Lightwings

"Data on the next star system compiled."

"Designation: SC-19. A white dwarf star. No planetary bodies detected; however, it possesses a massive asteroid belt, estimated mass: over 23 Earth masses."

As Ayla reported, Luna recalled the Tau Ceti asteroid belt.

SC-19's belt was far larger, likely containing billions of asteroids.

"Follow standard procedure; reconnaissance and resource analysis. Assess its development potential."

Ayla, in a sleek black liquid metal uniform, holding a tablet, nodded seriously.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Preliminary scans indicate abundant metal deposits, at least twenty-five times greater than Tau Ceti's reserves. High development potential."

"Further analysis is required, but I recommend deploying additional troops in preparation for establishing a permanent presence."

"This system is approximately halfway to our destination; we should construct a space station here, further expanding the Federation's territory."

Ayla's recommendation suggested a high degree of certainty.

Luna nodded. "Proceed."

"Simulated Universe 1.0 is online at the Federation capital, available to leading academics. Some researchers have improved thruster designs, increasing energy efficiency and boosting ship speed by 20%."

"If sufficient metal resources are available, we should upgrade the fleet."

As their civilization advanced, their fleet had to keep pace.

Even spending a century on upgrades would save them several times that duration on future voyages.

The Federation's thruster technology had plateaued; even the largest warships had a maximum speed of around 21,000 km/s.

This 20% increase was significant, confirming the value of the Simulated Universe.

Ayla's server currently utilized only 1% of the Tau Ceti Dyson swarm's output. She planned to gradually increase this to 10%, 50%, even 100%, allowing her to fully utilize a star's energy for an even larger Simulated Universe.

But a yellow dwarf's output was limited. The Federation's next energy source would be Sirius, a blue giant star.

Sirius had far greater mass and luminosity than yellow dwarfs, releasing over 31 times more energy. The Federation's most crucial projects were focused on Sirius. Fully harnessing the energy of a single blue giant would be enough to propel the Federation to Type 2.2.

Four years later, the fleet reached the edge of the SC-19 system.

The reconnaissance ships transmitted images.

A metallic plate, the size of a car, twisted and partially melted.

"A civilization?"

Luna was intrigued. Was there a civilization within SC-19? This was unlikely; four years of observation had shown that the largest object in the system was a Pluto-sized dwarf planet.

Ayla appeared on the screen. "This is a high-strength alloy suitable for spacecraft construction."

"I estimate this civilization has reached Type 1, comparable to the Multi-eyed."

The fleet paused at the edge of SC-19; reconnaissance ships entered to investigate. More debris was found, not scattered fragments, but massive quantities.

Within a month, over a million tons of debris was found within a small area.

Looking at the wreckage, Luna imagined the destruction of a warship.

What had happened here?

"Luna, core component identified: a fusion reactor."

A massive fusion reactor, evoking the awe Luna felt millennia ago upon first seeing a controllable fusion reactor.

"Analyze these fragments. How old are they?"

While metals don't rust in space, their atoms still decay. Stable elements have half-lives measured in billions of years. Determining the fragments' age involved analyzing their composition and decay rates.

"Approximately 107,000 years ago,"

Ayla confirmed.

107,000 years ago; humanity was still in the Stone Age.

"It seems a battle took place here."

An interstellar battlefield.

Luna hadn't anticipated this.

The subsequent discovery shocked everyone, including the soldiers and officers on board.

The amount of debris was staggering!

Deploying unmanned drones accelerated the search and revealed far greater quantities of debris.

The initial estimate of one million tons increased to 10 billion tons, and this wasn't the end; larger fragments, hundreds of meters in size, were found scattered throughout the asteroid belt.

After two years of exploring one-tenth of SC-19, the total debris mass reached 3 trillion tons. If this density was consistent throughout the system, the total debris mass would be approximately 30 trillion tons.

This was comparable to the total resources of a Type 1.2–1.3 civilization.

And it wasn't just ship wreckage. They also found remnants of structures—structures clearly built on a planet's surface, not in space.

"Analysis of the asteroid belt's composition reveals that these asteroids originated from three distinct planets."

This wasn't a random encounter between civilizations.

This was the systematic destruction of a civilization by a more advanced one.

