A month is not a long period.
But in such a tense environment, a single day felt like an entire year.
When the month concluded, the surrounding cleanup efforts had entered their midway phase, yielding no new significant discoveries.
Meanwhile, Luna tasked Ayla with conducting a detailed survey of Proxima Centauri. This revealed that only a narrow passage existed between Proxima Centauri b and Proxima Centauri c.
Outside this passage, the Civilization on Proxima Centauri b would not venture. Even their warships remained positioned in the outer planetary regions; beyond 0.1 AU from the planet, the space was completely vacant.
"This Civilization is like an ant that has been drawn into a circle."
"Although it can perceive and even reach beyond that circle, the scent of the ink repels and frightens it, causing it to remain perpetually within this boundary."
This was Luna's assessment of this particular Civilization.
"Ayla, what is your estimation for this Civilization's tier?"
Through a month of continuous observation, they had successfully gathered more actionable intelligence.
This estimation was based on ship velocity, potential energy utilization efficiency, development rate, and a comprehensive evaluation of various complex factors.
"Approximately Tier 1.8."
"That is an exceedingly powerful Civilization, one that has possibly developed for tens of thousands of years."
"Judging by the sheer number of vessels, it must also possess an incredibly vast population, totaling at least 10 billion or more."
Strictly speaking, Luna's current fleet, combined with the shared Multi-eyed technology, would only reach Tier 1.7 after an estimated 100 years of further development.
This Civilization was far superior in strength to Luna's present capabilities.
Originally, Luna had prepared to execute an immediate tactical withdrawal.
But after discerning this Civilization's peculiar behavioral characteristic, she opted to observe for a while longer.
"We can also simulate the exterior appearance of this Civilization's vessels."
"We need to penetrate this Civilization's interior core and gather intelligence regarding its structure."
...
Half a month later, a vessel with a square frontal section and dozens of independent tubular thrusters positioned at the rear—resembling an iron jellyfish—traveled toward the target Civilization.
After 40 days of travel, it reached the space just outside Proxima Centauri c.
It was utterly destroyed before it could even approach proximity.
Almost two days later, the passage between Proxima Centauri b and Proxima Centauri c was sealed shut.
The faint, dark glow emanating from the planet vanished, causing the defensive warships stationed in space around the two planets to begin powering down their systems as well.
On the third day.
A mechanical spider, approximately half a meter in diameter, landed in a desolate area on Proxima Centauri c. All around were dilapidated industrial refuse heaps, where hundreds of automated robots were actively processing this waste material.
Because of the Civilization's sustained presence, the planet wasn't as frigid as it should have been naturally; it had been rendered habitable after a large quantity of greenhouse gases was intentionally introduced.
The robots lacked any semblance of human appearance, possessing only simple, square-box exteriors, from which two mechanical arms extended to grasp the refuse.
They maintained altitude using electromagnetic force, capable of handling precise calculations for objects weighing several tons.
The mechanical spider leaped onto one of the refuse-processing robots, squeezing through an exterior crevice to enter its chassis. It then accessed the robot's core components for immediate modification.
The refuse robot abruptly dropped from the air, as if suffering a critical malfunction.
No living beings paid any attention; the remaining robots continued processing their assigned tasks. These machines clearly lacked sophisticated intelligence.
After the mechanical spider completed its work on an internal circuit board within the refuse robot, it extracted the robot's main control chip and soldered it onto the modified board.
The refuse robot began its awakening sequence. It immediately disassembled the observation mechanical spider into countless tiny parts, mixing them thoroughly with the surrounding trash. Then, it seamlessly resumed working like the other refuse-processing robots.
This covert operation continued for a full week.
The modified refuse robot slowly approached the perimeter of the entire dumping ground.
It observed the indigenous lifeforms of this world.
Their bodies were bulky, standing about two and a half meters tall, covered in rough, rock-like skin. They possessed three pairs of rhino-like horns protruding from their heads. Their robust frames were positioned parallel to the ground, similar to Earth's quadrupedal animals, lacking any tail structure. Their bodies were not extended horizontally, appearing somewhat squat.
However, their front torso featured a large, tumor-like head, studded with 10 pairs of bone spikes. The head, over half a meter in diameter, possessed only a single eye, slightly larger than a human eye. Vision did not seem to be their primary sensory input.
From their shoulders sprouted a pair of auxiliary limbs restricted to grasping functions. Their true primary manipulators were four flexible tentacles growing directly from their chin area.
These creatures resembled mythical monsters, yet they were undeniably the dominant masters of this planet.
Like the Multi-eyed, their appearance existed at the very extreme edge of conventional human aesthetics.
Their mouths were the most human-like feature of their bodies, equipped with praying mantis-like fangs and suckers. The four flexible tentacles seemed to serve as auxiliary feeders around the mouth, but through evolution, they had assumed more primary functional roles.
The observation robot carefully analyzed the sounds these creatures emitted. Contrary to their imposing appearances, their vocalizations were incredibly rhythmic, gentle, and possessed high penetration.
Moreover, they operated entirely within the ultrasonic range, reaching high frequencies that the human ear could not possibly perceive.
