164: Record

The Wanderer's silver-white hull carefully avoided the massive metal fragments floating in orbit, slowly approaching the largest of the space station wrecks.

This wreck, designated "Alpha-01", had once been a magnificent space fortress over twelve kilometers in diameter. Despite being scoured by a million years of time and eroded by micrometeoroids, its unique Gothic spires and flying buttresses still stubbornly pointed into deep space, like a great steel cathedral abandoned in the vacuum.

"What breathtaking design aesthetics."

Ilya stood before the holographic screen, her red eyes reflecting the desolate yet solemn image of the wreck.

"They didn't seem to distinguish between technology and religion, or perhaps in their culture, machinery itself was an extension of faith."

"Captain, scans show that while the core area of the wreck has lost pressure, the structure remains relatively intact, and it may still contain physical data storage media," the Navigator's electronic voice chimed in at the right moment. "Multiple accessible breaches have been detected; I suggest deploying the drone swarm."

"Approved," Ilya waved her hand. "Release the drones, and tell them to be gentle—these are million-year-old antiques, after all."

Following the order, the hatch on the Wanderer's underbelly slid open, and dozens of dragonfly-sized reconnaissance robots swarmed out.

Relying on micro-jet propulsion, they nimbly dove into a massive, molten-edged rift on the side of the wreck.

The footage transmitted back by the drones was a bit shaky and noisy, but thanks to real-time AI restoration, it remained clearly visible.

The interior scene was even more stunning than the exterior.

It was a wide main corridor, flanked by towering pillars engraved with exquisite and intricate patterns.

Furthermore, those patterns were not merely decorative; according to the Navigator's analysis, they were actually some form of energy transmission circuitry.

The floor was scattered with countless debris: twisted metal plates, shattered crystal screens, and corpses.

Although a million years had passed, in the vacuum, low temperature, and sterile space environment, these corpses had not decayed but had instead turned into withered mummies, some even maintaining the poses they held in their final moments.

The drone's camera zoomed in, scanning these unfortunate victims.

They possessed the exact same physiological characteristics as the medieval civilization race on the surface: humanoid, with five fingers, and slightly thicker bone structures.

The difference, however, was that they were not wearing coarse linen or plate armor, but meticulously crafted spacesuits.

These spacesuits had very distinctive designs, complied with vacuum life-support principles, and featured a golden sun emblem on the chest.

"Scans show these spacesuits are made of carbon nanotube fibers and some kind of polymer, with a technological level roughly equivalent to humanity's mid-21st century," Ilya analyzed the data. "But their aesthetic... it's really retro."

The drones continued to push deeper, passing through a series of violently breached airtight doors.

The scenes along the way gradually pieced together a harrowing picture of war.

"A fierce boarding battle took place here," Ilya concluded. "The invaders breached the interior of the space station and carried out a massacre."

Finally, the drone swarm arrived at the core of the space station.

It was like a massive circular amphitheater, with hundreds of operator stations arranged in tiers around a giant holographic projection table in the center that had been extinguished for a million years.

The corpses were most dense here.

Sitting in the highest command seat was a mummified corpse wearing ornate robes, his hand tightly clutching an operation panel; even after a million years of death, his posture still conveyed defiance and despair.

"That panel..." Ilya's eyes lit up. "It's some kind of high-density information storage device! It's still functioning!"

The drone flew over cautiously, extended its robotic arm, and gently removed the panel from the corpse's hand.

"Attempting to read data... interface protocol mismatch... performing logical translation..."

"Read successful."

A recording that had spanned a million years lit up on the bridge screen of the Wanderer.

The footage began with violent shaking and static, accompanied by the piercing sound of electrical interference.

Then, the image gradually became clear.

The "person" sitting in the command seat came to life.

His skin was a healthy pale gold, and his eyes were bright, but his face was now filled with fear and rage.

The background noise was a chaotic cacophony of alarms and screams.

"...The defensive line has collapsed! All defensive lines have collapsed!"

The man roared at the recorder; although the language was foreign, thanks to the unparalleled computing power of Faleim's super AI, the translation software quickly provided subtitles.

"Our fleet is burning! Our orbital cannons are ineffective against them! Even the last Temple Guardian-class fortress was destroyed by that light..."

Boom!

The footage shook violently as a corner of the command hall's ceiling collapsed, the firelight reflecting on his desperate face.

"The gods have finally gone mad. They are no longer our guardians, but have become the most terrifying calamity!"

In the footage, the commander stood up abruptly and pointed outside the viewport.

Through the recorder's lens, Ilya saw a sight that even made her heart shudder.

In the space outside the station, there were no conventional warships, but rather several giant, luminous entities emitting dazzling golden light, their size comparable to mountains.

They had no fixed form, appearing like clouds of burning plasma, or perhaps projections of some higher-dimensional beings.

These luminous entities casually released whips of golden light, lashing out at the space station and warships. Objects struck by these whips disintegrated instantly, as if the binding forces of matter had been directly erased.

"We have lost... completely lost..."

The commander slumped back into his seat.

"They want to strip us of our wings, break our spines, and beat us back into the dirt."

"Our current civilization will be completely destroyed. I don't know if there will be any survivors on the surface, but if there are, let them hide in the deep mountains! Hide in caves! Forget technology! Forget the stars!"

"Only by pretending to be ignorant beasts will it be better for us, and for the gods."

"This is the final record... may our descendants forgive our cowardice..."

Zzzzt—

The footage cut off abruptly amidst a burst of intense white light.

Ilya stared quietly at the now-darkened panel, remaining silent for a long time.

A million years ago, a brilliant space civilization had flourished here; they had built magnificent space stations, possessed vast fleets, and perhaps had even touched the threshold of more advanced technology.

Then, the gods descended.

These invaders possessed technology far beyond the comprehension of this civilization, or perhaps some special form of life; they destroyed everything in orbit and beat this civilization back to the Stone Age.

Perhaps some survivors had fled back to the surface, warning the survivors there to follow their ancestors' last testament to "forget technology and pretend to be ignorant," and over the long ages, they had truly regressed into a feudal society.

Yet they still retained a worship of their ancestors, viewing those high-tech wrecks as miracles and incorporating the space station's architectural style into their castles and temples.

The lighthouse on that cliff was actually an abandoned fusion reactor, and those seemingly sturdy castles were actually supported by ancient alloy skeletons.

"So-called gods..."

Ilya sneered.

"Energy-based life? That should be interesting..."

"Navigator, analyze the combat data of those luminous entities."

"Insufficient data, Captain. However, based on the footage, it can be inferred that the weapons used by those creatures have clear characteristics of energy weaponry and possess the ability to penetrate conventional armor and shields."

Ilya nodded.

The medieval civilization below was far more interesting than she had imagined. She couldn't wait to investigate the secrets of those "gods" and figure out exactly what they were.

"Navigator, maintain the stealth field and enter the planet's atmosphere; we're going down to take a look."