The laboratory was suffused with an oppressive tension.
The vast spiritual array occupying the chamber pulsed like a slumbering beast, awakening violently the instant its energy reached critical mass. Symbols shimmered, and crimson light surged from floor to dome, enveloping the entire experimental chamber.
The incubation pod trembled violently. Within, blurred red shapes resonated with the array, gradually stirring to life. Around them, several high-ranking insectoid researchers were caught in ecstatic frenzy.
“Success… it’s really successful…”
“The perfect combat body, the ultimate spiritual weapon… at last—”
Before their words could finish, the pod shuddered violently. A sudden explosion of light tore through like a clap of thunder—boom!
The crimson array flared to its maximum intensity. The glass casing of the pod shattered as if it were paper, fragments scattering in every direction. Psychic energy swept through the room like a force of annihilation.
Amid the storm, a figure stepped out calmly from the shattered pod.
Barefoot, he touched the ground. His crimson hair flared like fire amidst the torrents of energy, glowing with fierce brilliance.
He possessed an almost perfect body—bronzed skin forged like flames, tall and muscular, every inch radiating destruction and domination.
His handsome features were sculpted like a deity’s. When his eyes opened, golden-red irises shimmered like molten metal. One glance from them sent the room reeling; the air seemed to sear, and every soul quivered uncontrollably.
He was a king reborn from fire, moving with slow, deliberate steps that carried an irresistible authority. When a trembling researcher whispered, “It’s… the perfect creation we made—” the next instant, their head was gone, voice cut off abruptly.
The red-haired female insect raised her finger; psychic energy condensed into a blade. Blood dotted her face as a scornful smile lifted her lips.
“Ants dare to think they can control me?”
The other researchers tried to flee, but it was too late. Within three seconds, more than ten insects lay dead. Their bodies and brains mixed into the crimson floor.
She stood amidst the carnage, her beautiful face casual yet dangerous, as if embodying both abyss and flame.
Humming a tune, she strolled through the bodies, fingers idly brushing her attire with elegance and abandon.
“What a bunch of trash.”
She frowned, tearing off a jeweled officer’s uniform. “Do nobles really wear such pitiful things now? The insect race is truly going backward.”
At that moment, the door slid open automatically, alarms blaring:
“Warning! Experimental subject out of control! Psychic level exceeded!”
“Warning! Mental field interference breached safety threshold—”
Scores of security troops mobilized instantly, activating layered psychic suppression, interference fields, and energy shields. Yet she stepped outside for a single moment; blood fog erupted, bodies flew. Within five feet, no insect survived. Each soldier’s head exploded, consciousness shattered, psychic energy sweeping the corridor like calamity. Walls were stained dark red.
Where she stepped, a mountain of corpses and blood accumulated. Yet she remained unscathed, a faint crimson psychic shield flowing around her like a deity’s aura, isolating her from the gore. Her presence exuded chilling dominance; no insect dared oppose her.
One insect dropped to its knees, screaming in terror: “Notify the master! The ‘Puppet Refinement’ has failed!”
Her golden-red eyes flickered, as if recalling something. For a moment, her gaze deepened. She halted, turning toward the starship dock, murmuring, “…It’s time to retrieve it.”
She cut through the chaos with ruthless precision. Arriving at the dock, she strode toward a starship with unwavering resolve. Entering the cockpit, the vessel lifted smoothly, pierced the blockade, and vanished into the depths of space, leaving only flashing alarms and crimson traces behind.
Within the experimental chamber, the red glow continued, alarms wailing, the blood still fresh.
The starship traversed numerous star systems before arriving at a planet designated by the Empire as the highest-security forbidden zone.
For millennia, the planet had been surrounded by energy cannons, defensive grids, and psychic interference fields capable of destroying entire fleets. No exploration team had ever survived an approach.
This was the legendary seat of the first emperor in insect history.
