Explosions roared, and the earth shook.

The entire crystalline core research station was almost the size of a small planet, yet under the collective bombardment of hundreds of "Prodigal Son" warships, this massive space structure still shuddered violently. Every section of the station echoed with terrifying cracking sounds. The enormous, sturdy crystal domes and prisms screeched alarmingly amidst the tremors, and various energy-filled crystals burst from overload. A pungent odor filled the corridors, along with arcane energy that drifted like mist. The newly freed prisoner followed a small team of combat elites towards the nearest exit, accompanied by the mysterious officer who had suddenly appeared.

Along the way, the small team endured incredibly difficult battles. They were not hindered by Hao Ren and his group, but by the station's automatically activated defense units: arcane guardians that resembled glowing gelatin, autonomous machines that charged with countless metal tentacles, and sentry turrets that suddenly emerged from walls and ceilings. These miscellaneous things possessed unbelievable combat power. Even the elite combat soldiers suffered heavy casualties when dealing with these seemingly weak unmanned units. By the time they finally reached an ejection channel, able to faintly glimpse the cosmos outside, less than a third of the team remained alive.

"Damn it… what the hell are these things…" the officer with the scepter muttered, clutching his arm. "When did this universe develop such a bizarre force…"

"They're probably from another world," the prisoner said, recalling the strange powers of Hao Ren's group. His tone was urgent as he warned, "I heard them talking about crossing universes and such—be careful, they'll stop at nothing to take me back."

"Let's just get out of here alive first," the officer grumbled, leading the remaining survivors quickly towards the exit.

Just then, they felt a strange tremor beneath their feet.

The walls on both sides of the corridor, and the ceiling above, simultaneously began to deform, slowly closing in.

"They're sealing this place off!" the officer shouted. "Everyone, hurry, hurry! Get out of here now!!"

Even the "Prodigal Son" race, who considered themselves gods, had an instinct for self-preservation. Under the pressure of impending doom, everyone exploded with astonishing speed. The prisoner himself was surprised that he still had such good stamina after so long in captivity and mental torture. He rose into the air, flying forward with all his might. He only heard the whistling of the wind in his ears. The corridor walls and ceiling, constantly compressing, rushed past in his vision, becoming a blur of fleeting phantoms. Several beams of light flew from behind, and he heard the screams of his companions before they died. It was probably those strange tentacled robots that had caught up. But he didn't look back—what good would it do? It would only get everyone killed.

So he flew forward desperately. The last ten meters, the last five meters, the last meter, and in the next instant, he escaped.

He passed through a thin film of light, which must have been the station's internal and external filtering barrier. Only after entering the vacuum of space did he finally breathe a long sigh of relief. Then he heard the voice of the officer who had rescued him from his cage in his mind: "Looks like only the two of us made it."

The newly freed man turned to look at the space station that had imprisoned him for so long, searching for the place he had escaped from. He saw a gate that had just closed, and some pale gold blood was spurting out from the seams, forming a cloud of congealed mist in space.

And in the distant space behind him, the massive golden warships continued to bombard the seemingly indestructible pale blue energy shield of the space station.

A small shuttle flew rapidly from the direction of the fleet, a strange shape like a curved lobster. The officer nudged the prisoner's arm. "Let's get out of here. I'll explain the situation to you once we're on the ship."

The prisoner nodded, but couldn't help but ask a question when he saw the shuttle: "Huh? A planetary entry-type fighter? Why use it here?"

"...This world has changed beyond recognition. You'll have many more questions," the officer said, shaking his head. "That war was ten thousand years ago."

They boarded the shuttle and, under the cover of friendly fire, finally returned to the mothership. The moment they stepped into the ship and saw the familiar decorations and reliefs, they both breathed a sigh of relief, feeling fortunate to have survived.

The fleet immediately began to retreat. The massive golden warships jumped into warp space one by one, just as they had come. Once the cosmos outside turned into a field of darkness, the officer turned to the soldier he had just rescued: "What's your name?"

