Du Zhaodi's expression quickly turned serious.
The space-time storm had arrived far sooner than she had expected.
One second, it had still been countless light-years away; the next, it had appeared all around her.
It was as though it moved by time rather than distance.
Around the coordinates of the entire civilization, space itself had been torn into flocculent shreds, like a massive silk cloth ripped apart by a mischievous child. In the folds were twisted stellar remnants and afterimages of time; light was trapped there, unable to escape, and could only refract frantically between the shattered dimensions like dying fireflies, forming a sickly, bizarre aurora.
The Nomad civilization's transformation had reached its critical moment, and the entire starfield had been gilded in gold.
Within the golden light, countless planets were being transformed into void nodes and embedded into the stargate.
If this process were disrupted, the transfer would take far longer.
Before this space-time storm, which had torn even light and time into shredded fragments, a completely different "existence" stood firm.
It was not a unified fortress, but a living giant machine assembled from one hundred ultimate trump cards of civilization.
It had no fixed form, resembling more a coordinated array that was constantly undergoing ultra-high-speed transformations.
Each "trump card" was an ultimate miracle forged by a civilization on the brink of life and death. At this moment, they were like symbiotic organs, using mechanical precision to resist the universe's madness under a unified will.
The Singularity Boiler (Civilization No. 18's Trump Card) was like a heart of steel. It fed captured fragments of space-time into miniature artificial black holes, extracting pure energy capable of shaking the laws of reality.
The Reality Anchor (Civilization No. 31's Trump Card) was not a wall, but tens of thousands of enormous diamond-shaped