Journey to Shelter - The Families
Caspian led both families through the air, flying at a moderate pace to accommodate those with weaker cultivation. His expression was grim, jaw set, eyes constantly scanning for threats even though the immediate danger seemed to have passed.
Behind him, Jake and Lirien flew side by side, hands clasped together. Seraphina carried Celestia, unwilling to let her daughter out of her arms even though the girl kept insisting she could fly by herself.
And Runar—the real Runar now, having seamlessly replaced his clone—flew quietly, observing everything.
Around them, thousands of other survivors were making their way toward the nearest city. The sky was filled with cultivators of all realms, families clinging to each other, some people crying, others in shock.
"I can't believe we survived," Lirien whispered. "That attack should have killed us all."
"Someone saved us," Jake said. "A hidden expert. Had to be someone incredibly powerful to teleport millions of people simultaneously."
"A Red Giant realm cultivator at minimum," Caspian agreed. "Maybe even Supernova. The spatial manipulation required..." He shook his head. "We owe that expert our lives."
Celestia glanced at Runar with a knowing look. He gave her a subtle shake of his head: Not now. Later.
She giggled quietly but said nothing.
"What's funny?" Seraphina asked, suspicious.
"Nothing, Mama! Just happy we're alive!"
As they flew, more news reached them through their terminals and the ship's communication arrays that Caspian had salvaged from the wreckage.
Gaia's voice echoed across public channels: "UPDATE: Demonic invasion force has been neutralized. Telstra is secure. Estimated casualties: four million across all continents. Rescue and recovery operations in progress."
"Four million," Jake breathed. "In just the first few minutes."
"Could have been worse," Caspian said grimly. "Much worse. If the portals had opened fifteen minutes earlier, before Gaia mobilized defenses, before the fleets arrived..." He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to.
They flew in silence for a few more minutes.
Then another announcement came through, and this one made everyone stop mid-flight:
"PRIORITY ANNOUNCEMENT: Elder Samsara has returned from Primordial Depths Secret Realm. Resurrection protocols activated. All casualties are being revived."
"What?!" several people around them shouted simultaneously.
"Resurrection?!"
"That's—that's impossible! You can't just—"
But Gaia's calm voice continued: "Elder Samsara has successfully restored all four million deceased using Samsara Rule. All injuries healed. Zero casualties. I repeat: zero casualties."
The sky erupted in cheers.
People were crying—not from grief now, but from overwhelming relief and joy. Cultivators who'd been stoically holding themselves together broke down. Families hugged each other tighter.
"The Federation," someone nearby sobbed. "The Federation really can do anything."
"Praise Elder Samsara!"
"Praise the Supremes!"
"Praise humanity!"
Jake and Lirien looked at each other with tears in their eyes. Four million people—who'd been dead—were alive again. Just like that. Because one Supernova realm cultivator decided to use his Rule comprehension for resurrection.
"This is the Federation we belong to," Jake said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "This is what humanity has become."
Caspian, usually stoic, had to wipe his eyes. "When I chose to become an ambassador, to work for the Federation's diplomatic corps... this is why. Because we're a civilization that resurrects the dead. That values every single life. That doesn't accept casualties as inevitable."
Another announcement followed shortly after:
"UPDATE: Retaliatory strike completed. Demon homeworld Cinder's Rest has been eliminated. All hostile forces neutralized. Invasion threat permanently removed."
People processed this more quietly. The demons who'd attacked them—their entire civilization—had just been wiped out. Not just defeated. Extinguished.
"An entire race planet," Seraphina whispered. "He destroyed an entire planet."
"Good," Celestia said with surprising vehemence. "They tried to kill us. They killed four million people. They deserved it."
No one disagreed.
Why Telstra Was Vulnerable - Author's Perspective
To understand why one of humanity's capital worlds had been vulnerable to invasion in the first place, one needs to know what was happening elsewhere in the Federation.
Three months prior, an ancient secret realm had opened in human territory. Not just any secret realm—this was a Primordial-grade ruin from the previous cosmic cycle, containing treasures and opportunities that could advance even Universal realm cultivators.
The realm was called Primordial Depths, and it was extraordinarily dangerous. The spatial pressure inside would instantly crush anyone below Supernova Rebirth realm. The ambient energy would corrode the souls of Neutron Star cultivators who weren't careful. Ancient formations and guardian constructs posed threats even to Black Hole realm existences.
Only the strongest could enter: Supernova Rebirth, Neutron Star, Black Hole, and Quasar realm cultivators.
One of the Eight Supremes—Supreme Eternal Sage, a Universal realm cultivator who'd lived for over ten million years—had taken personal responsibility for managing the realm's opening.
He stood at the portal gate, using his overwhelming power to hold it forcefully open. Secret realms had a nasty tendency to close at random intervals, trapping everyone inside for decades, centuries, or even millennia. With a Supreme holding it open, cultivators could enter and exit freely without fear of being trapped.
Now, from an author's perspective, an important question arises: couldn't Supreme Eternal Sage simply extract all the treasures himself?
The answer: absolutely yes.
With his Universal realm cultivation and mastery of multiple Rules, he could strip the entire secret realm bare in seconds. Reach in with his spiritual sense, identify every treasure, every resource, every artifact of value, and collect them all without even stepping inside. It would take him less time than a mortal needs to blink.
But he chose not to.
Why? Because resources given freely created weak cultivators. Resources earned through struggle, through combat, through risking death in ancient ruins—those created strong cultivators.
The secret realm was training. A tempering ground. A place where Supernova and Neutron Star realm cultivators could fight for opportunities, test themselves against ancient dangers, compete with each other, and either advance their cultivation or die trying.
