"What?!"
"Those stubborn fools!"
"Have they not seen the recent anomalous-energy reports? Are they blind?!"
"'Mind your own business'? Hah! I should've marched a legion over and wiped out those Void Predators back when I had the chance—short-sighted vermin!"
"How could the Council of Star Spirits make such a choice? It makes no sense…"
The mood, which had only just begun to thaw, plunged back to freezing point.
In its place surged fury—and a rising tide of dread.
The liaison officer drew a breath, his voice sinking lower.
"Furthermore, based on encrypted intel smuggled out at great risk by several of our field operatives, there are strong indications that some among those major powers have already made clandestine contact with abyssal forces."
"Some may have fully fallen—becoming the demons' proxies in the material cosmos."
"They are likely sabotaging us from within… and could even turn coat at the most critical moment."
"Traitors!"
"Parasites!"
"We must purge them at once!"
The outcry was fierce, yet tinged with a helpless edge.
To confront a cosmic cataclysm while also hunting hidden turncoats—some perhaps seated at the highest councils—would only make an already dire situation worse.
In a shadowed corner, the representative of one civilization wore a mask of anger, but contempt flickered in his eyes.
What a fragile, laughable alliance…
A heavy pall settled over the grand hall.
Just as the assembly felt besieged from within and without, Calvin's voice cut through the gloom like a dawn wind.
"Everyone, set your worries aside for the moment—I have one more piece of news."
"Hm?!"Heads turned as one. Calvin did not keep them in suspense.
"Before I departed Dalton, President Leo entrusted me with a few 'trifling' gifts—his words—that he hoped might help our present predicament."
He regarded their puzzled expressions and continued evenly.
"President Leo has provided equipment and strategic materiel sufficient to fully re-outfit the frontline main armies of every TMC core member state."
"Based on my preliminary assessment, the performance standards far exceed the average level of even our finest current armaments."
The hall fell into dead silence.
For a heartbeat, none could find their tongues.
Gifts… from a remote star sector?
And their performance surpasses our top-tier equipment?
On several faces, expressions tilted toward the peculiar.
Has Calvin been compromised by demons, come to rattle our morale?
Calvin had not finished. He drew a steady breath.
"In addition, President Leo has prepared a personal gift for those present—and for several peak powerhouses currently in seclusion who could not attend. These gifts are tailored to help you overcome your immediate bottlenecks—perhaps even to let you brush against the next barrier of existence."
He lifted a hand.
Through long-range projection, dozens of radiant caskets appeared, each emanating a distinct glow.
On every lid was clearly engraved a corresponding name.
In an instant, scores of formidable spiritual senses swept the images.
In the chest marked 'Green Leaf', elder of the Forest Alliance, there pulsed the scent of a newborn Life-Tree bud—so pure that his very life-origin leapt for joy.
Within the box for 'Ten-Thousand-Engines', the mechanoid representative, a pristine Logic Source-Core hummed—so pure it seemed to be rewriting his foundational code.
The Titan guardian felt an ancient Mother-Earth breath surge from within his gift, boiling his archaic bloodline awake.…
Boom—!!!
For a moment, the energy in the monitoring hall teetered on the brink of losing control.Several powerhouses, hearts pounding, failed to fully rein in their auras; the entire silver spire gave a faint tremor.
If re-arming the legions was aid in the snowstorm—bolstering the whole—then enabling the apex to break through was a lantern lit upon the path ahead.
At their level, each tiny step forward demanded ages of time and fortune upon fortune.
President Leo's "gifts" were nothing less than a paved road toward higher peaks.
More crucially, these tangible items proved that Calvin's story was not hot air but cold, hard fact.
In that instant, every doubt about Dalton, every speculation about Leo's strength, burned down to purest shock, gratitude—and awe.
This mysterious president—his methods, magnanimity, and the resources he commanded—lay wholly beyond their frame of understanding.
Morale, previously sunk by talk of schisms and spies, blazed anew under the sudden windfall.
"Dalton… I truly wonder what kind of existence it is."
"That president can reach across the star-sea and pinpoint us so precisely? What rank could wield such reach?!"
"Could he be… beyond Starfield Lord rank?"
The delegates looked to one another, eyes alight with irrepressible hope.
Often, the fate of wars is written by the duel of the highest powers—yet pitting such strength against the Abyssal deep?
Truthfully, many had little confidence, even with ancient beings slumbering in their strongholds.
Not a few had reconciled themselves to civilizational extinction.
But now, with a suspected supreme entity on their side—hope flared again.
"Our Ark Civilization will forever keep our gates open to Dalton in thanks for President Leo's gifts…"
"The same for our Dofang Star Domain…"
"With Dalton beside us—this war, we will win!"
Calvin's reply rang out like a hammer on an anvil—firm, unwavering, filled with a confidence none had heard from him before.
In the depths of the universe.
A star region swaddled in warped nebulae and layered veils of dark-matter dust—Starcourt.
At the very heart of that court of stars rose a palace forged of obsidian and soul-crystal.
There, the supreme lord of the region—a star-elf with pallid skin and ghost-green fire dancing in his eyes, known as "Star-Song" Malekis—cowered in abject prostration before a towering demon phantom woven of pure chaos, malice, and whispering lies.
"Great and most exalted Abyssal Sovereign—your most faithful, most humble servant, Malekis, offers you eternal fealty and soul!"
Malekis's voice quivered with fanatic devotion.
"Your stratagems are flawless—everything unfolds within your grasp!"
"The Council of Star Spirits, the Titan offshoot Heart of Mountains—those arrogant fools have formally refused to sign the TMC's defense accord. Internal fractures have widened just as our provocations intended!"
"And as you decreed, I have used my 'ally' status to infiltrate the TMC. I have gained partial trust—I now sit among their decision-makers…"
The demon's shadow gave a low, sepulchral roar that iced the marrow.
A surge of pure abyssal power speared into Malekis's body.
He screamed—a shuddering sound of pain laced with rapture—and his aura grew visibly deeper, darker.
"Good. Continue to burrow deep… sow fear and suspicion."
"My Lord," Malekis said, almost trembling with excitement, "one more thing—I have fresh news. A new power called Dalton has joined the Vito Multiverse Administration. More importantly, it seems the ruler there is… extraordinary—possibly at Starfield Lord rank…"
"Hmph. Even those above Starfield Lords are but insects.Before the Cataclysm, there is only one road—death."
"Wait for the moment our inside men open the gates.I will make this universe devour itself—and sink into eternal night."
The demon's satisfaction lingered in the air as its shadow dissolved.
Malekis basked in the surging black tide within him, lips peeling back into a twisted grin.
"Ha… hahahaha…"
"Stupid, struggling gnats—prepare to welcome despair!"
Already he saw himself enthroned in the newborn Abyssal order—power in his fist, the universe at his feet.
However—
At the very next heartbeat, while he reveled in hungry dreams—
BOOM!!!Rrrr-r-r-RUMBLE—!!!
The palace around him—and then the entire principal system of Starcourt—began to quake with terrifying violence.