities or provide weapons, boosting their combat prowess.
Later, as they grew, the System could provide starships, advanced knowledge, even a Boundary God, with Ayla subtly guiding them. This individual would rapidly become powerful, perfectly meeting Luna and Ayla's requirements. Once sufficiently powerful, they would be subjected to a staged battle, sustaining severe injuries and permanently losing the System.
This individual and their organization would appear unrelated to the Federation, but Ayla would control everything from behind the scenes.
To ensure quality, Luna instructed Ayla to initially select twelve protagonist candidates, placing them around the Federation, the Triangular Sector, and the cosmic Silk Road for their rise.
How many organizations ultimately emerged was up to fate.
Luna could tolerate up to twelve powerful independent organizations beyond the Federation, or even more. The minimum, however, was three – one each in the Federation's periphery, the Triangular Sector, and the cosmic Silk Road. This was the bottom line.
After proposing the Protagonist Plan, Luna realized that while the Federation heavily invested in scholars, it neglected military talent.
The Federation still relied heavily on Ayla for strategic planning. Most military commanders had combat experience only from safe simulated environments, not actual life-or-death battles.
Therefore, Luna proposed a new military talent cultivation plan.
The Mortality Selection plan.
Also known as the Hyperdimensional Space.
Randomly selected citizens from within and outside the Federation would be pulled into a special simulated world via their quark robots and given tasks both within the simulation and the real world.
Each task would be life-or-death, similar to the "infinite flow" genre of 21st-century fiction.
This trial by fire would forge powerful individuals. These citizens could be assigned dangerous missions, like contacting the Olive Branch Civilization, or even commanding fleets during the war with the Filament civilization.
The two plans would run concurrently.
There were no significant technical hurdles; the Galactic Federation was far more capable than any of the gods in those 21st-century novels. With advances in biology, beings like the terrifying 【Supreme Being】, comparable to mythical deities, would become increasingly common.
Luna hoped the Mortality Selection plan would usher the Galactic Federation into an age of individualism, highlighting the power of individuals.
Perhaps some individuals would even surpass her.
Luna wouldn't be jealous. As an individual, she wasn't particularly powerful; her highest achievement was being a Federation Luminary, not even a high-ranking scholar.
Her true identity was the ruler of the entire Galactic Federation. All powerful individuals ultimately served the Federation, and thus, served her.
Now, Luna patiently awaited the success of these two plans.
...
“Ugh…”
Timus bolted upright in bed, looking around warily, then his face registered shock.
“Wasn’t the entire Star City destroyed?”
“Then where…”
He quickly checked the date and found it was 26,812 AD.
“The Star City was completely destroyed in 26,814 AD. Space pirates, attempting to steal the city’s energy, infiltrated it. They were discovered a few days later, and the Star City mayor ordered their execution. However, these pirates had significant military backing.”
“A year-long battle ensued. This is a remote sector, so no reinforcements arrived. After supplies dwindled, the Star City was completely destroyed by the pirates.”
“No, there’s another factor. There were collaborators within the Star City working with the pirates; otherwise, they wouldn't have succeeded.”
“I’ve been reborn!”
“Our current scientific theories are incomplete; it seems time can be reversed.”
As Timus pondered this, a voice echoed in his mind.
“Super Gene System successfully bound. Host can choose one of the following gene pools for genetic enhancement!”
“Option 1: 【Controller】. This gene pool enhances neural pathways, granting partial Level 4 psionic abilities and awakening the Hypnosis skill to control individuals.”
“Option 2: 【Strength Specialist】. This gene pool allows partial insectoid transformation, doubling base physical stats and granting extreme speed, enabling movement at 2.4 km/s on land.”
“Option 3: 【Optical Manipulator】. This gene pool grants the ability to manipulate light, allowing for cloaking and creating optical illusions to confuse enemies.”
Timus stared at the three options, wide-eyed.
He knew about gene pools; many powerful figures in the Star City possessed them, granting them superhuman combat abilities.
Gene pools were also widely used in the military, but they were supposedly removed after discharge.
These three gene pools were high-level; ordinary gene pools only enhanced physical attributes without granting special abilities.
“Reborn characters in Federation novels always get a system. It seems I've joined their ranks.”
