You never know which will come first, tomorrow or an accident.
Just like how no Emanator would ever think that something could be lost in territory they had managed for so long, let alone an entire legion.
Processors that had gone through multiple rounds of optimization were running at speeds enough to set an entire planet ablaze.
Perhaps this was a joke from the Cosmos. That is, assuming it really was a joke.
After sacrificing an entire legion, Irontomb finally obtained a safe distance, standing far away and gazing at that severed, slowly churning phenomenon.
It was similar to the Imaginary vortex that had appeared at the Family's stronghold.
Irontomb analyzed.
What happened at the Family's base could not possibly escape the notice of a Lord Ravager who moved freely through torrents of data.
But there was also a difference, this time, the energy fluctuations produced by the Imaginary vortex were far too intense.
The activity level of Imaginary energy had already far exceeded the threshold jointly defined by the various powers of the Cosmos.
Overly powerful Imaginary energy was a disaster. Unfortunately, this disaster had occurred right within his own domain.
"..." Staring at the vortex, Irontomb fell into deep thought.
Entering it was out of the question. Without absolute certainty, he would never place himself in danger.
Some of the Intellitrons had not been destroyed, but instead were swallowed by the vortex. In theory and in practice, Irontomb possessed full control over the legion, yet the moment they were drawn in, all connections were completely severed.
If they had not been directly annihilated after being pulled inside, then it meant that this vortex could directly block the connection between them.
Which also meant that if he entered and survived, he would have to face the loss of contact with all the bodies he had deployed across the Cosmos, while confronting unknown dangers within.
But giving up on a mystery delivered right to his doorstep was absolutely impossible.
Then, if the previous incident could tentatively be attributed to Dr. Primitive, what was the cause this time?
....
"So what caused it this time?"
Chewing bubble gum out of boredom, Silver Wolf leaned lazily against a massive stone pillar. Her right heel lightly tapped against the tip of her left foot as she glanced sideways, observing the Imaginary vortex far in the distance.
After watching for a while, Silver Wolf turned her head curiously. Firefly had her hands tightly clasped before her chest, lingering fear still visible on her face.
"How did you run into this thing?"
"I was originally looking for something. Then I suddenly felt a very strong force destroying everything around it. When I turned back, I saw the vortex forming. I barely managed to escape in time."
Under normal circumstances, Firefly's strength was enough to let her roam freely across the Cosmos.
As long as she didn't deliberately run into places packed with the Swarm Disaster or the Antimatter Legion, there wouldn't be much trouble, even if she were truly surrounded, she could hold out for a long time.
But this danger was truly different. The Imaginary vortex had already destroyed everything around it that could be destroyed. Even when it simply stayed there, motionless, the Imaginary energy it casually radiated carried a chilling aura.
Kafka gently patted Firefly on the back, her voice soft as she comforted her. "There, there. It's already over."
As for the true culprit behind all of this...
"We probably can't do anything about it right now." Based on the previous experience, the source that could give rise to such a phenomenon was already obvious.
The Imaginary Tree.
Last time, Dr. Primitive had even used an Imaginary vortex to reach the Sea of Quanta. Although he ultimately vanished into the Sea of Quanta, Kafka remained skeptical about whether Dr. Primitive had truly fallen until she personally witnessed confirmation of his death.
Never underestimate an Emanator's ability to survive.
"Well, uh, I think we might want to take a look down here." Silver Wolf raised her right hand, her eyes fixed on the virtual screen in her hand.
"What is this?" Firefly leaned closer to Silver Wolf, curiously looking at the points of light that had appeared on the screen. At a rough glance, there were at least dozens of them, varying in size.
"All of these?" Blade asked in a low voice.
So many points of light made Blade think of nothing good.
"If I'm not mistaken, see, this one's still near the Star Rail in the Pasela Star System. I'd guess that rail is probably scrapped by now."
"Star Rail!?" Firefly's eyes widened slightly as she cried out.