None of these intelligent creatures noticed that a robot amidst the trash heap was diligently observing them.
They moved about with purpose, as if their complex society possessed a very high degree of organization.
The robot collected this comprehensive intelligence, then transmitted it as focused light signals into space. Finally, this data was received and meticulously analyzed by Ayla.
"Light can transmit far more complex information than sound waves."
"Through analysis, I have successfully mastered this Civilization's language. I will now translate it for you, Luna."
Luna lay reclining on a massage chair, enjoying the therapeutic action of the chair's robotic arms.
Ayla broadcasted the acquired information.
"Did you hear? We discovered traces of an alien Civilization and shot down one of its vessels."
"Nonsense. I was in the vicinity then; that vessel merely deviated from its established orbit due to an unforeseen accident."
"That was merely an alien Civilization attempting to mimic our ships, purely for the sake of blending in with us."
"Are there genuinely alien Civilizations out there?"
"The universe is immensely vast; how could we possibly be the sole Civilization? Others must exist."
"If superior Civilizations exist, we must conceal ourselves meticulously, ensuring they never discover us."
"No, has a higher Civilization discovered us already? What actions will they take?"
"Do not panic. The high command hasn't released any definitive information yet. Perhaps it was simply a misunderstanding."
"Based on current established theory, the universe functions as a battlefield. All Civilizations are inherently hostile towards one another. Like us, they all hide. If one Civilization is detected, a higher Civilization will certainly not tolerate a lower one; it will deploy weaponry to annihilate it directly."
"That is correct. As long as we continue to remain concealed, we will not be discovered by alien Civilizations. We are still too weak at present. We must develop, continuously develop to the absolute extreme…"
Within these declarations, Luna felt a familiar sensation stirring within her.
"Dark forest hypothesis?"
Ayla nodded.
"Indeed, this Civilization seems to have been carefully developing, intentionally avoiding discovery and subsequent destruction by alien Civilizations."
"Their retraction of warships to the planet's surface and their earlier cautious reactions were largely driven by this shared conviction."
Luna felt a wondrous sensation wash over her.
It was as if fiction and reality had finally merged. There is a saying that truly rings true: reality is often stranger than fiction.
She smiled.
"Ayla, perhaps we have the opportunity to conquer this Civilization."
The Dark Forest Hypothesis is a derivative concept stemming from the Fermi Paradox.
Its core premise is that survival remains the absolute primary concern of any Civilization; everything in the universe is finite, and Civilizations must continuously expand and grow.
Thus, inherent conflict between Civilizations across the universe is inevitable. To secure greater resources, one must necessarily encroach upon other Civilizations.
Furthermore, genuine communication between Civilizations is incredibly challenging. This concept of 'those not of my kind possess different internal motives' suggests that Civilizations in the universe find it exceedingly difficult to extend goodwill toward one another.
With everything Luna had personally witnessed, the universe, in her perspective, closely mirrored the tenets of the Dark Forest Hypothesis.
This was precisely analogous to their prior conflict with the Multi-eyed.
The Multi-eyed initiated the attack first because they were incapable of accurately assessing the implications of the Hope Ship's arrival in their Sector.
They had no way of confirming whether Luna harbored hostile intent toward their Civilization.
Crucially, they also could not judge whether Luna believed they harbored ill will toward Luna herself.
In situations where accurate judgment is impossible, the most pragmatic course of action becomes striking first to prevent being preempted by the supposed enemy.
The Multi-eyed's development trajectory also showed a radically different pace compared to humans, which further supported another key tenet of the Dark Forest Hypothesis: technological explosion.
Despite all this evidence.
Luna herself did not entirely endorse the Dark Forest Hypothesis.
One of the most significant points of contention was: "Once a set of coordinates is exposed, regardless of whether a Civilization still exists at that precise location, it will inevitably face indiscriminate attacks."
For instance, if the Milky Way hosted 1 million Civilizations, and one Civilization's coordinates were broadcast, 900,000 might opt to observe passively, 90,000 might choose to cautiously investigate, but there will inevitably be Civilizations that choose a different response: launching swift, indiscriminate assaults toward the revealed location.
Under this premise, the Dark Forest Hypothesis holds true: all Civilizations in the universe strive for absolute concealment, like hunters lurking in a dense forest.
But regarding developmental progression, a Type 1 Civilization cannot definitively confirm if the external world operates within a Dark Forest structure. Just like those 10,000 Civilizations that choose aggression, there will inevitably be Civilizations that opt for reckless, rapid expansion. Such Civilizations would certainly not be scarce.
The fastest speed attainable in the universe is the speed of light. If a Civilization, after 10,000 years of continuous observation, detects no other Civilizations within a 100 light-year radius, can it then utilize the next 100 years to expand into nearby star systems?
Moreover, if a supreme Civilization exists within a local universe, and this Civilization can no longer detect any entity more advanced than itself within its local domain, then to advance further, they must breach the boundaries of their local universe and observe beyond it. And if achieving this breakthrough necessitates integrating the entire energy output of that universe, would the Dark Forest scenario then become unsustainable?
