217: That vibrant vitality was like a race against time.

In short, driven by an invisible hand, the L5 Space Station of Ursa Major V01.01 had once again, again, and again turned into a complete mess—

And now, this mess looked like it was boiling over with bubbles.

While internal strife wasn't exactly 'common' in a place as 'spiritually gifted' as The Consortium, it did happen every day; however, it had rarely reached this stage.

Even more ridiculous was that while the situation was galloping toward an uncontrollable direction, the Marshal, who held the highest nominal status in The Consortium, was still completely oblivious—

He was currently alone in his '100% safe' independent space pod, pacing anxiously and waiting for the 'most loyal subject' under his command to send the good news of a successful Great Purge.

Impatience makes one foolish. Right now, he was like a gambler who had lost everything, completely unable to think calmly.

He relied solely on the last seemingly reliable chip in his hand, hoping it would win him an imaginative gamble and allow him to turn the tables in one fell swoop—

"Knock, knock, knock!!!"

Suddenly, a series of urgent knocks came from the internal isolation door of his space pod.

At the same time, his private communicator rang with urgent "beep-beep, beep-beep" sounds.

Dietrich hurriedly answered it. He saw a string of messages sent by Karl Garner—that is, "Celius":

"Multiple great families of First-Class Citizens have launched a joint rebellion! They are fiercely assaulting the defensive lines set up by the Imperial Guard Legion!"

"According to reliable intelligence, the fleets they control are appearing from all over the asteroid belt!"

"I have currently organized three flexible defensive lines, but I don't know how much longer they can hold."

"I have already arranged an escape Warship. Please evacuate with us immediately!"

Sent along with the messages was a video showing several soldiers of the Imperial Guard Legion pinned down by the rebels' superior firepower.

Dietrich was stunned at first. Once he reacted, he immediately smashed the communicator in his hand onto the floor and cursed viciously:

"Damn it! I knew they were going to revolt!"

"Cursed things! Besides sucking blood from The Consortium, what else can these scumbags do!"

After speaking, he stomped heavily on the shattered communicator several times.

Only then did he calm down slightly. He rushed to the door and pulled the internal switch.

Instantly, the alloy door slid to the side, and a thick smell of blood mixed with disinfectant wafted toward him—

Behind the door was the confidant Dietrich trusted most, along with his two large, biochemically modified bodyguards.

All three were covered in thick, stinking blood, and the murderous intent in their eyes had not yet faded.

This scene, imprinted in Marshal Dietrich's eyes, caused his estimation of the situation's severity to rise even further.

"How is it? Where have the rebels reached now?"

He asked hurriedly.

The three looked at each other, and "Celius" spoke:

"Based on the speed at which the Imperial Guard Legion's lines are being breached, we have about an hour for evacuation."

"Please be as fast as possible, Marshal, to prevent any sudden incidents—every second of delay increases the possibility of us being surrounded."

Dietrich nodded nervously and said:

"Give me a few minutes. Some things cannot be left for those Traitors."

"Celius" pretended to think for a few seconds before nodding in agreement.

"Hurry up."

Dietrich rushed to his desk. He first opened a small suitcase, pulled out several documents and small control terminals, and stuffed them in haphazardly.

Soon, he finished his picking and choosing. Carrying the case and holding a very high-end-looking control terminal, he walked over to "Celius."

He took a deep breath and said solemnly:

"Karl Garner, my loyal subject—my child!"

"I now declare! I, representing the entire Claude Family, accept you!"

"From now on, you no longer need to care about your surname. I will take responsibility for adopting you—I declare! When I pass away, you shall be the next Marshal of The Consortium!"

Celius: "..."

He looked at the sputtering fellow before him, his heart filled with disdain—

Why would he want to be a Marshal in a Consortium destined for destruction?

This guy really seemed to have lost his mind, actually imagining he could turn things around just by taking a few documents of legitimacy?

Truly laughable.

But he didn't show his dissatisfaction on his face. He simply said calmly:

"I understand, my Marshal."

"People are dying at the front every moment. Please follow us to the evacuation point quickly."

"If we are late, none of us will have the ability to guarantee your safety."

Dietrich nodded hurriedly and followed the three out of the "safe pod" he had stayed in for days, running toward the so-called "evacuation point."

The three encountered almost no one on the way—actually, even if they had, it wouldn't have mattered.

After all, everyone here was "one of their own."

As for the other hundred or so people, Celius had arranged for them to go to another evacuation area. A reconnaissance-type FG300 coming to pick them up would come for him after picking them up—

"Have you reached the designated position?"

He quietly asked the pickup vessel over the comms.

"Arriving at the designated position in ten minutes."

"Understood."

"We will be in position in three minutes."

Soon, the four arrived at the evacuation point designated by Night Light—

It was a closed small positive-pressure port.

The two modified soldiers immediately raised their weapons. One stood guard over the corridor behind them, while the other entered the positive-pressure port first to check the corners one by one.

"Celius" was about to jump down with them when he suddenly felt someone pull him from behind—

It was Marshal Dietrich.

Celius felt that the way this guy was looking at him was more or less off. That sentimental look, tinged with a hint of sadness, made Celius feel a sense of physical discomfort.

As soon as their eyes met, Dietrich took a deep breath and said sorrowfully:

"Those ungrateful bastards!"

"Eight hundred years ago, we set out on an expedition from Ursa Major, jointly beginning the Great Restoration."

"Wherever our fleet went, we were invincible and victorious. That realm of vitality and competition is still before my eyes."

"Only eight hundred years later, has the once-mighty Consortium truly fallen to such a state?"

Celius looked at this guy who had suddenly become sentimental, not knowing what had gotten into him or how to respond.

But fortunately, the sound of an incoming transmission came through his earpiece—

"The pickup Warship has arrived at the designated position. A Shuttle is being dispatched to pick you up."

Finally, the pickup Warship had arrived.

Hearing this news, Celius no longer hesitated. He smashed the butt of his gun into the back of the head of the still-sentimental Dietrich, giving him the high-quality sleep of an infant.

Then, he hoisted the fellow from the ground onto his shoulder and walked toward the control room of the positive-pressure port...