๐๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐๐๐: ๐๐จ ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ข๐ง๐๐ฌ๐ฌ (1)
Reminiscent of umbilical cords, the tendrils of multitudinous lifeforms trailed behind like the tails of arthropods, while horn-like pipes protruded from their rears.
In their entirety, they resembled fetuses absent of faces, destined to eternally journey through the interstellar void and beyond the Local Group.
Hundreds of Voyagers warped past the gravitational distortion of their surroundings, accelerating faster than the speed of light. Blinking in and out of existence, the Voyagers vanished into the shadows of the dark nebulae as if teleporting.
As they ventured further into the boundless emptiness, they periodically transmitted simple information back to their collective consciousness.
Furthermore, the Voyagers, with their amalgamated appearance of humans and the Chimeraz, symbolized the harmony between the New Universe Civilization Union and the Hive Alliance. In this form, the Voyagers were destined to encounter something in the distant future.
It was uncertain whether these external entities, whom they would encounter in the future, would be amicable travelers or invasive beings seeking to devour their world.
Hence, Kreion took this measure to find peace of mind, ensuring that he would be prepared for any eventuality by learning about these external beings who might someday visit their world.
“Now. . .there shall be peace for a very long time.”
As Kreion gazed at the departing Voyagers, Anima studied his profile.
She realized that this was the first time she had seen him wear such a relaxed expression.
“Oh, by the way, the Lomro-or, has been replaced by the the Transcendent Machine Race as the dominant species in the Triangulum Galaxy.”
“The Reptured?”
“Yes. Gorgo informed me that they are now the official ruling species of the Triangulum Galaxy. Within 12 hours, this news will be disseminated throughout the Human Galaxy.”
The Chimeraz’s advanced wave network enabled them to receive news from across the Local Group at an accelerated rate.
“However, there is one thing that bothers me.”
“What is it?”
“The Reptured had allied themselves with the New Universe Civilization Union. We thought they would join the Hive Alliance after we convinced them, but. . .”
“Even after learning the truth behind the Vehlpciaarct and the Chimeraz, the fact remains that we have grown exceedingly powerful. Therefore, they must have concluded that aligning with humans is more stable than aligning with the Chimeraz.”
“It’s a shame. They were the second most powerful Transcendent Machine Race after the Vehlpciaarct. If this happens, other technologically advanced species may follow the Reptured and join the New Universe Civilization Union.”
“The backbone of the New Universe Civilization Union is humanity, and the head of all humanity is ultimately him. So, there won’t be a problem.”
Peace had been established in the Local Group.
The Chimeraz had become the protagonists of peace.
Measures had been taken to address the threat of external forces from the distant future that Lopez warned them about (or perhaps worried excessively about).
Of course, internal threats would inevitably arise in the future. However, the crucial factor was that the New Universe Civilization Union and the Hive Alliance were so formidable, and with the powerful Believer faction advocating for peace, internal control was absolutely guaranteed.
As long as the Believers did not suddenly turn into warmongers or Lopez, in a fit of madness, declared war on the Hive Alliance, all internal situations could be handled.
“What if the collective consciousness species under our control grow weary of peace and run amok?”
“They will be eliminated. Such genes cannot survive natural selection.”
“What if a force more powerful than the combined strength of the New Universe Civilization Union and the Hive Alliance attacks us?”
“The Believers will not stand idly by.”
“Hmm. . .what if Lopez, who holds the reins of the New Universe Civilization Union, is suddenly assassinated?”
“Another Lopez will emerge.”
“What if you are assassinated?”
“You will take my place.”
“What if I die with you?”
“Ludwig will take over.”
“If Ludwig also dies. . .”
“Nazar will take over.”
This predicament, this situation, this world that has become this way.
Today, he had meticulously perfected even the tiniest details from beginning to end.
Kreion had finished everything perfectly.
If she were to ask Kreion about any unfavorable situation right now, he would come up with a countermeasure for every situation in less than a second.
Because she knew that better than anyone, he was fine now.
“. . . It’s perfect.”
The formless hell that enveloped the two beings was truly everything that came before.
Any race, any power, any situation, any day, any future day. All of these elements surrounded and oppressed them, causing anxiety, under the name of the world.
They had lived to survive.
There was no life of happiness.
They knew how to survive, but finding happiness seemed like a distant tale. Or perhaps they harbored it in their hearts, but bringing it forth would be like drinking poison.
“We encompass the world.”
The Voyagers had all departed.
Before he knew it, Kreion was looking at Anima.
“The old hell burned in war. If there is hell somewhere, we will control the new hell.”
Now, drinking what was in their hearts would no longer be poisonous.
Today, having found a value beyond survival, it was natural and rightful for beings with hearts to pursue happiness.