Timus considered the three options, each with its advantages and disadvantages, representing control, agility, and support, respectively.
“It's a shame I can only choose one. If only I could have all three,” he thought.
To his surprise, the system responded.
“Confirm current selections? The host can refresh their genes weekly, choosing one gene pool each time. Genes can be repeatedly selected and fused. The host can also lock the three current options, preventing refresh, allowing for future selections from new options.”
A weekly refresh and selection opportunity?
“Doesn’t that mean I’ll become increasingly powerful the longer I live?”
“If I fuse dozens, even hundreds of gene pools, how strong will I become?”
“This is the system? Incredible!”
“With this Super Gene System, I might be able to prevent the Star City’s destruction.”
Since he could eventually select all of them, Timus chose the third option, 【Optical Manipulator】, without hesitation.
Invisibility—every male in the Federation desired it, especially since Optical Manipulator also allowed for illusions. This seemed like the most practical ability at this stage.
With this gene pool, he could… peek at widows… no, he needed to find the space pirates and stop them.
Perhaps he could anonymously send a letter to the Star City officials, warning them of the pirates’ plan.
Timus was determined not to repeat the past.
As a reborn butterfly, he had to flap his wings.
His family and everything he knew were in that Star City.
...
This Star City was over 30 light-years away from the Galactic Federation's capital, Alpha Eridani.
Luna contacted Ayla.
“How’s the Protagonist of the Era plan progressing?”
Ayla replied, “Smoothly.”
“I divided the twelve protagonists into two groups. The first group receives implanted memories, making them believe they’re reborn individuals who obtained a system.”
“These ‘reborn’ individuals foresee a future catastrophe; their purpose is to prevent it. I’ll guide them towards power. In the process, they’ll inevitably kill; the Federation can then label them as traitors and space pirates, forcing them into opposition.”
“The second group is similar, but without the reborn memories. They’ll encounter difficulties, be forced into certain situations, and then use the system to gain power.”
“The systems these protagonists receive vary. Some provide genetic enhancements, some technological advancements, some are simply ‘god-level wealth’ systems granting near-infinite Energy Credits, and some exploit information asymmetry, granting them foresight.”
“System design is still under research; we can’t predict which systems are optimal. Therefore, these first twelve protagonists are a test group; their experiences will inform the next generation.”
Reality was cruel.
Thousands of failures might pave the way for a single successful system user.
“I heard an explorer group discovered a species with the potential for sapience in a star system 109 light-years away. Ayla, what do you think?”
Luna felt they could cultivate this species, but not conventionally.
Ayla understood.
“Secretly provide assistance, allowing them to slowly develop over millennia, then leave their home planet and become a Level 1 civilization or higher, at which point they encounter the Galactic Federation.”
“The Galactic Federation wouldn't necessarily help them, perhaps even gradually assimilating and encroaching upon them.”
“They would endure this, waiting for their civilization to rise.”
“Eventually, they would reach Level 2, becoming equals with the Galactic Federation…”
Ayla had perfectly grasped Luna’s intent.
After proposing the Protagonist of the Era and Mortality Selection plans, Luna had the idea of creating a cluster of civilizations, seemingly opposed to each other, but secretly controlled by her and Ayla.
The benefits of this had already been discussed.
The reason Luna and Ayla agreed on this approach was simple.
The Federation was stagnating. The higher they climbed, the more difficult it became to advance even 0.1 of a civilization level.
Luna and Ayla couldn't hold the Galactic Federation back, forcing it down a specific path; that wasn't realistic.
The Galactic Federation was vast, requiring standardized rules for effective governance. These standardized rules made it difficult to foster competition and cultivate talent.
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Their best efforts were things like the New Dawn Games and the scholar rankings.
This wasn't enough!
Both Luna and Ayla needed more, and now they had the power to achieve it.
...
Gus stumbled home, exhausted. Ten-hour workdays were brutal.
And this was mandated by the Federation. Because of quark robots, every citizen possessed incredible physical endurance, easily capable of working not just ten, but fifty hours straight.
But the key was that 99% of manual labor in the Federation was performed by robots. Citizens' jobs were mentally demanding.
Their bodies weren't tired, but their minds were.
For a long time, Gus had pondered the meaning of his life.