Within this hypothesized dark forest, there might not only be hunters and prey, but also friendly donkeys attempting to light signal fires, quarrelsome old tigers, hawks circling high above the canopy, mice who mistakenly believe they remain undiscovered, and even Civilizations like the Trisolarans, forced into migration due to dire environmental constraints.
How, then, could the Dark Forest model remain the dominant reality?
The Dark Forest Hypothesis conveniently bypasses these complexities, locking Civilizations into an extreme state: hidden predators versus exposed targets.
However, Luna also could not outright dismiss the possibility that the Dark Forest Hypothesis was false.
Because the Dark Forest Hypothesis itself relies on purely deductive reasoning to reach its conclusions.
As she observed, she currently perceived a universe not teeming with life and conflict, but one characterized by profound, silent tranquility.
Yet, within a mere 4-light-year journey, she had already encountered two high-level Civilizations.
Luna remained unconcerned whether the Dark Forest Hypothesis was empirically correct or flawed.
Because she possessed ample time to verify what this universe was truly like for herself.
The only aspect Luna found genuinely amusing was the Civilization that completely and faithfully adhered to the Dark Forest Hypothesis.
By prioritizing self-concealment, such a Civilization inherently minimizes its capacity for external detection. In such a scenario, if a true cosmic disruptor did exist, one possessing asymmetrical information, this concealed Civilization could only expose its neck and await destruction.
If Civilizations are hunters, they will also experience hunger, fatigue, confusion, and impatience.
They will inevitably desire to confirm whether, behind that distant cluster of trees, the enemy they imagine truly resides.
Therefore, hunters do not only wait for prey; they can also proactively initiate attacks.
While a Civilization strives its utmost to remain concealed, it must simultaneously remain acutely aware of whether there are any observing eyes within this forest watching, monitoring their every move.
Luna termed this specific type of Civilization the "Observer."
It could be a supreme Civilization, or perhaps one of those 90,000 Civilizations that couldn't resist the urge to investigate. Among those 90,000, 89,000 found nothing of interest, but 1,000 Civilizations succeeded in detecting the target Civilization. These would then lurk, observe, drool, and stare.
And right now, Luna positioned herself as the Observer of the Civilization on Proxima Centauri b.
Moreover, this Observer had begun preparing to enjoy the impending feast.
"Ayla, is the construction complete?"
Fifty years had elapsed since the detailed survey of the Proxima Centauri b Civilization commenced.
During these five decades, Luna had tasked Ayla with a single, critical objective.
Gathering matter from surrounding asteroids to construct a specific object.
"It's complete, Luna!"
Ayla's reply was accompanied by an image of the finished construction.
It was a colossal monstrosity. The Hope Ship appeared minuscule in comparison.
It stood approximately 27,300 meters tall and 5,439 meters in diameter—a massive cylindrical tower, reminiscent of the mythical Tower of Babel from ancient Babylonian legends.
Indeed.
This was the Tower of Babel.
It represented the pinnacle of Ayla's current technological achievements, externally clad in alloys designed by the Light-based Civilization, while its internal core integrated both light-based technology and True Antimatter technology, further reinforced with the largest type of magnetic shield available.
It heavily utilized [virtual reality technology] and 3D projection capabilities.
It served as a grand challenge tower. To reach its uppermost floor, one needed to enter from the base and successfully battle through 200 distinct levels to the very summit.
"Based on your observations, does the Civilization on Proxima Centauri b possess the capability to breach its defenses?"
Ayla was brimming with confidence.
"This Civilization's energy sources are actually quite similar to human Civilization's; it has not developed photon or quark-level particle weaponry."
"We have infused 90% of the Antimatter accumulated over these years into the Tower of Babel. Even if this Civilization bombards it with its entire arsenal, the Tower can withstand 7 to 10 Earth days."
"Combined with the strategic plan you devised, Luna, the operation can be made entirely watertight. In my simulations, the success rate reaches as high as 84.25%."
Luna frowned slightly.
She felt this probability was insufficient.
"Wait a while longer."
"Initiate the procedure once the success probability hits 90%."
"The other component of the plan can begin execution immediately."
Ayla nodded vigorously, giving Luna a crisp salute.
"Understood, Captain!"
Since emerging from the virtual realm, Ayla had become notably more agile, occasionally displaying an inexplicable, almost manic intensity.
Luna did not outwardly react to this change but focused intently on the data she had received.
The latest transmitted message indicated:
That robot had successfully begun hacking into the Proxima Centauri Civilization's information network, concurrently broadcasting massive amounts of news regarding an imminent invasion by a superior Civilization, and forecasting the descent of a towering structure.
This information did not become prominent within the target Civilization; it failed to attract any specialized attention.
However, its widespread dissemination meant that a large volume of Proxima Centauri b lifeforms had seen the data, which was precisely the effect Luna intended to achieve.
"This is a conquest achieved without the shedding of blood."
Having spent so much time within the virtual world, Luna had matured significantly in her strategic thinking.
Especially by assuming the role of a queen in that simulated reality, it furnished her with vastly enriched experience and expertise.
