Gazing at the shattered planet.

Kula was stunned. A nearby light flashed, transmitting a word message.

"Attack!"

He froze.

He knew who had sent the message.

A moment later, his hundreds of eyes focused on the target.

"Forget everything else. We attack!"

Hundreds of warships continued their advance towards an enemy they were almost certainly unable to defeat.

...

On the Purple Thorn warship, a deep purple creature emitted a series of "Looo" sounds.

It was laughter.

It was mocking the Multi-eyed's futile efforts.

Even witnessing such power, they still dared to attack.

A signal emanated from the sphere atop its head, reaching the warship.

The warship once again focused its energy.

A laser erupted from the ship's core, not a focused beam but a fan of destructive energy.

Countless Multi-eyed warships were instantly destroyed.

Even with some energy loss, this weapon possessed the power to obliterate a planet.

Destruction.

Explosions bloomed across space—no fire, no smoke, only the disintegration of warships and the dazzling light of released energy.

This wasn't a fair fight.

It was a suicide mission.

They had a way out—abandoning the Multi-eyed planet—but their master wouldn't allow it.

She seemed to believe they could win.

Kula could only pray that his master was right.

At the very least, he had to ensure the survival of the elderly and children on the Multi-eyed planet.

"Commander, our ships can't break through."

"Even if we could, what then?"

"You know our ships lack powerful weapons; all energy goes to propulsion."

"Don't we have secret weapons?"

"Where are those ships now?"

Anxiety filled the flagship's bridge.

The losses were staggering.

They were 12 AU from the enemy warship—a vast distance requiring considerable travel time.

During that time, the enemy could attack at will.

This single attack had already cost them nearly a hundred ships.

Their combined firepower wasn't enough.

This suicide mission was poorly executed.

Kula thought of their "secret weapons."

Only 962 ships remained, including those damaged; the original fleet numbered 1287.

Theoretically, 325 ships were missing.

These ships carried minimal crew and had departed the Multi-eyed planet earlier.

Legend held that these ships carried weapons capable of countering the enemy, making the current fleet expendable.

But as the fleet commander, Kula, like everyone else, only knew the legend; the ships' whereabouts were unknown.

"No questions. No hesitation. Attack!"

His message was unwavering, chilling the Multi-eyed around him.

Was there no other way?

Over 100 ships had been destroyed. The enemy had abandoned its main cannon, instead using countless lasers.

Blazing beams of light, like countless scythes, reaped their lives.

A laser pierced through their ship's hull.

"We don't even have electromagnetic shields!"

Some Multi-eyed became translucent, their internal organs visible—a sign of extreme fear.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Another laser followed, striking the ship's bow, narrowly missing the bridge. Had it hit, the entire bridge would have been destroyed.

The enemy seemed focused on their flagship.

More attacks followed.

The warships could only evade by predicting the enemy's attacks, but the lasers were too dense and numerous. The enemy might miss many times, but the Multi-eyed couldn't afford a single miss.

Death loomed over them.

More warships in the distance suffered the same fate.

136...

148...

162...

They counted the losses.

Yet, they had only traveled one AU.

Suddenly, the laser fire ceased.

"Is a more powerful attack coming?"

The Multi-eyed feared the enemy wasn't ceasing fire but preparing to use its main cannon to wipe them out.

But this felt different.

"The enemy warship is moving!"

Kula stared at the screen.

Had the enemy decided that the distance was too great and intended to finish them off at close range?

Were they so confident, treating them like insects?

But something was wrong...

"The enemy warship isn't moving towards us but elsewhere. It's heading towards the Alpha Centauri binary system..."

The screen displayed data on Alpha Centauri.

While precise tracking was impossible, they detected flashing lights.

Each point of light represented an energy burst.

"The Alpha Centauri Dyson swarm is under attack."

"It's already been taken by the enemy. There might be enemy personnel there, and the warships are going to rescue them."

The Dyson swarm under attack.

Kula thought of the missing 300-plus warships.

Could it be...

That the missing ships were there?

"Should we pursue them, Commander?"

A Multi-eyed asked, already knowing the answer, yet hoping for a different order.

Kula had no choice; their mission was to attack, to pursue.

As he was about to give the order, a message arrived.

"Proceed to the Long Serpent Sector!"

The Long Serpent Sector?

Wasn't that the enemy's base?

