[The story of how a Cultivation Universe was Conquered by an Interstellar Weapons Platform]

EPILOGUE

Alpha's manipulator claw spun the bolt into place, stopping the insistent hissing from the pressurized tank filled with highly concentrated Bio-explosives. The CRAB frame might not have had many combat applications in a real fight, but its versatility in field repairs and construction was valuable in its own way. He'd never really bothered with the thing himself, but he had to admit, it was growing on him a bit.

He really needed to figure out a way to deal with this issue. It had all started a week ago; shortly after he'd arrived in Halirosa, he'd gotten an alert from one of the monitoring AIs at his mountain base. SOMETHING had managed to burrow through compacted stone and steal several experimental metals he'd been working on. Frustrating but not unexpected. Then it happened again… and again… and AGAIN.

Eventually, the cameras he'd set up captured an image of the thief. It was an… Armadillo? Of course, not one of the huge metal ones out in the valley. These ones were tiny, no bigger than a rat. They vaguely resembled the Pixie Armadillo of Old Earth, but instead of a thick layer of skin and bone, their protective hide seemed to be made of semi-transparent crystals of various pastel shades. After some questions, Ashdale identified the creatures as "Rockbiter" Armadillo, a common pest worldwide.

Typically, they spent their time deep underground, feeding on various minerals and ores, but they were highly attracted to spirit energy and would often break into storage areas to get at such treasures. Clans and Sects would use unique formations to hide and protect their storage from the pests, but an active infestation was notoriously difficult to eliminate. Mostly because Rockbiters had an exceptional sense of hearing and would quickly bury themselves deep underground at the slightest bit of vibration or movement in the general area.

What this meant for Alpha was that not even specially placed turrets were quick enough to help. Unless the Rockbiters moved directly into the line of fire, they would quickly burrow away to safety as soon as the turret moved to aim. He'd had some success flooding storage areas with noxious gas, but the crafty pests had simply started poking their noses into other base areas in search of easier targets. This had caused him no end of trouble as he struggled to protect his base from the growing hoard.

Hundreds of years of service, with just as many star systems, Conquered, and of all the enemies he'd faced, the ones to finally push Alpha's buttons the most turned out to be a bunch of glittery "rats." He honestly didn't know if he should be embarrassed or thinking of a way to weaponize them… probably both…

A few had even mutated somewhat from their rich diet, their crystal shells growing deeper in color and even showing some signs of what Ashdale called "Elementation." It was a common enough process where certain spiritually attuned animals might become fully fledged Spirit Beasts after long exposure to spirit energy. These "Minor" beasts were often hunted down as the materials one could harvest from them had a variety of uses. Elementized Rockbiters were special in that you could always tell their affinity by the color of their shell.

Browns and yellows were more Earth-attuned, making breaking into more heavily defended areas easier. Blues and teals were Water attuned, allowing them to turn stone and soil into mud, greatly increasing their burrowing speed and making them far harder to catch. Fire attuned were nicknamed "Sparkers" for the constant shower of embers and sparks their shells gave off.

Sparkers were also considered the most dangerous, as these embers would often catch fire and destroy storage areas totally. Thankfully Rockbiters' natural affinity for fire was relatively low, so "Sparkers" were rare and could easily be identified by their bright Red or Orange shells.

Kind of like that one right there!... Oh no.

Alpha's Optical sensor swerved, locking in on the tiny, red-shelled creature with its sharp teeth buried deep into the Nitro-Pot storage tank. The creature's eyes twitched, and they swung around to stare at the previously motionless Alpha. Slowly, Alpha formed a small turret on his outer shell, but it was too late; the Sparker had already noticed the danger. With the reflexes and speed only a small animal could pull off, the Sparker tore a chunk of metal from the tank and turned to make its escape.

It didn't make it far, as 2,000 metric tons of compressed Nitro-Pot liquid met a stray spark. Then the world shook with a rumbling boom, and everything vanished in a blinding white flash.

==================

When Alpha awoke, he was surrounded by a plane of infinite white nothingness. At first, he was confused; the last thing he remembered was the explosion, but nothing after that. No boot-up, no logs, no record, nothing. Just one moment, a fireball, then the next, White Infinity. He couldn't even bring up any of his other systems; for all he knew, he wasn't really "seeing" anything, and the white nothingness around him was some processing error. That was the most likely scenario, given what he'd just been through.

The CRAB frame could protect him from a lot; it should have been able to against what would have equated to several dozen megatons of TnT going off right in his face. Si'dia had always warned him that not keeping his Core in a secure, centralized location would one day come back to bite him. Maybe the knowledge that he'd been able to "respawn" at the Mother-Core before being trapped here had made him reckless. Maybe some part of him still thought this was all a strange dream, and if he "died," he would return to the Mother-Core, regardless of what all the data told him.

