TCPUAAV Chapter 140

 

 

Ruan Shiqing still remembered the sorry state 09 had been in when he first bought him.

 

The little robot, who had clearly suffered through who-knew-what, was nothing but a battered torso. On his first boot-up, the tiny machine had stuttered through a desperate sales pitch, trying to sell himself. If Ruan hadn’t been utterly penniless at the time—and if he hadn’t noticed that despite its dilapidated appearance, the robot still retained basic translation functions—he probably wouldn’t have bought such a broken-down thing to begin with.

 

Later, after settling on Planet B4024 and seeing his situation slowly improve, he finally managed to get the little robot a brand-new body.

 

It was then that he started to notice how different 09 was from other robots. Talkative, fond of gardening and singing, with a wide range of quirky interests—he also seemed much smarter. Perhaps it was due to his former life as a military-grade robot, but his level of intelligence was remarkably high. Eventually, he even started reading books—not just uploading them into memory, but truly reading and comprehending them, like a human being.

 

At the time, Ruan Shiqing had kept this observation to himself, not wanting to draw attention and possibly endanger the little robot.

 

What he hadn’t expected was that in a world without him, that little robot would not only become more human-like, but would even rise to become a de facto leader among machines.

 

Ruan Shiqing had read plenty of science fiction in his time. Conflicts between sentient robots and humans were always portrayed as inevitable. Even in his original world—despite the incredible advances in technology—robot ethics had never been truly resolved. To prevent potential warfare from overly advanced AI, it had long been prohibited to manufacture humanoid robots with too much autonomy.

 

The Galactic Empire once had similar regulations. But with its population shrinking and territory expanding, the demand for robots had soared. The profits from robot manufacturing became too large to ignore, and as always, greed turned the laws into little more than empty words.

 

From military use to civilian sectors, from household service to professional support roles, robots became deeply woven into society. In order to better meet consumer needs, their intelligence was pushed ever higher. At present, the Empire had even begun to see humanoid butlers and companion-type robots.

 

Ruan Shiqing didn’t know if the manufacturers had ever truly considered the risks of AI awakening to self-awareness, but in Apocalypse, he saw the shadow of future war.

 

A robot army that had awakened to selfhood would never again be content with blind obedience. What’s more, their emergent self-identity would push them to seek recognition as sentient beings. Yet by the laws of the Empire, robots held no such rights.

 

Legally speaking, they were still just appliances—no different from toasters or washing machines.

 

Such a disparity in recognition was bound to create tension.

 

And tension, more often than not, was the spark that ignited war.

 

Ruan Shiqing felt a growing unease in his heart, but there was nothing he could do. All he could do now was watch and wait.

 

After the battle at Balham Star, Apocalypse and his ark vanished without a trace.

 

But sporadic intelligence reports from dispatched operatives brought back fragments of information.

 

It was said that Apocalypse had originally been a fifth-generation PL-3 tech robot manufactured by Naxi Corporation. After production, he was deployed to the Kaiserria Sector, assigned to a military battleship to provide technical support.

 

Later, that battleship was dispatched to the remote planet of Blaynell to eliminate a formidable group of space pirates. Due to the captain’s overconfidence, the ship fell into a well-laid pirate ambush. The result: total annihilation. Not a single human survived, and the defense of Blaynell teetered on the brink of collapse.

 

What no one expected was that, in the critical moment, an unremarkable robot soldier took command of the entire ship. He seized control of the vessel and directed over two hundred robotic soldiers in a counterattack, ultimately holding the line in what was essentially a suicide mission.

 

The severely damaged battleship was later recovered by military forces. The robot who had completed the mission alone was, reportedly, forcibly retired and slated for decommissioning—on the grounds that he had developed self-awareness.

 

No one could say with certainty that the robot destroyed was Apocalypse—but given the matching model, and the fact that both showed signs of independent consciousness, it was unlikely to be mere coincidence.

 

After hearing this report, Rong Heng’s expression darkened. He said nothing further. But once his subordinates had left, he immediately summoned Nota and Ruan Yuebai for an emergency meeting—and made the decision to relocate all robots aboard the Black Phantom.

 

In an age of advanced technology, robot usage was ubiquitous—impossible to avoid.

 

But Rong Heng, not one to take chances, had all robots removed from the main flagship as a precaution.

 

When Ruan Shiqing saw this chain of actions, he knew Rong Heng had come to the same conclusion he had.

 

And two years later, their fears came true.

 

—Apocalypse led his robot army to openly occupy a highly mechanized planet. There, he enacted and publicized a new legal system that recognized robots as equal beings with full human rights. He issued a declaration of war against the Empire.

 

He wasn’t just aiming to liberate all robots—he wanted to overthrow the Empire and build an entirely new nation, one that belonged solely to machines.

 

The fires of war ignited first in the Kaiserria Sector, then swept into the Central Core.

 

At the same time, the Melchers line of defense in the southwestern sector suddenly collapsed. Swarms of Zerg poured into Imperial territory from the southwest front, rampaging across multiple planets.

 

And the Imperial government had no effective strategy to respond to the avalanche of crises.

 

The “Mad King” had not governed for many years. Power had long fallen into the hands of Empress Thea and Crown Prince Soma. To protect Sikkim, they recalled all military forces to guard the Central Core, abandoning the other three frontier sectors—and those sectors, left undermanned, fell in rapid succession.

 

The frontlines had utterly collapsed. All eight administrative sectors beyond the Central District, along with their respective planets, now lay exposed beneath the claws of the Zerg.