A civilization capable of completely destroying planets would be at least Type 2.

Luna hadn't witnessed a planet-destroying weapon firsthand, but she had orchestrated the destruction of Proxima Centauri b.

This was graveyard of a civilization.

A common, and brutal, end in the universe.

"Who could have done this?"

Luna wondered.

The nearest Type 2 civilizations were the relatively young Galactic Federation (only a few thousand years old), the weakened Purple Thorns, and the Olive Branch civilization.

A passing civilization was unlikely; Type 2 civilizations rarely wander aimlessly through space due to the high energy costs.

Luna pondered this.

The SC-19 system contained not only ship wreckage, but also remnants of planetary structures, indicating the complete destruction of a civilization.

"Analysis of the asteroid belt reveals that these asteroids originated from three planets."

This wasn't a random encounter.

A Type 2 or higher civilization had systematically destroyed another.

Luna hadn't witnessed such destructive power, but she had orchestrated the destruction of Proxima Centauri b.

This was a graveyard of civilizations, a common and brutal end in the vastness of space.

"Who could have done this?"

Luna wondered.

The nearest Type 2 civilizations were the Galactic Federation, the Purple Thorns, and the Olive Branch.

A passing civilization was unlikely; Type 2 civilizations rarely wandered aimlessly due to energy constraints.

Luna pondered. The vastness of SC-19's asteroid belt suggested a possible explanation for the civilization's destruction.

The discovery of a destroyed civilization was sobering; the entire fleet fell silent.

The Federation promoted the theory of imagination as a resource, teaching its citizens to approach less-advanced civilizations with benevolent guidance, aiming for integration.

The reality of a destroyed civilization contrasted sharply with this ideal.

It was like the 21st century learning of a nation's erasure from the map.

This time, it was an entire civilization. Would the Federation suffer the same fate?

This knowledge served as motivation.

"Ayla, even if the ships were destroyed, some beings would have been ejected into space. The cold would preserve their bodies. Deploy fighters to search for any remains."

Ayla acted quickly, although this wasn't an easy task—searching for small corpses in a star system was like finding a needle in a haystack.

The search lasted two years.

Luna, holding a copy of Basic Algebra, sat in the Celestial Palace's library, a 30-meter-tall space spanning 20,000 square meters.

The library had a massive window, 30 meters high and 50 meters wide.

Outside was a small rainforest biome where a 30-meter-long dragon rested, releasing plumes of white smoke from its nostrils. Luna called it the Mist Dragon, one of her pets.

The library floor suddenly lowered, and the walls shifted. Luna found herself standing in a laboratory.

A two-meter diameter sphere of water, suspended by an electromagnetic field, contained a large, pink, fleshy mass—like a gigantic bacterium.

Luna set down her book, staring at the lifeform.

"Is this the SC-19 lifeform?"

"It lacks limbs; how could it create complex machinery?"

Luna had received news about the discovery of life a week prior, but its transport required time, so she was waiting in the library.

"Its genetic material is severely damaged by radiation; its original form is unknown."

"However, its current form is clearly artificial, not natural."

This was evident.

Naturally evolving organisms possess adaptations suited to their environment. Their ecological niche determines their structure and specializations—defense, camouflage, offense, parasitism, and so forth.

But this organism exhibited none of these adaptations.

Its structure was too weak; it lacked specializations for survival.

"This civilization's lifeforms likely weren't originally like this, but with technological advancement, they might have abandoned their original bodies for artificial ones."

"While I cannot fully reconstruct their genome, the specimen's age at death was likely around 230 years. Extended lifespan might have been a factor."

"Further analysis of the spacecraft reveals a complete lack of living quarters, only a one-meter diameter control area. The hair-like structures are nerve endings, used to interface with technology."

This was another form of transhumanism.

"And something interesting: I've observed a wound healing, allowing me to analyze the cell division process. Their cells reproduce rapidly—500 times faster than cancer cells."

This meant they possessed powerful regenerative abilities, making their seemingly frail bodies deceptively resilient.

"Let's call them the Cancerians."

"This civilization reached Type 1, yet was destroyed. There must be a reason."

"Ayla, can you decipher their language? Analyze the data from the wreckage."