"Nakulu," the newly freed man, still immersed in the joy of survival, answered subconsciously. Only after answering did he remember to ask about the origins of these fellow tribesmen: "Where did you come from? And this huge fleet… is my race still thriving?"

"I'm curious what they told you in that space station."

"They said my race had been wiped out in the glory of divine punishment," Nakulu frowned. "They also said that was ten thousand years ago, and that I was frozen in time for ten thousand years when the Su Lun Gate was swallowed by temporal turbulence."

"They weren't lying about the second half," the officer nodded. "It is indeed ten thousand years later. As for us… it's a long story. Once we return to base, I'll show you what remains of our strength. That war almost destroyed everything, and our race was severely damaged. Most of the surviving technology and people were twisted."

As he spoke, the officer smiled slightly: "So when we learned that the Su Lun Gate had suddenly reappeared, and that we had found signs of temporal distortion and your trail there, everyone was ecstatic. You are now a priceless treasure to us. You personally experienced that war, and you know things we don't."

Nakulu was stunned to hear the officer's words. He had heard the terms "ten thousand years" and "temporal distortion" from those who had captured him, but he had always been skeptical. Now, this terrifying claim had been confirmed by his own people.

The officer noticed Nakulu's hesitation and patted him on the shoulder. "You must remember the pride of our race, and not be defeated by these setbacks. Now we need to rebuild the glory of the past, and everything you know is crucial to us."

Nakulu looked at the officer's gesture of patting his shoulder, then slowly nodded. "...I will contribute my full strength to rebuilding the new god civilization."

Then he quickly reminded them: "Also, you must be careful of those who live in the crystalline space station. Although they suffered a loss this time, they will inevitably retaliate at all costs. Those guys have powers I've never seen before, and that space station is only a small part of their vast power. Their leader also carries a repulsive aura, which seems vaguely related to the old gods."

The officer simply hummed in response and led Nakulu deeper into the mothership. Along the way, Nakulu noticed that there were very few people on the ship, and everyone was hurrying about, not talking to each other. He couldn't help but be curious: "Are there so few people on 'Holy Spirit'-class motherships these days?"

"That war caused us heavy casualties. Even those who survived were affected by the goddess's curse. In ten thousand years, our population has hardly recovered at all," the officer explained vaguely. "So what we want to know most is how the warriors of ten thousand years ago fought against the goddess's power. We must quickly regain this ability to resist divinity, or our race will eventually be wiped out by the curse."

"The goddess's curse?" Nakulu slowed down. "And you don't even know the cause of that war anymore?"

"Yes, the goddess's curse. That curse not only took lives, but also caused confusion in the memories and thoughts of our people. The first generation of survivors quickly died in madness, unable to leave behind much knowledge," the officer explained simply. "How exactly did the warriors of the past solve the problem of divinity? We found runes to resist divinity in the equipment left behind, but those runes can only deal with the goddess's remaining weapons, not the goddess herself, which confuses us. Without some extra powerful force, how did the warriors of ten thousand years ago kill a god?"

"Has the origin of the universe abandoned you…" Nakulu said with a strange tone. "That's not right… He has implanted divine power into the souls of our race. Our resistance to divinity and divine magic should be permanent…"

"The origin of the universe?" The officer's voice suddenly rose half a step, but he immediately realized his gaffe and quickly regained his composure. "We only know the name, but we know almost nothing about its origins."

"Do the current tribesmen not hear that voice? That great voice from the beginning of the world?" Nakulu suddenly stopped, his expression changing rapidly. Finally, it slowly darkened. "I've always felt very strange…"

"I can understand. After all, there's a difference of ten thousand years between you and us," the officer nodded casually. "I'll take you to see the fleet's leader. He also has many questions to ask you, such as the whereabouts of the sword that killed the goddess."

Nakulu didn't speak, just stood there expressionlessly. The officer frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I admit, I underestimated you," Nakulu stared into the "officer's" eyes. "You're so cunning."

Opposite Nakulu, Hao Ren spread his hands. "When did I start to slip up?"

(There may only be one update these next couple of days… (>_<))