Tentacle Tree Civilization, Supreme Command.
The Supreme Command's conference room was a completely sealed spherical hall.
Projection screens were densely embedded in every direction, each one frantically streaming real-time data from different war zones. Red alarm lights rose and fell like countless wounds tearing through the darkness.
At the center of the hall, a three-dimensional star map dozens of meters across floated silently.
It was a holographic projection of the outer defensive line of the entire Home Planet system.
And at that moment, more than a third of the defensive nodes had gone completely dark.
The dark gray representing lost contact was constantly spreading along the edges of the star map.
A deathly oppressive atmosphere continued to spread.
Members of the highest leadership connected to the meeting one after another through the virtual network. Around the circular conference table, holographic projections lit up in succession. Whenever a tree-shaped lifeform appeared, the tentacles in its crown trembled faintly, displaying their anger.
Presiding over the meeting was the current Supreme Governor.
He had lived for far too long. His dark-brown bark was covered in cracks, while the tips of his tentacles carried an iron-gray metallic sheen. When his eight crystal eyes slowly swept across the room, even the air seemed to freeze.
"Report the current situation."
A deep vibration frequency spread outward, making even the edges of the conference table hum.
The intelligence chief stepped forward. With a tap of his tentacle against the star map, combat footage extracted from the black box of a surviving warship abruptly unfolded. In the dark universe, a black tide churned.
It did not resemble living creatures at all. It was more like a catastrophe engulfing the sea of stars.
Fleet artillery poured down in a frenzy. Hundreds of millions of energy beams tore through the