Advanced civilizations often encrypt their communications, adding further layers of complexity. Direct neural interfaces also increased the difficulty of decryption.

Ayla could create a biological simulation of the organism. Even with genetic differences, similar structures would reveal communication methods. By stimulating the devices within the wreckage and analyzing the signals' passage through the cloned organism's nerves, Ayla could reconstruct the language.

This approach was far more efficient than brute-force computation.

"Yes, no problem."

"Just give me some time."

This time: seven months.

Even with the Celestial Palace's advanced server, Ayla's subordinate still required seven months—a testament to the complexity of the task.

After countless attempts, Ayla generated a prototype of the language—equivalent to three volumes of a dictionary.

While mental communication is, in practice, simpler than verbal or written communication, deciphering it into written form is extremely challenging, since even minute emotional variations can alter the information conveyed.

Especially when combined with visual imagery.

Luna glanced at the dictionary's introduction and set it aside, then asked,

"Any useful information?"

Ayla shook her head.

"There's data on another civilization, but the Cancerians didn't know who their enemy was."

"The attackers didn't communicate; they simply attacked, annihilating the civilization within ten years. The Cancerians never even saw them."

"The most useful discovery isn't related to warfare but to one of their developing technologies."

Ayla gestured, and a 3D model of a rotating object appeared.

Its shape...

Luna searched her memories.

"A Prince Rupert's Drop?"

Molten glass dropped into cold water forms a teardrop shape; its head is incredibly strong, able to withstand bullets, but its tail is incredibly fragile.

"Correct. A Prince Rupert's Drop."

"But not made of glass; this one is made of electromagnetic fields."

"This technology allowed them to increase the strength of an electromagnetic field by a factor of one million. However, the technology was still in its early stages; otherwise, they could have prolonged their defense."

This was a useful technology.

Luna considered its potential applications.

And, if electromagnetic fields could be formed into Prince Rupert's Drops, what else could be shaped this way?

Perhaps even at the more subatomic level.

"Luna, something's wrong."

After a long silence, Ayla sent a message.

"What's wrong?"

Luna accessed the holographic display, where Ayla projected a model of the electromagnetic Prince Rupert's Drop.

Luna sat up straight, her full attention now on the display.

This wasn't a technological model, but a genetic one.

"Biology... or physics?"

Luna pulled up a series of formulas and began analyzing the model. It was indeed an electromagnetic phenomenon but contained genetic information.

"This genetic sequence is complete. Could this civilization have preserved a part of itself?"

Life is fragile in the universe; external threats, internal conflicts, and cosmic events can lead to extinction.

An advanced civilization might preserve its genome, hoping another civilization would find it and recreate them.

While the ultimate outcome is unknown, it's better than nothing.

0% versus 0.00001%—an individual might not care, but an entire species would opt for the latter.

"This genetically encoded technological model is likely their backup plan."

"Ayla, what do you think?"

Luna asked, though she already had an answer.

Ayla knew this too.

"The Federation lacks diversity. A single-species civilization is more stable."

"But the Federation has chosen a different path—integrating civilizations to achieve multi-faceted development. Each civilization, with its unique biology, has different adaptations and will develop different technologies."

"Our current scientific endeavors are broad, but we can expand further."

"Weren't the Warbeasts and the Cancerians the main goal of this expedition?"

"Therefore, my recommendation is to recreate this species using the genetic blueprint."

The Federation's current bio-engineering technology was sufficiently advanced, but artificially created species often have adaptability issues.

All naturally occurring civilizations have undergone natural selection. This evolutionary pressure creates resilience, aggression, and a drive for advancement.

Artificial creations lack these qualities; they would be more pacifistic.

The difference between a wolf and a chihuahua.

Furthermore, these artificial creations would be limited by the Federation's understanding, but the universe offers boundless possibilities.

Recreating the species from this genetic model wasn't difficult.

Luna didn't entrust this to Ayla but did it herself.

Like building with blocks, creating the carbon-based cellular structure, then editing the DNA.

Interestingly, this species' DNA wasn't composed of the standard elements—carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, nitrogen, and phosphorus, forming phosphoric acid, nucleobases, and deoxyribose—but a more exotic combination.

