**Chapter 46: The Galactic Community**
**Day 1,217.**
**Location: The Galactic Hub – Sector Prime.**
**Current Status: Panicked Analysis.**
**Mood: Bearish.**
The universe runs on math.
Civilizations rise and fall based on resource allocation, energy output, and the logistical efficiency of their fleets. A Type-1 civilization controls a planet. A Type-2 controls a star. A Type-3 controls a galaxy. The hierarchy is rigid, the brackets are defined, and the leaderboard has remained static for fifty thousand cycles.
The Zorgon Hegemony was a high-tier Type-2. They were the bullies of the local cluster, a species of min-maxers who had optimized the fun out of war.
And they had just been deleted by a rounding error.
In the geometric center of Sector Prime, inside a structure composed entirely of solidified data streams, the **Consortium of High Logic** was in session. This wasn't a government; governments were messy. This was the Board of Directors for the galaxy's economy.
"Reviewing the footage again," a voice echoed. It didn't come from a throat, but from a vibrating pillar of blue crystal—Director Aion.
A holographic display, spanning a kilometer in width, replayed the final moments of General Xar. It showed the grey, silent death of the **[Theater of Silence]**. It showed the Zorgon fleet scattering like frightened krill.
And then, it showed the graph.
Guest_01 stood before the Board. His avatar was currently rendered as a simple, unassuming human in a grey suit, a form he found ironically comforting after his time on Earth.
"Explain the Y-axis," Director Aion demanded.
"The Y-axis represents Energy Output Potential," Guest_01 said calmly.
"And the X-axis?"
"Time. Specifically, twenty-four-hour standard cycles."
The Board stared at the red line representing the entity known as 'Shigu'.
In biological organisms, growth follows a curve. It spikes during puberty/evolution, plateaus at maturity, and declines with entropy.
Shigu's line didn't curve. It didn't plateau.
It went up.
"It is a vertical line," a gaseous entity from the Ventus Trade Guild pointed out. "That implies infinite acceleration. Physics does not allow for infinite acceleration. The energy requirement would consume the universe."
"Correct," Guest_01 nodded. "By all known laws, he should not exist. Every morning, his density increases. His mana capacity expands. His muscle fibers harden. The rate is consistent. Compound interest of ten percent."
The room went silent. These were creatures of commerce. They understood compound interest better than they understood empathy.
"Ten percent... daily?" Director Aion's crystal body dimmed in horror. "For how long?"
"Day 1,187 was the Zorgon incident," Guest_01 said. "Today is Day 1,217. Since the invasion, his power has increased by a factor of approximately seventeen."
Guest_01 tapped the console.
"If we wait another month, he will be strong enough to crack a planet by sneezing. If we wait a year? He will be able to bench-press a black hole."
"We must liquidate him," the Zorgon Representative—a backup AI since the Emperor was currently hiding in a nebula—screeched. "Launch the Star-Eater torpedos. Collapse the local sun."
"Inefficient," Guest_01 countered. "He captured a Void Lord. He turned Az-Gorath into a pocket ornament. If you throw a sun at him, he will likely thank you for the heat source."
"Then what do we do?" Aion asked. "We cannot ignore an Anomaly of this magnitude. If he decides to leave his gravity well, he destabilizes the power balance of the entire quadrant."
Guest_01 smiled. It was the smile of a man who had seen the face of god and realized god was bored out of his mind.
"Shigu is not a conqueror, Directors. He is a gamer. He does not want territory. He wants content."
Guest_01 adjusted his tie.
"We don't send a fleet. We send an invite."
***
**Earth Orbit – The Skyhook**
**Day 1,217.**
**Location: 35,000 Kilometers above Ecuador.**
**Player: Shigu.**
Construction is relaxing.
There is something meditative about weaving carbon nanotubes with your bare hands. While the rest of the world was busy looting Zorgon scrap or frantically trying to build rocket ships to Mars, I had decided to speed up the infrastructure.
I was currently floating in geostationary orbit, holding the tether of the world's first Space Elevator.
"Tension is good," I muttered, plucking the cable. It hummed with a frequency that would have shattered a normal eardrum. "Zero, how's the anchor point?"