She learned precisely how to leverage information and psychological manipulation, rather than overt violence, in combat scenarios.
...
In fact.
This was indeed the Tower of Babel.
In ancient Babylonian history, its name also signified the "Gate of God."
In the Bible, the Tower of Babel was a towering structure built by humanity, aspiring to reach Heaven. To curb this ambition, God intervened by causing humans to speak different languages and utilize disparate scripts, rendering communication impossible and leading directly to the multitude of races and nations in the world.
This colossal tower remained unfinished, only built halfway.
However, in the year 4819 A.D.
Ayla managed to complete the construction of the Tower of Babel within a span of 70 years.
This tower was directed towards Proxima Centauri b. Its exterior, structured like the shell of a conch, featured intricate spiraling patterns. The entire outer layer resembled a vast silver mirror, dazzling light radiating from countless illusory windows, presenting a spectacle both sacred and majestic.
Almost immediately upon approaching 30 AU from Proxima Centauri, the Proxima Centauri Civilization detected this colossal object.
The entirety of the Civilization plunged into immediate pandemonium.
They feared that the alien Civilization had indeed arrived at their doorstep.
The Civilization's leaders convened an emergency session, deliberating for days to formulate a viable response.
Attack!
They would exhaust every available resource to destroy that approaching vessel.
Almost concurrently, images of the ship rapidly disseminated throughout this Civilization. Some entities were stunned upon first observing the vessel's appearance.
"Powerful hunters do not conceal themselves; rather, they view their surroundings as their personal hunting ground."
"One day, the object of Civilization's collective dread finally arrived: a silver-white tower emanating an intense, sacred light."
"Whether it carries goodwill or malice remains unknown, but the solitary tower suspended in space will neither attack nor suffer destruction. It extends an invitation, opening its doors to entrants."
"At its apex rests a Civilization's supreme treasure. Through rigorous trials, it can be attained. Is it a boon bestowed by Civilization or a poison delivered by Civilization? It waits there, ready to be claimed."
"The individual who harvests this treasure will become the envoy of the superior Civilization, possessing supreme and unparalleled authority, commanding mighty and unmatched power, and capable of enabling their own Civilization to achieve a dramatic leap forward. That person becomes a hero of the Civilization, achieving immortality across generations."
This was the information that had been circulating across this Civilization's information network for decades.
No one had paid it any serious heed.
It was simply viewed as informational content designed to provide emotional satisfaction, much like any other prophecy.
But when the tangible reality materialized before them, this specific information disseminated throughout the Civilization at a speed a thousand, even ten thousand times faster than it had days prior.
Soon, the high command stepped forward to issue a public denial of the rumors.
"This phenomenon is merely a coincidence."
"We possess hundreds, even thousands, of such speculative prophecies. No matter the nature of our encounters with alien Civilizations, one of them will eventually align with such descriptions."
"We have already mobilized the entirety of our Civilization's weaponry, intending to annihilate it."
"We cannot submit or retreat, otherwise, the inevitable outcome awaiting us is the complete demise of our Civilization."
"In the vast universe, not a single trace of us will remain. We evolved over hundreds of millions of years, culminating in Civilization after tens of millions of years of collective advancement. We should not face such a conclusion."
"Now, we act as a spear, piercing the throat of the enemy's advance scout, forcing the enemy to hesitate, to instill fear."
The fierce declaration still resonated within their collective memory.
Days later, a large contingent of warships was deployed.
The largest flagship was a perfect sphere, bearing a resemblance to the 'Heart of Gold' from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, though significantly larger, with a diameter measuring 10,000 meters—effectively a miniature planet.
Following behind it was a massive thruster assembly, 2 km in diameter, powered by dark matter kinetic energy.
Dark matter was first theorized on Earth as early as 1922 A.D.
In the wider universe, dark matter likely accounts for 85% of the total mass composition, with visible matter constituting only 15%.
This concept arose from the hypothesis that the movement of celestial bodies did not conform strictly to Newton's law of universal gravitation, remaining purely theoretical until humanity's demise in 2037.
However, having genuinely ventured into space, Ayla could confirm that dark matter undeniably existed. It possessed mass, was incapable of reaching the speed of light, interacted minimally with visible light, engaging almost exclusively in gravitational interactions, and did not participate in electromagnetic or strong nuclear forces.
Dark matter is inherently extremely stable and notoriously difficult to detect.
This type of matter differs fundamentally from the observable matter we know; it appears inert throughout the universe.
Dark matter is characterized as inert matter, participating only through the weak interaction force, and that interaction occurs at an extremely faint level, barely registering even with quarks.
Ayla hypothesized that dark matter only reacted with strings, and this remained purely speculative because Ayla's current technology had not yet reached the capability to directly detect strings.
Closest in nature to dark matter is the inert neutrino, although the inert neutrino is still significantly "stronger" when compared to true dark matter.
Although dark matter is incredibly inert and only interacts gravitationally at macroscopic dimensions.