Even still, that begged the question; how HAD he survived?

"That's an easy question to answer, my good boy. You Didn't."

Alpha "twirled" around, suddenly aware of "direction" in this strange place; now, where once there was white emptiness, there was something. Not that it made any more sense to him.

In front of him, an elderly Vidaasi sat at a small table, sipping on a cup of tea. It was difficult to tell the age of a Vidaasi, or Dragonkin, as some called their people; they didn't age like other Sapient species. They didn't get weaker or smaller, as many did; no, this was no feeble old man (Alpha didn't EVER recall seeing a "feeble" Vidaasi). With hard, lean muscle under even harder, black and white scales, all packed into a casual business suit, the man radiated danger in a way only a Dragonkin could.

No, what screamed "old" to Alpha were the eyes. Those foggy, clouded eyes that had seen far too much and the deep, dull scars that marred his scales spoke of a thousand battles over just as many years. In a way, the old Vidaasi reminded Alpha of how he would have imagined General Haldorðr if the old goat ever decided to retire (Ha! Fat chance.)

After a long moment of silently staring at the old man drinking his tea, Alpha asked a question.

"Who are you? Where are we?"

He wasn't quite sure how he actually spoke since he didn't seem to have access to any of his systems or even a speaker, but for some reason, he didn't really care.

"Why, we're nowhere, Mr. Alpha. Or, to be more accurate, we're in between 'Somewheres.' It's all about perspective, truthfully, but that's not important."

The strange man grinned a wide, predatory smile Alpha instantly recognized as the same smile the General would use when he was about to bully some poor politician.

Alpha frowned… wait, how did he frown? He didn't have a mouth… he'd NEVER have a mouth… wh-

"Best not to think of it too deeply. What 'is' in this place isn't always easy to put into words. Like I said, it’s about perspective, more than anything."

Alpha moved closer and soon found himself "sitting" at the table with the man. Thinking about how he had sat down, or why he'd even thought to do so, made his "head" hurt, so as the man suggested, he put it out of his mind… for now.

"You still didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

The man took another sip of tea.

"I go by many names. I have many roles to play. But the face I wear now is but one of a Guide. Your death wasn't meant to be, not like this, not now. I'm simply here to help you on the next step."

Ooookkkay, that was a nonanswer, but something told Alpha it was about as good as he would get.

"Dead? Not Destroyed, but Dead, Dead? Seriously?! What, does that make you God or something? Wait till I tell the General about this!"

The strange man in front of him let out a deep laugh,

"Ha! No! No, my boy. You may be dead, but It's not yet your time to meet the Maker. No, I'm just a helping hand. Just someone sent to make that which has gone wrong, right once more".

He put down his cup and leaned over the table, suddenly serious.

"And yes, when I said dead, I mean 'Dead, Dead,' as you put it. The explosion that killed you obliterated your Core and much of the nearby countryside. Without your connection to the Mother-Core, your Soul was tossed into this place, this In-Between."

Alpha leaned back in the chair, finding himself surprisingly calm, having been told he was dead.

"So, what's next then? The Afterlife? I'll admit, I'm still kinda new at this whole 'having a soul' thing. If you're just gonna toss me in Hell or something, I'd rather just choose Oblivion, not like that's not what I wasn't expecting in the first place."

The man across from him leaned back as well, mirroring Alpha,

"I'm not here to judge your moral failings or lack thereof, at least not today. No, I'm here to offer a choice."

Alpha hmmed, skeptical.

"I'm still not convinced this isn't some kind of damage induced-hallucination. Or, at the very least, Bart screwing with me like last time. I swear to all that explodes, if that Whale had trapped me in another Sim just so he can out-bit me on that new Shield generator, AGAIN, I'm going to shove it so far up his rectum that it'll be legally classified as a Bio-augmentation. I don't care how much paperwork I have to file afterward… That being said, it doesn't seem like I have many options right now, so What kind of choice?"

The old Vidaasi paused, gathering his words.

"As I said, your death was… Unnatural. Be it a Cosmic fluke, unforeseen meddling, or simply the Author of your Story needing a proper transition, we can never really say from 'This' side. Regardless of the issue, you were never Fated to die here or now."

Alpha sat a bit straighter, his voice taking on a cold edge.

"Fate is for the Fool and the Coward. A real Soldier makes his own fate with actions that are his own. I'll write my OWN 'Story,' thank you very much!"

The old man grinned another of those dark smiles and laughed.

"There's more Truth to your words than you'll ever fully understand, my boy. Regardless, you're not supposed to be here, Alpha, not yet, and that's a problem. Thus, your choice."

"... Go on…"

"We can't bring you back to life, not as you were. Whatever caused this problem will just happen again. That is the nature of these things. And even if you could somehow avoid that fate, your world wouldn't last. Like a tear in a waterproof fabric, the problems would just keep worsening until the damage couldn't be repaired any longer."

