The Triangulum Core Sector was a graveyard. The debris field of the Xylos Harvester Fleet stretched for a million kilometers—a grim nebula of frozen biological ichor, shattered carapace, and the dissipating radioactive dust of the Singularity Host.
David stood on the bridge of Aero One, watching the broken, flickering lights of the Stellar Forge. The colossal machine, which had turned the tide of the battle, was now silent. The crystalline lattice that harnessed the neutron stars was fractured, hairline cracks glowing with dangerous, unstable energy discharge.
"Forge integrity at 12%," Prometheus reported, its voice carrying a rare note of caution. "The Negative Mass discharge shattered the primary containment lenses. The Forge cannot sustain another fabrication cycle. It is effectively dead."
Vivian Zhou, nursing a broken arm from the g-force of the final maneuver, looked at the telemetry. "We survived the vanguard, David. But the System reward gave us the coordinates of their Homeworld. If the Harvester Fleet was just the workers… what is waiting for us at the nest?"
Seraphina pulled up the data retrieved from the System's reward packet. A holographic projection materialized in the center of the bridge. It wasn't a planet. It wasn't even a solar system in the traditional sense.
It was a Dyson Swarm. But instead of solar panels, the star was enclosed by billions of biological ships, woven together into a shell of living necrosis. They were draining their host star dry, turning it into a dim, red ember.
"That is the Xylos Prime," Seraphina whispered, revulsion clear in her voice. "It's a cage of corpses. They've consumed their own system and are using the star's dying energy to breed. If we go there with a damaged fleet, we will be eaten before we exit warp."
The Currency of Destruction
David looked at the broken Forge, then at the massive debris field of the Xylos fleet floating around them. He had liquidated the Earth's economy to turn the Forge on. He was financially zeroed out. The "Infinite Energy" bonus was spent.
But the System was, at its core, an engine of exchange.
"Prometheus," David said, his mind racing with the logic of a Tier 9 Architect. "The System assigns value to rarity and utility. What is the value of the raw materials floating in that debris field? The Xylos bio-matter is composed of hyper-evolved carbon lattices and exotic biological polymers we have never seen."
"Analysis running…" Prometheus processed the scan. "The material possesses extreme rarity. It functions as a room-temperature superconductor and a self-repairing biological armor. Estimated total material value of the destroyed fleet: $75 Trillion."
David smiled. It was the ultimate irony. The enemy had brought their own currency.
"I am claiming the salvage rights," David declared. "System, initiate Asset Liquidation Protocol. I am trading the physical mass of the destroyed Xylos fleet to the Forge. I want to 'spend' the wreckage to purchase the repair of the Forge."
It was a conceptual leap. He wasn't spending dollars; he was spending the enemy's corpses.
[DING! Asset Recognition: Xylos Bio-Matter Salvage.][Value Assessed: $75,000,000,000,000.00][Transaction Accepted: Material Conversion Protocol Initiated.]
The broken Stellar Forge hummed. It didn't use the neutron stars this time; it reversed its tractor beams. The millions of tons of Xylos debris floating in space were seized, pulled into the molecular disassemblers. The Forge ate the dead fleet, breaking it down into raw energy and atoms, using the very bodies of the invaders to heal its own fractured crystalline structure.
The cracks in the Forge glowed gold, then sealed. The lights returned to full intensity. The machine was fed.
The Final Construction: The Prometheus
"Forge operational capacity restored to 100%," Prometheus announced. "Salvage surplus remaining: $25 Trillion equivalent. Host, we have the materials and the energy. What is the final fabrication?"
David looked at Aero One. The ship had served them well, but it was an Ark, a transport vessel retrofitted for war. It was too large, too slow, and its frame couldn't handle the full output of the Tier 9 Matter Manipulation Core.
He needed a weapon. A single, concentrated point of godhood.
"Retire Aero One," David commanded. "Transfer the crew and the core consciousness to a new vessel. We are going to build the flagship. Use the Tier 9 Blueprints. I want a hull made of pure Neutronium-alloy. I want the Matter Manipulation Core integrated directly into the pilot's neural link. No crew stations. No galleys. Just a cockpit, a reactor, and the Core."
