Cosmic Snowstorm
Farewell, Earth!
Aboard the space battleship Leviathan, we set course for Iscandar!
That was the thought I held close to my chest as we charged, full of swagger, into the world beyond the gate…
And yet, the moment we emerged on the other side—
“Communications with the homeland severed. Just as expected so far…”
“Oh.”
“Whoa… it’s pretty, ya.”
We watched as pure white or silver-gleaming nanomachines drifted toward the Leviathan like falling snow.
Of course, had we been aboard any ordinary vessel, the sight before us would have been no different from a bacterium’s-eye view of white blood cells closing in for the kill.
But with the Leviathan’s armor and shields, it’s no different from real snow.
Countless experiments had already proven those nanomachines could inflict zero damage on the ship we rode. So the crew—scattered across the bridge and every corner of the vessel—gazed at the nanomachines shattering against the hull and thought only of how beautiful they were.
…Never mind that mere moments earlier we had watched those same “beautiful” nanomachines form a mass-slaughter fleet in battle. Somehow that made the whole thing feel a little off.
At any rate, suddenly feeling as though we were plowing through a blizzard in the void of space, we prepared to press onward.
But then—
“Nooooooooooooo!!!!”
-Flinch!
A scream thick with despair and bitter regret ripped through the air. I jerked, tension flooding every muscle.
What now? Did something go wrong coming out of the Warp Gate?!
Yet from the Throne I sat upon, not a single warning signal had arrived.
Wondering what on earth was happening, I was about to demand a status report from Riel beside me when—
“Waaah! BXGW-1654!!! Don’t abandon your mother like this!!”
“…”
The instant I realized who was screaming, I felt like an absolute idiot for tensing up at all.
It was clearly someone making a huge fuss over nothing. I let out a quiet sigh and asked,
“Levia, Riel—what exactly is she carrying on about?”
I directed the question at Levia, the ship’s biological core and administrator. She turned toward me with a posture even more robotic than Riel’s and reported in a tone just as flat and emotionless.
“It’s nothing major. The equipment she installed on my outer hull without authorization is being chewed apart by the nanomachines the moment we entered this space.”
“…”
“Nooooo!!!! ANX-977! That’s a Zaknor-type energy converter!!!”
Behind us, Minister Vermouth and the entire Technology and Science Ministry staff were weeping tears of blood and thrashing about. Watching the chaos, I felt an emotion I couldn’t quite put into words.
Then a dangerous thought suddenly flashed through my mind.
Wait a second. If everything except the Leviathan itself is getting eaten… what about our cloaking gear?
I didn’t care about the rest.
Whatever that Zaknor-type whatever-it-was, or the extra armor and turrets the Ministry of Defense had bolted on in a fit of pure brainlessness so they could use the ship as the Empire’s flagship once we returned—those were things the Leviathan could replace on its own anytime.
Besides, we had known from the start that none of that junk would be useful here.
But the cloaking system was another story entirely.
If the Sevelian Empire’s pride and joy—the cloaking system—got chewed to useless scrap by the nanomachines, what would become of us?
Even setting aside the nanomachine dust swirling around us like a blizzard, those countless nanomachine fleets in the far background, heading toward the battlefield beyond the gate, would swing their gun barrels straight at us in an instant.
The moment that thought landed, cold sweat trickled down my spine.
But Levia shook her head left and right as if to reject the idea outright.
“That system is installed inside the hull, so the situation you are imagining, Minister… sir, will not occur.”
“Hmm… is that so?”
Coming from Levia—who was essentially the Leviathan itself—I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a little.
Indeed, right before our eyes only the Sevelian-made extra armor and turrets were vanishing. The original hull of the Leviathan remained completely untouched, not a single mark left behind.
Of course, relief or not, Minister Vermouth and her mad-scientist crew were still wailing at the top of their lungs…
“Riel, go politely escort them somewhere out of the way.”
“Yes, sir.”
We decided to use Riel and the Purge Squad to relocate our continuously sniveling mad scientists to a quiet corner of the Leviathan.
Things had gotten noisy right from the start, but this expedition—two ministers, assorted special forces, technicians, and an ancient superweapon—hadn’t come all this way for a picnic.
We put the brief uproar behind us and immediately began proper navigation.
Before long, the Leviathan came face-to-face with the first planet we had discovered during our previous exploration of this space…
“Hey, Minister, take a look at that planet over there, ya!”
“…What the hell is that.”
“Ooooh…”
The moment we laid eyes on that “planet”—no, that “fortress”—every one of us lost the power of speech and simply stared, dumbfounded.
As if to confirm that our shock—mine especially—was perfectly justified, a vicious string of event text suddenly filled my vision and blocked my sight.
Fortress of Annihilation
The planet once covered in nanomachines and reduced to a Gray Goo state has, upon this reunion, twisted into a form far too grotesque.
Its surface, blanketed in silver-gleaming nanomachines, had once vaguely resembled a metallic ocean world.
Now the shape before you is far too warped and distorted to still be called a “planet.”
One thing is certain: when facing that planet—no, that “fortress”—mistakes will not be tolerated.
[PAUSED]
Choice 1: That is their forward base. Attack! (Linked Event Progress)
Choice 2: We cannot face it right now. Detour. (Linked Event Progress)
Just as the event message explained, the thing we had once regarded as a planet had transformed into a planet-sized space fortress.
More precisely, it was a planet-sized space fortress that was also clearly functioning as a colossal shipyard.
Its appearance alone was so extraordinary that it contributed heavily to the collapse of our collective mental state.
Everything around the equator—except the north and south poles—had been excavated all the way down to the mantle, then packed with unidentifiable facilities and city-sized naval guns. Nanomachine fleets were being born one after another from the surface and the crust’s interior, popping free like water droplets leaping from a pond.
In a cosmos already overflowing with the unreal, this was the single most unreal sight I had ever witnessed.
And with the choices popping up on top of it, I nearly slipped into full panic…
But as always, time was the one thing in abundant supply during a pause.
After roughly three days of subjective dithering while I clawed my mental state back together—
Right. There’s no way we can take that thing head-on.
Choice 2: We cannot face it right now. Detour. (Linked Event Progress)
[SELECTED]
Objectively and subjectively, it was the only choice anyone in their right mind would make.
[PAUSE LIFTED]
I immediately lifted the pause and addressed everyone on the bridge and throughout the ship.
“We will not engage that bizarre planetary fortress. All personnel, remain at your stations and do not act rashly!”
“Minister, that’s a real good idea, ya.”
Everyone nodded vigorously in agreement, as if they had been waiting for exactly that order.
Even the most bloodthirsty war-maniacs needed a fight that was at least theoretically winnable. Charging something that overwhelmingly superior wasn’t courage anymore—it was pure recklessness and arrogance.
Besides, in game terms this was only the first-round boss. No need to waste strength. With that little mental victory under my belt, I decided we would simply slip past the grotesque space fortress without drawing its attention and move on to the next star system.
But then—
“Ah, just so you are aware: even though this vessel employs the Empire’s stealth systems… if we approach that fortress beyond a certain distance, we will be detected without fail.”
“…Hm?”
“What’s the worry, ya? We can just openly detour around it, can’t we?”
We all tilted our heads at Levia’s emotionless statement, puzzled.
As Riel said, couldn’t we simply go around?
But then—
“Strange. In order for this vessel to reach the hyperspace jump route leading to the next planetary system, we must pass in the immediate vicinity of that base.”
At Levia’s next words, I felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to scream at the universe itself: Stop screwing me over!