CHAPTER 20: CH-20 AND WHAT’S IRONIC? BOTH HUMANS AND INSECTOIDS

The fleet itself had suffered too. Eighty ships lost: fifty of them Tier-5 class carriers, the core of their mech deployment force. The rest were T-3 frigates and crucial support vessels. Of the 320 surviving warships, most were in poor condition—shields nearly depleted, armor strained, crews exhausted.

And yet, the Hive Mind remained far out of reach.

Reinforcements were en route—but still over an hour away.

From the look of it, they wouldn’t survive another thirty minutes.

Not like this.

Not at this pace.

And certainly not without a miracle.

Meanwhile, thirty minutes earlier...

Not far from the chaotic battlefield, in the cold void just beyond sensor range, a sleek vessel glided through hyperspace—The Ragnarok.

Within its humming interior, the atmosphere was tense, yet controlled. After half an hour of travel from the desolate star system, they were finally nearing their destination.

Ascendancy stood at the front of the bridge, her gaze locked on the growing ripple ahead. She turned slightly toward the two figures behind her—Elsa, sharp-eyed and smiling faintly, and William, calm as ever, arms crossed.

"Master," Ascendancy said, voice clear and steady, "we are about to re-enter realspace in thirty seconds."

William gave a slight nod, but Elsa leaned forward just a beat ahead of him, already issuing the command he was about to speak.

"Ascendancy, make sure we emerge just outside the battlespace. Activate stealth protocols immediately. No need to alert the swarm of our arrival—right, Will?" she asked, a teasing smirk on her lips.

William arched a brow, smiling despite himself. "You and your games, Elsa."

Then, turning to Ascendancy, he added, "Do as she says."

"Yes, Master," the AI confirmed, her fingers dancing across the virtual control interface. A soft hum followed as the Ragnarok adjusted its course and began initiating stealth phase protocols.

A digital countdown appeared above the navigation array.

"Exiting hyperspace in: 10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1..."

With a seamless ripple, space folded inward.

A portal bloomed open like a silent wound in the stars.

The Ragnarok slipped through—undetected, silent, invisible.

As the Ragnarok stabilized after re-entering realspace, its hull vibrated softly—like a predator exhaling after a long hunt. The shimmering distortion around the ship faded, leaving it invisible but fully present, a phantom just beyond the battlefield’s edge.

The battlefield stretched before them like a burning tapestry—wreckage, energy discharges, distant flares of exploding ships.

From the command deck, William narrowed his eyes.

The moment the stealth systems confirmed stability, the long-range quantum viewers activated—bringing the distant battle into sharp, high-resolution clarity.

And what he saw made his heart still for a beat.

The space beyond was drenched in ruin. Debris fields drifted like jagged clouds—broken hulls, shattered frigates, and flickering husks of what were once proud warships. Amid the wreckage danced dozens of humanoid figures—mechas. But not just any mechas.

William’s eyes focused, gaze sharpening.

These weren’t mass-produced frames. These were different, all were different—sleek, pulsing with energy, each one moving with an unnatural fluidity. And then he saw it.

A faint glow.

A Domains.

The mecha pilots weren’t just using technology—they were using willpower as a conduit. As fuel. As the very source of their transcendence.

A second later, Elsa leaned in beside him, equally stunned for a breath.

Then she smirked.

"Well, well... would you look at that?" she said with a voice like velvet wrapped in mischief.

She gave William a playful nudge, bumping her shoulder into his.

William blinked, snapped from his trance. His brow twitched. "Ugh..." he muttered, already knowing she was about to run wild with thoughts he didn’t yet have the energy to entertain. What is she cooking up in that head of hers now?

But Elsa didn’t miss a beat. Her eyes gleamed as she pointed toward the screen.

"Look closely, Will. Those mechas—those pilots—what they’re doing... it’s incredible. They’re channeling pure willpower, pushing beyond the mortal threshold. That’s just the foundation and even basics. Somehow, they’ve molded it into something far greater."

"And those two over there... they’re not just using willpower."

She zoomed in, highlighting the twin aces.

"They’ve unfolded quasi-domains. Their presence stretches nearly twenty-five kilometers in all directions. Just enough to suppress a part of the battlefield. And the resonance... you feel it, right?"

She leaned back, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

"My, my... This just got very interesting."