Some would feel an overwhelming sense of excitement.
Some would postpone living.
Some would be picturing a moment in their dreams.
Before they forgot how to find it, before they trapped themselves in new shackles by suppressing, delaying, ignoring, and burying it,
Kreion spoke. He declared to himself and to her.
“It is now permissible to be happy.”
๐ท๐ท๐ท
In the known nations of the Human Galaxy, humans were not the only inhabitants.
Countless star systems, known only by numbers, far outnumbered the entire human population. As a result, it was common practice for corporations, organizations, and unofficial groups to pursue profit in areas not owned by nations.
Areas outside of national control were lawless territories without public authority. Since these areas were often at the mercy of space pirates or ruthless mercenaries, it was common for people to hire private military contractors or contract mercenary groups to protect their human and material assets.
Anima Selas.
She was born on a cold mining planet in a developing star system. On that planet, many people lived without knowing the year according to the solar calendar or what the date was.
The average temperature was minus 22 degrees Celsius. The majority of the inhabitants of the mining planet, covered in ice and snow, were laborers extracting minerals from the harsh environment.
Unable to afford decent modern clothes, the laborers, clad in layers of worn-out garments, protested incessantly.
ใWe want to return to civilization!ใ
Facing strong winds and snow, they held up crude wooden signs instead of monitors or holograms and shouted.
“Reduce the fee for using the spaceship!”
“Reduce it! Reduce it!”
Mining refineries, simple automated factories, a small landing field, and infrastructure to support a town of 10,000 people.
Those were the only buildings owned by the corporation that controlled this remote planet. Therefore, the protesters usually gathered in the open space in front of the main gate of the landing field.
And the ones confronting the laborers were not humans.
“Disperse. There will be no change in the established spaceship usage fee.”
They were humanoids with slightly peeling white paint, revealing traces of their age.
“Damn robot bastards! Call your manager or supervisor!”
“This is wrong! Why do we do the labor while machines do all the management jobs?!”
“Your mine requires a delicate mining process using two hands and tools. This is the 1775th time we have explained this.”
“At the very least, give us new equipment! Or send in new-model humanoids capable of performing that damn delicate mining!”
“We have insufficient budget.”
“Oh, come on! You’re taking all the money left over after selling the minerals and you’re telling us that?!”
Such was the structure of work on this isolated planet.
The laborers received barely enough wages to survive and were sent to the mines or assigned to outdated facilities where manpower was needed.
Old-model humanoids, of unknown age, controlled and managed the landing field, various facilities, and the laborers.
Additionally, all the necessities and goods required for human survival were sold at exorbitant prices by the corporation on this planet.
To leave this place, one had to board a spaceship provided by the corporation, but the spaceship fares were prohibitively expensive.
The laborers could not save money, so they could not use the spaceships. To save money, they had to spend on necessities. Therefore, they had to work today and tomorrow as well.
The corporation had no intention of lowering the spaceship fares or improving the harsh working conditions, let alone sending new-model humanoids or replacing the equipment.
It was not that they were stingy about spending a little money. It was clear that they intended to exploit the laborers until the planet’s mines were exhausted.
Literally, it was a blatant vicious cycle. It was a system of exploiting human slaves with machines and systems that did not require labor costs.
Even in such an environment, there were miracles of new life being born.
Anima Selas was born and raised in a poor but harmonious laborer’s family.
“Waaah!”
“It’s a girl. . .! What a pretty little girl!”
Upon birth, one should be blessed and grow up in an environment filled with love.
On her mother’s side, her family had unusually pale skin. Her mother was a woman with black hair and black eyes.
“Why is her skin so pale? She’s already 4 months old, but her complexion hasn’t changed.”
“I guess she takes after her father and has poor blood circulation.”
Anima opened her eyes a week after birth.
They were red.
“Shouldn’t we take her to the hospital?”
“Hospital fees aren’t cheap. . .but we should probably go.”
However, the hospital in the corporation’s outdated facility could not find anything wrong with her.
The old-model humanoid doctor diagnosed it as an unexplained genetic disease caused by the planet’s indigenous viruses, bacteria, radiation, or a special environment.
Anima’s hair, initially black like her mother’s, gradually turned into lusterless white hair after repeated cycles of falling out and growing back.
“Vampire! Run away!”
Children, being immature, say and do whatever they want. There are always children who do so, no matter how much their parents tell them not to.
Among such children, those with unusual appearances were destined to be ostracized.
The pure children were all humans with pure evil, and even as children, they were social animals who wanted to prove their strength against a common enemy (who was easy to prey on), just like in a primitive society.
Furthermore, that was the young society that Anima experienced.
“. . .”