This was humanity's core philosophy: strength through challenge, growth through adversity.
Giving people power made them dependent. Making them earn power made them powerful.
So Supreme Eternal Sage stood guard at the portal, ensuring safety and fairness, but refusing to do the work for them. The younger generations had to prove themselves worthy.
The result of this policy: nearly every human cultivator above Supernova Rebirth was currently in Primordial Depths. Thousands of the Federation's most powerful warriors, all concentrated in one location, competing for ancient treasures.
This left Telstra's defenses... manageable, but not overwhelming. Red Giants and below were stationed for planetary defense. Plenty for normal threats. Not enough for a coordinated demon invasion.
The Cinderfiends had been watching. Waiting. Gathering intelligence.
And when they saw this golden opportunity—Telstra's strongest defenders absent, only Red Giant realm cultivators and below remaining for planetary defense—they struck.
It was excellent strategy. It nearly worked.
Nearly.
The Supernova's Response
Elder Samsara had been deep in Primordial Depths when the alert reached him.
The secret realm was vast—spanning its own pocket dimension, filled with continent-sized ruins and ocean-deep treasures. He'd been exploring an ancient temple, seeking enlightenment stones that could help him advance his Samsara Rule comprehension.
Then his communication jade lit up with emergency priority.
TELSTRA UNDER ATTACK. CAPITAL WORLD INVASION. REQUESTING SUPERNOVA+ ASSISTANCE.
He teleported to the realm's exit immediately. Supreme Eternal Sage, standing at the portal gate, nodded at him. "Go. We have things handled here."
Elder Samsara stepped through the portal, then activated his fastest movement technique.
Space folded. Dimensions compressed. He crossed the distance from the secret realm to Telstra—normally a three-week journey even at FTL speeds—in 0.3 seconds.
He emerged above Telstra's capital district just as the last demons were being eliminated by Red Giant cultivators.
His spiritual sense expanded across the entire planet instantly. A Supernova's perception was terrifying—he could observe every continent, every ocean, every living being simultaneously. Process it all without strain.
He saw the damage. The destroyed buildings. The fractured landscapes.
And he saw the dead.
Four million souls, still hovering near their bodies. Not yet fully dissipated into the reincarnation cycle. Death was recent enough—within the last fifteen minutes—that the soul-body connection could theoretically be restored.
Most cultivators couldn't do it. Resurrection required Rule-level comprehension of Life and Death simultaneously, plus the ability to manipulate the reincarnation cycle itself.
Elder Samsara had spent six thousand years mastering exactly that.
He raised one hand, his face serene, and spoke two words: "Samsara Reversal."
His Samsara Rule activated across the entire planet simultaneously.
It was one of the most complex techniques in existence—requiring him to manipulate Life Rule, Death Rule, Yin Rule, and Yang Rule in perfect harmony, all while touching on the fundamental principles of reincarnation itself.
In the ash-covered streets of a thousand cities, bodies began reforming.
Not healing—that was too simple. This was reverse-time reconstruction applied to individual biology. Ash became flesh. Scattered atoms reorganized. Burned bones regenerated. Destroyed organs rebuilt themselves cell by cell.
And the souls, suspended in that liminal space between life and death, felt a pull. A call. An irresistible force drawing them back to their bodies.
Four million souls slammed back into four million bodies.
Four million people gasped simultaneously as life returned.
Time elapsed: 1.7 seconds.
Then Elder Samsara made a second gesture, and a wave of healing energy washed over the planet. Every injury sustained during the attack—broken bones, burned flesh, traumatized minds, lingering poison, soul damage—was mended in an instant.
Time elapsed: 0.3 additional seconds.
Total time: 2.0 seconds. Four million resurrected. Everyone healed.
The entire planet erupted in celebration.
"I'm ALIVE!"
"We're—we're all alive!"
"Elder Samsara! Thank you!"
"The Federation saves us! The Federation protects us!"
But Elder Samsara's expression remained cold. His eyes narrowed, focusing on something in the distance that no one else could perceive.
His spiritual sense had traced the demons' portal signatures back to their origin point. It was a technique that required mastering Space Rule and Time Rule—backtracking spatial distortions through dimensional echoes.
He could see it clearly now: Cinder's Rest. A massive ash-world in demon territory, located 847 light-years from Telstra. Home to billions of Cinderfiends. A planet the size of 600 suns—literally, its diameter was six hundred times larger than Sol's.
That's where the invasion had originated. That's where Lord Ashclaw had coordinated the attack from.
Elder Samsara's face remained emotionless as he made his decision.
"Retribution," he said simply.
He teleported.
Not normal teleportation—Supernova realm spatial manipulation. He crossed 847 light-years in 0.4 seconds, appearing in orbit above Cinder's Rest.
The planet was monstrous. A dark sphere of compressed ash and obsidian, covered in ember-veins that glowed like lava rivers. Its surface was dotted with massive cities built from burned materials, home to a civilization that had existed for a hundred thousand years.
Elder Samsara felt no mercy.
These beings had chosen to attack humanity. To murder millions. To wage war.
Now they would face the consequences.
He raised one finger and pointed it at the planet.
Then he released a technique he'd created specifically for large-scale annihilation: Death Absolute - Extinction Beam.
A beam of pure death-aspected energy erupted from his fingertip. Not fire, not plasma, not any physical force. This was conceptual death given physical manifestation—the principle of cessation, of ending, of returning to nothing, compressed into a ray that spanned only a centimeter wide but carried the weight of a collapsing star.
The beam crossed the distance to Cinder's Rest in 0.1 seconds and struck the planet's core.
For one moment, nothing seemed to happen.