CHAPTER 17: CH - 17 SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT.

As William gave the command, Ascendency—Ragnarok’s sentinel AI—nodded once, her expression calm and composed.

"Understood, Master," she said. With a graceful turn, she approached the main interface, her fingers moving effortlessly across the translucent controls of the Ragnarok’s command console. Streams of light danced beneath her touch, and a soft pulse echoed through the command deck.

Moments later, she announced:

"Engaging FTL Drive. Activating the Hyperdrive module."

A subtle tremor ran through the ship as deep within its core, the dual reactors surged to life—pumping an immense torrent of energy through every conduit and system. The hum of power intensified, vibrating through the deck beneath their feet... and then, just as suddenly, everything went silent.

A shimmering veil of light wrapped around the Ragnarok, the ship’s energy shields phasing into existence as golden arcs danced across its hull. The very fabric of space around them began to distort—like a ripple across still water, warping and stretching.

Ahead, the void twisted, stars blurring and bending as the Hyperdrive module roared to full power. Ascendency spoke once more, voice cool and precise:

"Coordinates locked. Trajectory aligned. FTL jump initiating in... 3... 2... 1."

The fabric of space split open before the Ragnarok, a shimmering rift carved into the void like a wound in reality itself.

Ascendency—with flawless precision—activated all 18 of Ragnarok’s massive capital-grade propulsion engines, setting them to a quarter thrust. A low rumble echoed through the colossal vessel as it began to gain momentum, its hull shimmering under the strain of the immense energy being channeled through its core systems.

Then, in a flash of motionless speed, the Ragnarok surged forward—entering the rift.

Reality folded around it. The ship vanished from normal space, slipping seamlessly into hyperspace, leaving behind only fading trails of distorted light.

Now barreling across the galactic expanse, the Ragnarok sped toward a distant battlefield—where humanity was locked in a desperate struggle. The tide was turning... and not in their favor. Destruction crept closer with each passing second.

And yet, through that chaos and ruin, something else stirred.

A new Chapter.

A new journey.

And at its heart... was William.

The journey would take approximately half an hour—a blink by most interstellar standards, yet longer than what Ragnarok was truly capable of.

In truth, Ragnarok could have arrived in seconds. Its quantum hyperdrive, paired with its capital-grade FTL propulsion systems, was more than enough to tear across dozens—if not hundreds—of star systems in the time it took to draw a breath.

But this time, it didn’t.

Not because the ship couldn’t, but because William chose not to rush.

He had agreed to help the humans, yes. But there was no need to blaze in recklessly. Patience, observation, and preparation mattered—especially in a universe still unknown to him.

So, he gave the order to hold back Ragnarok’s full power

, allowing the ship to coast at a fraction of its true speed. Even then, it moved like a ghost through the void—crossing star systems as if they were mere stepping stones.

As for the mathematics behind it? William simply smiled and left that to the theoretical physicists and FTL experts of whatever world ended up reading this tale.

For now, the course was set.And the Ragnarok continued its silent advance—toward the battlefield, toward destiny, and toward the next Chapter of a journey that had only just begun.

Meanwhile...

Roughly 7.5 light-years away from where Ragnarok had first emerged, a brutal conflict was already in full swing.

Within a star system designated by the human forces as R-10X—a temporary classification until a proper name could be assigned—a battle for survival had erupted. What had begun as a standard resource expedition quickly devolved into a desperate struggle between two races:

Humans... and an insectoid species of terrifying scale.

The system, while seemingly random, was of immense strategic value. It harbored rare minerals essential for the construction of Tier-6 warships—vessels of enormous power that humanity desperately needed to hold its crumbling frontlines. Beyond that, it also contained key raw materials crucial to their war industry, already strained and on the verge of collapse.

The fleet sent to secure and begin initial operations in the R-10X system was a modest one—nothing more than a forward recon detachment of around 400 ships. Their task had been to scan, secure, and signal for the arrival of the main fleet. But what they found waiting for them... was nothing short of a nightmare.

