What was this supposed to meant for themself? That they had long since lost their foresight? Or that the Indus people were cowards, ? No. What cowards?
Although the emperors, empresses, and presidents were furious that such crucial information had been kept from them—and that their intelligence agencies, which should have uncovered it long ago, had utterly failed—they could not escape one undeniable truth.
No galactic power at their level could be called cowardly. Least of all the Indus Imperium, whose strength existed on a plane even beyond their own.
Each of them knew, deep down, that if war were ever to break out between their empires and the Indus Imperium, they would not be able to withstand its might. Obliteration would be the likely outcome, just as it had been for the Star Federation.
Even if all six galactic powers were to unite, at best they could only contain the Indus Imperium in a stalemate. They would still be unable to defeat it, or even inflict severe suffering upon it. Such was the overwhelming power of the Imperium.
The six emperors, empresses, presidents, and council heads looked at one another. From their expressions alone, it was clear. Each of them was thinking the same thing.
They could not help but sigh loudly. They all recognized—though none would ever admit it—that the Indus Imperium had played its cards extremely well and, once again, had proven it was still many steps ahead of them.
They quickly hid their frustration and complaints, suppressing those thoughts and emotions before they could linger on their faces for long.
Soon after, they declared their intention to join the Indus Imperium in leaving the galaxy as well, no matter the cost they would have to pay. Swearing loyalty to the Indus Imperium, however, was impossible for them.
The Indus Imperium's emperor was, for a moment, intrigued by the idea of taking them on as his vassals. In the end, he chose not to pursue it, and he had his reasons. All the powers standing before him were long established on the galactic stage.
Some were older than his own empire, while others were just as ancient. Through the counsel of his predecessor, and even his predecessor's predecessor, he had learned a hard truth: one cannot force submission upon others. No one can know when fortune will turn in favor of those who were once subjugated, bringing chaos down upon the empire that bound them.
There was another reason as well. Each of those powers possessed their own people, cultures, and ways of thinking—things that could not be reshaped in a short span of time. Conquering other races when it was unnecessary was simply not worth the cost. Sometimes, leaving an escape path was the wiser choice.
Remembering all this, the emperor eventually agreed to their request, though not without demanding a price.
What that cost was, Ethan had no idea. It was never mentioned in any report on the Galactic Net. The only thing he truly believed was that the Indus Imperium stood on a level far above all others. As for the rest, he dismissed it as speculation. After all, how could mere reports ever know the words of wisdom passed down by the first emperor to those who would come after him?
In any case, once the cost to be paid by the six galactic powers—and even several other major powers—was settled, they began their preparations and started evacuating their people, or at least what remained of them.
Over the full ten years of planning and preparation, many of these powers were affected by wars that eventually reached their own borders, disrupting countless lives. While the loss of life was not considered significant by their standards, they still lost billions when enemy forces, in desperate attacks, destroyed several of their habitable planets along with everyone living on them.
Regardless, it proved to be a harsh lesson for many of them, and a breaking point that forced them to accelerate the evacuation. They took those who were still alive, knowing that failure to act would cause the foundations of their empires to collapse.
Soon after, they all formally exited the Milky Way.
One by one, the massive fleets passed through a colossal ring-like structure, larger than a star in the Solar System itself.
With that, all the world ships departed the galaxy.
With that, all the world ships departed the galaxy.
And so they began making their way toward the Andromeda Galaxy. What a long journey it had been, Ethan sighed as he thought about it.
By now, almost five years had passed since they had entered the quantum tunnel, steadily moving toward Andromeda. In just a few hours at most—if he remembered correctly—they were finally expected to exit the tunnel. One he had already grown tired of.
Not because it lacked beauty. The view was magnificent, unlike anything he had ever seen during normal FTL travel. For all eighteen years of his life in this world, the sight of the quantum tunnel had been the same: endless waves of green light, streaked with floating, purple, leaf-like fragments drifting through the scene. It was magical, to say the least. A view that could captivate anyone.
And Ethan had been no exception.
But time had a way of dulling even wonder. Eventually, he grew tired of the magic. Tired of seeing it. Tired of remaining there. Sadly, this would not be the last quantum tunnel transit for their fleets of world-ships. Just after exiting this one, they would have to enter another shortly afterward.
The journey, it seemed, was far from over. Though this second passage would be shorter, lasting around one and a half years. After that, they would finally arrive in the Andromeda Galaxy.
It was something many across the fleet were excited about. Ethan felt the same, though not as strongly. Most of his time was spent inside his gaming pod, immersed in the game. He was nearing its final point and was about to become the first among billions of players to complete it, unlocking new maps and receiving a unique gift he had been looking forward to.
The sudden sound of boots broke him out of his thoughts.
Ethan turned toward the door and saw his brother, Duke Maximus Cross, entering the hall with hurried steps. His expression made it clear that he was deeply frustrated about something.
Seeing this, Ethan immediately shifted his focus and regained his composure. Slipping back into the role of an emperor, he smiled and said, "Come, sit, Maximus."
Maximus did so, looking at Ethan with expectation. He clearly wanted to say something, but as he opened his mouth, he closed it again, as if unsure where to begin.
Ethan chuckled softly. "Speak your mind, brother. There's no need to hesitate over your thoughts."
Brother emperor , I can't accept this ," Maximus said, his voice echoing in the vast hall.