Primitive Civilizations Were Too Insignificant

As a technician assigned by the Alliance to participate in the development of the "Spear" project, Naford's biggest daily task, aside from eating, drinking, and relieving himself, was checking whether all the wormhole generator's equipment was functioning properly before each test.

Today was no different. He remained dutifully at his assigned post, swiftly and concisely reporting on the facilities the command center asked about.

"Number Eight."

"Number Eight observation tower, normal," Naford said.

"Number Nine."

"Number Nine observation tower, normal," Naford said.

"Number Ten."

"Number Eighty-Three."

"Number Eighty-Three?"

The command center repeated its inquiry, but received no report from Naford.

A few minutes later, the command center accessed the ship's surveillance feed and saw Naford collapsed limply on the floor. His soft slime-like body looked like a half-melted scoop of ice cream.

Naford had already lost consciousness. No matter how the command center called to him, he did not respond.

The command center immediately sprang into action, summoning the nearest medical ship to Naford's coordinates.

"Attention, medical team! An issue has occurred on YUOAV Inspection Ship No. 1! Proceed to coordinates 3043, 8849, 1225 immediately! At once!"

The medical ship that received the order immediately headed for the coordinates. From a more distant perspective, however, it would become apparent that it was not the only medical ship racing toward its destination throughout the entire star system.

When Naford woke up, he was shocked to find that he was not aboard the inspection ship where he worked, but lying on a concave hospital bed specially designed for soft-bodied humanoids like him.

"You're awake?"

Following the voice, Naford saw a figure that surprised him.

"Supervisor Lace? What about the test? Hasn't it begun yet?"

Supervisor Lace said, "The test is entering its final stage."

Then Supervisor Lace asked with concern, "What about you, Naford? Do you feel any better?"

"I'm fine. I'll return to my post right away... Cough, cough, cough!"

Naford struggled to sit up, but with his already soft body weakened by severe illness, he could not even manage that basic movement. His forced attempts only brought on violent coughing.

Supervisor Lace watched Naford's repeated, futile struggles with great concern.

"Overwork dehydration syndrome. Your condition is very serious. You need to rest and recover properly," Supervisor Lace said.

Naford belonged to a soft-bodied species. Excessive labor would cause irreversible hydrolysis within their bodies, something comparable to cancer in humans.

In fact, it was worse than cancer. At least cancer had chemotherapy and a sliver of hope. Irreversible hydrolysis had no cure at all. In Naford's case, all he could do was wait for death.

Even knowing that he would certainly die, Naford did not give up on trying to rise from the hospital bed.

"I'm not the first. This little matter is nothing... Cough, cough, cough..."

"The longer we delay here, the more danger the Alliance faces. We can't stop!"

Lace sighed. "The Spear project has already reached its final finishing stage. Whether you work hard or not won't speed up its progress. Just focus on recovering."

"Enough familiar companions have already died. I don't want to end up without even someone I can chat with in private."

Only then did Naford relax. He watched his friend's departing back in silence for a long time. The pair of membranous wings on his friend's back, long withered from injury, somehow seemed a little broader to Naford.

After returning to the command center, Lace received a report from his subordinate.

"Report! Inspection complete! The 99,406th trial run can begin at any time!"

Lace nodded, then gave the order. "Begin as soon as possible. The Alliance does not have that much time to spare."

This was a solid planet orbiting a yellow dwarf star twice the mass of the Sun.

Fortunately, more than six million years ago, as the yellow dwarf expanded, this solid planet had entered its habitable temperature zone.

The land, once covered in thick snow and utterly lifeless, gradually melted beneath the star's light and became rivers, lakes, and seas.

Rain fell upon the land, and a dense atmosphere gradually formed in the sky, effectively retaining the star's warmth.

More than six million years passed in this way, and a flourishing world of life was born.

The land was filled with plants and animals entirely unlike Earth's lifeforms. They grew freely, leaving their traces across the entire planet—in mountains, beneath the seas, in deserts, and beyond.

Some species went completely extinct during those six million years, while others developed and formed an intelligent civilization.

Whenever the planet's annual torrential rains washed over the land, the small upright creatures hiding in caves would scurry out of their rocky shelters and head outside to clear land and plant crops.

They resembled rats, but unlike Earth's rats, they possessed three eyes, each with a cross-shaped pupil.

Among these diligent laborers, there were naturally some particularly clever individuals.

They deliberately laid traps for their own kind, deceiving them into transferring ownership of their crops through seemingly reasonable means.

For example, they would lure them into gambling, take the opportunity to issue usurious loans, or forcibly annex their holdings through plunder.

As time passed, the pyramid structure became increasingly rigid. Rulers, armies, capitalists, and the like gradually emerged, continuing until the next torrential rain arrived and reshuffled the entire pyramid.

Since the beginning of recorded history, this cycle had repeated for seventy thousand years. That was the historical cycle of this primitive civilization.

However, the cycle of these rat people would be broken today.

One rat person laboring tirelessly in the fields suddenly noticed the sunlight on the ground dim for an instant. The shadow cast on the earth twisted as well.

Almost instinctively, the rat person looked up at the sky.

He did not see the sun he knew. He saw only an unimaginably brilliant light filling the entire sky, a light so powerful and terrifying that it seemed to carry incomparable destructive force.

Then...

Then the rat people, along with their parent star, all died.

Under the violent explosion and the bombardment of ejected stellar matter, the entire planet became a lava world devoid of all life.

At the command center, 463 light-years away from the exploding star, Lace and the other experimenters did not feel even the slightest guilt over destroying a primitive civilization.

There was only the cold processing of information.

"How are all the instruments functioning?" Supervisor Lace asked icily.

"All instruments are functioning normally! No damage detected!"

Hearing this, Supervisor Lace nodded in satisfaction.

All instruments were functioning normally, and the target star 463 light-years away had exploded successfully. Everything pointed to one thing.

The wormhole strike design had finally been completed!

But before Lace could vent his delight, an urgent message shattered it completely.

A pop-up window appeared. On the other end was the chief commander of a fleet Lace knew.

The chief commander said seriously, "Supervisor Lace, I have bad news to inform you. A large number of Swarm creatures are preparing to invade the test site."

"The fleet will buy you time. Please evacuate as quickly as possible."