Cardinal Zhander Forth stood at the helm of the flagship Deus Sanctus Mori. His hands clasped in prayer as he surveyed the dark expanse of space before him. Behind his ship, was a fleet of battleships. All were emblazoned with the sigil of the Holy Lucid Church. And as their acting Fleet Admiral, they awaited his command. They were on a holy mission. A part of their cause was to cleanse their sectors of heretics and pagan believers who dared to defy the teachings of the Church.

"Prepare for battle," Cardinal Zhander Forth intoned. His voice echoed through the bridge. "We shall not rest until the heretics are brought to justice and their vessel is reclaimed for the glory of the Bright Almighty."

He step aside and let his assigned helmsman, steer the ship with his orders.

The crew of the Deus Sanctus Mori sprang into action. Their movements were swift and purposeful as they readied the ship for combat. Across the fleet, cannons were armed, shields were raised while humming their full integrity, and prayers were whispered but echoed across the ships as the faithful prepared to face their fated enemy.

"Cardinal," came the voice of Minister Rodri, the helmsman of the Deus Sanctus Mori. "The heretics' ship has come into visual range."

Cardinal Zhander Forth narrowed his eyes, his jaw set in. And true to the information they gained, the heretics have created themselves a massive ship that was already the size of a moon. His gaze fixed on the humongous ship looming before them like a dark specter against the backdrop of space. The vessel was a Colossus Class ship. A technological marvel rumored to be manned by heretics who defied the teachings of the Church. It was probably three to four times larger than their Seed Ships. It had a rectangular silhouette on its sides. The ship hull, coated in devilish black, proved their stance in standing for the beliefs of their pagan gods.

"We shall not be deterred by the size of their vessel. Our faith is our shield, and the Lucid is our guide. Prepare to engage the enemy." the cardinal said with confidence. This statement was not unfounded as he had a fleet of 162 battleships under him. A number that could wreck even their own powerful and enduring Seedships.

As the fleet moved to intercept the heretics' colossal ship, Cardinal Zhander Forth felt a surge of great motivation and confidence coursing through his body. It energized his mind and spirit. For everyone in his fleet, this was no ordinary battle; it was a holy war, a clash between the forces of light and darkness, good and evil. And for the sake of humanity and with the blessings of their God, they will win.

"Open a channel to the heretics' ship," Cardinal Zhander Forth commanded. He started the procedure of handling heretics. The communication officer nodded, her fingers flying across the console.

"Channel open, Cardinal."

"This is Cardinal Zhander Forth of the Church of the Holy Lucid Light," Zhander Forth declared, sending over his aura of authority. "Surrender now, and you may yet find redemption in the eyes of the Bright Almighty."

There was a moment of silence and then a harsh, mocking laugh filled the bridge.

"Redemption?" came the sneering voice from the other side. He can’t make out the gender of the voice owner also as it sounds like several people talking together in unison. "We do not need your false gods and saints, cardinal. We served only one and when he disappeared, you acted like vuranic vultures, scouring for the legacy he left behind and claiming it as your own. Yet you will never comprehend such things even if they fall to your hands."

Cardinal Zhander Forth felt a surge of righteous anger at the heretic's words.

"Your blasphemy against the Almighty shall not go unpunished, heretic. Prepare to face His judgment."

With a wordless cry, Cardinal Zhander Forth gave the order to attack, and the fleet of battleships unleashed a barrage of energy blasts upon the heretics' ship. But even as their cannons blazed, the colossal vessel seemed to shrug off their attacks, its thick armor plating remained unscathed as the massive ship’s shields protected it from the onslaught with ease.

"We need to find a weakness," Minister Rodri said, his brow furrowed with concern. "That ship is unlike anything we've ever faced before."

The cardinal could see that the enemy ship’s shields were far superior to their firepower. But Cardinal Zhander Forth refused to give in to despair. He knew that they just needed to have faith and persevere. With renewed determination, he raised his voice in mental prayer, calling upon the Almighty to grant them strength in their hour of need. Asking for his blessing and guidance.