While still carbon-based, their DNA heavily utilized boric acid and phosphoric acid, with minimal hydrogen and oxygen. These creatures required oxygen, but only 10% of a human's needs.

After completing the gene sequence, Luna noticed the DNA seemed to "glow."

Not literal light; it was a theoretical construct, making it easy to visualize the organism's cells—likely to produce boric and phosphoric acid.

These acids are common light-emitting materials used in phosphors.

After 51 hours, Luna successfully generated the first cell. It was roughly spherical but with a hexagonal structure resembling a honeycomb.

Whether spherical or hexagonal, these were perfect shapes dictated by internal pressures. Honeycombs start as spheres and then are compressed into hexagons—a marvel of natural engineering.

Luna created a stem cell, then cultivated it, triggering cell division.

Once the genome's stability was confirmed, she began reconstructing the organism.

Surprisingly, this species reproduced through cell division, like bacteria. There were no distinct sexes. Upon reaching maturity, the organism would gradually split into two smaller individuals.

These new individuals would then grow to maturity and repeat the process.

The cell division, however, resulted in "new cells" and "old cells." Unlike human cells, where one cell's telomeres shorten after division while the other cell's remain unchanged, both cells possessed restored telomeres. The new cells had a full lifespan; the old cells didn't revert to a younger state.

This was a fascinating adaptation, ensuring the species' continued survival.

If their cells aged like human cells, wouldn't their lifespans eventually shorten to zero, leading to extinction?

A week later, the organism developed into its original form.

Luna, gazing upon the creature, was awestruck.

It wasn't the Cancerians she had imagined, but an entirely new species.

It resembled a squid, with a smoother, less spherical head. Its skin functioned as its mouth, consuming minerals and microorganisms.

It had no eyes; its primary sensory organs were four tentacles that could detect vibrations and heat signatures, functioning as both eyes and ears.

The creature's posture resembled a shrimp—imagine a squid or octopus curled into a "C" shape.

Its most striking features were three pairs of large, transparent, insect-like wings. Its body was only 70 centimeters long, but its wingspan exceeded 2.4 meters, suggesting powerful flight capabilities.

But what truly amazed Luna was its color—pure white. After feeding, it began to glow; partially from the phosphorescent boric and phosphoric acid, but mainly due to its cells' unique arrangement. Like an electric eel, its cells generated electricity, using it for bioluminescence.

Its skin's opacity somewhat masked this effect, but its transparent wings glowed brightly, forcing Luna to wear sunglasses.

Almost instantly, Luna chose a dramatic name.

"Lightwings!"

"This was the Cancerians' original form."

"Like angels transformed into demons."

The Cancerians' appearance suggested mindless destruction; the elegant Lightwings seemed divine. Had they appeared on Earth millennia ago, they'd likely be worshipped as gods—or perhaps eaten.

Luna retrieved a Lightwing from its growth chamber. After examination, its physical attributes were deemed stable.

Two and a half hours later, the Lightwing awoke, its tentacles scanning its surroundings before focusing on Luna.

Luna felt a slight tingling sensation under its gaze.

Ayla appeared.

"The Lightwings' bioelectricity also functions as a sensory organ, generating 3200 volts to perceive its surroundings within a 0.5-meter radius. This range increases to 50 meters in water."

3200 volts—enough to kill a whale.

"How similar is its language to the Cancerians'?" Luna asked.

"30%."

Not much, but enough to rapidly create a new language model. However, Luna wouldn't bother learning it; advanced civilizations' languages were complex, requiring direct knowledge transfer, rather than years of study.

Fortunately, Ayla could decipher it quickly. Through repeated interactions, they analyzed the Lightwing's emotional and communicative signals.

After a few hours, Luna received Ayla's translation system and began the conversation.

"Let's talk."

"Don't feign ignorance. When I saw your genetic blueprint, I knew your species' genome contained hidden knowledge."

Genes carry hereditary information, including instinctive behaviors, bypassing the need for learning.

More advanced civilizations could even encode memories within their genes.

Unlike cloning, which creates an exact copy, this method wasn't about replicating memories but rather embedding knowledge within the genome—a far simpler process.

"What?"

This simple response was translated by Ayla.

"I won't ask again. If you continue this charade, I will erase your memories and knowledge, making you my subordinate."

