Chapter 202 Aftermath. (2) Allied fleet.

Words : 1133 Updated : Oct 3rd, 2025

Here and there, small pockets of resistance could still be seen from desperate survivors aboard broken frigates and escape pods clinging to life, firing their last futile shots at the overwhelming enemy. But the sheer number of the Khryssari swarms, the relentless biomechanical horrors birthed by the Hive Minds, made resistance an exercise in futility. The swarms moved with terrifying coordination, overwhelming even the smallest pockets of survivors. Their smaller vessels darted like ravenous insects, while their larger, grotesque dreadnought-class organisms loomed ominously, tearing through what remained of the Allied fleet with horrifying efficiency. The survivor's cries for help and last-ditch efforts to fight back amounted to nothing. It was no longer a battle; it was a slow, inevitable slaughter. Farther out, the supercapital-class ships of the Hive Minds floated like monstrous gods, their organic-metallic hulls pulsing faintly with a sinister glow. These titanic vessels, forged in the unfathomable depths of the Hive's biomechanical forges, had utterly obliterated the Allied supercapitals in a battle that could only be described as one-sided carnage. The Allied fleet, despite its size and advanced technology, had been no match for the Hive's relentless onslaught. The Hive Mind's ability to adapt and overwhelm its enemies with sheer numbers and evolving tactics had turned the tide of the battle before it even began. It was not a question of if the Allied fleet would lose, but when. And now, at 6:55 a.m. on the Year 5608 of the Imperial Galactic System, that question had been answered. Inside the control chamber of the Hive Capital Organism, an eerie biomechanical room lit by pulsating veins of green and blue bioluminescence, a transmission echoed through the organic walls. <<The complete annihilation of the Allied fleet has been confirmed; there were no survivors.>> The voice was cold and emotionless, transmitted directly into the neural network of the subconscious mind. It wasn't spoken in words so much as it was felt; a thought passed from one node of the Hive to another, cascading across the collective consciousness like a ripple through still water. One of the Hive Mind's overseer organisms, a grotesque fusion of flesh, metal, and glowing neural tissue hovered within the chamber. Its multitude of eyes blinked in unison as it absorbed the report. It reached out with a biomechanical limb to interact with the pulsating control interface, sending confirmation signals back through the swarm's vast network. The overseer emitted a low, guttural hum, a soundless command picked up by the countless swarms still devouring the last remnants of the Allied fleet. "Aboard the remaining debris field," the survivors, those unlucky enough to have lived through the initial slaughter, were swiftly being hunted down. Escape pods drifted aimlessly, their distress beacons pinging futilely into the void. One by one, the Khryssari hunters latched onto them, their razor-sharp appendages tearing through the hulls with terrifying ease. Inside, terrified crew members screamed as the hunters ripped them apart, their final moments lost to the cold emptiness of space. Pax placed the cigar-like object to his lips and took a long, deliberate inhale, the jelly glowing faintly as he did. A minute later, he exhaled, releasing a cloud of iridescent smoke that lingered in the air, making his face tentacles shiver with pleasure. Satisfied, he reclined into his custom-made chair, its cushions adjusting perfectly to his form. His glowing eyes locked onto the servant. "Now," he began, his tone smooth yet cold, "tell me in detail what has occurred." The servant swallowed nervously, bowing his head as he summoned several holographic screens in midair. Each screen displayed reports, visuals, and sensor data from the Nexum facility in question. "Understood, Lord Pax," the servant began. "As I mentioned earlier, one of our facilities in the commercial world, designated Hanarix, was attacked a few days ago. We've since lost all communication with them. There's been no response to any of our attempts to re-establish contact." Pax lazily waved his hand as if swatting away a fly, scrolling through the holographic displays with apparent disinterest. The screens showed the aftermath of the battle, the ruined structures, burning debris, and extensive signs of combat. But Pax barely glanced at it. "I don't see the issue here," Pax said with his voice laced with disdain. "Send the defensive fleet in that sector to eliminate the offenders. That's why they exist, is it not? Don't waste my time with trivialities." His glowing eyes shifted to the servant, now burning with a faint but unmistakable killing intent. Pax's hatred for wasted time was legendary since he viewed it as the most unforgivable of offenses. The servant stammered, beads of sweat forming on his pale forehead. "O-of course not, my lord! There's more to it than that!" He bowed deeply, trembling as he continued. "The issue is... we've also lost contact with the defensive fleet in that sector." Pax's tentacles twitched in irritation, but the servant's words had caught his attention. His demeanor shifted from annoyance to curiosity while he leaned forward slightly, his glowing eyes narrowing. "Interesting. If I'm not mistaken, the Allied Fleet is stationed in that region as well. What's the status of their forces?" The servant hesitated, fumbling with his holo pad as he tried to find the relevant information. "We... we've received no communication from them either, my lord. All attempts to contact them have also failed. Their last report came in shortly before we lost contact with the region entirely." Pax frowned, with his interest now fully piqued. With a flick of his hand, he summoned a larger holographic screen in front of him and began pulling up live news feeds, scanning for any reports from the Hanarix sector. As the feeds loaded, his face darkened. There was nothing, no updates, no chatter, no signs of life from one of the busiest sectors under his control. "Show me their last report," Pax demanded, extending his hand impatiently. The servant quickly transferred the report to Pax's screen. A smaller holographic display appeared before the viceroy, detailing the Allied Fleet's final communication. The report began as a standard transmission, showing the commanding officer of the Allied Fleet standing aboard his flagship. The background noise suggested urgency but no immediate panic. "This is Admiral Voss of the Allied Fleet," the officer said, his tone brisk but composed. "We've encountered unexpected resistance in the Hanarix sector. Enemy forces are... unlike anything we've encountered before. Requesting reinforcements immediately." The transmission glitched briefly, and when it resumed, the tone of the broadcast had shifted drastically. Alarms blared in the background, and the admiral's face was pale with his composure slipping.

Chapter 202 Aftermath. (2) Allied fleet.

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