Soul of Searing Steel

Question: If a champion could create millions and billions of creatures that possess intelligence, independent personalities, and are completely identical to naturally born creatures but are more perfect, more beautiful than those natural creatures without any consequences…

Would such a champion still need a burden like civilization?

In other words, if he already possesses such profound power to split out billions of thinking minds, he would certainly be able to break through defects including perspective impediments easily without the help of others at all. In fact, creating intelligent life to support him was in itself unnecessary.

Even so, a certain warrior who was fighting Evil Gods at the moment would not concern himself with that question. He looked forward to the futures of civilization, just as he looked forward to powerful unknown enemies.

Though able to move forward alone even without civilization, he actually took offense and disliked it despite not being affected at all…from a certain perspective, he might perhaps be colder than the Imperator.

That was because to Imperator Amos, the answer to that question was ‘of course it is needed’.

“I really like all of you.”

The Golden Stormeye said nothing, and yet his words had no elements of deceit at all. “How could I have no feelings after raising the Amoses for so long? Even if a tool of convenience is broken, I would at most withdraw them instead of throwing away or destroying them. You can be at ease—I will not sit and watch as the Amoses go extinct at the hands of the Ultimate Virus, and before that, I will collect some valuable Amoses for safekeeping.”

“Probably Commander-class would do…haha. It really is different from back then—indeed, perhaps development would progress quicker after most of the inferior population has been eliminated.”

“That said, it is truly troubling that the Takur mongrels are really not weak at all. It has been years, but I cannot break through their seal upon the Infinite Divine Energy Converter Source, and now that the Ultimate Virus has caused unrest amongst them, the Amoses are infected too.”

As the Golden Stormeye stared at Elma who in turn was left speechless, he reminded her, “Tell this to that Mycroftian. I can leave a message if you can’t.”

It was simply impressive that he now used both Elma and Creed as tools to communicate with Joshua.

“Imperator…”

Elma’s mind was now a mess. She had guessed and known it definitively, but was still unable to accept it upon hearing Imperator Amos’ personal admission. Even if anyone—Amos or human—believed themselves able to endure such terrific shock, they would only realize how weak the defense of their hearts were in the face of the actual situation.

“Get a hold of yourself, Elma!”

By luck, Creed, who was inside Elma’s body, realized that she was about to collapse under the Imperator’s unconsciously emanating might and her own self-torment. He hence hastily charged his power, stimulating her to clear her head.

“…Thanks.”

Though Creed’s ability was not actually considerable, but through the buff of the Crisis Handling System, a bizarre Extraordinary power actually revived Elma from her muddle-headedness. She gratefully glance at the sighing human captain, before looking up to find a thoughtful stare from Imperator Amos.

“That’s the power of that Mycroftian? Interesting structure…truly interesting. Though weak in strength, its prioritization is high—so, he has actually found an end to that path? As expected of the Forerunners who have come from the Lost Galaxy. It does give me some inspiration.”

Imperator Amos gave Joshua a fair appraisal and commended the warrior’s exquisite art, at once bringing him joy and a fine mood. The giant eye even swiveled, indicating his delight.

Meanwhile, Elma’s mind flickered with a single simple thought as she watched the greatest champion who stood above the Court itself.

“What could have happened in his past that he would become like this…”

“Surely even the Imperator would have a weak moment…”

However, the answer to that was no.

The Golden Stormeye graciously overlooked the random thought of his subject, even providing an answer thanks to his good mood.

I was born powerful.

When I was born, the mana and ether I commanded far surpassed my own father.

He had tried to kill the infant me then but failed, and was killed instead by the recoil of my innate ether-bounded field.

Then, by the third day of my birth, I learned the language of the Amos, their present political standings, and assumed control, ready to conquer the weak around me.

“I was never weak, Elma. Only the weak would be weak…the strong would always be powerful.”

Beneath the Golden Stormeye, a tentacle composed of etheric flow reached out—it was thin yet massive. Even if it could not be thinner to the massive eye, yet, it was over eighteen kilometers thick to Elma, and was collapsing towards her like a wall.

However, the tentacle gently touched Elma’s warship form, just like how a human would gently stroke a bug when in a good mood—they would do all they could to be careful and refrain from crushing them, curiously and pleasantly poking at their shell.

Even the gaze on the giant eye was gentle.

“I could tell that you are enraged and upset, because you believe that my attitude is negligent and discriminating. Even so, it is normal—it would be a great oddity and really bewildering if I treated the Amoses as equals instead.”

“I can be angry, calm, cherishing, or serious as I go about doing something—but that is only against champions who are able to fight me as an equal. I will only feel purpose in life because they exist… while the Amoses are life that I have created as eye candy and to kill time when I’m not in search of other champions.”