Were they planning to exploit the enemy's absence and launch a surprise attack?

Kula didn't know.

He didn't need to know.

He was simply a 'machine', following orders.

"No!"

"We are going to the Long Serpent Sector!"

Upon receiving the first part of the message, the Multi-eyed rejoiced.

But the next part stunned them.

What was the purpose of going to the Long Serpent Sector? Could their ships destroy the enemy's base?

Wasn't this simply another suicide mission?

But they also sensed that this wasn't Kula's decision; no one blamed him.

So, they would go...

At least it couldn't be worse than before.

And it was clear that their master had a plan; this wasn't a suicide mission.

All available energy was dedicated to propulsion, for precisely this reason—reaching the Long Serpent Sector.

This was their last shred of hope.

...

Meanwhile.

The U-shaped warship accelerated to 12,478 km/s.

But reaching the Alpha Centauri binary system still took five years.

After all, Alpha Centauri was 0.2 light-years from Proxima Centauri.

Space was now filled with debris—the remnants of the Dyson swarm created by Ayla.

But the current focus wasn't Ayla but the Purple Thorns.

They controlled this region, stationing tens of thousands of soldiers there.

While there were some smaller spacecraft, none could withstand the enemy's warships and weaponry.

The Purple Thorns believed their opponents posed no threat.

This complacency would cost them dearly.

They broadcast a signal searching for survivors, but the universe remained silent, offering no response.

Suddenly.

They received a message: damage to the warship's hull.

The Purple Thorns prepared to dispatch engineers to investigate.

But as soon as the message was sent, similar reports flooded in.

Their ships were becoming riddled with holes.

Panic gripped the Purple Thorns; they frantically investigated.

They discovered microscopic entities similar to their own neutrino-scale organisms.

The difference was that these entities were quark-sized, not biological, but mechanical, far more sophisticated than their neutrino-scale creations, capable of storing immense energy.

They seemed to have mastered the manipulation of strings, densely packing them into a tiny space.

At this density, a slight disruption in the strings could trigger an immediate release of energy, creating a microscopic black hole.

This black hole would exist for only 0.248 seconds, enough to destroy matter within a few meters.

But this wouldn't significantly affect a ship or a living being.

The problem was...

There were countless of them.

According to their observations, the density of these quark-sized devices was 17.5 billion per cubic meter.

The total number was incalculable!

Their enemy couldn't possibly possess such advanced technology.

Yet, it was real.

"Gravitational waves!"

"Release gravitational waves!"

Only gravitational waves could influence the black holes, causing the microscopic black holes to move through space. This involved using gravitational waves to create a gradient, propelling the black holes like surfers.

The gravitational effect would also alter the distance between objects, pushing the quark-sized devices further apart.

But even so.

A single wave of black hole attacks had severely damaged their warships.

Many internal systems had malfunctioned.

This was their second major attack, even more devastating than the first.

They were furious.

From their perspective, the galactic federation was an ant they could crush whenever they wished, an ant that only survived because it was useful. They had tolerated it for a hundred years.

But now, this ant had become a rat, taking a bite out of them.

This was unacceptable!

Suddenly, a large fleet emerged from behind the star.

These ships charged towards them.

Was this all they had?

The Purple Thorns felt their enemy was resorting to desperate measures.

Their rage needed an outlet; they would unleash one final attack.

Another surge of energy; lasers capable of destroying planets swept across the fleet, annihilating everything in their path.

Destruction everywhere.

Their enemy was nothing more than a swarm of Type 1 insects.

This was the inevitable consequence of daring to oppose them.

A hundred years of waiting, and this was all the enemy could muster. They had overestimated their opponent.

They had initially intended to enslave this star system.

Now that it was destroyed, it held little value; they would simply obliterate the entire system.

This was the Purple Thorn's plan.

But then, from the wreckage of the destroyed ships, a long, black needle accelerated towards them at over 22,000 km/s.

What was that?

"???"

The Purple Thorns were utterly confused.

The object appeared to be a 1000-meter-long metallic drill.

Deep within Alpha Centauri A, Ayla monitored the battlefield.

For years, since discovering the microscopic machines, she had been unable to replicate them but could exploit their properties.

And now, the critical moment had arrived.

"Launching 187 God's Rods!"

"Calculating..."

"Enemy interception probability: 2.37%!"