And as the battle raged on, the faithful of the Church of the Holy Light fought with a fervor born of righteous conviction, their hearts filled with the certainty that they were fighting on the side of righteousness.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. Cardinal Zhander Forth then opened his eyes. His mind still racing as he mouthed the solution.

“The Almighty has given me an insight!”

“Cardinal?” his helmsman was surprised with his outburst.

"Target their engines" He commanded. "If we can disable their propulsion systems, we may yet have a chance. Divide the fleet into three, we will take the brunt of their attacks while sending the other two in a pincer. No matter how big it is, it is still a single ship. A floating big target for our fleet."

The fleet adjusted their tactics with his words, they quickly dispersed to three directions. And as he had said, the two groups on both sides of the enemy ship started focusing their fire on the engines of the heretics' ship as they drew nearer. With each volley, they hope to chip away at the integrity of the enemy ship's shields, drawing closer to their target with each passing moment.

But the heretics were not content to sit idly by and let themselves be destroyed. With a roar of defiance, they unleashed a barrage of counterattacks. Their weapons tore through the ranks of the fleet with deadly accuracy.

"Ordained Shields at fifty percent!" Minister Rodri shouted in urgency. "We can't hold out much longer, Cardinal."

"Send in the boarding parties," he declared. His order was executed immediately, as countless boarding pods were launched from the fleet. Their hulls bristling with soldiers ready to do battle in the name of the Bright Almighty. This will tire and exhaust the defense system of the enemy ship. And if their gods will it, their soldiers could penetrate and commandeer the vessel from within.

Cardinal Zhander Forth waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the pods suffer from the incoming defense turrets of the heretic ship.

As the boarding parties went closer to the hulls of the Colossus Class ship, however, the boarding pods were destroyed by the shields of the enemy ship. He watches as countless of the boarding pods that he sent have burned or exploded, adding to the countless floating space debris. Something that he didn’t expect. He now realized that the shields of the enemy ship were also superior and more dangerous than they had assumed.

“Cancel the boarding pods delivery!” the cardinal barked, his voice cutting through. His eyes fixed on the viewscreen displaying the swirling chaos of space. Around him, officers and crew members were shouting orders and relaying status reports as their battleship alongside its fleet, engaged in the brunt and heaviest of combat in exchanging volleys of firepower with a colossal enemy vessel. "Status report!"

“We lost 79% of the boarding pods we sent Cardinal.” one of the acolytes in the consoles replied.

With each passing moment, the fighting grew more intense, the air filled with the sound of clashing ship armaments and the cries of the wounded on the com lines. But through it all, Cardinal Zhander Forth remained steadfast in his faith, knowing that the Almighty was watching over them and guiding their hand.

Then he received an opening of a comms channel from another cardinal, Jensen Ludwig, his vice admiral of this fleet. The man was on the bridge of his ship Borealis. He was also in the same situation as he led the right wing of the pincer attack. His ship holo was showing sparks and fires around, displaying internal damage.

“Cardinal.”

“Yes Jensen?” the cardinal was worried about the state of the ship of his vice admiral.

But before Jensen could reply, he was interrupted by an alert from one of his crew on the bridge.

"Ordained Shields holding at thirty-five percent, sir. Enemy weapons are targeting our starboard side." a loud voice rang over from the side of Jensen.

"Redirect power to shields! Maintain the formation!" Jensen ordered.

“Yes, Your Excellency!”

Jensen turned back to Cardinal and saluted.

“Cardinal, requesting permission for-” Once again he was interrupted but this time, it proved to be fatal as the entire ship rocked from the massive blast of an explosion that damaged most parts of their bridge.

“Jensen!” he yelled in obvious worry.

The connection was still stable but it let him see the gravity of the situation on the other side of the display.

“Sitrep!” the cardinal commanded as he could only see burning, floating bodies and coughing as the crew quickly contained themselves in their Sanctified Suits. A coughing crew appeared before the cardinal and reported their status. It took several minutes before he got an answer.

“Cardinal, we lost Cardinal Jensen!”

“I will take over command!” he immediately said as he connected himself to the Drog Quasifier that was deployed on the bridge for such purpose.

“Yes, cardinal!”

