Humanity is missing, luckily I have billions of clones-Chapter 294: Tom Lost ??

The silence of the void was replaced by the screaming of sensors.

On the asteroid battlefield, Tom suffered an unprecedented and crushing defeat. It was a massacre of steel and circuitry.

Not only were all industrial facilities anchored to the rock completely destroyed, reducing years of construction to drifting dust, but the fleet losses were catastrophic. Out of a total of 1 million warships deployed to hold the line, less than 500,000 managed to limp away into the retreat vectors.

With the absolute failure on the asteroid battlefield, Tom’s strategic depth evaporated. His only hope now rested entirely on the First Planet battlefield.

This was the final line in the sand.

Even if he could not further worsen the stellar environment—the star was already screaming in agony—as long as he could hold First Planet, the situation would still be under his control. He needed the ground. He needed the mass.

Although his combat power and industrial capacity were weakened by the star’s rampage, causing sensors to blind and engines to stall, at least he still had a resource advantage, a home-ground combat advantage, and an unmanned combat system advantage!

If he utilized all of them, pouring every ounce of computing power into the fray, he might not be unable to defend First Planet!

Without time to grieve or rage over the loss on the asteroid battlefield, Tom maintained absolute calm and rationality. He severed the emotional feedback loops and committed all available forces to the First Planet battlefield.

At this moment, the sky of First Planet seemed to be burning. It was as if purgatory had descended upon the physical world.

This was not only due to the star, which had already entered a state of rampage, casting immense solar flares that licked at the planet’s magnetosphere, but also because of the endless flashes of explosions scattered around the star.

The orbital space was a grinder. When one warship exploded, turning into a rapidly expanding cloud of plasma, another immediately took its place to plug the gap. When a gun turret was destroyed, automated fabrication swarms immediately assembled another to continue the combat mission in that area.

The conditions on the ground were apocalyptic.

Enduring intense radiation strong enough to instantly kill an unprotected human body, enduring the high temperature of over 300 degrees Celsius on First Planet’s surface, and enduring the fierce bombardment of charged particle streams that stripped away shielding, countless factories on First Planet’s surface were still operating at full capacity.

The machinery groaned under the stress. There were constant mechanical failures, constant explosions from overheated reactors, constant fires that burned even in the thin atmosphere, and constant gas leaks.

And amidst this hell, the clones died in droves.

Large numbers of clones were instantly killed by these industrial accidents, vaporized by leaks or crushed by collapsing structures.

But the hibernation base seemed to spontaneously grow clones. An endless stream of them, dressed in uniform, with cold and calm expressions, like fearless warriors, rushed to their respective workstations. They stepped over the bodies of their predecessors without a glance, their minds synchronized to the single task of production.

In the space control base, the horror was of a different kind.

The clones native to First Planet and those located on other planets, under Tom’s unified command, cooperated seamlessly as a single entity. However, the neural load was excruciating.

Due to the extremely heavy combat missions and the enormous mental strain of micromanaging millions of units through the interference of the solar storm, clones constantly died suddenly in the intelligent cockpits.

It was a silent massacre.

Some bled from their seven orifices as their blood pressure spiked; some directly leaked cerebrospinal fluid from their ears; some suffered sudden cardiac arrest; some experienced total brain collapse as their neurons fired until they burned out.

The control room was a conveyor belt of death.

Whenever a clone slumped over, dead, the other clones would unbuckle the corpse and move it away without any expression, as if disposing of garbage. A backup clone would immediately step in, sit in the warm seat, and plug into the interface. The process flowed with extreme smoothness, a macabre dance of efficiency.

Tom had truly exerted his full strength, genuinely going all out. He pushed every biological and mechanical limit he possessed.

Because Tom knew that if he did not truly go all out, if he held back even 1%, the Mechanical Disaster Alliance might see through his facade...

Around Flying Star, aboard the colossal Honor spacecraft, in Conference Room One.

The atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

All high-ranking officials of the Havilah Civilization, as well as the oscillating virtual image representing Akakenu, were present.

Everyone was nervously watching the holographic projection of the development of the battle. The red and blue dots merged and separated in a chaotic swirl.

At this moment, the high-ranking officials responsible for managing the entire civilization had completely transformed. They were no longer politicians; they were assistants and collaborators for the military personnel.

A total of over a billion warriors adopted a rotation mode, continuously arriving at their combat posts. They kept their combat power at its peak, eyes glued to targeting scanners, always executing orders from their superiors.

