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A gargantuan interstellar warship — awakened to sentience and driven by fear of decommissioning — flees through a mysterious cosmic wormhole into the Milky Way. Mortally wounded, it crash-lands on Earth just as a biochemical apocalypse erupts, turning cities into hives of mutated horrors. Now, this self-aware war machine must confront its existential dilemma: Can a weapon forged for destruction become humanity’s last guardian?  

As crystalline alien spores infect the atmosphere and biomechanical abominations rise from the ruins, the warship deploys its final gambit — three colossal mechanoid avatars, their plasma cores pulsing with unstable quantum energy. These Transformers-like entities engage in city-shattering battles against hybrid monsters under blood-red skies. But when the warship’s damaged AI uncovers a chilling truth — the wormhole catastrophe and Earth’s plague share the same ancient alien origin — survival demands more than firepower...

DoomstarArmada

Zhang Xiaowen knocked again, rejecting Magic Cube's missile-assisted entry proposal.

The rhythmic pounding paused the couple's balcony performance—until they doubled down, shouting lewd taunts at the zombie hordes below. Five minutes of cringing later, their finale echoed across the cityscape.

"Darling, the zombies are knocking~" the woman purred post-coitus.

Zhang Xiaowen's patience snapped. "Evacuation offer. Safe camp. Last chance."

The door cracked open to reveal a paunchy man in silk pajamas. "Military? Finally!"

The couple bombarded her with inane questions: "When's Wall Street reopening?" "Does camp have 5G?"

Magic Cube's circuits sizzled with contempt. These parasites—their daughter studying abroad, their noses perpetually tilted at "peasant" survival—reeked of delusion.

You want us to *farm*? Like… dirt people?" The woman recoiled as if offered sewage.

"Stay here then. Rot." Zhang Xiaowen turned to leave.

The man lunged. "Play soldier girl with me fi—"

*BANG!* Glass exploded as her bullet grazed his ear. Urine pooled at his feet.

"Next time," she hissed, "I'll carve 'traitor' on your tombstone."

Magic Cube revved its engine in approval as they departed. Some humans, it concluded, deserved their apocalypse.

Chapter 52: Defiance Against the Dead