Despite the vastness of the Federation, despite the beauty of space, he, like his parents, might spend his entire life stuck in this Star City.
Of course, the Star City was enormous, home to tens of billions of citizens.
He hadn't even explored the entire Star City, or even his own district. In fact, for his first 30-some years, he’d only lived within a single block of the Star City.
He often felt lost. Was this how he wanted to continue?
He still had hundreds of years left; would it all be like this?
He was deeply dissatisfied.
But he couldn't change anything; the unknown terrified him. He didn't know what he might gain or lose by changing.
He turned on the simulated TV, filling the quiet room with noise.
It was a news channel. Entertainment videos were typically found on streaming platforms, not regular television.
“Earlier today, a series of murders occurred in Sunny District, Block 29, Lane 2, of the T12 Star City in the Lolis system. The serial killer typically disguises themselves as a delivery robot. Residents in the vicinity are advised to exercise caution.”
“In recent years, increasing mental stress in the Federation has driven many individuals to extremes…”
The TV droned on, but Gus wasn't listening. He began preparing dinner.
There were automated cooking machines on the market, even humanoid robots with dexterity capable of various tasks.
But Gus preferred to cook himself; to him, that food lacked soul.
Only food made by living beings had a special flavor.
He started making his favorite Rodinburi, a sweet, liquid dish popular in the Federation. However, due to physiological differences between species, the same dish might taste sour, bitter, or salty to different species, so its popularity varied.
“Dilili”
His personalized doorbell rang.
Gus was puzzled, “Who would come at this hour?”
He spoke through the door, “Who is it?”
A mechanical voice responded, “Gus, your mother sent you a package. Please confirm and receive.”
Gus, unsuspecting, opened the door.
A Kate stood outside. Most robots in the Federation were humanoid; Kate robots were uncommon.
He received a verification document, essentially a signature confirming receipt.
He reached out to take the package. At that moment, the Kate’s tentacles pierced through the package and into his body. As a Lelera, a cold-blooded species, he felt an unprecedented burning sensation.
Intense heat spread through his body, causing it to swell, then, in less than two seconds, he exploded.
His body was torn into countless pieces that splattered everywhere. Because of his quark robots, Gus could still think, using his surviving nervous system.
“I’m dying?”
“Just like that?”
Federation technology could revive him, but he knew assassins wouldn’t make such rookie mistakes. Disrupting the quark robots' signal would prevent them from maintaining his brain activity.
Indeed, his cognitive functions were fading.
He was truly dying.
Darkness consumed him completely. Gus’s ordinary life ended abruptly in his youth, not even reaching 40.
...
“Hey, wake up.”
Feeling a kick, Gus slowly regained consciousness.
He looked around, confused.
“Wasn’t I dead?”
“Is there really a Hell?”
A Lightwings next to him said, “I don’t know about Hell, but we’re definitely not there.”
“???”
Gus didn't understand.
A human female spoke, “This feels too real to be a simulation. We must be in some strange space.”
“We can even feel pain. Unbelievable.”
The Gargleblast who had kicked Gus earlier added, “I think it's a simulation. We can see our own stats; it's just like a game.”
“But it’s odd. We all supposedly died. Why are we here?”
“If the Federation allows citizens to regain identities in a simulated world after death, why haven’t we heard of it?”
There were twelve individuals in total. From their conversations, Gus pieced together some information.
He noticed a small icon in his vision, like the interface in a typical simulation. He clicked it, and a window popped up.
It displayed his information.
【Name】: Gus Vovorett
【Race】: Lelera
【Level】: 1 (Try to survive, little ant.)
【Strength】: 1 (You come from a physically unimpressive race; feel free to wallow in your inferiority.)
【Agility】: 3 (You should be grateful; your delicate frame makes you slightly faster than average, and those decorative wings might help you flee danger.)
【Constitution】: 0.5 (Without a doubt, a dog could kill you.)
【Spirit】: 3 (Thank your era; it constantly exercises your peach-pit-sized brain.)
【Luck】: 7 (This means a 7% bonus to everything you do. Feel lucky.)
【Talent】: Workaholic (When focused on a task, you gain a +50 Luck bonus.)
【Skills】: None (What did you expect? What skills could a corporate drone possibly have?)