**[Ground Station 'Atlas' is secure, Architect. The Earth Elementals have fused the base into the planetary crust. Structural integrity is at 400%.]**
"Good. Let's finish the counterweight."
I looked at the asteroid I had dragged over from the belt earlier that morning. It was a jagged rock the size of Manhattan.
I placed my hand on the asteroid.
**[Skill: Molecular Fusion.]**
My mana, now so dense it felt like liquid gold running through my veins, flooded the rock. The stone groaned, heated up, and then flowed like water. I reshaped it, smoothing the edges, carving out docking bays, airlocks, and a very nice rotating restaurant at the top.
In ten minutes, the asteroid was a pristine orbital station.
**[Project Complete: The Bifrost Elevator.]**
**[Experience Gained: Minimal.]**
I sighed. "Minimal XP. The story of my life."
It had been thirty days since the invasion. Thirty days of peace. Thirty days of compounding growth.
On Day 1,187, I had struggled—briefly—against a Void Lord.
Today, on Day 1,217, I was roughly seventeen times stronger than that version of myself.
I wasn't just overpowered anymore. I was moving into a realm of existence where "power" was becoming an abstract concept. I didn't walk; I pushed the universe underneath me. I didn't breathe; I cycled the atmosphere.
"Architect," Zero interrupted my existential brooding. **[Proximity Alert. Unidentified vessel entering the system. Vector: High-Polar Orbit.]**
"Zorgon?" I asked, perking up. Maybe they brought friends.
**[Negative. The energy signature is... polite.]**
"Polite?"
**[It is hailing us on an open diplomatic frequency. It is playing classical music. Specifically, Bach's Cello Suite No. 1.]**
I floated away from the counterweight, brushing asteroid dust off my hands.
"Well," I grinned. "That's a refreshing change from 'WE WILL CONSUME YOUR FLESH'."
"Put them on screen. And tell Ren to put pants on. We have company."
***
**The Meeting**
**Location: The Tungsten Spire - Earth Surface.**
**Attendees: The Inner Circle.**
The alien ship didn't land. It descended.
It was a beautiful thing, shaped like a teardrop of spun gold and white ceramic. It didn't use thrusters; it moved via gravity manipulation, sliding through the air without disturbing a single cloud.
It hovered silently over my base. A beam of soft light deposited three figures onto the landing pad.
I stood there, flanked by Ren (who was standing on his own two legs now, though he still leaned on a cane made of Void-solidified shadow) and Damon (who was wearing a tuxedo over his plate armor, looking ridiculous).
The lead alien was tall, thin, and comprised of what looked like violet glass. It wore robes that shimmered with constellations that moved in real-time.
It bowed. A low, sweeping gesture of respect.
"Greetings, Anomaly," the alien said. Its voice was melodic, bypassing our ears and vibrating directly in our skulls via telepathy. "I am High Broker Kael'thas of the Sylurian Trade Federation. I speak for the Community."
"Shigu," I introduced myself. "This is Ren. This is Damon. Welcome to Earth. You're the first visitor who didn't try to vaporize us within five seconds. I appreciate the restraint."
Kael'thas straightened up. His faceless glass head swirled with colors. "Violence is bad for profit margins, Architect. We observed your... dispute... with the Zorgon. Most impressive. The prompt deletion of General Xar caused the futures market on Zorgon Tritanium to crash by forty percent. We made a fortune short-selling their stock."
I blinked. "You shorted the invasion?"
"The galaxy is a marketplace," Kael'thas said, as if stating the weather. "The Zorgon deal in conquest. We deal in opportunity."
He gestured to the sky.
"Earth has passed the Great Filter. You have repelled a Type-2 civilization. By Galactic Law, you are no longer a primitive reservation. You are now a client state."
"Client state?" Ren bristled, his hand drifting toward his dagger. "Sounds like slavery with extra steps."
"Partnership," Kael'thas corrected gently. "You have resources. Mana density. Unique genetic anomalies. And, of course, Him." He pointed a glass finger at me.
"And what do we get?" I asked, crossing my arms.
"Access," Kael'thas said.
He pulled a small metallic cube from his robes and tossed it to me.
