229: Homeland Crisis and the Reversal of the "King's Return"

After the miracle of Void creation and a long, cautious voyage, the ‘Morning Star’, bearing its still unhealed wounds, the exhaustion of surviving a catastrophe, and a deep longing for home, finally arrived at the outer warning zone of the ‘Homeland’ colony. The atmosphere on board was relaxed and full of anticipation; everyone was eager to set foot on solid ground, report their achievements, see their loved ones and companions, and feel that long-lost sense of stability.

However, when the spaceship's sensors penetrated the last layer of interstellar medium, displaying the panoramic view of the ‘Homeland’ star system on the main screen, all anticipation and joy froze instantly, turning into a chilling cold and heart-wrenching pain.

What appeared on the screen was not the well-ordered, brightly lit, prosperous home they remembered, but a burning inferno!

The massive orbital shipyard, originally intended for constructing the ‘Ark’—a magnificent project that embodied the countless efforts and hopes of ‘Homeland’ and symbolized the future of their civilization—was now engulfed in dense artillery fire! Countless explosions erupted continuously on its kilometers-long steel framework, with thick smoke and debris silently spreading in the vacuum like blood mist spewed from a dying behemoth. Multiple sections of the shipyard’s main body were torn open, exposing internal modules to deadly cosmic rays and bombardment. Flashes of secondary explosions occasionally lit up from within, signifying the destruction of critical workshops or storage compartments. The nascent ‘Ark’ keel, vulnerable as an infant, was exposed to the violent assault, with a section of its tail structure already twisted and deformed, flickering with ominous arcs.

The attackers were none other than the Foundation’s ‘Shadow Fleet’, that persistent, parasitic force that had ambushed them outside the ‘Shattered Ring’! The colossal ‘Abyss’-class command ship, like a sinister spider king, sat at the rear, coldly orchestrating six ‘Shadow Assassin’-class high-speed battleships, along with a larger number of smaller assault craft and drones, all swarming and tearing at ‘Homeland’s’ defenses like a pack of wolves.

‘Homeland’s’ defenders were fighting desperately. Under Ling Wuchen’s command, a defensive fleet primarily composed of ‘Fortress’-class destroyers and modified armed freighters formed several thin but resolute lines of defense. They utilized the familiar star system environment and small defensive platforms to maneuver, their ship cannons flashing and missile trails intertwining against the dark backdrop, forming a tragic pattern. However, the disparity in strength was immense. The Foundation’s battleships had superior performance, fiercer firepower, and more seasoned tactical coordination. A ‘Homeland’ destroyer had just destroyed an enemy assault craft when it was hit by the crossfire from two ‘Shadow Assassins’ in its engines, turning into an expanding mass of metallic wreckage in a silent explosion. The defense lines were retreating steadily, vulnerabilities growing, and deadly artillery fire was increasingly able to directly strike the shipyard itself.

The entire ‘Homeland’ star system was permeated with an aura of despair and destruction. Communication channels were filled with chaotic commands, distress signals, and the death throes of warships.

“Damn it! These persistent bastards!” Su Mu slammed her fist onto the control panel, her eyes bloodshot, her body trembling slightly with extreme rage. She could almost see the familiar engineers and technicians in the shipyard struggling amidst explosions and decompression.

Evelyn, from the rear, connected to the remnants of ‘Homeland’s’ network, her voice distorted by shock and anger: “They… they must have analyzed the secondary spatial ripples that leaked when we forcibly warped into the ‘Void Corridor’ and weren’t completely annihilated, then reverse-engineered our approximate location… and conducted a grid search! Was it… was it us who led the enemy here?!” Her tone was filled with self-reproach.

“Now is not the time to assign blame!” Zhuoyue’s voice rang out decisively, instantly overriding all the clamor. He stood at the very front of the bridge, his back to the infernal scene on the screen, his figure as straight as a pine. The previous fatigue and weakness seemed to have been completely evaporated by the burning anger at this moment; his eyes were as cold as an absolute zero abyss, yet stars seemed to be brewing within them. A terrifying aura, a chilling blend of towering rage and absolute calm, emanated from him, causing everyone on the bridge to stiffen.