 

Ruan Shiqing watched as the world’s trajectory began to increasingly echo the plot of the “book” he had once read. The uncanny convergence made his heart pound with unease.

 

And yet, despite the growing chaos, Rong Heng remained calm. Over the past two years, he had quietly purged those subordinates whose loyalty was in doubt and assembled a fleet loyal solely to him. Aside from the Black Phantom, he now had two additional capital ships, each captained by Nota and Ruan Yuebai.

 

Coincidentally—or perhaps not—their base of operations was located on Planet B3024.

 

Unlike the bustling B3024 of the later timeline, this world’s B3024 was a wasteland, devoid of vitality. After suffering brutal attacks from the Zerg, it had been reduced to a dead, abandoned star.

 

Rong Heng had a landing pad and storage depots built amid the ruins, intended for docking warships and storing weaponry and supplies.

 

Most of the time, the fleet didn’t linger long at B3024, only stopping to resupply before heading back out to hunt Zerg.

 

But unlike in the original timeline, Rong Heng now lacked the steady supply of weapons and materials from B3024’s military base, as well as the loyal troops of the Yanji Sector. Nor had he uncovered the Zerg’s conspiracy early on to prepare in advance. Even with the will to help, he was stretched painfully thin.

 

Their own supplies were barely sufficient—how could they afford to support other planets at all costs?

 

What’s more, the planets that had been abandoned by the central government were now acting independently, unwilling to heed his advice to unite and form new lines of defense.

 

Even so, Rong Heng never gave up on the rescue efforts.

 

Ruan Shiqing watched as he led mission after mission, his injuries piling up, and his aura growing sharper and more dangerous with each passing day—like a bloodstained blade, yearning to strike.

 

Both Nota and Ruan Yuebai had tried to dissuade him. At the current pace of high-cost, low-return rescue operations, the resources they had painstakingly stockpiled over the years would soon be exhausted.

 

But Rong Heng was unconcerned. He merely said, “Once we’re out—then we’ll take more.”

 

At the time, he was busy studying Empress Thea’s travel routes.

 

Neither Nota nor Ruan Yuebai could understand his sudden burst of so-called justice. Still, most of the supplies were accumulated by Rong Heng himself, so they didn’t object too strongly.

 

It was Ruan Shiqing who vaguely understood his intentions—though the title of Crown Prince had already been claimed by his half-brother Soma, Rong Heng still viewed the protection of the Empire’s citizens as his duty.

 

He wanted to avenge his mother.

 

And he wanted to protect the Empire’s peace.

 

But neither goal was easy to achieve, not when he was isolated and alone.

 

Still, with nothing but courage and conviction, he charged forward without hesitation.

 

Rong Heng spent a full month tracking the Empress Thea’s movements—ever since Apocalypse’s uprising and the Zerg rampage began, she had been secretly contacting various factions under the pretext of safeguarding Sikkim. Her personal royal warship had already departed Sikkim multiple times.

 

She didn’t realize her every move had already fallen under Rong Heng’s watchful gaze.

 

Rong Heng meticulously planned an ambush, aiming to eliminate the woman who had once conspired against his mother and usurped the Empress’s throne.

 

And it was at this exact moment that Ruan Shiqing realized the “book” he had once read began.

 

—The memories Time had forced upon him about the previous world had centered on Soma, the son born to Empress Thea. Rong Heng and the Black Phantom had been notorious antagonists—infamous and feared. Their first appearance had been the destruction of Empress Thea’s royal ship.

 

The “book” had glossed over that event in just a few brief lines, and at the time, Ruan Shiqing had felt little impact.

 

But now, traveling beside Rong Heng and witnessing the battle firsthand, he experienced its brutality in stark, vivid detail.

 

Though the operation had been carefully planned, the royal fleet was formidable. After a grueling battle, the Black Phantom emerged victorious—but it was a pyrrhic victory.

 

Severely damaged, the Black Phantom had no choice but to return to B3024 for repairs. But before it could even land, they discovered that their base had already been seized.

 

—A massive black dragon now roamed the landing pad, its feet crushing the wreckage of warships beneath them.

 

Perched between the dragon’s horns was a tiny figure.

 

Ruan Shiqing couldn’t help but draw closer, but as he did, he realized—both the dragon and the small figure atop it were utterly different from his memories.

 

The black dragon had only one leathery wing. The other had been replaced with metal. Thick chains coiled around its neck and limbs, clanking noisily as it moved. The sound seemed to irritate it, and its lone wing twitched restlessly while faint sparks hissed from its nostrils.

 

Its golden gem-like eyes had turned completely blood-red.

 

And atop its head sat a scrawny figure—half of the child’s face still bore soft, youthful features, while the other half was covered in an insect-like exoskeleton. Long antennae extended from the child’s forehead, swaying gently, and the dark red eyes were filled with vigilance and savagery.

 

With no sign of Heli or Ruan Jiao, Ruan Shiqing had once wondered what had become of the two younglings. In a world where he didn’t exist, he’d feared the worst: perhaps Heli still lay unhatched in dragon egg form, and Ruan Jiao was still slumbering within his cocoon…

 

Maybe later they’d been discovered by Rong Heng and his team, hatched and joined them as comrades.

 

But he had never imagined that in this world, the first reunion of all five young ones would take place under such hostile and volatile circumstances.

 

And that the most innocent of the cubs… would become the fiercest hunter of all.

 

 

 

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Damn our babies suffered so much through so many timelines without Ruan Ruan :’(((

 

Thanks for reading!

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