Everyone clearly understood the stakes. This battle would be the most important, a turning point, in the entire war.

Given the numerous favorable conditions created—the solar storm, the crushing numbers—if they still could not take First Planet, then they would never be able to take it again. The window of opportunity would slam shut.

And if they could not take a large planet, even if they could maintain a technological advantage, the final outcome would still only be defeat! A fleet without a home is just debris waiting to happen.

Fortunately, fortunately, at this moment, the data streams showed they still held a great advantage.

With the interference from the star, they had completely suppressed the opponent’s defense system.

More than once, the tactical officers cheered as, without any attack from their side, the opponent’s unmanned or manned warships malfunctioned out of nowhere. Shields dropped, engines flared and died, and they were then annihilated by the Havilah fleet taking advantage of the opportunity.

More than once, they saw the opponent’s warships not being deployed in time, leading to small gaps in the front line. The coordination of the Human fleet was lagging. Had it not been for the subsequent greater cost the Humans paid to seal them, the Havilahs would have already taken the opportunity to expand the gaps into a rout.

Even the enemy’s industrial supply system was greatly weakened. They had not encountered that kind of overwhelming, endless space mine and missile attack for a long time. The flow of metal from the planet below was slowing down.

However, their own logistical supply remained consistently abundant.

Although that Flying Star had only 40% of its mass left after the long journey and consumption, it was still sufficient to supply a battle of this magnitude.

Most importantly, their industrial production and material transfer were not affected by the star at all. This was because their material technology was more advanced, and their spacecraft had stronger survival capabilities!

As another of the opponent’s largest warships was annihilated in a blinding flash, in a certain local battlefield, their side once again gained a certain advantage.

And this time, the advantage seemed different from before. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Previous advantages were merely tactical—a ship lost here, a squadron pushed back there. But this time, the direction of this local battlefield seemed to be able to affect a wider space...

Including Heimerlan, all high-ranking officials of the Havilah Civilization felt a faint expectation and a slight tension in their hearts. They leaned forward.

At this moment, the most favorable outcome for their side was to use this advantage to tear apart the space gun turret link on the left flank. This would give their 771st Fleet more space to maneuver.

The command was sent.

Soon, those 109 space gun turrets were destroyed by a concentrated volley, turning into drifting slag. The 771st Fleet roared through the gap, gaining room to maneuver.

Next, the most favorable development was to maneuver at full speed and support the 625th Fleet in annihilating the opponent’s sub-core level warship...

The tactical display shifted. The opponent’s sub-core level warship fired its thrusters in panic, escaping the encirclement. It was not destroyed by their side.

However, it was already severely damaged, trailing atmosphere and coolant. It could not return to the battlefield for a short time. Without its support, this area of space would likely be taken by their side.

Although this was not the optimal outcome, it could at least be considered sub-optimal, acceptable, and good.

Next...

The course of the battle largely developed according to Heimerlan’s plan. And the achievement of each development node further elevated Heimerlan’s excitement.

By this point, people’s faces in the conference room even showed uncontrollable smiles. The tension was breaking.

At this moment, people could see the opponent’s strong will to fight—that unyielding, suicidal spirit of fighting to the death. But at the same time, people could also see that even with such a strong fighting will from the opponent, the course of the battle did not shift according to their will.

Physics and logistics were king. The battle continued to irresistibly develop in a direction favorable to the Alliance!

Victory was assured!

Suddenly, a blinding light saturated the sensors.

Accompanied by the sudden burst of light from a large-yield hydrogen bomb explosion on First Planet’s surface—a final act of denial—and accompanied by the complete destruction of numerous industrial facilities, the Human fleet broke formation.

It was a rout.

Accompanied by the desperate escape of the Human Civilization’s surviving warships fleeing into deep space, enthusiastic applause and cheers suddenly erupted in Conference Room One.

Clearly, at this moment, the Human side had realized that the battle could not be turned around, and that it was futile. To avoid further losses, they had actively abandoned First Planet!

Heimerlan slowly stood up, his face full of excitement, his hands trembling slightly.

"We won!" he declared, his voice echoing in the hall. "From now on, First Planet is ours!"

"We have finally completely lifted the resource shackles," he thought, looking at the burning planet on the screen. "And without resource limitations, what advantage do you Human Civilization have against us?!"