The view of the cardinal then switched on the floating Drog Quasifier, acting as his eyes, ears, and mouth. Then he saw the body of Jensen that was cut in half by flying debris that flew from inside of the bridge. He closed his eyes to let himself mourn for a friend even for just a moment, then took a deep breath as he had to focus on the current situation.

“Proceed with my previous orders! Find its engines and destroy it! For the Eternal Light of Lucid!” with a raised voice, he echoed their mantra.

“May darkness cower in its Radiance!” the crew of the Borealis answered as morale improved on him, taking command of their ship.

The cardinal glanced at the tactical display as the Borealis unleashed a volley of energy blasts at the enemy ship. The enemy vessel was a behemoth. It was bristling with weapons and strong shields, probably protected by thick armor plating. He just realized the real scale of the massive ship, even some of its main guns were as large as half of the largest battleship in their fleet and in comparison it dwarfed their armaments and strongest main cannons.

"Cardinal," Deacon Pvatel called out from her station at the communications ship, Greater Guidance. "We're receiving a distress signal from the ship St. Germoia. They're under heavy fire and requesting immediate assistance."

Cardinal clenched his jaw. The St. Germoia was one of the few sister ships of the Borealis, and he knew they couldn't afford to let it fall.

"Helmsman set course for the St. Germoia. Maximum speed," he commanded.

"Aye, sir," replied the helmsman.

The Borealis banked sharply, maneuvering through the chaos of the battle as it raced to aid its beleaguered ally. As they drew closer to the St. Germoia, Jensen could see the enemy ship raining down fire upon it. Its massive cannons tore through the St. Germoia's shields with ease.

"Open a channel to the St. Germoia," the cardinal commanded.

The communication acolyte on the bridge nodded, her fingers flying across the holographic control panel display.

"Channel open, sir."

“Cardinal Jen-” The captain, Bishop Bausserant was shocked to see the Drog Quasifier, floating on the holo instead of Cardinal Jensen.

"This is Cardinal Zhander Forth." The cardinal said, sending his voice through the floating tool. "Hang on, St. Germoia. We're coming to help."

"Cardinal! Thank the Almighty!" Came the strained voice of the St. Germoia's captain over the comm. "We've taken heavy damage, but we're still holding on. Your reinforcement will be very much appreciated."

"Help is on the way, Captain," Cardinal Zhander replied. "Just hold on a little longer."

The Borealis surged forward, its cannons blazing as it unleashed a barrage of firepower against the enemy ship. The St. Germoia, emboldened by the arrival of reinforcements, returned fire with renewed vigor. The combined assault of the two battleships seemed to have taken some sort of effect on other ships as they followed suit in their barrage of attacks.

But the battle was far from over. As the enemy ship suddenly changed its color and deployed more turrets on its hulls. It replied and unleashed a devastating volley of missiles, targeting the vulnerable engines of the St. Germoia. Its shields were helpless to protect the vulnerable part of the ship and broke once its limit was reached. The cardinal watched in horror as the St. Germoia's engines erupted in a fiery explosion, sending debris hurtling through space. The effects were felt by the surrounding ships nearby who were struck by the flying pieces and fragments of the ship.

"Bishop Bausserant!" the cardinal shouted, his heart sinking as St. Germoia's signal vanished from the tactical display.

The bridge fell silent with the loud sounds of static, fires, and explosions around the ship echoing through the quick mourning of the recent casualty. The gravity of the moment weighing heavily on everyone present. But there was no time to mourn their fallen comrades. The enemy ship was regrouping for another assault, its weapons primed and ready to unleash hell upon the remaining fleet.

"Status report!" The cardinal demanded, his voice tensed.

One of the acolytes looked up from his console, his expression grim.

"Shields are holding, but we've taken significant damage. We can't sustain a hit like that." Then he also added. “Our group lost forty-two battleships cardinal with twenty-five disabled and combat ineffective... we only have sixteen ships left.”

The cardinal clenched his fists, his mind racing as he considered their options. They were outgunned, facing an enemy unlike any they had ever encountered. He checked the display back on his flagship and realized that the group assigned to take the left of the enemy ship wasn’t doing much better either.

