Chapter 9

“Rey,” Ural said with a hint of distress, “I almost couldn't find you.”

Rey responded nonchalantly, showing no concern for Ural's mental well-being, and skeptically asked, “You didn’t disturb any insectoids here, did you?”

“No,” Ural replied with a proud smile, “They didn't see me at all. Oh, and look, I found some nutrient solution. It seems they were distributing it for free.”

Remembering Rey's dislike for disruptive, thieving behaviors, Ural had made an effort to restrain his impulse to scavenge for food.

Rey took one of the nutrient solutions, drank it leisurely, and continued to gaze into the distance, leaning on the railing of another small platform.

A gentle breeze carried a faint scent of smoke.

Ural quietly stayed by her side, stealthily touching a strand of Rey's hair fluttering in the wind.

His touch was as light as a dragonfly skimming water.

Rei couldn’t be bothered with his small movements.

The view stretched out to a field of steel ruins, immobile mechs, and a huge starship hovering in the distant sky.

“Rey, do you want that?” Ural followed her gaze, noticing she was fixated on the starship.

“It's fine,” Rey snapped back to reality, replying indifferently, “It would just make moving around a lot easier.”

She had been stranded on the abandoned planet initially due to the lack of transportation. Even with formidable biological strength, one lacks the unnatural ability of space-time traversal.

Ural seemed lost in thought.

"Where did you come from?" Rei suddenly asked. "Before we met."

"!" Ural was startled, thrilled that Rei showed interest in his existence! Overwhelmed by the unexpected joy, he answered dizzily, "I don’t know... but as soon as I opened my eyes, I came looking for Rei."

Rei was taken aback, not expecting this response.

And there was no scent of a lie. Rei thought oddly.

Without further inquiry, Rei opened her cyberbrain and found two messages sent four days ago.

Levi: Heard you left the camp? Hope to see you again.

Nolan: It was a pleasure meeting you.

Rei replied with a curt "Hmm" to both, very aloof.

She had come to the Daylight Zone frontline mainly to check on Levi's condition, but hadn't seen him yet.

Rei re-entered the star network to check messages, looking for the previous insect race educational thread, only to find it disappointingly deleted.

But discussions about the insect race's defeat had surged recently on the star network.

[They've gone mad with killing, I can't believe I'm alive to see this!]

[Never thought the Alliance had such a trick up their sleeve, when did they develop this in secret? I swear I'll never criticize them again.]

[Don't jinx it so soon, everyone knows the Alliance can always mess things up at the last minute.]

[What exactly happened to the insect race? They keep losing. Disclaimer: I've seen their strength, I'm traumatized, no offense.]

Most were meaningless reflections. Rei clicked on a hot topic titled, "What's the Situation with the Insect Race under the Decline Cycle? Insider Speaks."

The title was probably sensationalized to appeal to the masses, but the actual content was mostly dense, professional knowledge.

After a quick read, Rei found the human academic explanations complex, but the gist was that in the queen's prolonged absence, the queen-dependent insect race suffered both physically and mentally, with their strength significantly reduced during the cycle, and still trending downward.

Rei felt like an anomaly.

She had never experienced a so-called decline cycle, only suffering old, hidden injuries from overusing her powers.

On reflection, loyalty to the insect queen seemed ingrained in every insect's genetics. No need for learning or understanding; from birth, insects deeply knew their mission to protect, even if they were just one in billions.

But Rei, from her birth, never had this awareness. Even the existence of the "insect queen" was something she learned only after coming to R27 Star and using the cyberbrain.

Rei glanced at Ural, who was stickily watching her, seemingly sharing this trait.

Perhaps the insect race always had a few anomalies, nothing too strange.

Rei pulled her thoughts back to the present.

At this moment, she was unaware that her act of healing a male insect would soon create a massive upheaval.

A situation beyond control.

-

"So warm."

Having walked long in the cold, damp darkness, unaware of any means of salvation, driven only by an almost stubborn, insane faith.

Nathaniel was a rare extremist among the insect race.

From birth, the decline's scars had begun to spread on him, and his mental strength was more fragile. His kin believed he wouldn't live long, likely dying in youth.

But Nathaniel survived for a long time, with a brutal and cruel executioner's stance.

Countless arrogant humans, attempting to desecrate the supreme being of the insect race, died at his hands, topping the Alliance's most-wanted list.

The stronger the exterior, the more tense and fragile the interior.

At the last moment of being devoured by darkness, a flash of white light appeared. Nathaniel thought it was a dream before death.

Three hours later, Nathaniel awoke dazedly, staring at the white rose entwined around his arm.

"Impossible..." he murmured in disbelief, "The decline cycle is irreversible."

Nathaniel paused, suddenly struck by a thought like thunder, awakening all his will.

"He gently touched a rose petal, cautious not to disturb the treasure. The rose merely swayed slightly under the gentle touch, showing no other reaction."

“……”

"Nathaniel connected to the cybernetic network, attempting to establish contact with Groshia."

“Nathaniel? You disappeared suddenly, what happened?”

Nathaniel closed his eyes, unsure how to explain, and said, “Come and see for yourself. Bring some medics, preferably skilled ones.”

Inside a cold, white treatment room, a green-haired insect lay on a mechanical bed, surrounded by several sophisticated machines, with black screens displaying climbing and pulsating curves.

"Degradation level at thirty-one percent, all internal and external injuries have been healed."

"With the authorization of Commander Groshia, it's known that Nathaniel's previous degradation level had reached as high as ninety-three percent, usually fluctuating between eighty and ninety percent. This time, the degradation exceeded the critical threshold of ninety-five percent."

"After searching the archives and current status of all higher-class insectoids, the inquiry rate for those below second-class stands at forty-seven percent. No suspicious individuals have been identified."

"Groshia listened intently to the new reports, repeatedly checking all surveillance records of the defensive perimeter, but to no avail."

"The only thing was the image of Nathaniel suddenly entwined in strange white lines."

"Commander, do we need to report this to the main star?"

"Groshia paused, remaining silent for a long time before sighing, 'Actually, there’s no need for us to report. I suppose our extensive search has already alarmed Drian; five minutes ago, he took the initiative to send a troop here.'"

"Star R27, of a middling rank, would not normally receive any aid during special periods."

"Nathaniel has awakened," Groshia received the message from the autonomous healing chamber. "He wishes to speak with you."

"After a brief preparation, Groshia went to the destination with a solemn expression."

"There has never been a precedent for a reversal in the degradation cycle of the insectoids, especially in Nathaniel's extremely critical case."

"Had Nathaniel died on the rooftop, it would have been merely an additional task of handling a corpse, the loss of a highly capable high-class insectoid, without stirring any other ripples."

"It's often difficult for individual insectoids to harbor feelings of sorrow or remembrance towards each other."

"They only submit to the supreme existence."