Weak Enough to Seem Fake

A group of Collectors lay anchored amid the ruins of a starport in the Sacred Wombang Nation. Debris, supplies, and corpses drifted everywhere. Thick armor had ruptured and twisted, while the grand steel behemoth had long since been torn to pieces by some unknown force.

Though the place was already a wasteland, filled with fast-moving fragments flying everywhere, it was actually a decent foothold for the Collectors, who possessed proton lattice bodies. The remains of the starport could be used as supplies to sustain their lives.

Their sensory organs remained locked on the direction of the Gate at all times, guarding against enemy fleets that might emerge from it.

"Aren't we setting out yet?"

One individual was growing impatient and asked its kin in confusion.

"Idiot. We're short on strategic resources right now. We have to wait for the swarm's logistics team."

"Especially antimatter. We used too much of it."

The questioning individual felt somewhat wronged. It simply did not understand why the swarm had to wait here.

"But our strategic resources are clearly still plentiful..."

"These remaining strategic resources are for handling emergencies. What if we expend all of them and the enemy counterattacks? What will we use to fight?" the swarm leader asked in return.

"Won't the New Empire's fleet replace us as the defensive force?"

The Collectors had advanced triumphantly all the way here. Under their surprise attacks, the garrison forces had been utterly unable to resist, often being wiped out in a single encounter. The enemy had never even caught sight of them.

When they had attacked the fleet Shuman served in, they had revealed themselves only to obtain more useful intelligence about the Sacred Wombang Nation.

Precisely because the enemy had seemed so weak, the Collectors felt there was no need to be so cautious.