I caught it. It unfolded into a holographic map. But not a map of Earth. A map of the Galaxy.
Thousands of stars lit up. Trade routes. Danger zones. Safe harbors.
"This is the **Galactic Net**," Kael'thas explained. "It contains the coordinates of every civilized world, every registered dungeon, every auction house, and every War Zone in the Milky Way."
My eyes narrowed. "War Zone?"
"The Zorgon were a minor nuisance," Kael'thas dismissed them. "There are Empires in the Core Systems that have been warring for ten thousand years. There are creatures in the Halo Stars that eat suns. There are Tournaments held on neutron stars where the prize is a planetary system."
He stepped closer, his glass face reflecting my golden eyes.
"You are bored, Architect. Our analyst, Guest_01, was very specific about that. You sit on this rock, building elevators, waiting for a challenge that will never come. Earth is too small for you."
He gestured to the map in my hand.
"We offer you the Galaxy. We offer you the Game on its intended server."
I looked at the map. I saw the red zones. The "Level 500+ Recommended" warnings. The "Cosmic Horror Containment Sites."
My heart, which beat once every minute due to my extreme efficiency, skipped a beat.
"Ren," I said softly.
"Yeah, Boss?"
"Cancel the Mars quest."
"What?" Damon choked. "We just spent three trillion dollars on habitats!"
"Keep the habitats," I said, crushing the map cube in my hand to download the data directly into my System. "But we're setting our sights a little further."
I looked at Kael'thas.
"What's the catch?" I asked. "You aren't giving me this out of the kindness of your glass heart."
"The Community fears you," Kael'thas admitted. "You are an unregulated variable. If you stay here, your power growth will eventually cause a gravitational collapse of this sector. We want you... occupied. We want you elsewhere."
"You want to point the weapon at someone else," I translated.
"Precisely."
I laughed. It started as a chuckle and grew into a roar that shook the Tungsten Spire.
"Deal," I said.
***
**The Upgrade**
**Day 1,220.**
**Location: Global System Interface.**
**Status: Patch Day.**
The arrival of the Sylurians changed everything overnight.
We didn't just join the Galactic Community; we crashed the party. With the data Kael'thas provided, Zero was able to interface Earth's localized "Game System" with the Galactic Network.
The notifications hit every human on the planet simultaneously at noon.
*Ping.*
**[System Update: Patch 2.0 - The Stellar Horizon.]**
**[Server 'Earth' has been merged with 'Milky Way Core'.]**
**[Level Cap Increased: 100 -> 999.]**
**[New Classes Available: Star-Knight, Void-Pilot, Quantum-Mage.]**
**[Auction House: Global -> Galactic.]**
The world went insane.
Suddenly, a farmer in Idaho realized his **[Rare Corn]** was a delicacy on a planet called Xylar Prime and sold for 500 credits a bushel.
Suddenly, the Order of Truth wasn't just raiding local dungeons; they were accepting mercenary contracts to clear out space-pirate hives in the asteroid belt.
Humanity didn't tiptoe into space. They sprinted.
Ren and I stood on the observation deck of the Bifrost Space Elevator, watching the first wave of human ships—clunky, retro-fitted with Zorgon engines and painted with guild logos—docking at the station.
"It's chaotic," Ren noted, watching a ship called *The Loot Goblin* nearly crash into a Sylurian cruiser.
"It's accelerated evolution," I said. "We have six months before the Zorgon regroup, or someone worse shows up. I need humanity to be Level 200 by then."
"And you?" Ren asked. "The Broker gave you the coordinates to the 'Crucible'. You leaving?"
The Crucible. According to the map, it was a mega-structure built around a black hole in the galactic core. It was the highest-level dungeon in existence. A place where Type-3 civilizations sent their champions to die.
"Not yet," I said. "I have some shopping to do first."
I opened the Galactic Auction House interface.
My balance was currently zero Galactic Credits. However, I had inventory.
**[Item: Core of the Abyss (Mythic).]**
**[Current Bid: 0.]**
**[Buyout Price: 50 Billion Credits.]**
I posted the auction.
Instantly, the notification chime rang.