“All ships, deactivate all camouflage and silence! Push engine power to the limit, target—the enemy fleet core! Immediately access the highest authority of the ‘Homeland’ battlefield defense network, announce on all channels: the ‘Morning Star’ has returned, and I am now taking over joint command of the battlefield!”

The command was concise and unquestionable. The ‘Morning Star’s’ still unrepaired thrusters at the stern erupted with a ghostly blue light beyond their design limits. This scarred battleship, now like a vengeful dragon that had smelled blood, let out a silent roar, charging fearlessly towards that star system of death!

Zhuoyue’s mental power surged out like a raging tide. On the return journey, he had already begun to integrate Delta’s wisdom and Gamma’s legacy, reaching new heights in his understanding of the ‘Web Weaving’ power and the essence of energy. Now, stimulated by the acute pain of his home being attacked, and fueled by the burning conviction to protect, he established an unprecedented deep connection with the spaceship, with ‘Homeland’s’ remaining defensive network, and even with Beacon Alpha, which was hidden deep underground in ‘Homeland’ and had just completed initial repairs and recalibration!

He felt the vast, ancient, and pure energy from Beacon Alpha converge into his body across space; he “saw” the real-time status of every enemy and friendly ship on the battlefield, their energy flow, and even the charging cycles of their weapon systems; he “heard” the anxious calls and unyielding will of every node in ‘Homeland’s’ defensive network.

“Activate—‘Web Weaving Interference Protocol’!” Zhuoyue’s voice, cutting into the battlefield’s public channel, was calm, yet carried a majesty that seemed to make space itself tremble. “Foundation clowns, you’ve picked the wrong place and provoked the wrong people.”

The battle that followed completely overturned the understanding of warfare for all combatants—both friend and foe.

Zhuoyue did not use any conventional fleet tactics. He seemed to have become the spokesperson for the will of this star system itself, using the ‘Morning Star’ as a fulcrum and his own immense energy and will as a brush, to paint astonishing “miracles” on the canvas of the universe.

First stroke: “Spatial Weaving—Bonds of Imprisonment!”

Zhuoyue’s gaze locked onto three ‘Shadow Assassins’ charging at the forefront, preparing to unleash a deadly volley on a crumbling ‘Homeland’ defensive platform. He seemingly casually clenched his hands in the void. The spatial structure around the three enemy ships instantly underwent a bizarre change—they weren’t frozen, but “woven” into a dense and invisible “net” and “colloid”. Their engine nozzles still glowed, but their hulls seemed to have crashed into an invisible, super-viscous liquid; all their maneuvering movements slowed down a hundredfold, as if struggling in a nightmare. The energy beams they fired also deviated and scattered in this distorted space, losing their threat. The three high-speed battleships instantly became sitting ducks, easily focused by the nearby, reacting ‘Homeland’ defenders, turning into three tragically beautiful fireworks.

Second stroke: “Matter Reconstruction—Wall of Sighs!”

The ‘Abyss’-class command ship’s main cannon finished recharging again, its dark red stream of destruction aimed at the most vulnerable core connection point of the ‘Ark’ shipyard. In the nick of time, Zhuoyue pointed his hand at that section of the void. The harmless interstellar dust, tiny meteor fragments, and even metal debris from exploded warships scattered in front of the shipyard, as if hearing a supreme command, converged, compressed, and reorganized at speeds defying physical laws under an invisible force! In the blink of an eye, an incredibly thick, giant shield, shimmering with the cold light unique to temporary alloys, rose out of thin air like the mythical Wall of Sighs, standing directly in the path of the destructive beam!

“Boom—!!!”

The dark red light stream violently slammed into the temporary shield, erupting with a light brighter than a star. The shield’s surface was eroded into a huge concave, its edges disintegrating, but it successfully blocked the fatal blow! Only when the beam was exhausted did the shield slowly dissipate, reverting to flying metal particles. The shipyard was safe and sound.