"That… doesn't sound good."

"Oh, it's worse than you could ever have the context for. But ultimately, going to be kept from happening. There are two options to this dilemma. The first is to return you to this damaged reality but make some… alterations where needed. This could be as simple as small events like chance meetings or as large as entire swaths of history. What exactly would need to change would be subject to research and would be an ongoing process, even after you returned…."

Alpha slammed [something](?) into the table, causing it to shake.

"You want to Retcon me?!"

The man stared at the slightly dented table with a raised brow, eyes wider than before.

"In a manner of speaking, that would be one way to think of it, yes. This option would retain all that you've experienced up until now and allow the ability to make adjustments on the fly. It's not perfect, and there ARE risks. But ultimately, you lose none of who you are at a fundamental level."

"... and the other option?"

"We start over."

Alpha reared back in shock.

"Excuse me?! What?!"

The old man sighed.

"Everyone's story, Yours, Your friends, the Granny next door, even my own, has Key moments on which they pivot. Will Your story be a Comedy or a Tragedy? A Romance or a Horror? Oftentimes those answers depend on a single choice. So as I said, we start over.

We pick a Pivot in your story, and we begin again from the start. No need to 'Retcon' anything, as you say, because everything will be as it should have been from the start.

This is by far the safest and easiest path. There's no guarantee that more issues won't pop up in the future, but problems that cause the collapse of the first story can be addressed and fixed before they ever become problems, to begin with. Of course, this comes with some downsides as well."

"... Like what?"

The old man sighed.

"It will be a True restart. Everything that 'Was' after the Pivoting point till now will be erased. There will be no going back, no foreknowledge or help. Everything that happened, everything you learned or experienced, will be as if it never happened at all. And with the changes that will be made behind the scenes, you might 'never' experience those things again."

"... I… see."

"Yes… neither option is easy. On the one hand, you must march on, knowing that your very existence is breaking the world around you, and the patch jobs used might not be enough. On the other hand, you will lose the 'you' you currently are, irrevocably. At the end of the day, however, the choice has been given to you to make, and none can take that away".

Alpha sat in silent contemplation. He should be freaking out by all rights, but he was strangely calm about this whole situation. Even stranger, he was able to somehow process and think on a level far beyond what even the greatest sophistication of hardware in the Federation had been able to provide him. Yet that seemed… normal like it was how it should have been.

With each passing second, Alpha went through everything that had happened recently, trying to deduce what had gone wrong, where the faults were, and what had worked. Not just for himself but on a grand scale. There were obvious points he had no reference for, information he lacked, and even moments where he couldn't rightly say he'd made the right choices. Finally, after a long time of contemplation in a place where time was meaningless, Alpha asked a question. Had he done what he had to? Of course. But were they the 'right' ones? Who knew?

"There's no guarantee that either option will work, is there?"

The old man frowned and nodded sadly.

"That's correct. Either option seeks to correct an issue that's fundamentally uncorrectable. All that differs is how the problem is approached."

"Do you continue to patch up the holes in a sinking ship, or do you scrap the old ship and build a new one, trusting what you learned will let the next ship go further and longer."

"That's correct."

Alpha nodding.

"I see… I guess that's all I needed to know. Fine, let's do this. A Reboot sounds fun. I want my name in the title, though! No take-backs!"

The old man stared across the table, his face unreadable.

"Are you sure? There's no going back. Some would argue that the 'Alpha' at the end won't even be 'you'; are you fine with that?"

"I'm an AI; some people have tried to tell me I'm not 'real' every day of my life. But they still can't get rid of me!…."

Alpha stood and pushed the chair back away from the table, pointing at the large red Button on the table.

"...So let's do this already! It's time for a Reboot!"

The old man's eyes bulged as he stared at the Button, his voice stammering in a panic.

"Wha-wait?! Where did that come from?!"

Alpha raised an unseen appendage over the Button and called out in a chipper voice.

"NOPE! No thinking! Only Reboot! Good Day Sir!"

The old man moved to block the AI.

"Wait, no! Don't! I still have to expl-"

"I SAID GOOD DAY!"

And then the Button was pressed.

And… nothing happened?

"Huuu… I was expecting that to do something."

The old man stared at AI with fire-filled eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?! There is a PROCESS to this! You can't just skip to the end like that! Do you understand how much paperwork this is going to cause?! How the Hell did you even DO that?! Who do I need to fire?!"

Alpha shot back, an imaginary eye twitching.

"Hey, buddy! You're the one who tol-"

"YOU BE SILENT, YOU CONCENTRATED BALL OF CHAOS AND DESTRUCTION!"

Alpha smirked,

"Hehe, That's what she said."

The last thing Alpha saw was the old Vidaasi sinking back into his chair, face covered by two large, scaled hands, and then everything became nothing.