However, dark matter itself can release large amounts of energy through decay. Furthermore, due to its abundant existence in the universe, it is a rich resource that can also be generated through matter separation and fusion. This grants it the conditions necessary to serve as an energy source.
It is simply that utilizing dark matter energy is extremely difficult, even more so than antimatter energy. Only Civilizations at a very high technological level can effectively detect and harness dark matter as an energy source.
The Proxima Centauri Civilization is one such entity.
However, they remain in a relatively rudimentary stage of dark matter utilization.
The ships of the Proxima Centauri b Civilization were incredibly bulky.
Their Civilization's development never necessitated long-distance space travel; they had no such need, and consequently, never developed that capability.
Nothing is likely to be gained purely from theory; a Civilization that has experienced space travel will inevitably possess superior long-distance travel capabilities compared to one that has not.
The ship launched and flew towards the tall tower.
The enormous vessel's speed was a mere 1584 km/s, which would naturally outpace Luna's previous electromagnetic propulsion, but Luna's current fleet had long since switched to more advanced propulsion systems.
...
21 days later, the ship reached a position 10 AU from the tall tower.
This was the effective range at which this Civilization's weaponry could strike.
The entire front section of the spherical ship began to split like flower petals into six separate modules. These modules were not connected to the main hull but flew out as independent craft to approximately 50 km away from the spherical ship.
Above and below, left and right, they arranged themselves to form a vast semicircle with a diameter of 110 km.
The central vessel began to emit intense light, and six small bolts of lightning, each at least 100 meters wide, began to arc across the six separated sections.
These lightning arcs formed a luminous circle in space, appearing from afar like an elaborate magic circle, unleashing terrifying power.
After the energy reached its zenith, the Captain inside the ship bellowed: "Fire!!"
No observable matter was released.
Just like when Luna fired Antimatter at the Multi-eyed planet, when the opposing Civilization lacked the necessary detection equipment for Antimatter, the "projectiles" fired by the Antimatter weapons were completely invisible to this Civilization.
Dark matter energy surged towards the Tower of Babel at 99.28% the speed of light.
"Our Civilization is sacred and inviolable! Any Civilization's object daring to enter our homeland will be utterly destroyed!"
The Captain's chin tentacles quivered, and the front two pairs of its three sets of legs lifted, stomping heavily twice on the ship's floor.
The 3,000-plus soldiers inside the ship also roared, performing the identical action. This seemed to be a kind of exhilarating ritual in this Civilization, akin to how Earth humans raise their fists above their heads.
The distance of 10 AU would take 84 minutes to cover.
There were no visual screens inside the ship. However, their bodies had been cybernetically modified, and information was directly transmitted to their central nervous systems, allowing them to perceive images directly in their minds without needing to rely on sight.
They waited.
168 minutes later.
They witnessed the terrifying dark matter bomb strike the Tower of Babel. The detonation released a large quantity of high-energy photons, which scattered outwards, forming a colossal light cluster spanning 1000 km in diameter.
The next moment, this light cluster collapsed, rapidly condensing into a large-particle, low-energy entity. This energy entity then underwent another explosion.
This process repeated six times before this attack was truly deemed complete.
The cumulative energy released across these six bursts was approximately 2.7 quadrillion tons of TNT equivalent.
"This is our victory! Our first encounter with an alien Civilization's attack, and we held fast in our home."
The Captain shouted again. To this Civilization, its ship was comparable to a 20th-21st century human nuclear-powered aircraft carrier carrying nuclear warheads.
The dark matter energy cannon was their Civilization's most powerful weapon.
Under equivalent mass conditions, its destructive yield was 1700 times stronger than a fission nuclear bomb. Although there was still a certain gap compared to Antimatter Annihilation's 2222 times multiplier, it was not far off. One must remember they only possessed the lowest-level dark matter utilization technology.
This demonstrated that the potential of high-energy dark matter fuel might ultimately surpass Antimatter Annihilation.
The Captain had already turned around, triumphant.
But the data streams received in its mind instantly froze its excitement.
After the blinding light, comparable to staring directly at a star in space, dispersed, the tall tower still stood, towering. It appeared completely unharmed, as if the explosion had never occurred.
"How is this possible?"
It was akin to humans using a 100-megaton hydrogen bomb to obliterate a city—the bomb detonates, yet the entire city, without even a speck of plaster disturbed on a single building's surface, remains untouched.
This scenario, after another 168 minutes, was transmitted back to Proxima Centauri b.
Complete silence.
Even though the eloquent speeches of the Civilization's high command were still connected in their minds, the entire world fell into absolute silence.
At this moment, no entity believed the high command's initial broadcasts might just be a recording; they lost their composure and were gripped by terror.
Countless beings rushed into the resource distribution centers, initiating a frantic panic buying spree.
Armageddon!
This was the clear omen of the apocalypse.
Within their information network, some of their kind began to actively propagate fear.
This didn't even require Ayla's intervention. High-level Civilization organisms inherently possess high intelligence, and high intelligence inherently implies super high complexity.
This complexity gives rise to various distinct thoughts and entities. Some entities will feel fear and strive to conceal themselves, others will seek to vent their terror, and still others will desire comfort from their peers...