Third stroke: “Information Turbulence—Storm of Chaos!”

Exceptional consciousness transformed into an invisible torrent, back-invading through the Foundation fleet's communication and data links.

He was not executing traditional electronic warfare cracking, but rather using the wisdom of system chaos and order conversion found in the Delta Knowledge, combined with his own "Energy Programming" understanding of the essence of information, to compile segments of self-replicating, constantly mutating "information virus storms" filled with logical paradoxes and cognitive traps.

This storm swept across the enemy network.

In that instant, friendly and enemy signals on the enemy ships' fire control radars began to flicker and overlap randomly; missile launch commands were corrupted, and several missiles, immediately after leaving their launch tubes, turned around and targeted the nearest friendly vessel; engine power commands were scrambled—some warships suddenly accelerated forward, while others inexplicably began spinning in place; even the internal broadcast of the "Abyss" vessel began to loop jarring, incomprehensible ancient noise mixed with distorted fragments of the "Entropy" whisper, causing the bridge personnel to clutch their heads and scream.

The Foundation fleet descended into unprecedented chaos.

Formations disintegrated, attack efficiency plummeted, and multiple tragic friendly-fire incidents occurred.

"What... what in the world is this?! Report! All systems failed! Spatial parameters are abnormal! We are under attack by an unknown force!" The enemy channels were filled with screams of panic and collapse.

"Impossible! This is absolutely not technology from the material universe! Is it 'The Weaving Net'? Or... the power of 'Entropy'?! No, that's not right..." The commander aboard the "Abyss" vessel—the gloomy, middle-aged man—was utterly aghast.

His previous coldness and calculation were completely gone, leaving only deep terror in the face of the unknown and absolute power.

"Do you feel confused? Do you feel fear?" Zhuoyue's voice clearly cut into all channels again, this time carrying a coldness and majesty akin to divine judgment.

"This is merely a fraction of the protective power you cannot comprehend.

Invading my home, harming my kin, coveting power that should not be touched... your sins can only be cleansed through destruction."

Driven by Zhuoyue's will, the "Morning Star" was like a searing blade cutting through butter.

Ignoring the surrounding chaotic enemy ships, it hurtled straight and irresistibly toward the largest vessel, the "Abyss"-class command ship!

Along the way, enemy ships or drones attempting to block its path were either pushed aside by spatial folds Zhuoyue casually conjured, or shredded by miniature energy vortices generated out of thin air.

"Lock onto the enemy flagship's energy core! Initiate 'Purification Protocol,' frequency Gamma-Alpha-Omega, energy output... maximized!" Zhuoyue stood on the bridge, his body enveloped in materialized energy radiance.

His hair moved without wind, and his eyes seemed to hold the spinning microcosm of a galaxy.

He poured his hatred for "Entropy," his conviction to protect, and the newly comprehended principle of purification against all twisted and defiled existences, entirely into this single strike.

At the bow of the "Morning Star," all weapon modules temporarily went offline, replaced by an unprecedented and extremely complex energy focusing array.

It drew upon support from Beacon Alpha, Zhuoyue's own full power, and even the converged residual energy of the "Homeland" defense network, ultimately condensing into a pure, ultimate "white" that defied description by color.

That was not merely light; it was the manifestation of order, the affirmation of existence, and the fundamental negation of "nothingness" and "distortion."

"Light of Purification, judgment!"

A pure white spear of light, condensed almost to a solid substance, detached from the "Morning Star," crossed the void, and ignored the "Abyss" vessel's frantically deployed final shields (which dissolved like snow in sunlight the moment they touched the white light).

It struck with absolute precision the location of the energy core at the center of the massive hull.

There was no earth-shattering explosion.

Instead, a silently spreading, pure white halo, centered on the impact point, instantly swept over the entire "Abyss" vessel.

Wherever it passed, the dark patterns attached to the hull—traces of "Entropy" contamination originating from the Foundation's "Singularity Project"—faded and vanished as if bleached; the chaotic energy flowing through complex circuits and power conduits was smoothed out and corrected; finally, the violently reacting energy core, which had been attempting to explode, had all its factors of "chaos" and "destruction" drawn out by this light of purification, leaving only the purest, gentlest basic energy.

