Chapter 428: Coveted Secrets
Chapter 428: Coveted Secrets
Withdrawing entirely from a star system is a massive undertaking. After occupying such a system for centuries, any civilization would have built extensive infrastructure and relocated a significant population.
Ordinarily, a civilization might require nearly a century to withdraw completely, and even that wouldn’t be enough for a clean departure.
The Ji’s twenty-year deadline for the Swarm was clearly intended to be difficult—perhaps with ulterior motives. By forcing the Swarm to rush their withdrawal, they likely hoped something would be left behind to examine.
However, the Swarm’s personnel and unit structures were fundamentally different from those of mechanical civilizations, which greatly influenced the speed of their operations.
The Swarm didn’t have the burden of countless “individuals” to evacuate, nor did they need to dismantle colonies. If they abandoned the Fungal Carpet and fixed defenses, the Swarm could pack up and leave in mere days.
Still, since the Ji had granted twenty years, the Swarm intended to use the time to their fullest advantage.
As the Swarm began their withdrawal, various observation devices were deployed around key sites like Planet Raze, Planet Izumo, and the Swarm’s solar orbit bases.
These devices came from different factions and civilizations, but they all shared the same goal, to exploit the Swarm’s departure to uncover its secrets. During such a large-scale operation, some valuable information was bound to be exposed. While the Swarm couldn’t entirely avoid this, they could do their best to minimize the damage.
Nearly all of the Swarm’s spacefaring units and facilities were derived from, or compatible with, the Fungal Carpet. As they prepared to leave, the Swarm integrated fixed surface weapons like electromagnetic and energy cannons into their Space Octopuses. The size and number of these components made them impossible to conceal, but Luo Wen wasn’t concerned.
Such capabilities were achievable even by mechanical civilizations, so they didn’t reveal anything particularly special.
All subterranean units were quietly recalled, avoiding any exposure. Even Brood Queens were dismantled and their materials repurposed to create more Space Octopuses.
As for the Fungal Carpet, Luo Wen hesitated. Initially, he considered leaving it behind, hoping it might be overlooked. However, he quickly realized that the Ji and other factions would never mistake it for a natural plant. They would undoubtedly dissect and study it, and when its genetic structure collapsed, its artificial nature would be exposed.
Deciding it was better to avoid unnecessary risks, Luo Wen ordered the complete removal of the Fungal Carpet. It retracted underground, consuming itself in the process, and its energy was converted into Space Octopuses.
Despite the withdrawal, the Swarm didn’t entirely abandon the system. Deep within the planetary crust, numerous Fungal Carpet seeds and Brood Queen eggs were carefully buried. These were highly condensed micro-versions with exceptional concealment abilities, making them almost impossible to detect.
Only Luo Wen knew their locations, as finding them would be exponentially harder than searching for a needle in a haystack.
The only remnants left behind were the vast underground networks the Swarm had constructed over centuries. With much of the material already absorbed, restoring the terrain to its original state was impossible. As the Fungal Carpet withdrew, many areas lost structural support and began to collapse. However, some sections of the network stubbornly remained intact.
Luo Wen could only continue destroying and burying the remnants of the underground networks. As time passed, the formerly violet-gray planets began to fade, gradually regaining their original hues. However, the surfaces were marred by countless depressions and basins caused by the collapse of subterranean tunnels.
Luo Wen’s predictions proved accurate. Following the rule changes and the Swarm’s silent compliance, coupled with their careful handling of the situation, there were no new opportunities for their adversaries to attack. Interest in the Swarm-Riken dispute waned, and public attention shifted elsewhere.
However, Luo Wen knew this peace was only temporary. It was only a matter of time before another wave of trouble came their way.
To his surprise, though, nothing significant occurred. It seemed that the factions pulling strings behind the scenes were also entangled in their own power struggles, preventing any one of them from pressing their advantage.
This unexpected reprieve allowed the Swarm to endure nearly twenty years of relative calm, right up until the Ji-imposed deadline approached.
Over these years, the Swarm had gradually withdrawn 60% of their forces from the Riken System. The bases on the geological planets were mostly dismantled and relocated. However, the solar orbit base still retained a large contingent of forces.
The base, floating in the star’s orbit, didn’t have the complications of underground structures and should have been the easiest to evacuate. But it housed two megastructure units, each over 3,000 kilometers in diameter.
At the time the Ji revised their rules, these megastructures were already massive. Had they been mechanical constructs, disassembly would have taken at least a century, if not longer.
Luo Wen had the capability to rapidly break them down and recover their materials. However, with no planetary surface to obscure them, the megastructures were completely exposed. Any movement or dismantling process would be plainly visible.
To protect the Swarm’s secrets, Luo Wen had no choice but to slow the operation. He orchestrated an elaborate facade using Space Octopuses, creating the appearance of mechanical dismantling. This was also why the solar orbit base retained the largest portion of the Swarm’s forces.
Even so, the deadline was fast approaching, and progress remained unsatisfactory. Despite twenty years of work, less than a third of the megastructures had been dismantled. The prospect of completing the task in the remaining time was nothing short of impossible.
Meanwhile, the number of outsiders in the Riken System had multiplied several times over. They salivated over the sight of the Swarm’s megastructures in solar orbit.
“It looks like the Swarm won’t be able to take these behemoths with them,” one observer remarked.
“Heh, the Ji only gave them twenty years. Clearly, they had their eyes on these things from the start,” another quipped.
“This is entirely the Swarm’s fault. Such massive constructions—forget the Outer Ring—even in the Middle or Inner Circles, there are few civilizations capable of building something like this.”
“Exactly. Look at all the people gathering here—how many of them are just waiting to scavenge whatever’s left?”
Megastructures like these were rare not because of a lack of resources. Any civilization capable of colonizing other star systems could mine asteroids with ease. The rarest minerals on a homeworld were abundant in the vastness of space.
However, constructing something of this scale required far more than raw materials. As a megastructure’s size increases, so does its gravitational pull. Balancing internal gravitational forces to prevent the structure from collapsing inward required advanced knowledge of gravity and structural integrity.
This foundational challenge alone was enough to block most civilizations from even attempting such feats.
The Swarm’s megastructures were undoubtedly masterpieces. Despite having been partially dismantled, their value remained immense.
While the Swarm could hide some of their more advanced technologies, components like the bone armor and support structures could be studied and reverse-engineered through observation and measurement.
This was why, as the deadline loomed closer, more and more foreign personnel flocked to the Riken System.
Many hoped that a simple tour, a few photographs, or some gathered data could spark significant breakthroughs for their own civilizations.