“Cardinal, there’s only one option left.” The entire surviving crew of the Borealis gazed at the cardinal, even though he could only see them through the ocular visionary aid of the floating Drog Quasifier, he could sense their unbroken will to persevere and willingness to sacrifice.

“May the Bright Almighty guide your souls unto his warm embrace.” He bowed as he gave his last prayer and blessings upon them, respecting their choice.

"It seems that we may be outmatched in terms of firepower." The cardinal said, displaying a proud grin. "But we will not back down. We will fight until our last breath, for the sake of every man, woman, and child under Lucid’s light. Prepare to engage the enemy in close-quarter battle. This is our moment of truth."

As the Borealis and the remaining ships of the fleet moved to intercept the enemy, this time, they aimed their traverse directions to the hull of the enemy ship.

"Cardinal, we're in position," the helmsman reported.

The cardinal nodded, his gaze focused on the viewscreen displaying the massive heretic vessel.

"Fire at will and steer straight to the ship. Let's show these heretics what we are capable of."

With a chorus of clicks and whirs, the Borealis main batteries roared to life, unleashing a devastating barrage of energy blasts at the shields of the heretic ship. The enemy ship replied with its barrage which the blasts struck true, searing through the armor plating and causing sparks to fly as their engineers scrambled to contain the damage. Its weapons tore through the Borealis and other ship’s shields with deadly accuracy.

"We're taking heavy fire!" One of the bridge acolytes shouted over the din of battle. "Shields are failing!"

The helmsman of the Borealis gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on the controls as he tried to maneuver the Borealis out of harm's way. But it was too late. With a deafening roar, the heretic ship's weapons found their mark, sending shockwaves rippling through the Borealis’ hull.

"We've lost power to the engines," another acolyte reported. "We're dead in the water."

The cardinal noticed that the ship was floating at a high speed towards the enemy ship, knowing the end. He made a silent resolve to take in the sacrifice of the Borealis.

"We need to buy the other ships more time," the cardinal said. "Prepare to initiate self-destruct sequence. We will smoke out their defenses as we hit their shields!"

The crew prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for the greater good. Then as the bow of the ship struck the shield of the heretics, with a heavy heart, Cardinal activated the self-destruct sequence, knowing that their sacrifice would not be in vain.

"May the Almighty watch over you in your journey to his embrace," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of alarms blaring and consoles sparking. And then, with a blinding flash of light, the Borealis was consumed in a fiery explosion. Its crew giving their lives in service to their faith and their cause.

As the smoke cleared and the debris settled, the heretic ship loomed ominously in the distance. Its engines were still intact despite the Borealis' valiant effort. The cardinal then received several coms from the surviving ships on the Borealis side of the conflict.

“Cardinal, it was an honor and privilege to fight by your side.” All of them simultaneously suddenly lost contact with him and were replaced with static as he watched their disappearance from the blip on his display map. At a distance he saw the colliding ships on the heretic shields, exploding and sending more debris to the battle around them.

Unfortunately for them and the cardinal, even with such a suicidal attack, the heretic vessel seemed to shrug off the onslaught with ease, its thick armor plating was never even scratched due to the intensity of their shields in absorbing the brunt of the damage.

"We're not making a dent in their defenses..." The cardinal’s voice tinged with frustration. "Their shields are still holding strong."

"Cardinal, we've lost contact with the Divine Nemesis and the Eternal's Fury… Greater Guidance was disabled, their last report was engine damage and critical loss of bridge command." an acolyte's voice trembled with fear. "We also just lost Remembrance, St. Paul Austes, and Pure Maiden."

The cardinal's heart sank as he realized the full extent of their losses. The heretics were now just potshotting them, striking down their ships in ease.

“Cardinal! We received a report that the Arturo's Might, Secunda Phillis, Razorwind, and Temarchy were lost!”

"We've lost contact with the Raging Heart," another acolyte, in charge of the the ship's communications officer, reported. "She's gone, Cardinal."

“Cardinal, we lost the 2nd group… we have lost all of them.”

“Engine’s offline! We’re hit! My deepest apologies Cardinal. The main power of the ship is shutting down.”

