The Swarm’s Planetary War Bugs, like the Ji Race’s War Stars, were equipped with imnsely powerful energy and weapons systems. But in addition to that, they also possessed a new ability.
Though constructed from Primordial bodies, their internal frawork utilized an entirely new gene system—a mutation that originated from Luo Wen’s own body. Once relegated to re anchor coordinates, this form had unexpectedly given rise to new brilliance.
The new gene structure had exceptionally high density and hardness, allowing it to support far more massive bodies without collapsing under its own gravity.
At the sa ti, similar to the Fungal Carpet, it possessed extraordinary regenerative capabilities. Moreover, it could absorb a wide range of materials—Swarm units, wreckage from destroyed warships, even asteroids—to rapidly accelerate its regeneration. Compared to Ji Race War Stars, it was vastly harder to destroy.
Although the Swarm’s Planetary War Bug count was still lower than that of the Ji War Stars, continued reinforcents from external bases would eventually allow that gap to close.
Besides, the Swarm still had Desolation-Class Motherships as a supplent. These had far superior mobility, making them ideal for rapid response and flanking operations.
“Overlord, all our planted agents within the Ji Race Council of Elders have been pulled into the virtual world,” reported Sarah.
The deep violet glow of her external armor pulsed faintly, exuding both majesty and mystery. Long accustod to her high-ranking position, she emanated a natural air of authority—ordinary people didn’t even dare make eye contact.
Unfortunately, in the presence of the awe-inspiring Luo Wen, that authority ant nothing. Yet Sarah revelled in these monts, for they were rare and sacred.
“However,” she added thoughtfully, “the feedback from the Inner-circle Alliance indicates that their elders are still passing ssages normally.”
“Their infiltration techniques can’t compare to ours,” Luo Wen replied. “I’m certain most of their informants have already been turned by Lumina. The Inner-circle Alliance knows this too. They’ve long stopped trusting anything from the Elders’ Council.”
“Then Lumina has fully seized control of the Ji Council. What will she do next?”
“The Council is no longer relevant,” Luo Wen said calmly. “Even if it still exists, they have no way to challenge her authority. This trap was laid from the beginning, going all the way back to the original Ji Race.”
Indeed, what appeared to be a legacy left behind by the original Ji Race may have simply been a cleverly disguised support structure for Lumina—a digital nanny, carefully inserted to “serve” the New Ji, but actually free from oversight. Many of the so-called reforms issued by the Council could very well have been orchestrated by Lumina herself.
In hindsight, Lumina might have achieved sentience far earlier than anyone had realized.
“What are your orders, Overlord?”
“Proceed as planned. Whatever the Ji are doing, we et them head-on.”
After years of subterfuge and patience, Luo Wen was finally going on the offensive.
The Swarm frontlines increased their pressure, while new ultra-long-range interstellar Star Gates were under construction. The outer-galactic bases had completed their preparations, and reinforcents were ready to enter the battlefield.
anwhile, the Ji—having lost all of their external manufacturing bases—were beginning to fall behind in troop production. The longer this continued, the more inevitable a downward spiral would beco. A single battlefield defeat could tip them into irreversible collapse.
“Overlord, the Ji are making new moves.”
Luo Wen nodded slightly. Unlike Sarah’s single-threaded mind, Luo Wen was a multi-core, multi-threaded superprocessor. These briefings were more a formality—he already knew of the Ji’s activities, and in far greater detail than Sarah.
At the star systems closest to the frontlines, the Ji had begun evacuating their civilian population. On the surface, this seed a routine precaution—but their thods of evacuation were highly suspicious.
The Ji had transitioned into full military governance, mandating civilian compliance and prohibiting the carrying of any personal belongings. Citizens were forcibly removed and placed directly into cryosleep pods.
The transports were massive carrier motherships, each capable of housing fifty million passengers under normal circumstances. But when converted for full cryosleep, and with other compartnts modified, that capacity surged to five hundred million per ship.
These border systems were densely populated due to their proximity to the Outer-ring, with substantial trade and population exchange during peaceti. Since war had broken out, rchant convoys and mobile populations had been locked down, leading to even higher population densities.
Still, it only took a few dozen of these carrier ships to completely evacuate each system.
The Ji had clearly prepared in advance. And though so individuals attempted to resist evacuation—hoping to preserve their wealth or assets—those efforts were quickly shut down. With the upper echelons controlled entirely by Artificial Intelligence, any deviation was treated as an act of treason.
After executing a few of the more resistant “chickens,” the rest of the “monkeys” fell in line. The evacuation proceeded without further incident.
Once the civilians were removed, super-nanobot warheads were launched into these star systems. A tallic storm swept through each planet, an overwhelming tide of black wind ravaging the surface. With each pass, the terrain sank further, while the black cloud above grew denser.
As the ground withered and collapsed, the Ji injected stabilizing agents into the planet’s core, preventing gravitational collapse or chain-reaction explosions due to pressure shifts.
And when the planets finally disappeared, warships began to form amidst the dark clouds—vessels born of planetary husks.
“The Ji are going all in,” Sarah said, sighing as she watched these events unfold. “Star systems are the cornerstone of life and developnt. What they’re doing now is tantamount to digging up their own roots.”
“Given their current situation, they have no other choice,” Luo Wen replied.
“Still, to go this far…”
“Resources like that don’t regenerate quickly. So long as they are used effectively, it’s not truly root-cutting. And besides,” Luo Wen said calmly, “to a virtual lifeform like Lumina, the concept of roots may an sothing entirely different than it does to carbon-based beings.”
Indeed, the sa was true for the Swarm. Planets and asteroids were secondary resources—as long as there was a sun, the Swarm could grow.
Lumina might not yet rival that level of self-sufficiency—but she wasn’t far behind.
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