Turning Point (1)
"Again? We lost again?!"
Cystus shouted, his eyes bloodshot. The pureblood supremacists standing tensely before him struggled to swallow their dry saliva in the face of his shout, filled with murderous intent.
They were currently at an outpost built atop the Kraken Sea—a gathering place for the pureblood supremacists' forces on Titan, and also a facility meant to concentrate the remaining power of the First Root to forge new armaments.
Because the process of crafting these weapons generated tremendous heat, the base was built here in the midst of coolant on all sides. Indeed, the nearby sea's surface was roiling.
Bubbles rising from below made it look as if the water was boiling, even though the terraforming devices were keeping the water at a constant temperature.
"... A giant weapon at Baleum Spaceport hindered the advance of the fleet."
One of the pureblood supremacists replied defensively. It was true that the giant weapon posed a tremendous threat. But he also knew: their failure to eliminate the impurities wasn't solely due to the giant weapon.
They'd known, after all, that the giant weapon slumbered at Baleum Spaceport. The pureblood supremacists themselves had attacked the airport, and every development in the process had been reported to Cystus.
That was why they hadn't approached rashly. They'd intended to provoke mutual destruction by luring the impurities into the airport and awakening the giant weapon. They even knew that contamination was spreading inside the giant weapon.
No matter how advanced, unmanned weapons were particularly susceptible to corruption. The pureblood supremacists seized on this weakness, and their plan had nearly succeeded. But a single "line" had ruined everything.
Once again, the biggest factor in their defeat was the Purification Protocol. The moment it activated, everything had shifted suddenly and decisively.
In truth, the pureblood supremacists had been at ease. Knowing about the Protocol, they had taken various precautions against it.
They had scanned every satellite in orbit after learning that the surviving military base's soldiers were trying to overload the reactor. Leaving only the satellites necessary for the Titan blockade, they destroyed all the others.
They had thought they'd destroyed everything related to the Protocol in the process. Yet, the orbital gun had survived, forcing the pureblood supremacist fleet to retreat.
Cystus himself had seen through video the power of that black line. Not only had it pierced the giant weapon blocking the fleet's advance in one shot, it had then plowed up the earth itself.
The resulting shockwaves had spread everywhere, shattering the fleet's formation in an instant, even as they tried to hold out against the impurities' countermeasures and the berserk giant weapon's attacks.
The force to pierce through everything and even break the planet itself—the gravity cannon. That black line twisted space and drew in even the surrounding light.
Though Cystus was a member of the pureblood supremacist group, which had prepared for the grand plan of a hundred years, he'd never seen such power before. Should the Holy Tree they worship grow, it might—no, it surely would—unleash power even greater than that, but for now it was impossible.
If that force had targeted the rapidly growing tree instead of the giant weapon... Even bravado fell silent before such thoughts. It was luck, nothing less.
It was fortune that the orbital cannon had not targeted the tree, that it had fired without full energy charge, and that there were still more opportunities left, too.
'We still hold the control over the blockade network.'
Cystus tried to hold on to this thought and maintain his composure, but it was not easy. Events were bizarrely refusing to go his way.
"Whatever you say, it's just an excuse. The giant weapon blocked you? You brought enough force that you should have been able to break through, even if that thing tried to stop you. Am I wrong?"
"......"
None of the pureblood supremacists argued. They couldn't. After all, they'd brought along every ship stationed there.
The giant weapon aside, they'd also failed to eradicate the heretics as Cystus had stressed—so they had nothing to say.
"You're so lucky. Now you have an excuse that you failed because of the orbital cannon's attack."
"......"
"Those impurities are heretics. Refusing the grace bestowed by the holy tree was not enough for them—they are hostile! The very fact that they're still alive, that we're still trapped on this frozen moon—it makes no sense!"
As Cystus's emotions flared, a shimmering haze began rising around him. Black smoke, a symbol of death, slithered like a serpent to strangle the suffocating pureblood supremacists.
The black smoke, having devoured thousands of lives, drew a shuddering breath, and, with Cystus's low words, retreated as if disappointed.
"... Prove your worth. Otherwise, you cannot triumph over death."
"Yes, sir!"
"Do not mock His grace any longer by dragging along the likes of you. This is your last chance. There will be no next time. Kill the heretics, or vanish along with Titan. It's one or the other. Engrave that in your foolish heads!"
Despite the contempt dripping from his words, the pureblood supremacists bowed their heads lower still. Pride was not important to them. Only the proof of their qualifications mattered.
A new era had dawned, and their desire to be at its center was what drove them. As they recollected this, a strange hunger flashed through their eyes.
They wanted to receive grace and become bodies capable of miracles. Only then could they scorn death itself as mere dust, unlike other brothers who had imperfectly overcome it.