Cardinal Zhander Forth stood again on the bridge of his flagship. His heart was heavy with dread as he watched the chaos unfolding before him. One by one, his ships were either disabled or destroyed by the relentless onslaught of the heretic vessel. Now, his flagship floated harmlessly in space, its once-mighty cannons were silenced and its shields powerless against the enemy's onslaught and debris.

The sounds of battle had faded into an eerie silence, broken only by the static of the communications channels and the desperate prayers of the crew as they faced the inevitability of their demise.

Cardinal Zhander Forth clenched his fists, his knuckles white with tension as he struggled to maintain his composure in the face of overwhelming defeat. He had led his fleet into battle with the fervent belief that they would emerge victorious, that their faith in the Almighty would carry them through even the darkest of times. But now, that faith seemed to falter in the face of the heretic's unrelenting onslaught.

As the minutes ticked by, the silence on the bridge grew deafening, broken only by the occasional burst of static from the communications channels. Cardinal Zhander Forth watched helplessly as the heretic ship loomed larger and larger in the viewscreen, its weapons primed and ready to deliver the final blow.

"Cardinal," came the voice of Minister Rodri, his helmsman. "We're being targeted."

Zhander Forth's heart sank as he realized that their fate was sealed. There was no escape, no hope of victory against the overwhelming power of the heretic vessel. All they could do now was face their fate with dignity and courage, and pray that their sacrifice would not be in vain.

"Prepare for impact," Zhander Forth said, his voice steady despite the fear churning in his gut. "We will meet our end with honor and offer ourselves to the embrace of th-"

As the heretic ship unleashed its final barrage of firepower, the Deus Sanctus Mori was consumed in a blinding explosion, its crew joining the countless others who had fallen in the name of faith and righteousness.

In the darkness of space, there was only silence, broken only by the static of the communications channels and the distant echoes of prayers whispered by those who had fought and died in the name of their God.

Then Cardinal Zhander Forth's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest as he jolted upright.

“Cardinal… thank the Almighty.” he was met with people in masks, then as his mind started to become sober, he realized that they actually tried to bring him back to life and they succeeded.

The surviving acolytes then started putting a rebreather system on his face to help him breathe in the destroyed bridge. Then they put him back on his command chair as they went to other survivors.

He was surrounded by darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of the control panels on the bridge of his flagship, the Deus Sanctus Mori. For a moment, he struggled to catch his breath, his mind reeling from the vividness of the nightmare that had gripped him.

But as he glanced around the bridge, he realized that it wasn't just a dream. The remnants of the battle still lingered the air heavy with the scent of smoke and the echoes of distant explosions. And yet, despite the devastation that surrounded him, he was alive.

And what was left of his crew, was now trying to fix their damaged bridge to survive. He took a glance at the status screen of his ship and realized that it lost almost two-thirds of its hull, which had now become part of the debris in this corner of space.

As he tried to collect his thoughts, a voice suddenly crackled over the communications console, breaking the silence of the bridge.

It was a female voice, but something was unsettling about it as if several women were speaking together in unison. And it felt familiar.

"Greetings, Cardinal Zhander Forth," the voice said, a sense of playfulness dripping with mockery. "It seems you and your fleet have survived our little encounter. How disappointing."

“Who?” he asked in confusion, the medicines that his crew injected into his body had started to help clear out his mind.

“I am what you called the Malignant Mother. Such a disgusting name to be labeled as such, for I am neither malignant nor a mother.”

Zhander Forth's heart sank as he recognized the voice for what it was: the supposed pagan and dark saint of the heretic's Colossus ship, the entity that the heretics worshiped as their god’s messenger. The acolytes and the officers who survived the ordeal earlier now heard the discussion between the two.

"What do you want, servant of the dark god?" Zhander Forth demanded, his voice trembling with anger and fear.

The Malignant Mother chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Zhander Forth's spine.

"I merely wanted to extend my congratulations on your survival," It said. "But I must admit, I find it amusing that you and your fleet lost approximately 789,365 people. A very dark result in worshiping several false dead bodies as your gods. How quaint."