Then, its structure collapsed, silently imploding, turning into a rapidly cooling mass of metallic slag that posed no further danger.

Having lost its energy core, the entire "Abyss" vessel instantly went dark.

All systems ceased operation, and it became a massive metallic coffin floating in space.

A brief, deadly silence followed, as if even the flashes of nearby explosions had frozen.

This was immediately followed by the signs of the residual Foundation fleet's complete collapse.

Their flagship had been "purified" into a pile of scrap metal in a way they could not comprehend, their commander's fate was unknown, their own systems were still being ravaged by the bizarre information virus, and their god-like enemy was now casting a cold gaze upon them...

"Retreat! The entire fleet, retreat! Initiate random jumps immediately! Get out of this damned place!" The surviving enemy commander issued the terrified command.

The remaining Foundation warships, no longer caring about formation or coordination, frantically activated their jump engines like a startled flock of birds.

Carrying a host of malfunctions and overwhelming fear, they hastily tore open space and fled the star field that had become their nightmare.

The fierce bombardment that had lasted for so long abruptly ceased.

All that remained in the "Homeland" star field were drifting smoke, wreckage, and... the unbelievable silence of survival.

The "Morning Star" slowly reduced speed, its hull still shimmering with unspent energy afterglow, like the cloak of a victor.

It was scarred, yet immensely majestic.

When Zhuoyue stepped out of the bridge and onto the "Homeland" dock's docking platform—which was temporarily patched up and still bore scorch marks and ice crystals—the surviving "Homeland" members came into view.

They emerged from their posts, bunkers, and escape pods, covered in dust, blood, and exhaustion.

But every pair of eyes was fixed firmly on the young figure walking out of the light.

Their gazes held shock, ecstasy, gratitude, tears of relief, and a fervent reverence that bordered on faith.

Someone shouted first: "Zhuoyue!"

The next moment, cheers, cries, and shouts, like a tsunami or a long-suppressed volcano, erupted!

The sound converged into a wave, impacting the damaged dock structure.

Although sound could not travel in the vacuum, the vibrations through the metal beneath their feet clearly resonated in everyone's hearts.

"Zhuoyue!!"

"Our Guardian God!!"

"We won! Long live Homeland!"

Wang Jianguo, supported by several guards, walked forward excitedly.

The old man, usually as steady as a mountain, was now weeping openly.

He clapped Zhuoyue heavily on the shoulder, his hand trembling, his lips quivering, the emotions finally condensing into a choked whisper: "You're back... My good boy, you came back... just in time! You saved everyone, you saved 'Homeland'!"

Su Mu and Evelyn stood on either side behind Zhuoyue.

Su Mu's tear streaks had not yet dried, but she wore a smile of immense pride and confidence, tightly gripping Zhuoyue's hand.

Although Evelyn was communicating through a screen, her holographic image gazed at Zhuoyue, her eyes filled with relieved satisfaction and an inexpressible tenderness.

Zhuoyue stood there, accepting this overwhelming gratitude and respect.

The coldness and majesty on his face gradually faded, revealing a deep weariness, but more so, a settled sense of calm and determination.

He raised his head, looking up at the vast starscape, which was stained by the fires of war but still magnificent, and at the damaged but fundamentally sound keel of the "Ark."

In this battle, he had turned the tide, protecting Homeland in a way that bordered on the miraculous.

He was no longer the young genius who needed protection and guidance, but had truly become the backbone of "Homeland," the irreplaceable guardian and leader in everyone's hearts.

The king had returned and turned the tide of fate.

News of this battle would surely spread like a hurricane across the star systems.

It not only declared that "Homeland" possessed a power that could not be slighted but also demonstrated a fact to all enemies, overt and covert: here, there was a Guardian who had touched the fundamental power of the universe.

The war between "Homeland" and the Foundation, and the shadow of "Entropy," had thus entered a new, far more magnificent chapter.