***

Humans needed legacies, organizations, teamwork, and procreation because humans would die.

Because they would die, they needed heirs.

Because they would die, they needed to gather together so they would not die due to unexpected circumstances.

Because they would die, they needed to communicate, work together, divide labor, and create a greater and more stable collective that would not fall so easily.

Such was civilization.

The collective progress was the path towards the goal called undying. Still, as the development of civilization made ‘not dying due to unexpected circumstances’ increasingly simpler, the objective of civilizations thus moved on to a ‘better life’ or ‘a life with greater purpose’, even reaching the state of seeking individual existential meaning or seeking the unknown and Truth.

Nonetheless, it was the same with pyramids built upon a wide base—the bottommst and greatest objective was to ‘survive’.

“Humans need legacy and heirs because they die and are not immortal.”

The Golden Stormeye patiently described his thoughts as an individual. Though he would not ask of a creature who could not achieve the state of undying to understand him, who would not muse to themself? Moreover, the little bug was quite interesting—she actually doubted, resisted, and had wanted to betray him.

By the skies, it was simply novel, and it was as delightful as finding a shining diamond in a pile of pebbles.

Truly, it had been dozens of millennia since there was such a fascinating fellow.

“Even so, I don’t need it. To me, a so-called civilization is simply a placenta that ensured I gestated, birthed, and grew smoothly. Since I am now mature and have become complete, the placenta is to be disposed of.”

“As I’ve mentioned before, I like the Amoses for I cherish the old times too.”

The ultimate being was immortal and invincible, holding great power and mindset. He alone was complete and embodied everything, and was able to devour galaxies and destroy worlds with a single thought—he certainly would not need burdens such as a collective.

Selfish, egoistical, and yet selfless and charitable—he could destroy billions of worlds for himself and sweep away other civilizations and intelligent life like refuse. Likewise, he could protect an entire race over dozens of millennia simply because he was in a good mood and thought that they look good, even permitting them to live in his own body…as if allowing pets to climb over himself.

Doing and claiming everything he desired with no one to stop him—concepts like good and evil, which describes humans, could not be imposed on such beings by force, for they were without restraint.

For their name was immortal, whimsical beasts.

***

Elma was dumbstruck. She understood Imperator Amos with growing clarity thanks to Creed waking her, and suddenly felt that she had been so ridiculous—that her accusations against Imperator Amos was amusing and sickening.

That being said, the Amoses were even funnier. They had actually coexisted with such a profound being, even developing such an advanced civilization—bahahaha! The Amoses should really have sincerely offered their gratitude and apologies to him, for he had so generously offered his shell to insects like them as their capital for such a long time.

The Imperator was such a nice person.

He should be admired and worshipped.

“That’s right, what the Amoses have contributed to the Imperator simply isn’t proportional to what he has given us…so funny, so funny…”

Elma was laughing in distress, whereas the Golden Stormeye had already left, withdrawing inside the nebula dome above the tower. She looked on, flaccidly lifting and flailing her tentacles, “What have I been upset or unhappy about…why had I even thought of rebelling…”

So that’s it. All my distress, anger, and loss were caused by my own weakness…I’m so weak that I hadn’t comprehend the Imperator at all.

In that moment, a shapeless presence began to spread from the nebula to the entire Court Dome.

Imperator Amos had granted Elma’s wish—he was extending his power and banishing the presence of all Ultimate Virus in the Amos Court.

It was like lifting a finger: nothing difficult and nothing more than a cleanup. He could even clear away the lingering ‘dust’ in the Court in passing, sweeping off some of the useless world fragments.

Naturally, the former was easy accomplished given his many clones, while the latter would need a longer period…but that was not important since the Imperator never lacked time.

Meanwhile, Elma and Creed were escorted away from the inner circle—in the blink of an eye, they were once again in the Court Dome before they could comprehend what was happening.

“It’s a good thing, at least.”

Helpless, Creed could only console Elma. “Think about it: we’re not dead, and Imperator Amos has even acted to clear away the Ultimate Virus…no matter how we think about it, our objectives have been all accomplished.”

“…Right.”

Elma tried to answer spiritedly but her voice remained at a loss. “We did what we set out to do, and the Court is now safe…after all, when has it not been safe, having the Imperator with us?”

It’ s just a few dead bodies, nothing too important, she mocked herself.

***

Creed felt bad with Elma being in such a state.

When Elma had revived him, the human saw an Amos with great inner strength and independence, in possession her own aims, and with consideration towards others. For others and the future of the Amoses, she had chosen to free herself from the influence of the Imperator through traitorous desertion, to live alone in the Multiverse.

Her plan was careful and her preparations complete, and she would have carried out the plan if not for the Ultimate Virus—because of the epidemic and its potential to kill millions of Amoses, she left behind her ideals to attempt collecting information and solve that issue instead.

