58: Beautiful Dream

Lin Mo's sleep was far from peaceful.

His consciousness sank into a darkness deeper than black mist.

He wasn't on the soft bed of the Natural Selection.

He sat on a throne forged from unknown black metal and flowing light.

It was cold, hard, yet perfectly conformed to his back, as if it were an extension of his body.

Before him was no longer the cramped cockpit.

Instead, it was a Bridge vast enough to contain mountains.

Under his feet was a gilded floor, smooth as a mirror, reflecting the slowly flowing, brilliant river of stars, composed of pure data, above his head.

Through the seemingly boundless transparent viewport at the front of the Bridge, he could see the universe's splendor and its cruelty.

Giant gas planets cast colorful shadows beside him.

Distant stars, like diamonds scattered carelessly, emitted an eternal and lonely light.

He felt his body.

No, it was another body.

A body filled with unimaginable, surging power.

His will was deeply linked with this colossal entity named “Natural Selection”; every thought could transform into a command to alter the trajectories of stars.

“Target locked, coordinates SG-774, a G-type yellow dwarf star about to enter its decay phase.”

A cold, emotionless electronic female voice sounded in his mind.

He did not speak.

It was merely a thought.

“Execute ‘Cleanse’ protocol.”

“Protocol confirmed, main cannon ‘Annihilation’ commencing charge.”

The dome of the Bridge, that data star river, began to spin wildly, converging into a single point, projecting a deep blue beam of light that pierced the heavens and earth, pouring into the deepest part of the battleship.

The entire battleship began to emit a low hum, like the breathing of a god before awakening.

He could feel that energy, capable of tearing through space-time, being constrained, compressed, and shaped.

He saw his crew.

They wore silver-white uniforms, standing silently at their respective posts, their faces devoid of expression, like a group of precise, soulless machines.

In their eyes, there was only absolute obedience.

Outside, that distant, tiny star was infinitely magnified in the scope's view.

It burned quietly, oblivious to its impending fate.

“Charge complete.”

“Fire.”

It was still that cold thought.

No beam of light.

No cannonball.

The bow of the “Natural Selection” merely diffused an almost imperceptible, pitch-black ripple outwards.

That ripple, at a speed exceeding light, instantly traversed several astronomical units of vast distance, silently touching the surface of that star.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

The next second.

That star, which had burned for billions of years, did not explode, did not expand.

It simply… extinguished.

All its light and heat were completely swallowed by that black ripple, collapsing inward into an absolutely void singularity.

A star was thus cleanly erased from the universe.

Like wiping a speck of chalk dust from a whiteboard.

There was not the slightest ripple in his heart.

This was merely a routine “obstacle clearance” during countless voyages.

However.

Just as that star completely disappeared.

The steady, powerful hum within the Bridge developed a discordant noise.

Beside him, the adjutant, who always followed him and was responsible for recording the voyage log, quietly stepped back half a pace, lowered her head, and avoided his gaze.

The atmosphere instantly became eerie.

A chill originating from the depths of his soul surged up without warning.

He slowly rose from the throne.

He turned around.

He saw his most trusted Guard Captain, leading a squad of fully armed soldiers, blocking the only exit to the Bridge.

On the faces of those soldiers, there was no longer the reverence and obedience of old.

Instead, there was a cold, numb determination he had never seen before.

The muzzles of the energy rifles in their hands, capable of easily tearing through battleship armor, were no longer pointed outwards.

Instead, they were uniformly aimed at him.

Aimed at the only, supreme Captain of the Natural Selection.

“Why?”

He tried to speak, but found his throat felt as if it were filled with lead, unable to utter any sound.

The extreme absurdity and incomprehensible betrayal caused his heart, which had long been accustomed to the birth and death of stars, and had been as still as an ancient well, to feel a tearing pain for the first time.

The Guard Captain’s face was devoid of any expression.

He merely raised his hand and aimed his exclusive golden high-energy pistol at Lin Mo’s brow.

The cold, circular muzzle reflected his own face, filled with shock and bewilderment.

A faint glow lit up in the muzzle.

Then, there was an all-consuming white.

“Ah!”

Lin Mo abruptly sat up from the bed, gasping for breath.

His heart, as if gripped by an invisible large hand, pounded madly, almost bursting through his chest.

His forehead and neck were covered in cold sweat.

He instinctively raised his hand and touched his brow.

There was no wound there, only a slick film of cold sweat.

He looked around.

This was not the cold and magnificent Bridge from his dream.

Instead, it was the Natural Selection's slightly cramped but lively rest cabin.

The air was filled with a faint salty scent of sea breeze, mixed with a hint of food aroma.

The hull swayed gently and rhythmically.

Clink.

Clang.

A faint clatter of pots, bowls, and utensils came from outside the door, clearly reaching his ears.

Immediately after, came Gu Nianqiu’s cheerful voice, humming an out-of-tune tune.

Everything was so real.

So warm.

Lin Mo let out a long, turbid breath, letting his body's weight fall back onto the bed board behind him.

But the cold, desperate feeling of being aimed at by a gun in his dream clung to his mind like a maggot in a wound, refusing to dissipate.

That Guard Captain’s face, that extinguished star, that battleship named “Natural Selection”.

Everything was too real.

So real that he couldn't distinguish which one was the dream.

He sat by the bed, silent for a long time.

It wasn't until the aroma from the kitchen grew stronger that he slowly stood up and pushed open the door to the rest cabin.

Warm light and the enticing scent of food wafted towards him.

The girl in the cute Lolita dress was on her tiptoes, wearing an apron, busy in the brand new intermediate kitchen, her profile looking particularly serious and serene in the light.

This vibrant, lively scene, full of the scent of everyday life, finally completely dispelled the cold starry sky from his dream.