Just as William was about to respond to Elsa’s teasing remark, he paused, searching for the right words. And then—as if the universe itself had intervened to spare him (or so he liked to believe)—Ascendancy spoke up, her voice smooth and mechanical, yet laced with subtle personality:

"System integrity check complete. No anomalies detected. All core functions stable. Master, we have exited hyperspace and are operating under full stealth protocols."

William exhaled in relief and nodded. "Good."

Elsa crossed one leg over the other with a knowing smirk but said nothing.

William continued, "Ascendancy, begin a full-spectrum scan of the star system—prioritize both human ships and those... unknowns. Identify structure, strength, and energy signatures. And make sure we remain completely undetected during the process."

"Understood, Master," Ascendancy replied.

Without delay, a quiet pulse of quantum signals rippled outward—subtle, cloaked, and utterly undetectable by conventional technology. Even the warring fleets, locked in brutal conflict just beyond the system’s edge, had no hope of perceiving it. The tech of the Ragnarok, born of transcendent engineering, rendered them all effectively blind to its presence.

Minutes passed.

Then—one by one—holographic displays came to life across the command deck. Data streams flowed like rivers of light across the chamber, forming complex matrices and battlefield overlays. Every ship, every fighter, every formation was mapped in intricate detail.

At the head of the room, Ascendancy stood calmly before William and Elsa, who sat in their throne-like command seats. The central display flickered to life, showing both the Human Fleet

and the unknown alien species in high resolution.

William leaned forward slightly, brows drawn together in focus.

But what truly drew the attention of William, Elsa, and even Ascendancy wasn’t just the chaos of the battlefield. It was the data—the raw, terrifying profile of the unknown species they had scanned.

Ascendancy’s usually emotionless voice carried a rare note of tension.

"...They’re insectoids," she muttered, almost in disbelief.

Elsa turned toward William, her expression unreadable but her voice sharp with realization. "Looks like it."

William, watching her carefully, caught the subtle hint—she wanted his thoughts. He exhaled through his nose and leaned back slightly. "Their influence... it’s spreading. Again."

Then Ascendancy’s commented again, her voice low but thoughtful,"Master... don’t they look a bit different from the species that once infested the Nine Heavens of the Daemon Plane? Even the ones that are found around in the Ascendant Cultivation Realms of the Cultivation Dimension?"

Elsa, surprised by the remark, glanced at the holographic feed. She narrowed her eyes and zoomed in on the mothership of the insectoid race.She muttered, almost to herself,"It does appear to be different... not from the outside, but from the inside."

William leaned forward slightly, his brows drawn together in deep focus as he sifted through the same data stream.He muttered under his breath, "Yes... indeed. It’s as if they’ve specially adapted—evolved—to suit this environment."His eyes flicked across the readings, his voice growing steadier."They’ve computationally restructured themselves—tuned to this space, which is heavily saturated with technological resonance. They’ve practically transformed into biomechanical, living technological insects."

Elsa nodded grimly. "Right.

And she continued, "Though they are not unbeatable, not for a truly powerful universe or higher lifeforms. But for unprepared civilizations? They’re poison. A slow death."

William narrowed his eyes. "Left unchecked, they become a cancer. And from what we just hacked from the human fleet’s data systems... this race has been appearing far too often in this galaxy."

Elsa’s voice dropped, laced with warning. "And yet... no one seems to consider them a major threat."

William’s gaze hardened. "That’s the real danger. Normalizing their presence. Forgetting what they truly are."

Ascendancy added without prompt, "To be fair, Master... the data shows that humanity has been managing to eliminate thousands of insectoid motherships. Their combat efficiency is high, even if their understanding of the enemy is limited."

William gave a dry scoff, then muttered, "Now that you mention it, Ascendancy..."

He leaned forward, his tone calm but laced with gravity.

"True—but that’s just for now. Eventually, humanity—and the other races—will come to realize what others before them already did: unless they destroy the true Hive Mind at the core of this species, none of it will matter. It won’t matter if they eliminate ten thousand or even a million hive fleets... the central consciousness will continue to grow. Because this species doesn’t just multiply—they adapt, evolve, and spread like wildfire."

He paused, and continued. "And what’s ironic? Both humans and insectoids are seen as invaders by this universe. The only real difference? The insectoids came from outside this universe... and humans from the Milky Way Galaxy within it."