Without warning, the humans came face-to-face with an enemy species known for its vicious hostility toward all forms of intelligent life—a hive-like insectoid race whose ships moved in synchronized, terrifying precision.

They hadn’t just stumbled into enemy territory—at least, not knowingly. The humans were aware that this region was largely uncharted and didn’t fall under the control of any known race. It wasn’t supposed to be hostile space. But by sheer dumb luck, they ended up crossing paths with the Insectoid race.

There were:

100 Tier-5 Motherships

Over 400 Tier-4 carriers and dread-class vessels

More than 800 Tier-3 and Tier-2 combat units, forming a swarm-like assault formation known as the Solutid Formation—a brutal military tactic known for overwhelming foes with sheer numbers and coordinated strikes.

The humans were outnumbered and outgunned. Their own fleet—while elite—could not compare to the swarm’s scale. Only 30 of their ships were Tier-5, and another 180 were Tier-4, with the remainder being Tier-3 combat and support vessels. They had expected resource harvesting operations.

What they got instead... was war.

The insectoid race—feared across the galaxy and possibly the entire universe—was known as an enemy to all life. No matter the species, civilization, or world, these creatures brought only destruction. And while humans themselves were controversially labeled as an "enemy race" within this galaxy—a topic for another time—it was the insectoids who were the true embodiment of universal threat.

They were not born of nature.

According to fragments of records humanity had recovered—mostly after obliterating a few ancient alien races, through their ancient archives—the insectoid race had not originated in this universe at all.

The insectoid race—feared across the galaxy and possibly the entire universe—was known as an enemy to all life. No matter the species, civilization, or world, these creatures brought only destruction. And while humans themselves were controversially labeled as an "enemy race" within this galaxy—a topic for another time—it was the insectoids who were the true embodiment of universal threat.

They were not born of nature.

According to fragments of records humanity had recovered—mostly after obliterating a few ancient alien archives—the insectoid race had not originated in this universe at all.

They had entered through a rift—a tear in the very fabric of reality. Legends tell of a colossal battle between two unknown, godlike entities. The clash of their powers had not only scarred the galaxy but had also ripped open the membrane separating this universe from what lay beyond—a place of raw chaos, where order did not exist.

And from that rift... the insectoids came.

They weren’t many at first. But these creatures multiplied at an exponential rate

, consuming the essence of any lifeform they encountered. They conquered systems with terrifying speed. When the galaxy’s major powers finally reacted, it was too late. The swarm had already spread too far to be annihilated entirely.

Millions of years have passed since that first emergence. Despite the rise of new civilizations, advanced technologies, and entire empires, the insectoids endured—relentless, unyielding, and still expanding.

And now... humanity faced them again.

The insectoid ships were not just numerous—they were lethal. Even the Tier-3 "Soldier-class" ships had weapons capable of releasing highly corrosive energy beams, so potent they could eat through energy shields and the hulls of Tier-5 battleships alike. These acidic attacks weren’t just physical—they disrupted energy matrices, weakening even the most advanced defenses.

But the real terror of the insectoid fleet was this:

Unless the motherships are destroyed... they never stop coming.

No matter how many you killed, how many formations you shattered, how many fighters you vaporized—if even one mothership remained, it would birth more. Again and again. An endless tide.

It was a nightmare only a few had survived to remember.

And now, in the R-10X system, humanity stood at the edge of that nightmare once again.

But this time... something was different.

Unlike in past encounters—where human forces had managed to dominate the insectoid swarm through sheer firepower, advanced tactics, and fleets of cutting-edge warships built far beyond the galactic standard—this fleet was not a battle fleet.

It was a research fleet.

A formation meant for exploration, not war.

They weren’t fully armed, nor were they equipped with the firepower or defensive systems needed to counter such a vast and hostile force. And yet... they had no choice.

They couldn’t retreat.

There was no time to wait for the main battle fleet to arrive. That could take hours—maybe days. By then, the insectoids would have already devoured the precious resources of the R-10X system, leaving nothing behind but ruin.

So, against impossible odds, this under-equipped human fleet prepared for battle.

Not because they were ready... but because they had to.