He had unified the insect race, advanced interstellar civilization, established the Empire, and created the neural network system that still governed the insects—laying the foundation for their dominance in the cosmos.
The neural network still enforced his will, preventing unauthorized access. It not only blocked external threats but also self-upgraded, integrating military modules and advanced technology, eternally remaining at peak strength.
This self-evolving system of slaughter answered only to Emperor Caesar himself. Any intruder, regardless of rank or bloodline, was considered an enemy. No insect could bypass it, none could survive.
The red-haired female insect approached without hesitation.
The ship’s interface lit up; a password entry panel appeared. Her fingers danced across the console, lines of code flickering like flowing water.
The neural network responded:
【Imperial Mainframe Verification—】
【Identity Confirmed: Caesar Rehes】
【Welcome back, Master.】
【All defense locks released—】
Instantly, the entire defense grid yielded, as if the planet itself submitted to its true sovereign.
The starship landed smoothly. She strode deep into the palace, a structure she herself had built, nearly replicating the layout of the Immortal Palace.
Layered defenses activated automatically, eventually revealing an underground passage.
Descending the steps, her gaze was steady, yet her pace urgent.
At last, a black-gold coffin, sealed for a thousand years, appeared before her.
She swiftly lifted the lid.
Inside, white bones, weathered by millennia, rested upon a black silk pillow, hands clasped over the chest. Yet she paid them no heed.
Carefully, she retrieved a necklace forged from the hardest alloys in the universe, from which hung a delicate ring engraved with the Qingluan flower pattern—identical to the one Gu Qing had seen in the Immortal Palace.
She stared at the ring in silence for a long while. Finally, she placed it around her neck, pressing a hand to her chest as if embedding the lost millennia into her bones and blood.
“…Thank heavens, it’s still here.”
In that instant, she was no longer the legendary emperor, no longer a god of war, no longer a killing machine.
She was simply an insect, afraid of losing what she loved.
Moments later, lights from deep within the underground corridors brightened, inching forward.
As the illumination reached Caesar, she crouched beside the coffin, meticulously picking through the jewels on the ancient garments, examining which were valuable and which loose.
A cold mechanical voice sounded:
“Little Master, please do not damage your remains.”
Caesar looked up, scowling: “How many times do I have to tell you, don’t call me that!”
The mechanical voice continued unflinchingly:
“Apologies, Little Master. This title was set by the Great Master. You have no authority to change it. Moreover, you personally authorized Liyou to transfer highest privileges to the Great Master and agreed to this title’s use.”
Caesar’s temper flared; he leapt up, shouting: “Who… who agreed?! He was smiling so well, I was distracted looking at his face—I didn’t hear a word he said!”
Pointing at the coffin, he barked: “I’m not a child! Call me Marshal, Emperor, Caesar—anything but—”
“Little Master, please speak politely.” Liyou’s tone remained formal. “The Great Master dislikes it when you refer to yourself as ‘I’.”
Caesar nearly exploded: “Then have the Immortal himself come and scold me!”
—Silence.
After a second, Liyou replied slowly: “Apologies. Liyou has been unable to locate the Great Master to this day.”
The air stilled abruptly.
Caesar lowered his head, fingers tightening on the ring at his chest. His tone froze: “…All these thousands of years… not a single clue?”
Liyou’s voice remained cold and honest: “None, Little Master.”
“…Very well,” he murmured. “As expected. You are our joint creation. If he truly did not want to be found, how could you have succeeded?”
After a pause, it added: “Shall I terminate the search mission?”
Caesar stiffened as if struck, then recovered, anger and stubbornness plain in his tone: “…Do not terminate it! As long as you exist, continue searching!”
“…Understood. The search mission will continue.”
He lowered his head, caressing the ring, whispering: “I know he’s not that easy to kill… he’s too strong to die.”
In the silent chamber, she stood alone, light casting long shadows behind her, stretching her centuries-old longing and relentless obsession into eternity, as if waiting had never ceased.