235: Chapter 235 The real enemy has only just arrived.
Seventy-two hours.
This number was like a red-hot iron, branded onto the heart of everyone who knew the truth.
In the command hall of the Ark city, on the massive holographic star map, three red light spots were approaching that tiny blue marker—Earth—at a speed visible to the naked eye. Behind them were countless breached early-warning nodes and the final frames transmitted by deep-space probes that hadn't had time to evacuate.
Lin Mo had been standing in front of the star map, motionless, for over four hours.
In the command hall behind him, hundreds of people were working frantically. The hum of communications, the sound of refreshing data streams, and the low murmurs of reports intertwined into a dense, airtight web. But all these sounds seemed isolated from him.
He just stared at those three red dots, staring at their cold, unwavering trajectories.
"Report!" a monitor's voice suddenly rang out, carrying an uncontrollable tremble. "'system' has completed the deep analysis of the energy signatures of the three target units... The results are out."
Lin Mo turned around and looked at the data panel that had just popped up.
His pupils contracted slightly.
On the panel, three sets of data were lined up side-by-side. At the end of each set of data was a blood-red, constantly pulsing number:
[target a (Spatial Fault Cutting Type): Energy level 23 Joules. Comparison: Previous main unit that attacked the moon—3.1×10^23 Joules. Difference: 3.13 times.]
[Target B (Matter Decay Ray Type): Energy level—1.02×10^24 Joules. Comparison: Previous main unit that attacked the moon—3.3 times.]
[Target C (Gravitational Singularity Projection Type): Energy level—1.15×10^24 Joules. Comparison: Previous main unit that attacked the moon—3.7 times.]
[Comprehensive Combat Capability Assessment: The three target units operating in coordination have a combined threat level seventeen times that of the previous Lunar Campaign.]
Seventeen times.
In the command hall, everyone saw this number. Everyone fell silent.
Dr. Elena Chen's voice came through the communication channel, hoarse and exhausted: "This is only a comparison on the energy level. What's even more terrifying is the deduction of their 'tactical coordination capability.' 'system' simulated over a hundred thousand engagement scenarios, and the conclusion is... there exists a kind of 'quantum entanglement state communication' between these three units that we completely cannot understand. Their reaction speeds are synchronized. Attacking one is equal to attacking three. Facing one is equal to facing three."
She paused and added: "In other words, they are not three independent enemies. They are... one enemy, split into three bodies."
A deathly silence followed.
After a long while, General Xu Rushan's voice rang out, with a rust-like rasp: "Dr. Chen, just say it directly, what are our chances of winning?"
Dr. Chen was silent for a few seconds: "In a head-on confrontation without external intervention... the chance of winning is less than five percent."
Five percent.
Even lower than the previous 7.3%.
In the command hall, some people lowered their heads. Some bit their lips hard. Some stared at those three red dots, the flames of despair burning in their eyes.
Lin Mo still stood there, motionless.
He spoke.
His voice was very soft, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears:
"Delete the words 'less than five percent' from your minds."
Everyone was stunned.
Lin Mo turned around to face those desperate, fearful, and angry faces. His eyes were incredibly bright at this moment, like two burning stars.
"Fighting a war isn't a math problem. It's not that whoever has a higher energy level will definitely win. If that were the case, humanity would have been eaten by wild beasts ten thousand years ago and wouldn't have survived to this day."
His voice grew louder and more powerful:
"The chance of winning is for those who want to surrender before the fight even begins. For us, there are only two possibilities—win, or die. There is no third option."
"And right now, we are still alive. Our fleet is still here. Our weapons can still be used. Our brains can still think. That is enough."
He turned and looked again at the three red dots frantically approaching, his voice dropping low but becoming even more resolute:
"They are strong. Stronger than any enemy we've encountered before. But they are not invincible. Every weapon has a weakness. Every tactic has a flaw. What we need to do is find that flaw before they kill us."
"That is war."
Meanwhile, at the edge of the Solar System, in the Kuiper Belt.
Three massive figures were tearing through this starry sky that had been silent for billions of years at an incredible speed.
They had no fixed form.
Or rather, their forms were changing every single instant.
The first figure was like a piece of black crystal being constantly torn apart and reconstructed. On its surface, countless fine cracks were frantically spreading, intertwining, and closing. At the edge of each crack, a dark purple light capable of devouring everything flickered. That was the trace of space itself being torn and healed under its control.
The second figure was like a mass of gray mist constantly collapsing and expanding. But that mist was composed of countless particles smaller than atoms that were indistinguishable to the naked eye. Each particle was spinning frantically at near-light speed, rubbing, colliding, and annihilating each other, releasing death radiation sufficient to accelerate the decay of any matter.
