"Not at all." The blonde woman’s answer surprised Celestia.
"Indeed, currently, on this planet, only the chanical Cluster can still threaten us, but deploying the ’Arbitrators’ this ti is not to clear those already foolish and rigid chanical Clusters."
"Several months ago, the report you submitted made realize that it’s ti to deal with so matters concerning the Slami Association."
"Originally, this tifra was just about right; if not today, then actions would transpire within the next decade. But the accident during the ruins excavation you ntioned led and several Sky Court Masters to reach a consensus that it’s ti to address them."
"The treatnt you ntioned is?" Celestia thought of sothing but was uncertain.
"Exactly as you think—pour out the Petri dishes after the experints have finished and start anew." The blonde woman gazed at the firmant, as the majestic levitating giant whale slowly passed by, blocking the starlight in the sky.
"The developnt of the Slami Association has reached a critical point; from now on, they can launch rockets and satellites to perceive us, the creators above the clouds, which naturally cannot be allowed."
"This..." Celestia felt a pang of reluctance, as she had been to the earth and knew that those people on the ground were not just cold data but lives with distinct stories and emotions.
"But they still have many unknown stories waiting for to docunt and experience. Is it truly necessary to be so brutal, destroying everyone?" Celestia held onto a sliver of hope, wondering if a small portion could be saved.
"Yes, I understand your feelings very well." In my youth, I also went to the ground and forged good relationships with the people there, making great friends.
The blonde woman swayed her hair beside her ears, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes.
"But..." she sighed, looking into the distance.
"People probably do change; I no longer care about these things."
"They are good, they are innocent, but that cannot stop my pace."
"Neither you nor I can remain forever imrsed in this small tenderness, for this world is so vast and cold. Nor can I, due to this small nostalgia and heartache, forsake my duties as the Sky Court Master."
"Humans are actually very resilient, not as fragile as you think, and I have long erged from that state of loss."
"Many familiar faces are destined to accompany us through only a small segnt of life. As children, we might think this is everything, but as you grow older, experiencing more, you’ll realize it’s rely a mont in life, with many more people and things waiting ahead. You’ll also comprehend how essential duties and missions are, not to be asured and judged by personal little affections."
"Celestia, you are the genius of the Silver Bird Court, and I have practically watched you grow up. Barring any accidents, you will likely succeed in many years, leading this Sky Courtyard, becoming one of the few deciding the future of the Silver Wings species."
"Don’t underestimate yourself, nor confine yourself within small tenderness. Understand that your life is not solely yours; it also concerns many significant matters. Once you pick up the Scepter, you’re fated to be constrained by it—it’s expectation, responsibility, and your future mission."
"You won’t have to participate in this operation; just stand quietly aside and watch it unfold. If you truly disagree, then you’d better prepare comprehensive theories, supplented by strong power to convince everyone, rather than trying to resolve issues with childish tantrums."
"Now, follow ..."
Unknown planet, South Continent.
Black tides washed the shore, relentlessly breaking the foam that stained the sea breeze with a tinge of brackish moisture.
High towers by the shore remained bright in the night, their beams scanning the ocean, faintly outlining ships docked in the harbor.
As part of general education and gradually developing industrial civilization, people here in the Slami Association have shaken off the uncertainties of daily survival, with electric lights becoming widespread in households.
At night, in rooms illuminated by incandescent lights, a wife sat beside a sewing machine, tailoring new clothes for her child; her husband reclined at the table, holding hot tea, listening to soothing music and broadcasts from the radio.
"This is Slami Association’s Third Radio Station. Welco to tonight’s program, where I will explain the latest baby subsidy policy and welfare..."
The news on the radio prompted the wife to raise her head, slowly approaching her husband. At this mont, the husband took her hand, and they embraced for a mont.
"This child has been quite restless in the belly lately. I wonder whether it will be a boy or a girl. Amy is 7 years old now; if she knows there’s a brother or sister, she’ll definitely be very happy."
"Whether boy or girl, it will be our treasure." The husband held her hand, gently soothing; he knew that his wife had been sowhat anxious lately, worrying she might not be able to care for two children simultaneously.
"Don’t worry, not just us—Slami Association also awaits this child."
"We have already established a ho on this desolate wasteland; future generations will live peacefully on this land, no longer enduring the tempestuous lifestyle of the past."
"Yes, I trust you and believe in everyone from Slami Association." The wife slowly sat beside him, the two leaning on each other.
At high altitudes, a monstrous silhouette roared past in the cold wind. Below, their hatch opened, scattering massive warheads like seeds.
Seconds later, majestic orange-red flas shot skyward, with expanding shockwaves raising giant waves tens of ters high, spreading towards the distant black tide. anwhile, the lighthouse that was shrouded in darkness was snapped, tilting and collapsing into the pitch-black ocean water.
From north to south, from night to day, these giant levitating ’Arbitrators’ efficiently cleared every land they traversed, with high-temperature flas and shockwaves leveling anything in their path, be it fledgling cities, beautiful glass greenhouses, marble palaces, or smoke-billowing factories. Natural life and artificial creations alike faced destruction by these ’Arbitrators.’
They are the ssengers sounding the requiem of civilization’s end; they are the extinction orders from the Upper Species executed upon the lower ones; they are efficient tools for cleansing the world.
At Slami Association headquarters, heavy warplanes took off, their iron-gray wings expelling gases. High-speed rotating propellers propelled heavy weaponry into the clouds, reaching the world above layers of clouds.
The levitating giant ’Arbitrators,’ akin to floating whales, hovered in midair. As the cloud-rending warplanes appeared, the hatches on their backs opened, with swarms of drone fighters surging forth.
In the thousand-year-long war with the chanical Cluster, the Silver Wings species also learned efficiently to utilize these unmanned Autonomous Units in battles. These replicas possess combat prowess rivaling the chanical Cluster.
Imprinted with the gleaming Silver Wings insignia, the aircraft swooped like swallows, incredibly fast and agile, weaving through the hail of bullets from heavy warplanes. Then, their sharp silver wings dissected the warplanes’ outer hulls, propeller, wings, bodies—as clean and quick as surgical scalpels, disassembling these aerial units still rooted in the industrial era.
There wasn’t a chance of victory; no exhilarating battles unfolded—only one-sided crushing. To the bewildered eyes of nurous Slami Association mbers, these twirling Silver Wings sliced through fellow comrades’ bodies, letting their last hope fall, scattering like shimring silver fragnts upon the earth.
"Why!?" Seated in the smoke-spewing cockpit, the pilot exerted his last effort to pull the joysticks, but it made no difference; outside, the plane’s wing had been severed, and the engine burning within the leaking flas and smoke.
From the beginning to the end, they never saw the true figures commanding these levitating whales nor understood the truth behind this world.
Over the century, Slami Association had grown from a small group of fifty into a miracle unifying the South Continent. Their creations—architecture, records, history—vanished in rising flas. Virtually every city, every base, was wiped from the earth. After the destructive bombings and shockwaves, the few surviving mbers crawled from ruins and corners, witnessing the ominous Insect Swarm clouding the sky.
Over a thousand years ago, these swarms descended as biological weapons to cleanse the planet; a thousand years later, they continue executing the sa mission.
Change does not exist.
Reviews
All reviews (0)