Each held different desires, but all aimed toward a single goal: proof of worth. For that proof, they would leap into fire if need be.
"Find the location of the Archive quickly. We must find it before the heretics do."
"Yes, sir!"
The pureblood supremacists scattered to speed up fleet repairs. Small survey ships that had been waiting at the outpost started ascending and fanning outward in every direction.
There was, as yet, no way to detect targets using invisibility mode. Instead, they tried to spread a net—a last-ditch substitute.
Just because something was unseen didn't mean it was absent. If a physical stimulus was applied, space itself would waver. These survey ships were to detect just such disturbances.
Just then, a new pureblood supremacist approached and made his report.
"Lord Cystus. When the giant weapon sank, a pod that could not be code-identified was detected firing from it."
"... From the giant weapon?"
"Yes, sir. Due to the orbital cannon's aftereffects, that sector is now inaccessible, so we're currently monitoring the situation with drones only."
Normally, reports like this wouldn't make it to Cystus. But tensions at the outpost were running so high that even the smallest details were being conveyed. At times like these, hiding anything could only complicate matters further.
Cystus scowled as he studied the photo the subordinate shared. There were outlined reasons for judging it not to be mere wreckage, but an actual pod.
Recalling that there were unmanned autonomous machines inside the giant weapon, Cystus assumed the pod was carrying one such machine.
"Search the area. And if possible—no, absolutely retrieve it. Wreckage or not, I will see it with my own eyes."
"Yes, sir!"
At his steely words that failure would not be tolerated, the pureblood supremacist's voice trembled as he replied, unable to hide his unease before hastening away to carry out the order.
Cystus swallowed his unrest, glaring into empty space as though his enemy were right there.
'Communication with our brothers in orbit is lost.'
Ever since the Purification Protocol had been triggered, the orbital cannon had fired, and communications had been severed with the fleet patrolling Titan orbit. He had first thought this only a temporary anomaly, but with no reconnection even now, he was certain something had gone wrong.
'Remnants of the Earth Fleet? Or has Myosotis, that rat in hiding, finally started moving?'
Either way, it shouldn't matter. It must not. While not many brothers remained in this sector, with the lines pushed all the way to Mars, each one was as good as the elite.
"...!"
Cystus suddenly flinched, startled by the surge of anxiety and restlessness he felt.
'... Once the weapon infused with the holy tree's power is complete...'
He would finally see this through. Cystus had realized he had to eradicate those heretics if he wanted to survive. The tree's wrath was overflowing from repeated failures.
Cystus clenched his teeth. The number of unpredictable variables was growing with each passing day—from Lobelia to Myosotis. Lobelia in particular was impossible to predict.
'Damn that creature...'
Just remembering how Lobelia had toyed with them made Cystus gnash his teeth. Most plans gone awry at critical moments were her fault.
She'd thwarted units searching for underground sector entry at the mining base Heaven, stolen the first bud, and caused hard-won forces to kill each other through mental intrusion—listing it all was endless.
Lobelia was believed to be using a bio-warp gate. Cystus could not comprehend it. The bio-warp gate required the grace of the holy tree.
That was a power even he could not touch—the holy tree had recognized his existence, but not yet embraced him.
'Surely not...'
He almost let an unholy suspicion get the better of him, but closed his eyes and calmed his roiling emotions. Cystus reminded himself: only they were the true ones.
A gust of wind blew in. Like other seas, it carried saltiness, but didn't smell of the typical ocean. There was a reason: Titan's sea hosted no life at all—not even plankton or seaweed.
Only the scent of empty ice. Cystus opened his eyes, frowning at the chill filling his lungs, and stared at the deep blue surface below.
The Kraken Sea outpost. Beneath it, giant roots stretched all the way to the sea floor, ominously writhing as they spread out across Titan's expanse, laying a foundation for growth.
And that was nearly complete now—unseen branches had already spread over the sky, soon to bloom a flower that would swallow the stars used as signposts.
***
Albatross storage bay, en route to the Mithrim Montes mountains.
The Beta Series robots were busily moving stockpiled resources back and forth. The automated pipeline, one of Albatross's functions, was operating without rest, replenishing supplies down to the last unit.
Robots with no concept of rest moved with clockwork precision, maximizing efficiency, while, in one corner of the storage bay, metal pillars were stacked up.
These control units were, in fact, devices that should have been installed around the base before the Purification Protocol was triggered. But the ECM chaff fog that had blanketed Baleum Spaceport had rendered them useless, and now they were just clutter.
After having poured so much time and resources into them only for them to instantly become obsolete, Kyle had figuratively wept blood. The only blessing was that they were not entirely useless.
A controller that manipulated energy flows could, with a little ingenuity, be put to several uses. He guessed that for the next relay installation, they'd bring at least one to compensate for power shortages.