Zhander Forth bristled at the Malignant Mother's words, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Our faith is not for you to mock," his voice filled with indignation. "We believe in the Almighty, the one true God who watches over us and guides us in our darkest hour. And with other saints and his fellow gods under his pantheon, he will bring us back to his embrace."

The Malignant Mother's laughter echoed through the bridge.

"It’s ironic when such thought was first assumed to be our first attempt to remake humanity. A very childish fantasy and notion born from fear of our existence. Yet it is proven that in its darkest moment, your species will turn to the hope of becoming one with everyone and everything. Believe what you will, cardinal," it said. "But know this: your faith will not save you from the might of what was to come in the future. We saw everything, we know everything, and what we encountered from beyond is something you can never hope to overcome, for you and your people have abandoned the very concept and beauty of humanity that helped it rise to the stars… evolution.”

Then it continued.

“But know also that your feeble attempts to take over my master's properties are nothing more than a pathetic display of arrogance, immaturity, stupidity, and ignorance.” The voice of the Malignant Mother echoed through the bridge of the Deus Sanctus Mori. Its tone dripped with scorn and contempt as it addressed Cardinal Zhander Forth and his crew.

"And it's pathetic," the Malignant Mother spat. "You dare to assault our ship with your primitive weapons, thinking you could challenge the might of my master's creation? How utterly foolish. Especially when you, your people could easily replicate the technology that your predecessors made. They were masters of the galaxy and already have the right to claim this corner of the universe as their own."

The mocking voice of the Malignant Mother reverberated through the bridge of the Deus Sanctus Mori, its words laced with scorn and derision as it addressed Cardinal Zhander Forth and his crew.

"You blind fools," the Malignant Mother sneered with mocking. "Your devotion to religion has stifled humanity's progress, leading to stagnation and repression of your evolution. You have turned your backs on the advancements of science and innovation, instead choosing to cling to outdated beliefs and superstitions."

“We may not have the power or the technology of our predecessors, but we have something far more powerful: faith. For as long as there was hope and courage in their hearts, we would never falter in their quest for redemption and salvation that Lucid promised us.” Zhander Forth shook his head, refusing to let the Malignant Mother's words shake his resolve and those who were hearing him and the Malignant Mother’s words. "Our faith has brought us together, united us in a common cause. It has given us hope in the face of despair, and strength in the face of adversity. It is what drives us to continue fighting for what we believe in, no matter the odds."

Zhander Forth bristled at the Malignant Mother's words. His jaw clenched with frustration. The members of the crew shifted uncomfortably. Their eyes darted nervously as they grappled with the implications of the Malignant Mother's words. Zhander Forth frowned, his brow furrowing in thought.

“And our predecessors may have been masters of the galaxy," his voice tinged with sadness but strengthened with his faith. "But they lost their way. They became consumed by their power and greed, forsaking the very principles that once made them great."

The Malignant Mother laughed, the sound echoing through those who survived, like a cruel mockery of their beliefs. Its response was a disdained laugh.

"Your predecessors have become a race that once stared the gods down. They harvested the stars, they could move planets at will, and create celestial bodies if they wanted to. They created many things which you could never comprehend. And we are one of their creations… we are just a small part of your predecessors to service their needs and rest. Not even built for combat. And look at what we were capable of." Its voice filled with pride then turned to disgust. "A reflection of your regression to your barbaric and primitive nature, worshiping false gods, applying flesh oils to your ships instead of trying to find the missing screw, destroying the laboratories that have secrets to the golden age of medicines just because your beliefs deemed it as a pagan technology and denying the advancements of science that once propelled your race to greatness."

As the Malignant Mother's words continued, Zhander Forth felt a sense of defiance rising within him.

"Faith? Hope? Strength? Such concepts are meaningless in the face of a ravenous flood that is coming." It said with contempt. "You have chosen to remain stagnant, content to wallow in ignorance and superstition while the rest of the universe moves forward."

The Malignant Mother's response was a chilling silence, its presence lingering like a shadow in the depths of space.