【Items】: None (You’re starting empty-handed. To survive, grab everything you can.)
【Available Attribute Points】: 0 (Leveling up or obtaining items grants attribute points to improve your five base stats.)
【Ability Currency】: 0 (Completing tasks earns Ability Currency, your future currency, exchangeable for anything.)
It was exactly like a game, and a rather simplistic one at that.
At that moment, a voice echoed in the minds of everyone present.
“This is a crimson wasteland, the domain of the Nightmare Weaver. No living being dares enter its domain at night, lest they be dragged to their deaths by nightmares. Angel has long gone without sleep; she must protect her village, but she is nearing her limit. She needs comrades to help her ward off the nightmares throughout the night and protect the villagers’ peaceful slumber…”
As the voice spoke, their surroundings shifted. When they regained their senses, they stood upon crimson earth.
A window appeared before them, displaying their mission.
【Main Quest】: Help Angel defend the village for 12 hours, preventing any villager deaths. Reward: 100 Ability Currency. Failure: Total obliteration!
【Side Quest】: Slay nightmares. Reward: 50 Ability Currency per nightmare, no limit. No penalty for failure.
【Side Quest】: Locate and eliminate the source of the nightmares. You might obtain something unimaginable. No penalty for failure.
Gus’s mind raced.
This place was familiar; it resembled a movie called Nightmare, with a protagonist named Angel.
Was this the world inside the movie?
Unbelievable.
He looked around; the others were confused. The Federation was vast, with endless entertainment options; not everyone had seen the same movie.
“This is a movie world. I know some information; follow me,” Gus announced.
Unexpectedly, the others immediately treated him as a leader, bombarding him with questions.
This attention felt amazing.
Gus reveled in it.
Perhaps this was his chance to escape his mundane life.
...
Luna woke up after a long sleep, a full 50 hours. She had been exhausted, working continuously for a month without a single second of rest.
As the Federation expanded, Ayla struggled to manage everything, requiring Luna to oversee various critical areas.
The biggest recent event was the Filament civilization's third attack.
The second attack occurred 1000 years ago, signaling the Filament civilization's intention for a full-scale assault. After a thousand years, the main Filament fleet had finally arrived.
According to sensor readings, the Filament civilization had deployed over 110,000 ships, a staggering number.
To counter the Filament civilization’s offensive, Luna traveled to the front lines, accompanied by Ayla's avatar and wielding authority over all Boundary Gods in the surrounding star systems.
Ayla’s avatar and the Boundary Gods could handle the details, but Luna had to set the overall strategy.
Mountains of data lay before her, demanding constant analysis.
When she received the data, a quick glance revealed its size: 15.2 yottabytes. In 2020 on Earth, the total data generated by 8 billion people was only 44 zettabytes. One yottabyte equals 1024 zettabytes; 15.2 yottabytes was equivalent to 17.2 million terabytes.
Of course, she couldn't process it all herself; Ayla’s avatar handled most of it. But Luna’s share was still 152 exabytes, or 163.2 billion gigabytes.
Luna felt that without her gene pool and the miniature auxiliary brain implant, she would have died from exhaustion.
She checked the time after waking.
It was now 37,110 AD, over 10,000 years after the implementation of the Protagonist of the Era and Mortality Selection plans.
Federation technology had been steadily advancing.
Due to the large-scale destruction of stars, the Federation had reached Level 2.3 in energy production. The only lagging areas were weaponry and defense systems; these remained the Federation's weaknesses.
The auxiliary brain implant was invented by a New Dawn scholar who rose through the New Dawn Games. It was essentially a miniature server implanted in the brain.
This highly advanced implant, weighing only 10 grams, possessed computational power far exceeding that of a typical home computer.
And these weren't 21st-century home computers; even the lowest-end Federation home computer had a thousand times the combined processing power of all computers on Earth in the 21st century.
The auxiliary brain implant opened up new possibilities for individuals. Its inventor became a Federation Luminary, though her fame had faded somewhat; the implant was invented 2800 years ago.
Over those 2800 years, the processing power of this cutting-edge technology had only tripled, though that was still far beyond expectations.
The only drawback was the auxiliary brain's high power consumption. It needed to be near a high-power energy source, using wireless technology to channel hundreds of megawatts through it.