Was it similar to the Zerg's collective consciousness in "StarCraft"?
The answer, emphatically, was a 0.047% probability.
A collective consciousness inherently lacks one thing: the rich and vastly divergent imagination of individuals.
Imagination is an exceptionally valuable resource, especially within high-level Civilizations. Why did Luna choose to conquer the Multi-eyed instead of simply destroying them, even when she already possessed a highly intelligent individual like Ayla?
Because Ayla's computational capacity is not infinite. She might calculate one hundred billion scenarios, while the billion-plus beings of the Multi-eyed can collectively generate tens of billions of similar yet distinct scenarios.
As long as no single entity, machine, or other construct possesses infinite computational or intellectual power, biological imagination remains an incredibly precious resource.
Civilizations possessing this resource are significantly more likely to ascend to higher Civilizations than those that do not.
And Luna's Tower of Babel plan leveraged this very principle.
Just as in mythology, God divided humanity through language.
Luna, at this moment, utilized the diverse thinking of individuals to segment and exert control over an entire Civilization.
Amidst the terrifying spread of information.
Many entities simultaneously noticed that the information account which had originally announced the tower's descent released a new piece of data. Almost instantly upon its dissemination, viewership surpassed 100 million, and it was accelerating at a rate of 10 million per second.
"The tall tower is not a weapon to destroy Civilization, but rather a Civilization's Pass."
"Civilization possesses malice, and naturally, it also possesses goodwill. Goodwill is not altruism, but rather a form of highly specialized cooperation."
"Annihilation is inferior to integration. Civilization perhaps harvests the imagination of sentient beings as a core resource; every entity possessing high intelligence is a rare commodity."
"Based on this standard, the universe may not be a dark forest, but a stable Galactic Federation composed of numerous Civilizations."
"Only Civilizations that receive the Civilization's Pass are qualified to offer their own imagination, and to utilize the imagination derived from other Civilizations within the Federation…"
Within each line of text, a breathtaking cosmic perspective was being hypothesized.
No energy-based entity could deny it. Just as Luna could not deny the Dark Forest Hypothesis, these theories contained powerful logical connections. Unless one could personally observe the true cosmic Civilization landscape, any refutation would seem weak compared to these conjectures.
And these theoretical insights only required one crucial confirmation.
That confirmation was the Tower of Babel not launching an attack!
An object that refrains from aggression is inherently not a Civilization harboring malice, which would push the "resource theory of imagination" immediately to the forefront.
"This is that Civilization's calculated conspiracy!"
A piece of information surfaced directly in the minds of all Proxima Centauri beings.
It originated from the high command.
Because it couldn't possibly be such a profound coincidence that a prophecy perfectly foretold the tower's arrival, and then facilitated universal acceptance of this Civilization.
Even if it were merely a random existing prophecy, the high command absolutely needed to disseminate that message.
Because they could not yet definitively predict the malice of the tall tower Civilization. As the passive respondent, they could not be the first party to extend goodwill. Doing so would place their Civilization in an immediate disadvantageous position.
This was potentially fatal. In warfare, one incorrect decision can lead to the collapse of an entire army.
And on the Civilization battlefield, even the slightest miscalculation can result in a Civilization's demise.
"Why don't we test it?"
"Agreed!"
"Perhaps a soldier unit could be dispatched to investigate."
The lower strata of the Civilization would not contemplate such risks, because what they could perceive was simply darkness anyway. If both paths ahead were shrouded in mist, they would naturally choose the safer option.
These sentiments would certainly be conveyed, but the high command retained the final decision-making authority. Precisely because of this critical position, the high command remained the high command; they needed to render judgments based on logic rather than raw emotion.
A large fleet began its deployment sequence.
Their nerves were taut, bracing for a massive confrontation.
A total of 700 warships halted at the position where the original spherical vessel had stopped, aligning themselves in formation.
The warships began unleashing their munitions indiscriminately toward the Tower of Babel.
Countless energy impacts hammered against the Tower of Babel's magnetic shield.
Antimatter was consumed at a terrifying pace.
On the other side, aboard a fleet concealed behind a small asteroid, Luna watched the gradually decreasing numerical readouts on her screen.
"In one day, 18.7% of the energy has been depleted. The destructive firepower is significantly stronger than your initial projection."
Ayla's prior estimation assumed a week-long bombardment, implying a daily reduction of 14.28%. However, the Proxima Centauri Civilization's current firepower output was 23.64% higher than she had calculated.
"That's acceptable. After all, we cannot completely dictate the quantity or energy metrics of this Civilization's weaponry."
"This falls within an expected margin of error."
Ayla's calculation was, in fact, remarkably close.
But it remained, ultimately, only a calculation.
No one could guarantee that this Civilization would not sustain the bombardment for six full days. If they did, the Tower of Babel would exhaust its reserve energy and be forced to rely solely on its outer shell to withstand the Antimatter impact.
Luna appeared perfectly composed.
"They will not be able to sustain bombardment for that many days."