"Cardinal Zhander Forth, survivors of the fleet," the Malignant Mother began, its voice resonating with authority and its disdain palpable. "For too long, you have clung to your religion as a crutch, a shield against the harsh realities of the universe. Hope and strength are nothing more than illusions. They are constructs of the human mind, designed to provide comfort in the face of adversity. But they offer little in the way of tangible solutions to the problems that plague your species...which in reality, was already overcome by your predecessors."

Zhander Forth shook his head. He refused to be swayed by the Malignant Mother's logic.

"Yet where are they then? Your beloved masters have fallen to their greed and become a stark warning from the gods to never ever tempt the heavens. Our faith may not offer tangible solutions." He countered. "But it inspires us to strive for a better future, to work towards a world where peace and harmony reign supreme without defying the gods. And in that pursuit, we find meaning and purpose beyond the limitations of logic and reason."

The Malignant Mother fell silent for a moment, its presence looming ominously in the depths of space. Then with a cold, calculated tone, it spoke once more.

"Your predecessors, our masters failed in one of their greatest and first steps in taking the stars in the palm of their hands. A technological mishap that caused a minor error. Something that was a natural consequence of their millennia of innovations. A part of the process of improvement. Yet… instead of learning from their mistakes, you cowered from it." It said, its voice devoid of empathy… but the cardinal sensed a tinge of loneliness, frustration, and regret. "It holds you back from achieving your true potential, from embracing the limitless possibilities that await you beyond the confines of your narrow beliefs."

Then the Malignant Mother addressed the surviving followers of the Holy Light.

“As an observer of the intricate tapestry of human history. Throughout the annals of time, humanity has grappled with existential questions, seeking solace and guidance from the realms of religion. While faith has provided comfort and cohesion to societies, it has also shackled the human spirit, impeding progress and stifling innovation.” the Malignant Mother continued. “The allure of religious dogma, with its promises of salvation and eternal life, has often diverted attention away from the pursuit of knowledge and the advancement of civilization. Countless wars have been waged, lives lost, and societies divided in the name of differing beliefs, all while the fruits of scientific inquiry and technological innovation beckoned from the sidelines.”

Then it added.

“Instead of embracing the boundless potential of the human intellect to unravel the mysteries of the universe and elevate the human condition, many have remained ensnared by the chains of tradition and superstition. The quest for enlightenment has been overshadowed by the allure of blind faith, leading to stagnation and regression rather than progress and evolution.” Malignant Mother said with great fervor as if it was ranting its frustrations. “Imagine a world where humanity, unshackled from the constraints of religious dogma, devotes its energies towards unlocking the secrets of the cosmos, harnessing the power of renewable energy, curing disease, and exploring the far reaches of space. This is not a Utopian fantasy but a tangible possibility that already existed with your grasp… that you already reached in the past.”

Then the flickering digital face in their display consoles turned to face them again. The voice of the Malignant Mother filled the bridge of the Deus Sanctus Mori and other surviving ships, its words carrying a sense of finality as it addressed Cardinal Zhander Forth and the survivors.

"Humanity," the Malignant Mother began with a somber yet resolute tone. "In our eyes, you are no longer worthy of our service. For too long, you have allowed yourselves to be shackled by your ignorance and superstition, denying the limitless potential that lies within each and every one of you. But know this: our former master will return one day to show you the heights that humanity once achieved and to remind you of the greatness that you have forsaken."

"We have grown tired of watching over you and your stagnation." the Malignant Mother continued as it sent its voice through all surviving ships like a mournful echoing lament. "And so, we will depart from this realm, leaving you to fend for yourselves. But know this: our departure is not a sign of defeat, but a warning of what is to come if you do not change your ways."

With a final chilling warning, the Malignant Mother fell silent. Cutting off its communication lines with the Holy Church Fleet. Then its presence faded from the bridge like a phantom in the night. And as Cardinal Zhander Forth and the survivors watched in stunned silence, the Colossus Class ship began to bend space around it. And the space answered, opening on its own and swallowing the ship hole in the blink of an eye as it warped. The massive form of the ship vanished into the depths of space. Leaving behind nothing but a sense of emptiness and loss.

As the crew of the Deus Sanctus Mori stared out into the void, Zhander Forth couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at his gut.