There were few children her age on the harsh planet. Therefore, making friends her age was also extremely difficult. She had been ostracized once at a young age, before she even knew how to make friends properly, and that ostracism continued for a long time.
“Thwack!”
“Die, vampire!”
. . . Thud!
How many times had she been hit by snowballs while standing still?
. . . Whack!
How many drops of pure blood had she shed from the mischievous (cruel) pranks (bullying) of throwing snowballs (stones)?
Anima learned to avoid people before she learned how to approach them.
For Anima, those who approached her first only wanted to tease or bully her. At best, the kind children would look at her appearance with curiosity from a distance.
Anima was pretty but strange. The boys saw Anima as prey, and the girls saw Anima as an object of caution.
This continued even when Anima reached the age to attend school. Of course, there was no such thing as a school on a poor planet.
Anima did not shed tears, perhaps because she did not know if it was sad or pitiful. It was the beginning and the end of her childhood, a nightmare wrapped in memories.
As they grew up, the children learned and experienced society outside in the snowy environment. Meanwhile, Anima learned about the outside world through the window of her home, where she felt safe.
A small room where she could not even lie down.
The sound of melting snow during the day was like noise and was unpleasant. When the noise from outside came through the thin walls, she would cover her ears and pull at her hair.
As the shadows fell under her eyes and she could not remember the last time she laughed out loud, her parents would occasionally come and ask her why she was so distressed.
She could not bring herself to tell them that she was distressed because of everything around her.
She could not tell them that she hated the isolated room, the frightening outside, all the unwanted noises, all the memories from birth, and this environment itself.
Because telling them would not change the situation for her or her parents. She thought it would be better to suffer alone than to say something that would only cause pain and distress, so when everyone was asleep, she buried her face in what seemed like a pillow. Then, they would be somewhat harmonious.
In this way, she repeated the days of quietly crying as if she were secretly throwing away the garbage in her heart.
She was 7 years old then.
When she was 7 years old, her father returned from the mine with four fingers missing from his right hand.
Then she was 8 years old.
Her father, who was resting at home, yelled at her mother for the first time when she returned from work.
Then she was 9 years old.
Her father hit her mother for the first time. It was difficult at first, but it became easier after that. It was not bullying that ended with a few drops of blood.
Then she was 11 years old.
One morning, her father, who was eating soup, suddenly grabbed his neck and struggled to breathe. Her mother covered Anima’s eyes.
Her father died of poisoning. His eyes were bloodshot at the time.
Then she was 12 years old.
Knowing that there was a problem but not knowing what it was, she simply thought that she was the problem. Thinking back to when her life had gone wrong and awry, she felt that she could only come up with weak excuses. In fact, she would sometimes whip herself or brainwash herself into thinking that it was not ruined or wrong. That’s how she endured life.
She wanted to buy any electronic device with a screen and read anything, but she did not have the money to buy such things. So, she just kept reading the damp books lying around the house over and over again.
It was then that she realized she had a good memory.
She could remember every word of a book she had read once, without making a single mistake. So, she told her mother that she thought she had found a talent, but
“How much do you think you can earn with that. . .?”
13 years old.
She tried to get a job, but she was too weak to even run simple errands at the workplace.
Her mother took one item from the house every day and came back with hard bread. The books she had been reading were also gone.
“Do you think I wanted to give birth to you like this? Do you think I’m here because I want to be here?!”
Her mother yelled at her for the first time.
“You. . .! If you had been a little more normal, this wouldn’t have happened! I didn’t become your mother because I wanted to be a mother!”
She yelled at her for the first time. She yelled at her while saying things she did not understand.
And she hit her for the first time.
Her body was weak, so it broke easily and bled easily.
When her body was healed, she was given something to do, and if she did not do it properly, her mother yelled at her and hit her again.
Her body trembled. Her molars fell out too easily. The room was cold, and the hard bread had no taste. She vomited every time she ate, and when she vomited, her mother hit her again for not finishing her food.
For a year, she struggled between life and death and came to realize something.
14 years old.
One morning, her mother, who was eating soup, suddenly grabbed her neck and struggled to breathe.
At that time, something like a haze was blocking her vision, but it was clear that her mother was very angry.
“I’m. . .going to. . .rip. . .it. . .out. . .!”
Fortunately, her mother’s breath gave out before her cursed fingers reached her eyeballs.
15 years old.
It was a snowy day.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Thud!
That day, the entire village was bombed by something.
She thought she was going to die when a loud noise exploded overhead.
She passed out and woke up to find her house collapsed. Looking up through the pile of snow that had replaced the ceiling, she saw ruins covered in snow in all directions.
“Waaah. . . .”
She burst into tears, simultaneously feeling the joy of survival and the sadness of survival.
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