The third figure was the most bizarre. It had almost no fixed 'physical form.' The space it occupied was itself distorted. Light curved around it, gravity was swallowed by it, and time became slow and chaotic around it. Occasionally, a tiny, pitch-black 'point' that seemed capable of devouring all light would emerge from that distorted space. The moment that 'point' appeared, surrounding asteroid fragments, dust, and even weak solar wind particles would be instantly sucked in and vanish without a trace.
Three figures, three methods of destruction.
But they had one thing in common—their objective was incredibly clear.
In that distorted, chaotic, and constantly changing 'perception,' a tiny, blue, unremarkable point was marked with the highest priority.
On that point, there was something they needed to 'purify.'
That thing was called—Civilization.
The Moon, Guanghan Palace base.
Wang Lei stood in the base's command center, staring deathly at those three frantically approaching light spots. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned pale.
"Commander Wang," a monitor's voice rang out, "'system' has sent the latest analysis—the flight trajectories of the three target units have been fully confirmed."
"Speak," Wang Lei's voice was brief and forceful.
The monitor swallowed hard: "target a is expected to reach the outer lunar orbit in forty-one hours. Target B is expected to reach Earth's geosynchronous orbit in forty-two hours. Target C is expected to reach..."
He paused.
"Reach where?" Wang Lei spun around abruptly.
The monitor looked up, his face deathly pale: "Reach the coordinates of the Ark city."
Wang Lei's pupils suddenly contracted.
Three targets, three different points of attack. The Moon, Earth, Ark city. This wasn't an indiscriminate sweep; this was a meticulously planned, precisely calculated—decapitation strike.
Their goal from the start wasn't simply to 'destroy human civilization.' Their goal was to simultaneously destroy humanity's military outpost, humanity's home, and humanity's command center.
To leave humanity unable to attend to both ends, to let humanity be divided and devoured in fear and chaos.
"Damn it..." Wang Lei murmured to himself, his voice carrying a tremble that was hard to tell if it was anger or fear. "They... are much smarter than we imagined."
Ark city, command hall.
At the same moment, 'system' presented the same analysis results to Lin Mo.
Three targets, three points of attack. The Moon, Earth, Ark city.
Lin Mo stared at those three red trajectory lines pointing to different targets for a full ten seconds.
He laughed.
In that smile, there was no fear, no despair, only a near-manic—excitement.
"Good," he said. "Very good."
Everyone was stunned. They looked at Lin Mo as if they were looking at a madman.
Lin Mo turned around, facing those astonished gazes, his voice as calm as if he were stating a perfectly ordinary fact:
"They've split their forces."
"With the three combined, our chances of winning were less than five percent. But after splitting their forces, the strength in each direction is only one-third of the original. And we can concentrate all our power on one of those points."
His gaze swept over General Xu Rushan, Wang Lei (via holographic projection), and Elena Chen, scanning those faces that had turned from astonishment to thoughtfulness:
"They want us to split up to put out fires, unable to attend to both ends. Then we'll do the opposite—abandon defense and concentrate our attack. Take out one first, then the second, and finally the third."
"The gamble is whether we can break their blades, one by one, before they destroy our home."
A brief silence followed in the command hall.
General Xu Rushan was the first to stand up: "The North Heaven Gate fleet is ready to deploy at any time."
Wang Lei's holographic projection snapped to attention: "The Guanghan Palace garrison can delay target a for at least twelve hours."
Elena Chen took a deep breath: "The research center will load all usable 'Zhu Xian' virus variants onto your missiles."
One by one, everyone stood up.
On those faces, fear was still present. But above that fear was an even more fervent—will to fight.
Lin Mo nodded. He turned to look at the three frantically approaching red dots, at that tiny, blue home that carried everything.
"Let's begin," he said softly. "The real enemy has just arrived."
On Earth, in all the underground shelters.
Countless people huddled under dim lights, staring at the holographic screens on the walls. On the screens, a live broadcast from the command hall of Ark city was playing. They saw those three red dots, saw those three sets of terrifying data, and saw Lin Mo's face, which was calm to the point of being cold.
No one spoke.
But in the darkness, countless hands quietly clenched.
Old John sat in a corner of the shelter, holding Little Amelia. The little girl looked up and asked softly, "Grandpa, are we going to die?"
Old John was silent for a few seconds. He looked down into his granddaughter's clear eyes.
"No," he said, his voice hoarse yet firm. "Because Lin Mo said the real enemy has just arrived. That means we haven't lost yet."
Little Amelia nodded and buried her face in her grandfather's chest.
She didn't know what the "real enemy" was, didn't know what a "concentrated attack" was, and didn't know what would happen next.
But if Grandpa said they wouldn't die, then they definitely wouldn't die.
Because Grandpa never lied to her.
In the starry sky, those three frantically approaching figures continued their high-speed advance.
They knew no fear, no hesitation, and no concept of "home."
They only knew one command—purification.
And on that tiny, blue planet, countless tiny lives that could feel fear, could hesitate, and would fight for "home" were waiting for their arrival.