Colonial Suit

“Quantum code anomaly, receiving long-distance communication.”

“Reconnaissance fleet, enemy vanguard fleet detected. Fifth war zone, number... three hundred and twenty thousand. Main ship type, heavy armor shield type, artillery type!”

“Reconnaissance fleet, enemy harassing fleet detected, third, first, seventh war zones, number, three million two hundred and seventy thousand, main ship type, high-speed assault ship, stealth attack ship, small carrier!”

“Our vanguard is breaking formation! Deploying intercept formation!!”

“Estimated contact with the enemy in two hours. Main body of the reconnaissance fleet disengaging!”

“Reconnaissance fleet detected, flanks under attack by stealth enemies! Warning! Fleet under attack!!”

“Fifth Fleet, Twenty-first Squadron annihilated, no survivors, Seventh Team, Fifteenth Team being pursued, unable to shake them off!”

“Seventh Team, Fifteenth Team, all destroyed.”

Tense reports echoed through the channel, each listener clenching their fists. This was the thirty-seventh day since entering the sixth level of Naraka, and the human fleet was approaching the entrance to the seventh level. As the distance closed, enemy intelligence became more comprehensive, making a major battle unavoidable.

The number of enemies facing humanity—Boka, Sasa, and even the affiliated races of the two alliances—was beyond imagination, their fleet size capable of filling the starry sky. This was the hardware strength of the two camps and all their affiliated civilizations, its power suffocating. While the Human Alliance was not at a disadvantage in terms of numbers, there was a significant gap in quality. Whether it was technology or the crew's proficiency, they could not compare to these two long-established aristocratic powers. After the previous battles, everyone knew who the protagonist of the current universe was. A fleet lacking space warriors, no matter how large, was just cannon fodder. Even with Pandora's abilities, it was impossible to gain an advantage in such a high-end war.

Only a sufficient number of sufficiently strong space warriors could seek a glimmer of hope in this almost suffocating battlefield.

In Eden, the Speaker silently gazed into the distance, his expression extremely serious.

He sensed it, the calm before the great battle. He also sensed the end of life...

“Sal Jones,” he said in a deep voice, his tone calm.

“The following will be entrusted to you. When the great battle begins, I will be unable to control the fleet, and control of Eden will be transferred to you. I hope you make good use of it.”

“Yes, Speaker,” Sal Jones replied from behind him, his face slightly pale.

He was also a qualified space mercenary, but there was no place for him in this war. The plan had been determined long before departure. He would serve as the Speaker's replacement, presiding over the entire war's progress. If successful, he would become the next Speaker; if he failed, he must lead humanity away from despair. Perhaps, compared to simply dying in battle, the torment of waiting was even more agonizing.

His ears were filled with the information exchanged in the channel, the hoarse or anxious voices of the crew. What he saw was the Speaker's back. Once, this back was incredibly tall, like an insurmountable mountain giving him endless confidence. Now, it looked somewhat desolate.

Does even the Speaker lack confidence?

Sal Jones asked himself, then quickly shook his head, banishing the thought from his mind.

In the garden, leaves fell one by one. Through the huge French windows, he could see the fleet stretching forward beneath his feet, like a carpet covering the starry sky. Sal Jones suddenly felt his consciousness rising, as if about to leave his body and view the world from another angle, to view his civilization, his race, all his kind...

“I will do it,” he said softly, as if speaking to the Speaker, and as if speaking to himself.

The Speaker did not turn around, but his eyes flashed. Then he answered in a low voice, “I believe in you.”

He did not continue, because the first burst of fire had already erupted in the farthest reaches of space... the human vanguard fleet had engaged the enemy.

Millions of ships interacting and clashing in space must sound very dense, but in reality, that's not the case. The universe is too big. No matter how large human ships are, they are actually as small as ants. Therefore, the intensity of the battle of millions of ships can only be reflected locally. Countless beams of light crisscrossed and shot, like a storm.

In the forefront of the battlefield, a human fleet advanced silently, like silent rhinos. The ships were surrounded by enemy beams and missiles, explosions constantly occurring outside, but no one spoke inside, not even shouting. As the final war began, humanity showed absolute patience. Death was just a number, and even if comrades exploded beside them, they remained silent... and cold.

A crew member stood before the helm, a cigar in his mouth, his face twitching slightly.

He was not afraid, because even though the battle was happening outside the ship, the inside remained quiet and orderly. The shields trembled under the impact of energy beams, like rippling water. The crew member's face was also illuminated and darkened.

He took large puffs of his cigar, suppressing the anger in his heart. He was waiting... waiting for that voice...

“Vanguard fleet, heavy assault ships, charge!!”

An order suddenly cut through the fleet channel, and the crew member's eyes lit up, and he slammed the energy valve to the maximum. The cigar's tip burned down a large section in an instant. He yelled.

“Damn it! Charge in for me!”

“Press in!”

“Charge in!”

“Bastards, die!”

In an instant, countless roars echoed through the fleet channel, countless voices converging into one force, one will. All the heavy assault ships rushing forward had their afterburners roaring, their speed suddenly increasing to the extreme. What about accelerated aging of the combustion chamber, what about overloading the power engine, to hell with it all! This was the final journey!! This was...

The spear of ordinary people!!

Boom!!

Hundreds of beams of light suddenly converged, turning the heavy assault ship at the front into a fireball. But more heavy assault ships pierced out from its flames, pressing into the enemy ranks with a frenzied momentum. The shields and armor of the ship's bow were ablaze under the attack of energy beams, but they could not stop their advance. They were warriors born to charge, with steel bones and iron frames, heavy armor and thick shields, all for this moment of glory!

In an instant, the vanguard fleets of both sides collided, igniting the first flash of this war. That scene of countless ships charging, even after thousands of years, still lingered in human memory, inspiring generations of brave men to fight and conquer...

At that time, humanity had become one of the greatest civilizations in the universe, but everyone remembered the sight of them wielding scythes when they were ants.

Only the brave can be fearless!