"My civilization is far more powerful than the one that destroyed yours. I expect honesty."

Based on the data about the conflict, the Type 2 civilization from 100,000 years ago was indeed weaker than the current Federation.

After a prolonged silence.

The Lightwing responded. "That is indeed the greatest threat."

"My name is Xin. Since my awakening, I have known my mission is to restore my civilization, by any means necessary, even if it means becoming a slave."

"Ideally, a Type 1 civilization would discover the genetic model, but it seems Type 2 civilizations are more likely to find it."

"I will answer any questions; I only ask that you give my civilization a chance to survive."

It was intelligent, carrying the weight of its civilization's knowledge.

Luna shook her head.

"I have no questions; we already know what we need to know."

"I will not enslave or harm you. I invite you to join the Galactic Federation."

An entire Type 1 civilization—an invaluable asset.

Ayla explained the Federation's structure and scale to Xin. Xin was awestruck, overwhelmed by the sheer scope of it.

A powerful Type 2.1 civilization controlling a territory spanning dozens of light-years and encompassing ten civilizations.

"You will become the Federation's eleventh member species. Do you accept?"

Xin didn't hesitate.

"Of course."

"We have nothing to offer in return."

"We both understand that refusal would render me worthless; I have no right to refuse."

Xin, lacking social skills, was refreshingly straightforward.

Luna smiled faintly.

"This is the best outcome."

"I can give you a tour of our flagship. I enjoy sharing."

Sharing?

Xin was skeptical. This was likely a display of power.

But Xin was also curious about this civilization that had recreated her species.

Leaving the lab, she gazed at her surroundings, curiously touching things. After walking through a long corridor, she saw a small, furry creature with a tail that made a "meow" sound, which startled her.

"That's a cat."

Luna could create dragons and serpents, so recreating cats and dogs was trivial.

Cats and dogs were common pets in the Federation, though many preferred miniature mythological creatures.

For example, two-meter-long golden dragons capable of flight, palm-sized Pixiu whose stomach acid could dissolve metal, one-meter-tall phoenixes capable of withstanding temperatures of 200°C and regenerating from flames...

Xin then encountered the ship's crew—a diverse mix of species. They were equally surprised by the glowing Lightwing.

Influenced by human aesthetics, they were fascinated by Xin's appearance, crowding around her. Startled, Xin instinctively released a powerful electric shock, stunning several soldiers.

Fortunately, the soldiers were wearing powered armor and had nanobots, which prevented serious injuries.

"I apologize; I'm not used to such enthusiasm," Xin said apologetically.

Luna waved her hand dismissively.

"It's fine. Everyone has a first time."

"The ship isn't spacious. We've replicated some areas for your comfort. I would have preferred to give you a tour of our capital, but we are on a voyage."

"You can remain here in your home system. We will leave some soldiers for its development."

"Or you can join our voyage and see another powerful Type 2 civilization and the beauty of the cosmos."

Xin wasn't particularly valuable to Luna.

The genetic blueprint had been transmitted to the Federation; countless new Lightwings would soon be created, becoming the Federation's eleventh species.

"I'll join the voyage."

Xin quickly made her decision; she seemed to want to leave.

Luna didn't ask why.

"Very well, but we will remain here for a while."

This delay lasted 34 years. After upgrading the fleet's thrusters, they departed.

The Olive Branch civilization was only 2200 years away.

After spending several years together, Xin developed a favorable impression of the "benevolent" Luna and began to open up, engaging in discussions and even debates.

"Mathematics is a powerful tool, granting scholars insights into the universe."

"According to our records, our civilization experienced a 500-year period of intense mathematical development, making significant advancements in geometry."

Xin rested on a large, metallic sphere emitting a faint static charge; she seemed to enjoy the sensation.

They were in the library; this conversation arose from Luna's study of topology.

Topology, a crucial branch of mathematics, primarily focuses on geometric properties under continuous transformations. Understanding higher dimensions requires a strong understanding of topology.

The Federation was exploring higher dimensions, their focus on string theory, superstring theory, and M-theory.

Many scholars researching these theories also studied topology, achieving great success.

Xin, observing this, commented on it.

The library's collection came from the Federation capital. The books, while paper, used a special ink that generated heat, making them readable by those who lacked eyes and saw through heat.