Most interstellar travel required navigating along designated Star Rails. It wasn't that traveling outside them was impossible, if you were willing to bear the risk of getting lost, then go ahead.
Under normal circumstances, unless one was a Pathstrider or a major commercial group with immense strength, ordinary people would never choose to leave the Star Rails.
Who knew, somewhere out there, the Antimatter Legion, the Swarm Disaster, the Annihilation Gang, or other unknown horrors might be lying in wait.
"At least none of them are near our bases." Kafka chuckled lightly, joking.
"So do we need to deal with this thing? Looks like we can't anyway." Silver Wolf yawned, sounding bored.
The Stellaron Hunters were indeed extraordinary, or else they wouldn't have carved out such a reputation across the vast Cosmos and ended up on the IPC's wanted list.
The number of zeros behind those bounties was enough to make countless bounty hunters' eyes turn red with envy.
But even the Stellaron Hunters couldn't deal with something like this.
Last time, being able to deal with Dr. Primitive had only been possible thanks to that individual capable of linking people together.
She didn't deny that she herself was resolute when it came to treating the world as a game, but she didn't believe her will was strong enough to contend with the very foundation upon which worlds were built.
"We don't need to worry about it. If something like this happens, the ones who should be anxious aren't us." Kafka smiled faintly.
If one were to ask who should be the most anxious when such trouble arises, the answer was obvious.
....
"What exactly is going on?"
At the Interastral Peace Corporation, a succession of big shots, figures rarely even seen on television, appeared one after another. Many wore troubled expressions, their eyes filled with deep confusion and bewilderment.
Out of nowhere, several of the IPC's markets had lost contact.
It was utterly baffling.
"These markets almost all lost contact at the same time. We attempted to reach them, but have been unable to establish any communication."
The director responsible for these markets spoke in a deep voice, his expression grave as he addressed the many important figures below.
"Multiple markets losing contact simultaneously is a major incident that hasn't occurred in several Amber Eras. The only question now is, what kind of situation could possibly cause them to lose contact at the same time?"
A director with the appearance of an Intellitron spoke up.
"The Antimatter Legion is not expected to make any large-scale moves for at least half an Amber Era. A localized disaster caused by the Swarm Plague would still be plausible, but anything else capable of creating a situation like this would have to be a force standing at the very pinnacle of the Cosmos. We have no direct conflicts with such forces, and the probability of it being them is even lower than Rimbit discovering precious mineral resources."
Rimbit, a chaotic zone under the IPC's jurisdiction, is publicly acknowledged as a place that has consumed countless resources over several Amber Eras without yielding any results.
"Director Taravan, when you travelled out recently, did you ever encounter anything similar?"
In the absence of intelligence, someone turned their gaze toward Taravan, the head of the Building Material Logistics Department.
A Emanator of Preservation, Taravan had never been part of the IPC before becoming one. It was only after he attained the status of a Emanator of Preservation that the IPC formally invited him to take up the position of director.
Incidentally, the predecessor of the Building Material Logistics Department was the Amber Lord's Support Corps. In a place like the IPC, where followers of the Amber Lord gathered, this name alone signified an extraordinary status.
"…" Taravan seemed to be thinking. Before he could speak, a voice that had remained silent for a long time finally rang out.
"I think I may know part of the answer."
"Director Diamond, please go on." Many people immediately perked up, their spirits lifted.
The IPC was not afraid of enemies. No matter how powerful the opponent was, as long as an Aeon did not intervene personally, the sheer scale of the IPC meant it could hold its ground even against several enemies of the same tier for a long time.
What they truly feared were enemies with no clear footing, ones whose nature was unknown. Fighting such an opponent was like stumbling blindly in pitch darkness, where disaster could strike at any moment.
"This is a report from Pearl…"
Diamond activated the projection. The image of Pearl, one of the Ten Stonehearts, appeared and began reporting the gathered intelligence.
"According to our investigation, within a radius of ten light-minutes from the vortex, imaginary energy exceeds the safety threshold. It is estimated that no life can survive within."