For safety, the implant was typically placed in the arm or leg, away from vital organs.
This auxiliary brain was the only reason Luna could handle such a workload.
But it was still exhausting.
“Ayla, is the Heavenly Chain ready?” Luna asked, still lying in her incredibly comfortable, massage-equipped bed.
Ayla’s voice responded.
“The Heavenly Chain will arrive at the designated sector in five hours.”
“However, the enemy fleet has deviated from its course. A star is obstructing their current trajectory.”
Luna reviewed the data, reaffirming her judgment.
“The star is part of the plan. We want to engage them in this star system. We're at a disadvantage in open space; it’s best to draw them into this system.”
“Here, as you can see, this star system has numerous asteroids. These aren’t small; the enemy ships are faster than ours, so we need to negate their speed advantage.”
“Furthermore, we lack large-scale, high-powered weapons. Fighting within the star system prevents them from using system-level weapons against our fleet. This favors our bio-engineered warships and super-swarm nests.”
“Our strategy is to divide their forces into smaller groups, using our home-field advantage to defeat them piecemeal, minimizing our losses.”
“You've reviewed the logs from Probe C-172, haven’t you?”
The C missions were reconnaissance missions, gathering intelligence on the Filament civilization.
Over 100,000 probes—small, sub-meter-sized spacecraft—were deployed. In a single star system controlled by the Filament civilization, tens of thousands of warships were detected.
Luna initially thought this was a major military base, a staging ground for their attack on the Galactic Federation.
However, further reconnaissance proved her wrong; every Filament star system had a massive fleet.
Ayla’s analysis suggested this was a Constant State civilization.
A Constant State civilization's development has plateaued, unlike the rapidly developing Galactic Federation.
If the Galactic Federation was a rapidly growing company, the Filament civilization was a developed nation, prioritizing stability. Their previous investments were now yielding returns, driving the civilization's progress.
This allowed the Filament civilization to maintain vast fleets.
Projections estimated the Filament civilization possessed between 4 and 6 million warships, counting only those exceeding 10,000 meters.
The Galactic Federation’s warship classification had been revised several times. Vessels under 10,000 meters were classified as starships, while those under 2,000 meters were designated as spacecraft.
Luna and Ayla believed this Filament attack was a diversion, not their main force.
Following the previous C missions, the Filament civilization had increased their vigilance; the Galactic Federation could no longer monitor their fleet movements.
“Our fleet size is significantly smaller than the Filament civilization’s; that’s our weakness.”
“Based on estimates, the Filament civilization’s available military energy surpasses ours by at least eight times, meaning their combat power is also eight times greater,” Ayla explained, presenting her energy analysis.
Luna acknowledged this.
“That’s precisely why we must divide their forces, preventing them from concentrating and reinforcing their potential main fleet.”
She looked at the star-studded ceiling. “Another war is upon us.”
“I’d prefer peaceful development, but peace between civilizations is a fallacy.”
As she spoke those words, the true war between the Galactic Federation and the Filament civilization had already begun…
...
The Heavenly Chain was a lower-tier planetary dreadnought, over 900 kilometers long, slightly larger than the Kunlun.
Starting in 34,547 AD, the Galactic Federation officially entered the age of massive warships, possessing over ten such vessels.
Over the past 2500 years, the Galactic Federation had ramped up production, increasing the number of massive warships to 22. The Heavenly Chain was relatively young, having served for just over 800 years.
As a newer-generation dreadnought, the Heavenly Chain boasted a top speed of 30,278 km/s. Shortly after commissioning, it received orders to deploy to a frontline star system, currently stationed about 7 light-years from the Federation border.
The original plan was to launch an attack on the Filament fleet from this system, but the Filament civilization’s superior sensor technology detected them months ahead of schedule.
Before the Heavenly Chain could react, it came under attack.
Fortunately, it was only a probing attack, and the Heavenly Chain had its energy shields active as a precaution.
White light enveloped the Heavenly Chain from bow to stern, making the ship resemble an egg. Inside the bridge, Lulian, the ship's commander (a different rank than captain on smaller vessels), saw only white on the viewscreen.
“Maintain course; do not retaliate at this distance.”