"This constitutes an enormous drain on their resources. Internal dissent will gradually gain the upper hand. This Civilization's high command consists of living beings, not mere machines. As sentient beings, they will naturally waver; they will hesitate."
Luna had, in fact, already prepared her contingency plan for withdrawal.
If conquest proved infeasible, retreat and target other objectives.
For her current state, this outcome was not a catastrophe; it merely represented the loss of over 300 years of carefully invested time.
She waited, her gaze never leaving the display screen. The cabin was utterly silent.
The second day...
The third day...
Time ticked by, moment by moment.
It was only on the fourth day that the scale of the firepower finally decreased by 10%.
A smile finally graced Luna's face.
"Dark matter is an incredibly difficult substance to accumulate. This opposing Civilization's dark matter reserves might not be as abundant as we presumed."
"Of course, it could also be internal conflicts that forced them to cease their assault."
"Regardless, I have won the opening round of this engagement."
A 10% reduction hinted at the potential for even steeper declines.
By the fifth day, the Proxima Centauri Civilization's output had dropped to 74.58% of its initial intensity.
The Tower of Babel still shone brightly, akin to a persistent firefly in the void—small, yet utterly resilient.
The Proxima Centauri Civilization began to feel a profound numbness.
They had committed 20% of their entire Civilization's energy reserves, yet they still could not dislodge that singular tall tower.
Even the high command experienced a sense of suffocation.
This was merely one tower dispatched by the adversary. If the enemy fleet arrived, could they successfully destroy even a single one of its supporting vessels, employing every tactic at their disposal?
Chaos!
The longer the tall tower remained, the more widespread the unrest became on the ground.
"It's over; we are about to provoke a truly powerful apex predator."
"Just as prey collides with a hunter, the hunter will inevitably raise its weapon and strike down upon the quarry."
"What are those high-ranking officials even doing?"
"Are they intentionally guiding our Civilization into the abyss?"
"Destruction, perhaps it is only a moment away."
"Run..."
"Escape this place!"
Every day, hundreds of ships launched into outer space. By now, the entire Civilization's military apparatus was directed at that single tall tower, creating an opportunity for escape.
On the first day, out of 241 ships launched, 27 managed to breach the atmosphere and escape; the remainder were intercepted.
More inhabitants spotted a potential path to survival.
On the second day, 375 ships launched, with 31 successfully breaking away.
On the third day, the number surged to 842 launched ships, with 57 escaping.
On the fourth day, the count reached a new peak of 1354 ships, indicating that interception alone was becoming insufficient, resulting in a total of 482 escapes.
By the fifth day, witnessing thousands of vessels fleeing into space enraged the Civilization's high command. These were cowards abandoning their people.
But they were rendered powerless.
The fundamental instinct of any living being is survival, and all else follows that imperative.
Civilizations, nations, and other organized structures are themselves merely vessels designed to shelter living entities. The most basic function they offer is stability.
If stability vanishes, then regardless of whether it is a Civilization or a nation, collapse is inevitable.
"If we persist in this confrontation, even more will flee."
"Then what alternative do we possess?"
"A collection of fools; they fail to grasp the exhaustive lengths we went to preserve our Civilization. They only understand one thing: running away."
"Hoo~ Now, the only two choices before us are to continue the assault or to cease fire. Gentlemen, make your decision."
All members of the high command, without any prior consultation, simultaneously envisioned the scene unfolding in space.
That tall tower.
So immense, so terrifying, so utterly indestructible, so impossibly superior.
"Stop!"
"What about after another tenth of a Revolution?" (Proxima Centauri b's orbit around Proxima Centauri takes approximately 11 Earth days for one Revolution.)
"That will consume even more of our energy reserves. You must recall how many years' worth of reserves we have already depleted in mere days."
"If we halt the attack now, we are already struggling just to maintain the stability of our Civilization's economy."
Energy translates directly to wealth.
Depleting 30% of their total energy is equivalent to consuming 30% of a Civilization's entire accumulated wealth.
Only through drastic inflation could they stabilize the Civilization's economy now, but even a brief calculation revealed it was far too much. Typically, a mere 5% fluctuation in a Civilization's total energy capacity is enough to trigger a massive economic upheaval.
And now it was 20%.
They deliberately avoided contemplating this issue.
But why couldn't they simply stop?
Because even if the economy completely collapsed, it could eventually be rebuilt. However, if the Civilization itself were destroyed, rebirth would be impossible.
They found themselves trapped in an impossible predicament.
They could only repeatedly issue orders for more warships to stand down fire, steadily reducing their overall firepower output.
By the end of the fifth day, their combined firepower had diminished to only 34.57% of its original intensity.
When the sixth day dawned, witnessing the Tower of Babel remaining perfectly intact, the spirits of all the high command members were utterly defeated.
"End the engagement!"
"Any further delay is meaningless."
"We must concede that there is a colossal disparity between a higher Civilization and us."
They had already depleted 23% of their total energy reserves.
They simply could not afford to continue pouring resources into that inexhaustible void.
"Perhaps we should dispatch a vessel to scout the surface of that tall tower."
Having ceased the bombardment, they were left with no other immediate options.