"Nadia."
Nadia, who'd been absentmindedly staring at a control unit, snapped back at Kyle's voice from the side. She perked up her ears and turned around.
"Yes, Kyle?"
"I checked on the power loader. Honestly, I don't think it'll be able to sortie again anytime soon. It didn't matter if the cannon was damaged since it was just a prototype, but stress on the frame itself has accumulated way too much."
Kyle projected the scan results of the power loader into the air. Ironically, the external armor was relatively undamaged, but the frame—the skeleton—was lit up bright red.
"The exoskeleton-powered parts from Blue-Eye are a bit better off, but with an overall state like this..."
"Ah... There was no helping it. The fighting was just that fierce."
Nadia recalled the moment when the Remoras had charged in with laser lances lit. The high-temperature beams had touched the armor, sometimes piercing sensitive structural joints.
Laser lances, designed for focused output in frontal assaults. Kyle didn't experience their destructive power firsthand, but as he examined recovered equipment, he could see the threat.
"Honestly, it's a miracle the power loader came back at all. We'll finish replacing the cannon by tonight, add all the secondary gear and have it ready—but as for reinforcing the frame, I don't think we can do much more here. Only rest will reduce the accumulated stress now."
"I'll see what I can do about the power loader. There's no need to overexert it. You're already swamped, Kyle. I'll also think things through—oh!"
Nadia's eyes widened when she spotted something. She gestured and asked Kyle,
"Kyle, what's that?"
"Which—ah, you mean the mining robot? That's one of the leftovers from a batch we built during resource collection."
Kyle stepped aside, revealing what had been hidden. There, a peculiar-looking robot was inspecting scraps of metal, turning them in its claws.
It had several spindly legs, with small eyes—halfway between a spider and a crab. Kyle scratched his chin as he explained,
"It's an old model refitted for resource exploration, but it's actually quite handy. It's specialized for precision work. If you give the right orders, it can handle detailed repairs, even out in the field. The problem is, because it's somewhat autonomous, giving it commands isn't always straightforward."
"It doesn't follow orders?"
"Not exactly. It's...hmm...maybe it was a quirk of the original model, or maybe the Blue Crystal scrambled its circuits, but it's really scatterbrained. It just can't focus."
Kyle grumbled that quite a few robots had 'run away' because of this. Even reprogramming them hadn't helped.
Robots should unconditionally obey their operators. That was standard. But for mining robots—not even combat units—to be so unruly was certainly out of the ordinary.
He compared them to unruly children, implying it wasn't serious.
Of course, Nadia wasn't troubled either. She'd seen countless malfunctioning robots before.
"Can I use them?"
Her eyes sparkled at a new idea, like a child who'd found a new toy.
"Hmm? Go ahead. I wasn't planning to deploy them—they've already been replaced with ones that actually listen."
Kyle explained he had refocused the design towards maintenance and processing, rather than resource gathering. The repair drones they were using now were upgraded versions of these units.
"Those robots do have repair functions, but the current mainline ones are much better. What do you want them for, though? They're tough to handle if you're not patient."
"Don't worry about it. I'll keep them with me."
"... Keep them with you?"
Kyle realized she wasn't speaking figuratively when he saw her sketching out a design.
"This is... Huh, I suppose you could do that. Since you have your bio-circuits."
"Yep, I'll control them through the bio-circuit."
Direct control was always possible, but that would cut the robot's efficiency by more than half. There's a reason the word 'specialized' existed.
But for Nadia, this wasn't a problem. Her bio-circuit acted as a direct hub connecting to external devices. It wasn't a perfect bio-circuit, but it was more than good enough for this.
"In that case, why not just use the repair drones?"
"Carry's enough for that. If I need more, I'll just take some of them—the ones that behave, anyway."
Nadia touched near her tail, thoughtful about where to attach the robot arms. She was delighted at the prospect of helping Hyun-woo in a new way.
"Carry, you've got new friends."
「(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞」
But Carry didn't look pleased at all. The little robot, known for being jealous even of tiny sprouts, now looked ready to explode at the prospect of other robots joining the team.
Its support arm quivered, and, as if it absolutely could not tolerate this development, it fired up its thrusters and flew off, sparking an instant brawl.
「(╯°□°)ຈ҉̛༽̨҉҉ﾉ̨」
Carry, underestimating the spider robots, charged in, but they weren't pushovers. At first startled, they quickly assessed the situation and began to counterattack in concert.
Kyle chuckled at the squabbling robots, but then his expression soured at a message delivered by comms—something was wrong with the ship. He removed himself, saying not to bother him unless it was absolutely necessary.
As Kyle was walking away, Celestia approached. She positioned herself before Nadia, the robots still bickering nearby.
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New Names/Locations/Skills/Techniques introduced: