Humanity is missing, luckily I have billions of clones-Chapter 299: The Time Has Come

Lyra G16 was a titan of cosmic fire, possessing a radius of approximately 750,000 kilometers. Its total surface area was staggering, measuring approximately seven trillion square kilometers of churning plasma.

Of this vast expanse, the surface area directly facing First Planet amounted to approximately 3.5 trillion square kilometers. In a natural state, the light from this area would scatter into the void. But now, a significant portion of the starlight from those trillions of square kilometers had been seized, bent, and condensed.

It was a weaponization of nature itself.

Just like the magnifying glass Tom used to burn ants when he was a child—the convex glass concentrating the gentle warmth of the sunlight into a pinpoint of searing death—the same principle was now playing out on a stellar scale.

Now, this oversized magnifying glass, combining the hard technology of intelligent civilizations with the innate, mystical abilities of the Electromagnetic Creatures, was focusing the wrath of a star directly onto First Planet.

Normally, First Planet, sitting in its orbital cradle, received only one hundred millionth of the total stellar radiation energy. It was a gentle bath of light. Now, that number has suddenly increased to one hundred thousandth.

Although this fraction still seemed insignificant compared to the total energy radiated by a star, in absolute terms, it was a cataclysm. It was a thousand times greater than the energy that First Planet had received in the past!

For the atmosphere and surface of First Planet, it was equivalent to the star suddenly becoming a thousand times brighter and a thousand times closer!

Such intense energy radiation immediately triggered a series of catastrophic consequences. The atmosphere didn’t just heat up; it screamed.

Unfortunately for Tom, even with the perfect combination of his technology and the talent of the natives, the Electromagnetic Creatures could not sustain such a large-scale condensation of stellar light for very long. The physical strain of bending light on that scale was immense. It could only last for a few minutes.

But a few minutes was enough to rewrite the history of a world.

After the climax, the brightness of the star seen from First Planet decreased sharply, returning to a bearable magnitude. Meanwhile, the brightness of stars seen elsewhere in the system returned to normal levels.

However, the silence that followed was heavy.

In the solar atmosphere, at least one-third of the tens of millions of Electromagnetic Creatures had died. They didn’t leave bodies; they simply dissipated, their energy structures unraveling as they merged into the star they had tried to tame.

This was a necessary price to pay. Not only did Tom understand this, but Electric Disaster did too. Perhaps because the Electromagnetic Creatures had a different attitude towards life and death—viewing themselves as parts of a greater whole—Electric Disaster did not object at all when Tom proposed this suicidal plan.

At this moment, the Stellar Cannon had done its work.

The devastation was absolute. Not only were hundreds of millions of large and small spaceships, orbital bases, defensive fortresses, and satellites in space wiped out—vaporized instantly by the thermal shock—with only a few large spaceships managing to escape unscathed, but First Planet was also completely transformed.

The side facing the star had been completely engulfed in flames. The rock itself had liquefied, with lava covering every square inch of the hemisphere. The endless lava "steam"—vaporized rock and heavy metals—escaping into space briefly gave First Planet a terrifying, glowing atmosphere of superheated gas.

The alteration of the geological strata caused unprecedentedly violent volcanic eruptions and earthquakes on its surface. The shockwaves traveled through the planet’s core. Even the side facing away from the star, the "dark" side, was not spared.

Countless buildings collapsed into rubble, countless underground facilities were crushed by shifting tectonic plates, and countless intelligent beings perished in the dark, screaming as their world shook apart.

However, compared to the molten hell of the sun-facing side, the damage to the back side was infinitesimally smaller. Some industrial facilities, deep underground or heavily shielded, could even continue to operate.

However, Tom was not worried about this survival rate at all.

The reason was simple: the industrial system of a civilization is not a collection of isolated islands; it is a cohesive and highly integrated organism. Suddenly losing half of it wouldn’t result in a 50% reduction in industrial capacity, but rather a near-total loss!

It’s like cutting off half of a human body; the result isn’t that the person loses half their lifespan or walks half as fast. The result is that they die completely.

Without energy from the solar collectors, how can the smelters operate? Without the supply of raw materials from the surface mines, the factories cannot start their assembly lines. The chain was broken.

Of course, within this remaining small part of the industrial system, there are always some smaller, independent systems that remain intact and operational.

Furthermore, with this remaining half, the time and resources required to repair the entire system are much less than those required to rebuild it from scratch from the stone age.

Given the current situation, given enough time, the Allied fleet, with Akakenu AI’s terrifying calculation capabilities, could still rebuild in a relatively short period.

Those few minutes of stellar fire felt like an eternity.

Finally having endured that hellish period, a still-shaken Heimerlan stood on the bridge of the Honor. He quickly received a damage report from Akakenu.

His eyes instantly turned red, blood vessels bursting from the stress.

Millions of spaceships. Tens of thousands of bases. And more than 100 billion people.

Wiped out. In just a few minutes. The population of the Havilah Civilization had been decimated.

"Stay calm! What we need to think about now is what to do next!"

Akakenu’s stern reprimand cut through the air. The AI’s voice was devoid of grief, purely logical, which quickly calmed Heimerlan, who was on the verge of a total psychological collapse.

Amidst heavy breathing, clutching the console for support, Heimerlan murmured, "As far as I know... even Electromagnetic Creatures cannot use this method of condensing starlight to such a large extent for a long time. It defies physics. They cannot repeat it in a short period of time. They are exhausted."

He looked up, a glimmer of desperate hope returning. "Furthermore, now that we know of the existence of Electromagnetic Creatures, and given our conscious precautions, they are unlikely to launch a second attack successfully. At this stage, the most important thing is..."

He slammed his fist onto the tactical map.

"Back up! Back up!"

Heimerlan roared at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking: "Withdraw all warships from Second Planet! Abandon the offensive! Return to First Planet immediately to buy us time to rebuild our industrial system!"

He turned to the AI interface. "As long as we can rebuild our industrial system, we can still win the final victory! Akakenu, your industrial capacity remains intact. Although we have suffered heavy losses of civilians and engineers, our soldiers have not been greatly diminished. Given time, we can still defeat Human Civilization!"

"Alright. Then, get back to defense immediately!"

The alliance’s top leadership made a decision in a very short time. As a result, the panicked alliance quickly found its leader and a direction.

At Second Planet, light-years away from the tragedy, the scene shifted.

Amidst fierce fighting, hundreds of thousands of Alliance warships received the recall order. They ceased fire, rapidly assembled into formation, and ignited their engines, attempting to disengage from the battlefield and warp back to their burning home.

Observing this from the darkness of space, a cold smile appeared on Tom’s lips.

He clearly perceived this change. He watched the enemy fleet turn their backs.

At the same time, he knew that, being at a technological disadvantage regarding engine speed and firepower, he was unable to stop these Alliance warships attempting to return to their base using conventional means.

His mind raced through the simulations: ’Once these warships return to defend First Planet, I will definitely not be able to take it down in a short time. Their defense will be ironclad. Furthermore, given Akakenu AI’s industrial capabilities, they might actually be able to rebuild the entire industrial system in a few months.’

At that time, the Electric Creatures would be exhausted. He would be unable to activate the Stellar Cannon a second time. Even if he was able to activate it, the element of surprise was gone; it would most likely be destroyed by his opponent in the early stages.

’If they return, I lose. It’s that simple.’

In the end, despite the apocalyptic damage he just dealt, he would be the one who loses the war.

The only thing he gained was a major victory in one battle, but the course of the entire war remained irreversible.

At this moment, the most crucial and essential point was simple: He had to trap them. He had to stop these hundreds of thousands of warships and prevent them from returning to their base.

So...

The time has finally come.

It was time to use the strategic weapon that had consumed a decade of his life and billions of his clones’ labor.

The Unified Force Field!

While his frontline fleets desperately entangled with the hundreds of thousands of enemy warships, throwing themselves into suicide runs to prevent them from assembling and escaping, Tom simultaneously made his move.

Dozens of giant, nondescript aerospace carriers—ships that looked like harmless freighters—rapidly approached the periphery of the battlefield.

Silently, their cargo bay doors opened.

Controlled by the hive mind, numerous robots began to push massive, glowing geometric components into the void of space.

In Conference Room One of the Honor spaceships, the alarms began to scream a new, terrifying frequency.

Akakenu’s virtual expression, usually static, turned solemn. The data coming in defied standard energy readings.

Heimerlan looked at the screen, and his blood ran cold. He recognized the energy signature.

He roared, his voice filled with terror.

"Weapons of mass destruction are coming! Prepare variable energy shields! Brace for impact!"