**[Item Sold.]**
**[Buyer: Anonymous (The Collective).]**
**[Funds Transferred.]**
"Fifty billion," Ren whistled. "What are you going to buy? A planet?"
"Better," I smiled.
I filtered the search results. I wasn't looking for weapons. I didn't need weapons; I *was* the weapon. I wasn't looking for armor; my skin was harder than neutronium.
I was looking for something specific. Something Guest_01 had hinted at.
**[Item: Limit Breaker Serum (Grade: Divine).]**
**[Description: Designed for species hitting the Level 999 cap. Removes soft-caps on secondary skills.]**
"I'm already infinite," I muttered to myself. "But my skills aren't."
My strength grew 10% a day. But my **[Fireball]** skill? My **[Teleport]**? Those were limited by the System's math. They had cooldowns. They had mana costs.
If I removed the limits on the *application* of my power...
I bought the serum.
A drone materialized a few seconds later, dropping a small vial of glowing liquid into my hand.
I drank it.
*Ping.*
**[System Alert: Administrative Override Detected.]**
**[User Shigu is attempting to break Skill Limits.]**
**[Calculating potential... Error... Infinity detected.]**
**[Result: Skill Cooldowns Removed. Mana Costs Removed.]**
I felt a click in my brain. The mental dampeners that kept me from spamming high-tier magic vanished.
I raised my hand.
**[Skill: Teleport.]**
Usually, teleporting across the solar system took focus. It took a split second.
Now?
I was on the moon.
Then Mars.
Then Pluto.
Then back on the deck of the Space Elevator.
It happened in the span of a single heartbeat. I hadn't moved; I had simply existed in four places simultaneously.
Ren blinked. "Did you just flicker?"
"I think I just fixed my lag," I grinned.
***
**The Challenge**
**Day 1,225.**
The integration was going smoothly. Too smoothly.
I was sitting in my office in the Tungsten Spire, watching the Galactic News Feed. A reporter with three heads was talking about the "Earth Phenomenon" and the "Market Instability" caused by my auction sale.
Suddenly, the screen went black.
A new symbol appeared. A red skull enclosed in a triangle.
**[Priority Transmission: The Warlords of the Rim.]**
A face appeared. It was scarred, grey, and looked like a shark made of granite. This was **Drakon**, the Champion of the Rim Coalition. Level 850. A being who had reportedly suplexed a destroyer.
**"CITIZENS OF EARTH,"** Drakon growled. **"AND THE ENTITY KNOWN AS SHIGU."**
I leaned back in my chair, putting my feet on the desk. "Here we go."
**"YOU HAVE ENTERED THE GREAT GAME. BUT YOU HAVE NOT PAID THE TOLL. THE SYLURIANS MAY TRADE WITH YOU, BUT IN THE RIM, WE DEAL IN BLOOD."**
Drakon held up a massive axe made of bone.
**"I AM COMING TO CLAIM YOUR CORE. I AM COMING TO TEST THIS 'INFINITE' POWER. PREPARE YOURSELF. I WILL BE THERE IN THREE CYCLES."**
The transmission cut.
Ren burst into the room. "Did you see that? Level 850! That's... that's huge. The Zorgon General was barely Level 100 by galactic standards."
"Level 850," I mused. "That sounds like a decent warm-up."
I stood up. The floor cracked slightly under my weight.
"Ren, assemble the fleet. The *human* fleet."
"Why?" Ren asked. "Are we defending?"
"No," I said, walking to the balcony. I looked up at the stars, my eyes burning with the compounding power of Day 1,225.
"Drakon said he's coming in three days. That's too long. I hate waiting."
I cracked my knuckles. The sound was like a thunderclap.
"We're going to meet him halfway."
"Halfway?" Ren paled. "That's deep space! We don't have navigational charts for the Rim!"
"We have the map," I tapped my temple. "And we have me."
I turned to my disciple.
"Get in the ship, Ren. We're going on a road trip. It's time to show the galaxy that the 'Anomaly' doesn't just sit on his throne."
I grinned, a feral, excited expression that I hadn't worn in years.
"It's time to go on the offensive."
**[Chapter 46 Ends.]**