Though Xin couldn't understand English, she could comprehend the mathematical diagrams.

"Despite our advancements, we haven't achieved unification or resolution in the field of geometry."

"If we had, we might have been able to defend ourselves."

Luna set down her book, intrigued by the topic.

Perhaps she simply enjoyed listening to stories.

Like an old woman who could talk for hours.

"Topology corresponds to spatial understanding and imagination. The classic three-dimensional topological structure is the Möbius strip."

Luna conjured a holographic display, creating a rectangle, fixing one end, rotating the other by 180 degrees, and joining the two ends—a Möbius strip.

This was a classic non-Euclidean geometric shape, resembling the infinity symbol (∞).

The Möbius strip's fame stemmed from its ease of construction and its fascinating mathematical properties.

Xin, seeing the Möbius strip, was excited.

"Yes, that's it!"

"Any shape can be considered a geometric figure; points, lines, and planes are all part of topology."

"The Carlisle infinite band, what you call a Möbius strip, is one of our civilization's fundamental topological structures. Along with squares, spheres, and circles, it underpins much of our technology."

Luna recalled seeing Möbius strip-like structures in the spacecraft wreckage; this was why she'd recently been studying topology.

Xin continued, "The Möbius strip has a unique property: cutting it lengthwise creates two intertwined Möbius strips. Cutting those lengthwise again creates four intertwined strips, and so on."

"This led one of our greatest mathematicians to ponder a question: how to untangle the Möbius strip?"

"Not simply cutting it, but unraveling its topological structure, transforming it into simpler forms, like squares or rectangles."

"He dedicated his life to this problem but never solved it."

This was the topological equivalent of string theory or Grand Unification.

Any complex structure can be broken down into simpler topological components.

Hearing this, Luna was reminded of a famous 21st-century mathematical problem—the Hodge conjecture.

It states: "Every harmonic differential form on a projective algebraic manifold is a rational linear combination of cohomology classes of algebraic cycles."

This was an extremely complex mathematical concept encompassing topology, algebra, and calculus.

Luna hadn't read about this conjecture in any books; it was one of the Federation's primary research focuses.

The Hodge conjecture, the Riemann hypothesis, and other conjectures were theoretical tools essential to M-theory, particularly its topological framework and its ability to unify general relativity and quantum mechanics.

As the Federation's dominant theory, M-theory required topological calculations for spacetime analysis based on these conjectures.

Essentially, this complex theory suggests that any geometric figure is like a house built from bricks, meaning it can be deconstructed.

Easily understood in lower dimensions.

Everyone understands that a moving point creates a line, a moving line creates a plane, and vice-versa—a plane can be decomposed into lines, lines into points.

But the Hodge conjecture is far more complex, involving advanced algebraic topology.

The Hodge conjecture remained unsolved within the Federation. Solving it would mean unlocking the secrets of higher dimensions, a feat beyond the capabilities of even a Type 2 civilization.

It could even enable dimensional travel and the creation of transdimensional weapons.

As Xin had mentioned, had the Lightwings achieved this breakthrough, they might have been able to defend themselves.

"Actually, our civilization did make some progress."

"Over centuries of research, we've partially unravelled the Möbius strip, decomposing it into simpler shapes: a rectangle and a twisted rectangle."

"Or perhaps a single-twist rectangle and a double-twist rectangle."

"This allowed us to create new closed-loop energy systems."

"Imagine firing a beam of light into a Möbius strip, allowing it to enter higher-dimensional space. Then, before the light exits, untangle the Möbius strip, trapping the photons within a simpler structure—a rectangle, a twisted rectangle, or a circle."

"Due to technological limitations, we've only achieved this at the nanoscale. Such small-scale applications don't significantly impact macroscopic phenomena."

The Lightwings' mathematical advancements were truly remarkable.

It was like a single plank extending beyond the edge of a wooden barrel.

Xin's intention was clear—to offer something valuable, preventing Luna from changing her mind.

Luna suspected this was related to her earlier interactions with Ayla.

Ayla's subordinate required Luna's approval for many things. This had frustrated Luna, leading her to make and then retract some requests, tricking Ayla.

Perhaps this had affected Xin's impression of Luna.