Episode 274

Since I update irregularly, sometimes you get two days in a row. It happens.

"I’m not sure I have the right to say this, considering how many people I’ve put in the ground," Phantom began, breaking a heavy silence.

"I’m hardly what you’d call 'normal.' However, I do like to think I still possess a shred of personal ethics. If I lose that, I’m pretty sure I stop being human. At least, that’s how I see it. The only people I’ve killed were... well, beasts who didn’t deserve to occupy space in this universe."

Phantom crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe with a casual, brooding air.

"I’m against it too," Marl added, her voice firm. "Killing people outside of war or self-defense is just... it's a line you don't cross. Even if it could save more lives, it has to be the absolute last resort. Otherwise, like Phantom said, you have to wonder if you’re even a person anymore."

"Amen to that," Taro said, nodding along. He scanned the room, looking at his ragtag crew before turning back to Dean. "Look, we’ve got the galaxy’s greatest assassin on speed dial. If we wanted to, we could have erased every annoying rival CEO or obstacle in our path. But we didn't. I take pride in that, and I'm not about to swap styles now."

Assassination. If I said the temptation never crossed my mind, I’d be a massive liar.

If we’d just 'removed' the top brass, the war with the Mercenaries would’ve been a cakewalk. We might’ve even stopped the Enzio Alliance from blowing those EAP civilian stations to kingdom come. Who knows how the butterfly effect would’ve played out, but we definitely could’ve kept the body count lower.

Taro had lost plenty of people in the meat grinder of war—familiar faces, subordinates he’d shared drinks with, acquaintances he’d actually liked. I could have saved them, his brain whispered, lining up all the "Greater Good" justifications like a row of ducks. Kill the few to save the many. It was a tempting logical trap, but he’d grit his teeth and held back. He had never once given the order to assassinate.

"General Dean," Koume’s calm, level voice cut through the mood. "Is His Majesty the Emperor a tyrant? Does he make the people suffer so much that such a fate would be deserved?"

Dean didn't even look at her. "No," he denied flatly. "She’s a wise ruler. Mostly she just reigns, but she has the stones to take decisive action when it counts. She’s a pitiable woman, really... Hmm. Well, as the girl says, assassination stays as the final resort. If she knew the situation, she’d probably volunteer for it herself, but the political fallout of getting caught is too high. Let’s move to Plan B."

Dean spoke with the breezy lack of guilt only a high-ranking official could manage.

Typical Dean, Taro thought, mentally rolling his eyes. He probably had this planned from the start. Dean was a General of the Galactic Empire, sure, but he was also a director at Rising Sun. He got the daily management reports. There was no way he didn't already know exactly how Taro’s crew operated and what their "no-murder-for-hire" policy looked like.

"Hey, can I jump in?" Alan asked, raising a finger. "I get that the vibe is 'Rescue the Emperor,' and that’s cool. But what did you mean by 'maintaining the status quo' earlier?"

Marl nodded in agreement, and the spotlight shifted back to Taro.

"What do you mean 'what'? It’s exactly what it sounds like," Taro answered casually. "Remember that massive communication blackout we had a while back?"

Alan looked confused for a second, then his eyes went wide as the realization hit him like a freight train.

"The Neural Network Collapse! Oh, hell, I get it now. The mastermind wants the Emperor gone? Not just the person, but the office. They want an empty throne so there's no final authority."

"Bingo," Taro said. "The only reason humanity is still functioning right now is because the Emperor used an Imperial Decree to force things together. I swear, if this weren't an empire, humanity would’ve been checkmated months ago."

"I can't argue with that," Alan muttered. "But does that mean the network is going to collapse again? No, wait... it’s already happening, isn't it? A network that feeds you garbage is as useless as no network at all."

"Exactly. I don't know the techy details, but since everyone switched to using Communication Relay Ships, the bad guys couldn't do the same trick as last time. So they changed tactics to 'Information Chaos.' It explains everything. The net isn't totally dead like before—it’s just just 'mostly' usable and 'completely' confusing."