"After comparison, the imaginary particles emitted near the vortex show a high degree of similarity to the imaginary energy used in the Modes System, the cage created by Miss Mobius to imprison Luxbane."
The earlier clues were merely appetizers. When this piece of information was revealed, several people in the audience narrowed their eyes, clearly realizing something.
Mobius was a name no one present was unfamiliar with.
A newly born genius, personally certified by Nous as a dangerous individual.
Especially her feat of trapping a Lord Ravager the moment she emerged, it was nothing short of terrifying.
Even before attracting the gaze of Nous, Mobius had already firmly established herself. Judging from the intelligence gathered about her, her foundation was shockingly solid.
There was no one present who did not want to invite Mobius to join the IPC. At the very least, they hoped to establish cooperation like the one the IPC had with Herta.
Even personal cooperation would have been acceptable~~
Casting aside these scattered thoughts, everyone's minds snapped back into focus.
What filled their thoughts were the words: highly matching imaginary energy.
Not all imaginary energy is the same.
It was like how the memoria matter of the Asdana System could construct Penacony, the Planet of Festivities, while elsewhere, supporting small-scale research with memoria matter was already considered remarkable.
The purest imaginary energy released by the Imaginary Tree was fundamentally different from the imaginary energy wielded by ordinary Pathstriders.
However, this data point had always been fluctuating, and under most circumstances, it was not taken seriously.
After all, large-scale movements by Emanators could also cause variations when drawing imaginary energy from the surroundings.
In the past, this piece of information would never have been worthy of discussion.
But now things were different. The existence of the Imaginary Tree had already been confirmed.
Was there even a need to guess where such pure imaginary energy came from?!
Some people's breathing had already grown heavier.
…..
None of those present were ordinary people, but they were still human. And humans have desires and ambitions.
They did not reach their current positions through harmony and goodwill. Every step was carved out with intellect and ruthless methods.
Most of them had once been ordinary people. It was only the resources in their hands that allowed them to stand at the peak of the Cosmos.
Clang, clang,
"Staring into the abyss is not an appropriate choice."
Sensing the thoughts of those seated nearby, Taravan lightly tapped the metal tabletop with his knuckles and spoke in a low voice.
Do not think that great figures are detached from the mortal world. Most of the time, their generosity simply meant the thing before them was not enticing enough.
Reaching the position of the Board of Directors meant that most things in the Cosmos could no longer arouse their interest.
Even the value of an entire star system was, to them, merely a slightly larger cake. In a world where individual power could truly transcend all limits, only absolute strength could ensure the enduring prosperity.
And existences like the Imaginary Tree could provide exactly that.
If fortune favored them, they too could become part of that small group of supreme powerhouses, standing at the pinnacle of the Cosmos through individual strength alone, lifting themselves to an eternal summit.
But all of this was premised on absolute feasibility. At least in Taravan's eyes, only a handful of those present were capable of bearing such weight.
Mm. The followers of the Amber Lord were not without their merits.
"Ahem. Director Taravan, we all understand what you're saying. But the IPC must strangle every potential disastrous outcome in its cradle. Only then can we truly answer to the countless people who place their trust in the IPC."
The structure of the Interastral Peace Corporation's board was not immutable.
Across the board, only two legendary figures, Louis Fleming and Dongfang Qixing, had remained unmoved, seated high as lifetime directors.
More than seven hundred Amber Eras.
What an unimaginably long span of time. And what extraordinary figures the two founders of the Interastral Peace Corporation were.
The current board had undergone endless changes over that vast history. New members joined amid repeated struggles and bloodshed.
Barring accidents, during the remainder of their lives, continuing to occupy board seats and gaze down upon all beings beneath the clouds.
In the past seven hundred-plus Amber Eras, such an opportunity had never existed.
But now, the chance to become lifetime directors like Louis Fleming and Dongfang Qixing lay right before them.
A desperate gamble, everything, or nothing. To peacefully enjoy the prosperity under their leadership, or lose everything they had.
The choice rested entirely in their own hands.