Mark's Ark, like a solitary yet resilient comet, tore through the false prosperity of the Alliance's core star systems and plunged into the deepest, most dangerous scar in the universe.
Five years, but a blink of an eye in the vast cosmic scale, yet for Mark, it was a long journey of measuring despair with his steps, blasting away the fog with his fists, and resisting madness with his will.
His journey had no pre-set course, only a keen perception of the Great Old Ones' aura and a persistent pursuit of cosmic anomalies.
He stepped into those death zones completely swallowed by the Great Old Ones, leaving only distorted space-time and mad echoes.
Deep within the Nebula of Wails, he witnessed planetary debris twisted by unseen forces into giant, blasphemous statues, upon which wriggled never-fading corrupt energy entities.
He ventured in alone, purifying the core with the power of a star, yet his mind was shaken by the desperate wails, almost losing himself.
He delved into the ruins of forgotten ancient civilizations.
In the Geometric Graveyard star system, he encountered the Guardian Titan's lost outpost, a killing machine driven by pure rules.
After a fierce battle that shook the stellar remnants, he obtained incomplete records, etched into core crystals, about the Great Old Ones' flesh assimilation mechanism.
He tracked spatial structure anomalies.
In the Void Echo Belt, he directly faced swarms of spatial rift beasts, born from the remnants of Taviel's power, capable of tearing reality apart.
During the intense battle, he captured a faint but clear spatial coordinate fluctuation originating from Taviel's main body, though it was fleeting, and he endured a dimensional cut capable of tearing a cruiser apart, leaving a deep, bone-visible scar.
He visited civilizations struggling for survival on the edge of the Great Old Ones' pollution.
Some, like the Moss People, uploaded their consciousness to a planetary fungal network, resisting mental contamination with a collective will.
Others, like the Crystal Swarm, used high-frequency energy resonance to purify corrupted areas, but became xenophobic and fragile as a result.
He offered aid, purifying contamination nodes, teaching basic Titan geometric defense principles, and also piecing together fragmented information about the different forms, authorities, and weaknesses of the Great Old Ones from the ancient legends and forbidden murals of these civilizations.
Every encounter was a test of life and death.
His power was honed in real combat, becoming more refined and efficient; his molten-gold eyes shed the dazzling heat of their awakening, settling into a deep glow, weathered by time and insightful of darkness.
He no longer casually unleashed star-bursting power, but like the most precise cosmic warrior, used every ounce of strength where it counted.
His body bore countless scars, some physical, some marks of mental erosion, forcibly suppressed by his powerful will.
Over five years, encrypted, illustrated stardust logs and Great Old Ones ecological data packets traversed the vast star sea, regularly sent back to Allen of the Order Alliance.
The logs detailed the behavioral patterns, energy characteristics, weaknesses, and purification methods of various Great Old Ones' derivatives.
The data packets contained extensive information on the Great Old Ones' erosion mechanisms, signs of distorted spatial structures, and conceptual weaknesses of the Great Old Ones compiled from legends of different civilizations.
There was also his tracking analysis of Taviel's residual power and an assessment of the Old Japanese Body's dormant state; It had not disappeared, but was licking its wounds and accumulating strength in a deeper, darker place.
This information was quickly organized, verified, and disseminated by Allen's team, becoming a practical encyclopedia for the Order Alliance and even the entire Alliance in combating the remnants of the Great Old Ones.
Mark's travels provided the Alliance with valuable intelligence and tactical guidance, greatly improving clearance efficiency and survival rates.
Five years passed.
Under Trigg's iron-fisted fortress star system strategy, Mark's precise intelligence guidance, and the Order Alliance's continuous clearance and rescue efforts in the fringe star systems, the activity frequency of Great Old Ones' derivatives within the Alliance's controlled areas, including the spheres of influence of Trigg, the Council of Elders, and the Order Alliance, dropped to a historical low.
Planets once occupied by aberrations were reclaimed, purified, and began reconstruction.
Trade routes became busy again.
New colonies dotted the safe star systems like stars.
Civilian defense systems based on Titan technology became widespread, bringing unprecedented security to ordinary citizens.
The media was filled with optimistic reports that the Great Old Ones' threat was over and the Alliance was entering a new era.
A grand celebration of the victory over the receding shadow of the Great Old Ones was held at Alliance Headquarters, far exceeding the scale of the farewell banquet for Mark five years prior.
Brilliant fireworks bloomed in the night sky, and people sang and danced in the squares, as if the dark era had truly passed.
Trigg stood at the center of the viewing platform, receiving thunderous cheers.
He wore a more opulent imperial robe, his mechanical prosthetics gleaming with cold majesty under the lights, and he delivered an impassioned speech, attributing the victory to his wise fortress strategy and the invincible power of the White Lion, cleverly downplaying or even erasing Mark's intelligence contributions.
His prestige reached its peak, and his iron-fisted authoritarianism seemed to be proven as the only correct path.
Allen, Eve, Rudy, and others from the Order Alliance were also invited to attend.
They looked at the false prosperity before them, listened to the deafening cheers, but felt no joy in their hearts, only heavy worry.
