The Oracle Alliance, once a scattered collection of whispers and data streams, had transformed into a living, breathing war machine. The two new resource bounties, posted by Oracle himself, had sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated excitement through the entire organization. It was a change of pace from the grim, clandestine war against Prometheus. This was different. This was a treasure hunt.
In the vast, sun-scorched expanse of the Gobi Desert Scarred Lands, a scene of organized chaos unfolded. A massive, freshly formed meteor crater smoked under the morning sun, and dozens of Alliance hunter squads swarmed over it like ants on a fallen fruit. This was the "Gobi Gold Rush," as the hunters were calling it.
"Get a sensor reading over here!" a gruff voice roared. It was Old Croc, captain of the "Stray Dogs." His team was working in a synergistic partnership with a smaller, tech-focused squad called the "Digi-Gophers."
"Getting a massive energy spike, Captain!" a young Gopher yelled back, his sensor device whining. "Thirty meters down! It's big!"
This was the new culture of the Alliance. There was no infighting over resources. The mission was collaborative. Combat squads like the Stray Dogs provided a protective perimeter, their energy rifles spitting fire at the monstrous, crystalline scorpions and giant sandworms that had been attracted by the meteor's potent spiritual energy. In return, the tech squads shared the location of the valuable Starlight Cores they found, splitting the eventual Contribution Point reward.
It was a perfect ecosystem of survival and profit, all orchestrated by their unseen shepherd.
"Contact! West flank!" a hunter screamed as a colossal, armored sandworm erupted from the sand, its maw a vortex of grinding teeth.
"Berserkers! On me!" another, even louder roar cut through the chaos. It was AxeManiac. He and his squad, diverted here after their last mission, charged the beast, their energy axes glowing with a furious light. "Oracle wants his shiny rocks! And no overgrown earthworm is going to stand in our way!"
The battle was brutal, but the hunters were winning. They were not just fighting for money or fame. They were on a mission from their god, and they fought with a zealous fervor that was terrifying to behold. Hours later, as the sun reached its zenith, Old Croc's team, protected by the Berserkers, finally unearthed their prize.
It was a chunk of crystal the size of a man's head. It was not transparent; it was a fragment of the night sky itself. Deep within its flawless, dark depths, a miniature galaxy of captured starlight swirled and pulsed with a gentle, cosmic light. A flawless Starlight Core.
"Report to Nomad-Lead," Old Croc said, his voice filled with a rare sense of awe as he stared at the impossible beauty of the artifact. "Tell her... we found a big one."
Meanwhile, in the treacherous, windswept peaks of the Kunlun mountain range, a different kind of hunt was underway. This was not a chaotic battle against mindless beasts. It was a precise, military ambush.
A heavily armed Prometheus Initiative mining convoy, consisting of three armored transports and a dozen elite guards, was making its way up a narrow, winding mountain pass. Their objective: a recently rediscovered vein of Orichalcum, a rare, pre-Revival metal with unparalleled spiritual energy conductivity.
They never made it.
The plan, orchestrated by General Jiang Wei and commanded in the field by a cold-eyed veteran captain from the Iron Vultures, was executed with flawless precision.
The first Kinetic Breacher charge, planted hours earlier, detonated high above the convoy, triggering a controlled rockslide. Boulders the size of cars crashed down, blocking the pass in front of them. As the convoy ground to a halt, a second charge detonated behind them, sealing the only escape route. They were trapped in a kill box.
"For the Traitors!" the Vulture captain roared over the comms, and the ambush began. Alliance hunters, who had been lying in wait in hidden positions, opened fire from all sides. It was a brutal, one-sided slaughter. The Prometheus team, caught completely by surprise in the narrow pass, had no room to maneuver. They were professional soldiers, but the Alliance hunters were a pack of wolves, fueled by a righteous fury against the traitors who had been secretly sacrificing their kind.
The battle was over in less than ten minutes. The Alliance secured the cargo: three heavy crates filled with the raw, faintly glowing, golden-hued Orichalcum ore. They took no prisoners. Oracle's new war had no room for them.
In the digital war room of [Channel: Zero], the core members watched the two operations unfold in real-time.
Su Liying and her Analysis Core were the central nervous system of the entire campaign. They processed sensor data from the Gobi, warning squads of incoming monster waves before they even appeared. They monitored Prometheus's panicked communications, feeding intel to the Kunlun ambush force. Su Liying was a true commander, her mind a nexus of a dozen different battlefields.
But as she watched the reports of success stream in, a profound, heavy sense of responsibility washed over her. All of this. The hundreds of hunters risking their lives. The brutal, efficient elimination of the Prometheus team. All of it was for her. It was all to gather the components for a gift to keep her safe. The thought was as humbling as it was terrifying.
Hephaestus: "Excellent! The Gobi team has secured a flawless Core! And the Vultures have the Orichalcum! Stop playing in the dirt and get those materials to my forge! I have a goddess to adorn!"
Old-Man-Jiang: "The operations were a success. But the fervor of the Alliance hunters... it's becoming almost fanatical. They see Oracle not just as a leader, but as a true prophet. We are cultivating a powerful, but potentially dangerous, belief system."
Lin Mei simply watched the casualty reports. They were minimal. Her hunters were winning, and they were surviving. That was all that mattered to her.
In his quiet apartment, Qin Mo observed the successful conclusion of his two resource hunts. His plan had worked perfectly. The materials for the 'Aegis of Stillness', the cornerstone of his Sanctuary Protocol for Su Liying, were now secured.
He had just mobilized hundreds of people, risked dozens of lives, and orchestrated the complete annihilation of an enemy squad, all for a single, personal objective. He felt no guilt. He felt no pride. He simply processed the result. It was the most logical, most efficient path to securing his most valuable asset.
His gaze shifted to a secure, encrypted, live feed on his terminal. It showed Su Liying in her remote command hub, her face a mask of intense, focused concentration, a true commander guiding her armies.
A cold, analytical, and yet profoundly absolute thought formed in his mind.
'The cost is irrelevant. A king must protect his queen.'
The thought was not born of romance, not yet. It was a strategic, possessive, and undeniable truth.
'Not because she is weak, but because without her, the kingdom is not worth ruling.'