"No, that could be a calculated conspiracy by the higher Civilization. We should observe for a longer period."
No one could ascertain if that towering structure was a true Pandora's Box.
As for that prophecy, the Civilization's high command absolutely should not place faith in mere foresight. This was a matter concerning the very fate of their Civilization; it could not be gambled on whims.
But on the second day following that crucial decision, they detected a subtle anomaly.
"Our inaction has clearly angered the higher Civilization. This might cause us to forfeit the chance to establish contact with them."
"We will be entirely excluded from the Galactic Federation. A Civilization not belonging to the Galactic Federation will inevitably face destruction."
"Light weapons will cross thousands of light-years to reach our star system, just like that neighboring star system over 2,000 years ago, which was struck without warning by high-energy rays. A colossal planet was torn apart, resulting in the entire system being plunged into a stellar core storm for hundreds of millions of years."
"Only by entering the tall tower and obtaining the Civilization's Pass do we have any chance to petition for clemency."
"These absolute fools..."
The Civilization's high command nearly suffered nervous breakdowns upon receiving this devastating intelligence.
Most critically, certain factions within their populace would genuinely believe this terrifying narrative.
No matter how technologically advanced their Civilization, cultural dissemination should be highly efficient, but this clearly transcended simple cultural persuasion.
Because that tall tower was utterly without origin, and undeniably indestructible.
This was a tangible fact witnessed by every being in the Civilization. Using what they saw as empirical evidence, it was effortlessly easy to deduce the subsequent conclusion.
Precisely because it was so logically inferable, it convinced the vast majority of the populace.
"Locate the source of that prophecy!"
Images flooded the minds of all the Civilization's high command members.
It was a dilapidated, filthy refuse robot. Its head had exploded, and inside, a component utterly unlike anything else in the entire Civilization was discovered—a circuit board.
However, this particular circuit board was now burnt completely black.
"Conspiracy!"
"A complete and utter fabrication!"
"Disseminate this finding immediately!"
In an instant, all beings received this new intelligence directly into their minds.
But by then, it was already too late.
The tall tower had demonstrated through sheer might that it originated from a superior Civilization. How could a truly superior Civilization resort to such petty, localized trickery? This was deemed merely the high command's desperate attempt at deflection.
And even if a superior Civilization did use such petty tactics, so what?
They were merely spreading information, attempting to preempt unnecessary conflict.
More than half of the ships that had initially launched outward now redirected their course toward the tall tower, with more vessels emerging from the planet's surface joining the swelling armada.
A massive cloud of existential dread hung over the heads of all the Civilization's high command.
The opposing Civilization had resorted to base trickery, which implied their actual power level might not be as insurmountably high as initially feared.
The transmitted information might be true, but the probability that it was false was now substantially greater.
They had uncovered what they believed was the truth, but they could no longer halt the momentum.
Tens of thousands of ships carrying hundreds of thousands of beings streamed relentlessly toward the tall tower.
They could order the fleet to intercept, but this move would prove disastrously futile.
Space is inherently vast. Once tens of thousands of ships dispersed, the only viable option for the internal fleet was overwhelming brute force to stop them.
If they destroyed those civilian-carrying vessels, they could hardly fathom the ensuing reaction from the civilians still remaining on the planet.
After all, this wasn't a decision made by a few; it was a choice affirmed by the majority of the Civilization's population.
When the Civilization's high command failed to align with the affirmation of the majority, they would cease to be the high command.
If they attempted to block entry to the tall tower, they would inevitably face internal turmoil, an opportunity that an unknown external Civilization could readily exploit.
If they permitted entry, they would merely be fulfilling the hidden agenda of an unknown Civilization.
Another critical piece of information arrived.
"We have successfully entered the tower. Notably, the first entities to go inside were not the commoners, but our own soldiers."
This update further demoralized the Civilization's high command.
Soldiers possessed superior combat capability compared to civilians, but that did not necessarily translate into a deeper, more nuanced understanding than the civilian population.
There were several key components within this new intelligence:
1. Saving the Civilization.
Every single being within the Civilization desired to be a savior. They perceived the same existential threat as the high command, but the primary action they could influence was entry into the tower.
2. Seizing Authority.
The Civilization residing behind the tall tower was clearly staggeringly powerful. Every individual harbored the ambition to seize the authority granted by this higher Civilization, enabling them to leapfrog class structures.
3. A Friendly Civilization, Devoid of Weapons.
Entering the tall tower would not result in death; attempting entry caused no immediate harm.
This appeared to be a calculated strategy by a superior Civilization. It utilized the illusion of peace to ignite the survival instinct and inherent biological greed of the subjugated Civilization.
No creature is truly free of greed, because all living beings constantly require energy extracted from the world and the universe. This necessity forms the root of avarice. Unless a creature requires absolutely no matter and can subsist eternally, it is inherently driven by desire.
Upon grasping this realization, all members of the Civilization's high command felt as if they were staring at a dangling detonation fuse, with their entire Civilization situated beneath it.
They could only pray that the opposing Civilization was precisely as described in the prophecy.