"Hmm... Hey, Dean." Alan looked at the General. "I know it’s classified, but what does military Intelligence have? As a General, you’ve got the high-level clearance. Where is this crap coming from?"

Everyone leaned in, eyes full of hope. Dean shrugged. "No idea," he said bluntly.

As the room groaned at the anticlimax, Dean raised an eyebrow. "Listen, this is actually the important part. This 'Deceptive Communication' is happening on a galactic scale. Theoretically, it is impossible for the source to be unknown. Yet, it is unknown. That fact alone tells us exactly who is doing it."

Dean tapped the screen, bringing up a map of the star systems. "There are only two entities in the galaxy capable of generating this much signal," he explained. "Since the first one—humanity—isn't doing it, that only leaves one candidate."

"Is it... the WIND?" Marl whispered.

Dean nodded. "Your previous reports were invaluable. A Cyberized WIND is a straight-up nightmare, but it’s also proof they have god-tier information tech. Combine that with the way they used the Enigma to form a network, and the conclusion is simple. This is an attack. An offensive against humanity."

A heavy, oppressive silence settled over the Bridge. Taro and the others had suspected as much, but hearing a General confirm it was like a punch to the gut.

"I managed to snag an undisclosed report on the previous Neural Network Collapse," Dean continued. "The official version blamed things like component lifespan or the Stepping-stone Effect of pulsed Radiation Particles. But there was a footnote. It mentioned the possibility of a Backdoor in the hardware itself."

The map vanished, replaced by a giant, high-res photo of a Drive Particle Detection Element. It was a mess of semi-transparent layers and technical annotations, but the central core—nearly half the device—was just an eerie, solid black void.

"As you all know, the neural net runs on Drive Particles. Every piece of comms gear uses these elements. And, as we also know, humanity doesn't actually know how to make them from scratch. We just... have them. That blacked-out section? We still have no idea what it does. But the tech won't turn on without it. The theory is that someone built an 'invite only' entrance into our hardware."

Silence again. Taro felt his face twitch as a truly disgusting thought bubbled up.

"Even with all the corruption, the military isn't entirely composed of morons," Dean said. "When we started deploying the relay ships under the Imperial Decree, they installed safety overrides on every element. Apparently, our analysis has progressed enough to at least do that much. I suspect the only reason the network hasn't completely imploded yet is because those safeties are holding the line."

On the screen, new parts were added to the element, with wiring spreading out like tree roots. Compared to the original alien complexity, the human additions looked like a high school science project, but they were clearly doing something.

"So, the first Neural Network Collapse was definitely them too," Alan said bitterly.

"Wait. If that’s true..." Marl looked pale, her brow furrowed. "Dean, if you’re right, this is a disaster. It means... it means the enemy actually knows how to use the 'Unknown' parts of our own technology. How is that even—"

That’s the nightmare thought I was having, Taro realized. He finished her sentence for her.

"Just a 'maybe,' but... are the Drive Particle Detection Elements 'Made by WIND'? Or have they just spent more time reading the manual than we have?"

It was a bombshell, but nobody looked shocked. They were all too busy being depressed by the logic of it. Dean took a long breath and shook his head.

"Who knows? But the result is the same. This is an attack, and we have to defend ourselves. It also forces us to admit something I find deeply unpleasant: we have consistently underestimated the WIND."

Dean lowered his eyes, clearly including himself in that "we."

"I see," Koume said, her voice cutting through the gloom with its usual poise. "It appears they have climbed another step above our expectations, General Dean."

She stood perfectly straight, smoothing her skirt with her hands. She waited for the General's nod before continuing.

"Combat and tactics—that was the limit of the enemy we imagined. But looking at the current theater... I see. They are already masters of Strategy. We certainly can't afford to be lazy anymore."