Even if she was an Amos and not a Mycroftian, it was an aspect worthy of respect because she did not resort to harming others and machinations for greater profit, and even reviving Creed was merely out of mutual benefit.

She was a very charming alien woman, and not like how she was now: dejected and bewildered, even if her objective was clearly accomplished.

Sighing and smiling bitterly, Creed then noticed that he shared the same pains as Elma—she was too weak to do anything, just as he was too weak to be able to help her.

Still, at least the problem was resolved… or was it?

It was after some time and having her warship anchored to a certain Void harbor that the blanked-out Elma and Creed, who was connected to her in spirit and cheered her up, that a message suddenly came.

“Elma, the Ultimate Virus has attacked the vicinity of the fringe Void settlement where you lived again, and we are evacuating the citizens. In the first place, we should be moving property and mobile housing as well, but the seal on your residence is too powerful that we cannot quickly remove it, and were forced to leave it behind.”

“I’m informing you beforehand so you would be prepared when you return. Even if Commander-class would not be corrupted by the Virus, you should be alert of any Ultimate Entities that may be present—I know you’ve killed one, but the less you encounter, the better, right?”

“Cross, out.”

Cross had been an Imperial Guard who had been moving Void settlements infected by the Ultimate Virus from the Court’s borders to the Assembly Area. He was one of Elma’s former acquaintances and was in charge of handling the plague in that particular region—after learning about the plague incident, he had immediately informed his very important old friend who just returned from an audience with the Imperator.

“What’s going on?”

Elma’s desolation was promptly replaced by agitation, her tone from flatness to confusion, and eventually astonishment. “Ultimate Virus?”

“Haven’t the ripples of the Ultimate Virus been cleared away by Imperator Amos?!”

Simply unable to believe what she was hearing, Creed watched in shock as Elma recovered from her gloom. She quickly spread her wings to communicate, wildly connecting to hundreds of wavelengths to ask after different regions: some were acquaintances, some were information obtained through clearances, while some were simply nonresponsive.

A shocking realization soon dawned.

“There is assuredly no Ultimate Virus spreading inside the Court, but there is no change in the fringes—no, it was pacified for some time, but soon relapsed…”

Elma looked up in shock, doing everything within her power to look out over at the center of the nebula, which was the clone of Imperator Amos.

Now, she truly understood what ‘banishing the virus in the Court’ meant: the Imperator really did banish the virus in the Court, but did not follow up to keep it purged.

Indeed, how normal—Imperator Amos had wanted to test the depth of the Amoses with the Ultimate Virus in the first place—he said it himself!

Elma had voiced her wish and he had granted it. However, it would not be his fault should the plague recur in the fringes… not to mention that Elma’s wish did not mention it.

Don’t be too greedy, little fellow.

The Imperator’s voice faintly appeared in Elma’s ears, and she realized that he would not be acting once again… he could even be described as happy, since he could watch as the epidemic unfolded again, and he really loved the novelty of viral infections, which was akin to watching a zombie movie.

After all, aren’t the Amoses who have gone through Ultimate growth novel, adorable, and interesting?

“Everything….everything is meaningless.”

***

“Everything is meaningless.”

The paradox spiral, the center of the Dark Galaxy in Stellaris.

Swinging his black hole fist, Joshua coolly dragged an unnamed Evil God that had been left immobile by the Triple Curtain to the center of his black hole engine. It would not be destroyed soon, but would be torn into pieces by the profound gravitational force between the two black holes, without leaving a trace.

Even so, just as he was on the move again to kill more Evil Gods in tandem with the Triple Curtain, he suddenly heard a voice which chilled him down to the bone, and he promptly turned behind.

He saw a supremely long cocoon thread reaching out from the center of the paradox spiral, swaying leisurely around in space, distorting the surrounding world.

Light was erratic and space warped. As the thread of vague size swayed, space itself crumbled and reassembled like toy blocks. However, the fabric of the world became vulnerable in that process, with the World Barrier’s strength rapidly decreasing as if someone was stirring half-frozen butter with chopsticks—it was difficult at first, but soon became simpler and easier.

“Meaningless.”

Whimsical, immortal, and invincible—the egoistical beast sighed and repeated, “Meaningless resistance.”

Even so, it was met with virtual realm and Mountain Splitting Force (black hole version).

“Whether purpose exists in fighting…”

The black hole roared while violent force tore apart neutrons, electrons, and protons, pulverizing even quarks and leaving light across the dimensions in tatters. Gravity bent space and time so that the target felt as if time had accelerated, and that it was watching the death of the Universe and all life.

And that was no exaggeration but reality.

Without any sort of thought, Joshua simply dished out his blow because he did not have to ask to get his answer.

Purpose? For such a thing…

“One would only know after fighting.”