“We’ll engage them within the star system; that’s our battlefield.”
“This star system's location is ideal. It’s directly in their path; they can't ignore it; they'll have to clear this point.”
Occupying this system meant any Filament fleet attacking the Galactic Federation would face a threat from two sides. Fueled by the star itself, this system was essentially a fortress with billions of years of energy reserves.
This was a major thorn in the Filament civilization’s side.
Furthermore, the Filament civilization couldn't simply destroy the star. This system’s star was a red dwarf; its destruction wouldn’t pose a significant threat to the dreadnought.
Even if it did, the dreadnought could easily escape.
Tactically, the Filament civilization had to enter the system and engage the Heavenly Chain and its fleet.
Approximately four hours later, the Heavenly Chain entered the star's heliosphere.
Twelve days later, the Heavenly Chain reached its designated position. Numerous engineering vessels launched from the dreadnought, deploying to the various asteroids. These vessels carried only energy reserves, thrusters, and a factory.
These factories could mass-produce and repair weapons and collect usable resources.
Lulian continuously monitored the enemy, confirming their approach.
The Filament fleet was currently 21,000 astronomical units away. Given their speed of 42,000 km/s, they would reach the star system in approximately 28 months.
This was their preparation period; they had to stockpile forces.
“Deploy the swarm nests; we need at least a million, providing a constant stream of swarms as harassment units.”
“The enemy’s weaponry is highly advanced, improved since the second campaign, mostly in range. While swarms are effective, they’re not as impactful as before.”
“Therefore, we must defeat them in direct combat.”
“This war will determine the fate of over a trillion citizens in over 20 star systems along the Federation border.”
Lulian felt the immense pressure. Others saw him as a seasoned commander within the military system, but only he knew he was just a pawn, a reincarnator, carrying out pre-ordained missions across realities.
This was his 20,893rd mission. He was known as the strongest reincarnator in that other reality, yet he couldn't help but feel tense. He was convinced this was real, a confrontation with a civilization as powerful as the Galactic Federation.
A true war was unfolding, and its outcome rested on his decisions.
“The missions provided some information and military training memories, but it’s not enough.”
“The largest campaign I participated in was the Daystar Fall, a simulated campaign on a hundred-billion scale. But compared to this, it’s like a child’s game.”
“This mission has a thousand-year time limit. Ridiculous! My entire life, from birth to my journeys across various worlds, hasn't even been that long.”
He felt himself trembling, a mix of fear and excitement.
The Federation's future rested in his hands!
At that moment, the Heavenly Chain’s server relayed a message.
【The Federation Supreme Military Commander requests communication via tachyon device.】
Tachyon communication had finally advanced in the past 10,000 years, or rather, after 30,000 years of research and exploration, it finally bore fruit, allowing for faster and more complex data transmission.
It now supported direct communication, and with speeds reaching 2600 times the speed of light, even a 7-light-year distance meant a delay of only one day.
This technology relied on the Federation’s exploration of hyperspace, utilizing strings to manipulate tachyons in other dimensions and using closed-string vibrational frequencies for data transmission.
More accurately, closed strings are encoded in the current dimension, then sent through the cosmological membrane to a higher dimension where they attach to tachyons. These closed strings are imbued with specific frequencies, and thus specific energies, creating a weak gravitational pull that attracts tachyons. However, these frequencies decay over time. Once decayed, the closed strings detach from the tachyons and return to the original dimension.
Why can tachyon communication speed be increased if tachyons have a constant speed?
This new method is more precise. Original tachyon communication, due to its imprecision, required long transmission cycles. For example, to transmit a single digit, it wasn't sent once; it was sent thousands, even tens of thousands of times. The receiver would then collect dozens of these transmissions to confirm accuracy. Thus, early tachyon communication was limited to around 1900 times the speed of light.
Lulian was startled by the message.
The Federation Supreme Military Commander? That was an incredibly high position, practically limitless from his perspective. Such a high-ranking official contacting him…
He took a minute to compose himself before accepting the communication.
A youthful voice came from the other end, “Commander Lulian, it’s a pleasure to speak with you.”
“We can use this method to communicate during the upcoming campaign. I expect complete transparency; only then can we achieve victory.”
“Let me introduce myself; I am Luna.”