"A God-Ship," Seraphina realized. "You're building a suit of armor the size of a frigate."
"Begin construction. Designation: The Prometheus."
The Stellar Forge roared. This time, it didn't build a thousand ships. It focused all its infinite power on a single point.
Lasers woven from pure light sculpted the hull. It was small—only 300 meters long—but it was denser than a planet. It was sleek, obsidian black, and pulsed with the same violet anti-light that the Xylos Singularity had used, but controlled, harnessed. It didn't look like a machine; it looked like a shard of the night sky sharpened into a blade.
David felt the ship being born in his mind. The Nanobots in his blood sang in resonance with the ship's core.
The Integration
The transfer was immediate. Vivian and Seraphina were moved to a heavily shielded support vessel, one of the Quantum-Aero Dreadnoughts that would serve as the rearguard.
David stood alone in the airlock of the new ship, The Prometheus.
He stepped inside. There were no corridors. The moment he entered, the ship's interior shifted—Smart Matter responding to his presence. The walls dissolved and reformed around him. He didn't sit in a chair; he was suspended in the center of the ship's heart, surrounded by the swirling energy of the Matter Manipulation Core.
Neural tendrils, finer than light, extended from the walls and connected to the ports in his Nanobot suit.
Connection established.
David gasped. He was no longer a man piloting a ship. He was the ship. His skin was the Neutronium hull. His eyes were the sensor arrays that could see across light-years. His heart was the Dark Energy Reactor.
He raised his hand in the void of the cockpit. Outside, the ship's massive thrusters flared in perfect synchronization with his thought.
"System check," David's voice boomed, not from his throat, but from the ship's external speakers, vibrating the vacuum itself.
[System Online. Tier 9 Integration Complete.][Matter Manipulation Core: Active.][Targeting: Xylos Prime.]
The Final Jump Preparation
Vivian's face appeared on his internal HUD. She looked terrified and awed. "David, the energy readings coming from you… you're registering as a stellar-class object. The gravity around your hull is bending light. Are you… are you still in there?"
"I am here, Vivian," David replied, his thoughts moving at the speed of light. "But I am done building. It is time to finish this."
He looked at the tactical map. The Xylos Homeworld—the Dyson Swarm—was waiting.
"Prometheus," David addressed the AI, which was now fully merged with his own consciousness within the ship. "Plot the trajectory. Not to the edge of the system. I want to jump directly inside the Dyson Swarm. We are going to the heart of the star."
"Host, jumping inside a gravity well of that magnitude is theoretically impossible. The tidal forces will tear the warp bubble apart."
"Physics is a suggestion," David said, activating the Matter Manipulation Core. "We will rewrite the local gravity as we arrive. Initiate the jump."
The Prometheus did not accelerate. It simply ceased to exist in the Triangulum Sector.
The Belly of the Beast
The transition was instantaneous. There was no travel time. David used the Tier 9 drive to fold space completely.
He emerged in hell.
The view screen was blinding red. The Prometheus materialized inside the Xylos Dyson Swarm.
Above him, below him, all around him, were billions of writhing, biological ships. They formed a solid shell around the dying star. The heat was immense, millions of degrees, but the Neutronium hull absorbed it like a cool breeze.
The Xylos hive mind screamed. It was a psychic shockwave of confusion and hunger. They hadn't expected prey to teleport into their stomach.
Billions of eyes turned toward the single, obsidian shard floating above their star.
"They are trying to intercept," Prometheus warned. "Estimated hostile count: 40 billion units."
David looked at the swarm. It was an ocean of death. But he had the power of the Architects.
"Let them come," David thought. "I have spent trillions to get here. I have spent a planet. I have spent a civilization. Now…"
He activated the Matter Manipulation Core, focusing it not on a ship, but on the dying star beneath them.
"…I am going to spend a Sun."
He reached out with the ship's manipulators, grasping the magnetic fields of the red giant star. He wasn't going to shoot the Xylos. He was going to weaponize their own food source.
The final battle for the galaxy had begun, and David was holding the trigger of a supernova.