G.O.D Complex// Earth Prime

"Can this device record videos?" Linus asked calmly, cutting through the tension in the room as others argued about whether or not to negotiate with the approaching enemy.

"Ehmm... Yes, it can," Paul responded, his voice laced with uncertainty. He was clearly anxious about the situation and even more confused by Linus's request.

"Good. I'll need you to establish a secure line with my team outside the dome. There seems to be interference blocking our communication. Can you handle that?" Linus smiled, watching Paul nod in affirmation.

"Also," Linus continued, "help me record everyone's expressions. Edit the footage. Crop and arrange the video layout exactly how I instruct. We don't have much time."

Paul nodded again, though his mind raced. He barely understood half of what Linus had said. Terms like "editing" and "cropping" were foreign.

Linus caught his confusion. "Here, let me explain. It's called video editing. Humans in the former world used it to manipulate information and project specific narratives."

Paul's eyes widened with realization. "In this era, AI handles 90% of our operations. We simply issue verbal commands. The old ways... the knowledge of the former Earth... they're being lost."

"Exactly," Linus muttered. "Without context, even the simplest tools become forgotten relics."

Beatrice and the others watched in growing suspicion. Linus and Paul were speaking in hushed tones, tinkering with the communications system, and—strangely—taunting Beatrice just enough to get a recorded reaction.

Then Linus stood. "We'll be back. Wait here."

"Where are you going?" Charlotte demanded, her instincts bristling.

Paul just followed Linus, confused and sweating. They returned a minute later, Paul visibly shaken.

"We need to leave—now!" he yelled, panic thick in his voice.

"Why?!" Beatrice shouted, stepping forward.

Linus had already made contact with Nathalie and Petty.

"Get the ship into the tunnel. Stand by. If no one arrives in time—leave. Fly away. Don't wait."

Paul, realizing the implication, turned ghost-white. He had seen something... and the image haunted him.

Beatrice froze. "He did what?! You forced Paul to activate the star and left us behind?!"

Linus looked back, feigning surprise. "He was going to call you all anyway. Why would two people need to send one message?"

"This bastard," they all thought in unison.

On the dropship, Cross examined the interior layout. Joan approached him.

"Sir, Paul reported he reached the cargo ship."

Cross nodded and turned to Nathalie and Petty. "Your leader is... frightening."

"He's not our leader," Sebastian muttered, massaging his aching legs.

Nathalie simply nodded to Petty. "We're moving."

The dropship's engines roared to life. Light from its thrusters illuminated the dark, spiraling tunnel.

Bones littered the floor, but nobody said a word.

"Aren't we going to be spotted?" Benjamin asked nervously.

"Even so, we'll have covered enough ground by then," Paul explained aboard the other cargo ship.

"The radiation in the dome disrupts standard scans. Only deep scans can penetrate it—and they need to be launched externally."

Beatrice raised a brow. "Still... are you sure he'll fall for it?"

"He will," Linus said with a smirk. "He just needs to believe what he sees."

Paul turned toward the comms interface. "Requesting communication."

[REQUEST DENIED.]

"They're rejecting it!" Paul said, panic bubbling in his voice.

"Send it again," Linus replied, his tone calm. "If they don't respond, we're already dead."

[REQUEST ACCEPTED.]

The screen flickered to life. Linus leaned forward and softly whispered:

"Checkmate."

"So... it was pre-recorded," Rhys muttered from the bridge of the Lionhorn. "They're already gone. But they underestimated me. I can still track those suits."

Suddenly—

"Sir, abnormal energy signatures detected from the core!" cried an operator.

Rhys turned, eyes wide.

Vela's voice rang out softly. "I don't think they saw you as a threat."

Then everything went white.

Silence.

The kind that only precedes catastrophe.

A brilliant column of light shot into the sky.

Then, a mushroom of devastation.

An explosion that made hydrogen and nuclear bombs seem trivial by comparison.

BOOOOOM!!!

The ground trembled. The skies split. The Logia colony vanished beneath a tide of radiant destruction, its ruins swallowing a landmass twice the size of a small country.

Linus stood in the cargo ship, his grin wide. "Fascinating."

"Stop smiling and help! We're going to crash!" Luca screamed, wrestling the controls.

They had slipped away during the fake comms broadcast, escaping through the blind spot.

But the force of the shockwave caught them just as they hit the upper atmosphere.

The ship spiraled. They were falling—fast.

Babylonia Empire.

A fortress sunken into the land, surrounded by a moat-like pit filled with glimmering I-tech towers. Magnetic rings hovered in rotation, supporting an entire aerial city that expanded outward.

This was the peak of civilization.

A silver-armored king rose from his throne. "A new war brews..."

A soldier kneeled at the entrance, red-haired with a hideous scar. "A colony has fallen, my lord."

"I felt it," the king said. "Mobilize everyone."

"As you wish."

He turned back to the glass, watching the empire pulse with life. "The time of peace has ended. The balance is broken."

Other colonies—Bethlehem, Erewhon, and the remnants of Bipedal Empires—also stirred.

They had felt it too.

Teilvel Empire.

Within the Castellian Room, six seats surrounded a marble table. Five were filled. One—Rhys's—sat empty.

"So much for handling things quietly," sneered a man sipping wine.

A woman laughed into her hand, her voice like that of a villainess from old romance games. "He must've felt so embarrassed in his final moments."

Another woman stood, adjusting her glasses. Her purple hair was cut to neck length, and her suit was pressed with military precision.

"The balance has shattered," she said. "There'll be a meeting of the colonies. Those scavengers will take this chance to spark conflict."

Next to her sat a woman in a scarlet dress, seductive and silent. She swirled her wine slowly.

"Do something about it, H," the woman in red whispered.

The woman in the suit—H—nodded. "All board members prepare. Teilvel will open for business."

War was on the horizon.

To be continued...