The Commander's gaze turned grave as he watched the distant scene.
Because he knew that if even a Standard Anti-Matter Galaxy Bomb could not blast through that formation—
Then this expedition would most likely have to end with a whimper after starting with such a roar.
It was not as though there were no more powerful weapons to try.
But those weapons were simply far too dangerous, their consequences extremely difficult to gauge.
One careless mistake—
Could create a truly massive problem.
For example, wiping out some innocent civilizations, or causing some kind of interstellar-scale disaster that implicated numerous factions and led to accountability being demanded from every side.
Therefore—
Even he could not deploy those weapons lightly.
As for his superiors, although they had the authority to use those weapons and he could submit an application—
Whether that would actually be worth it was an entirely new question...
After causing such a huge commotion, even if they seized the territory, there would probably be little of use left. Moreover, afterward, various factions would likely intervene under different pretexts and forcibly take a slice of the pie.
A cup for you, a cup for me.
In the end, all their work would have been for nothing...
Thinking of those possibilities, the Commander felt somewhat helpless as well.
His gaze toward the distance carried, more or less, the air of someone staring until his eyes ached.
He eagerly hoped that things would take a turn for the better...
However—
His hopes were ultimately misplaced.
What he received was a deeply disappointing result.
Under the attack of the Standard Anti-Matter Galaxy Bomb, the distant Solar System looked like a mass of distorted radiance, frantically changing shape—round one moment, square the next. Yet its overall form remained intact throughout, showing no signs of