During a break in the banquet, Allen found a Titan Avatar who was also on the viewing platform.
He asked in a low voice.
"Envoy, have the Great Old Ones... truly retreated?"
The smooth surface of the Titan Avatar's head was calm, and a cold voice resonated directly in Allen's consciousness, carrying an indifference that transcended time.
"Data... shows... Great Old Ones' derivatives... significantly reduced... logical... conclusion... current... threat... level... controllable..."
"But..."
This conjunction made Allen's heart leap.
"Great Old Ones' origin... chaotic core... entropy value... not decreased... instead... risen..."
"Dormancy... not... demise..."
"Path... not... severed... new... gate... fluctuations... perceived... in... the universe's... dark side..."
"Celebration... is... a logical... flaw... of... lower... creations... vigilance... eternal... vigilance... is... the cornerstone... of... survival..."
The Titan's warning was like a splash of ice water.
Allen immediately encrypted and transmitted this warning to the core leadership of the Order Alliance and Mark, which sounded an alarm for the Order Alliance, immersed in false victory, but only within their internal circles.
Trigg and the Council of Elders scoffed at this, believing the Titan was merely fear-mongering, or a trick by Mark's Faction, unwilling to be forgotten.
At the very moment the fireworks over Alliance Headquarters were most splendid, in the darkest, coldest, most desolate reaches of the universe, where even starlight refused to tread.
The Sea of No Light.
Here there were no stars, no planets, only eternal, all-consuming darkness and the absolute zero of deathly silence.
The spatial structure was as fragile as a spiderweb, and time had lost its meaning here.
Yet at this moment, deep within this absolute dead zone, a cataclysm was occurring, one capable of making the laws of the universe tremble!
A colossal gate, composed of pure, defiled flesh and insane will, was slowly, unstoppably growing in the void!
This gate was not a physical entity, but rather a constantly expanding wound, tearing through the dimensions of reality.
The material composing it was collected over the past five years by the Great Old Ones Taviel through countless secret channels: the corpses of forgotten civilizations, the desperate afterglow of dying stars, and...
The life essence and soul wails of countless missing beings, ignored under the Alliance's false peace!
These swallowed, sacrificed energies and matter, guided by the Old Japanese Body's will, like viscous pus, forcibly constructed a bridge across the dimensional barrier at the Sea of No Light, a node where the special spatial structure was extremely weak!
Within the gate was a place deeper, older, and more terrifying than the Sea of No Light.
The primal chaotic realm where the Great Old Ones were sealed and banished!
At the core of the gate, an unimaginably vast figure was slowly squeezing out of the chaos within!
Its form was indescribable; the barely discernible parts were countless wriggling, slimy, scale-covered giant tentacles, each seeming to be condensed from viscous darkness and the corpses of stars, covered with constantly opening and closing suckers oozing pus and compound eyes flashing with an Evil green light.
The roots of the tentacles vaguely connected to an even larger, more ineffable shadow, within which mountain-sized fins seemed to slowly undulate, emanating an extreme cold and dampness that could freeze space and rot souls.
Its very existence caused the fragile spatial structure of the Sea of No Light to groan under the strain; the absolute zero vacuum seemed to have a red-hot iron plunged into it, boiling and twisting violently!
A deep, heavy will, carrying the despair and suffocation of billions of beings sinking to the bottom of the sea, began to spread out from the gate like a viscous tide, contaminating the surrounding universe!
Ysogtha!
The Outer God among the Great Old Ones who commanded the deep sea, inundation, and endless suffocation!
It was not a pathfinder like Taviel, but represented the eternal darkness and immense pressure in the cosmic deep sea, capable of submerging all lighthouses of civilization!
It was the master of sunken cities, the nightmare that drowned all things!
Its awakening was no coincidence.
Taviel's dormancy and infiltration over the past five years were not only for healing and accumulating strength, but also for finding and constructing an optimal descent point for this kin, who was more adept at inundation and erosion!
The Alliance's false prosperity, its neglect of fringe star systems and missing populations, and Trigg's crude suppression of internal threats all provided excellent cover and sacrifices for Ysogtha's descent!
The first slimy, giant tentacle, entwined with decaying seaweed and the bones of unknown creatures, finally passed completely through the gate and slammed heavily into the void of the Sea of No Light!
There was no sound, yet it triggered cosmic-scale spatial ripples!
Countless older, more ineffable eyes hidden in the chaotic shadows behind the gate seemed to simultaneously light up with greedy and cold light at this moment, gazing at this universe about to be submerged.
The fireworks at Alliance Headquarters were still blooming, and laughter echoed through the sky.
But in the abyss of the universe, the deep-sea disaster, capable of submerging all light, had quietly descended.
Mark, who was communicating on another planet, seemed to suddenly sense something, waved his hand to interrupt the other party, and glanced at the calm and dark universe.
"Esteemed Alliance Commander, may I ask... are we not hospitable enough?"
The diplomat of that planet rubbed his hands, embarrassed and anxious.
Mark turned, shook his head apologetically, and said.
"Nothing, it must be my illusion. Let's continue our discussion..."
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