Chapter 261: Unknown
Two days later, twenty Federation team members and seven reptilian natives emerged from the surface exit of the massive cavern...
Jason climbed out, saw the two bright stars hanging in the alien sky, and breathed a slight sigh of relief.
He wondered: Should we drill a more efficient transit tunnel right through the mountain? Otherwise, traveling over 100 kilometers underground every time they wanted to visit the native village would be a logistical nightmare.
He pulled out his satellite communicator, relayed his request to Central Command on the surface, and transmitted the exact coordinates of the village. The engineering division promptly agreed, promising to locate a geological weak point and excavate a shortcut as soon as possible.
The seven reptilian natives, bundled in thick leather hides, likely the entirety of their village’s winter reserves shivered violently in the freezing surface temperatures. Emerging from the cavern, they all fixed their eyes reverently on Jason.
Clearly, after spending a few days together, the perceptive natives had figured out that Jason was the supreme leader of the "Messengers of the Gods." As long as they pleased him, the divine gifts would keep flowing...
The telescopic metal spears they carried felt absolutely incredible! Their lethality compared to their old wooden sticks was night and day!
A few minutes later, a deep electronic hum resonated through their headsets. A colossal, unmanned dropship slowly descended from the sky.
It was an Aegis-class heavy airship!
Measuring 260 meters long and 50 meters wide, with an envelope volume of 235,000 cubic meters, it was one of the largest rigid airships ever constructed by the Federation! This unprecedented behemoth was reinforced with superalloy framing and filled with inert helium gas, ensuring maximum safety. Powered by heavy jet-propulsion thrusters, it boasted terrifying transport capacity and formidable cruising speeds.
Some critics might call it a massive waste of resources; the cost of forging a colossal airship from military-grade superalloys was astronomically high. But only three of these dreadnoughts existed. They were floating monuments to the sheer scale, power, determination, and unyielding faith of the Federation!
Humanity needed an indomitable industrial machine to conquer this dark, hostile world. Building such an economically inefficient titan wasn’t just to show off—after all, there was no one else around to impress.
...It was built to inspire the colonists and project the unbreakable will of mankind! If a flying spaceship could rally the citizens’ fighting spirit, why not build it?
Jason led the way aboard the vessel. The natives were absolutely terrified of the colossal flying beast, but they huddled together and nervously followed him up the ramp.
The moment they stepped inside the pressurized cabin, they were hit by a wave of warmth and... unprecedented comfort! It was unbelievably cozy!
To accommodate their native guides, the ship’s internal environmental controls had been adjusted to mimic Nyx’s subterranean atmosphere. The temperature, oxygen saturation, and lighting were all calibrated to a perfectly comfortable range for the lizardmen.
The massive airship ascended smoothly, without a single tremor. Only by looking through the reinforced observation windows could one see the dark, frozen earth slowly falling away beneath them.
The lizardmen pointed and chattered in awe at the shrinking landscape outside. They truly believed... they had just been welcomed into the Kingdom of the Gods!
So-called ’gods’ are nothing more than a civilization with superior technology, Jason sighed inwardly. This is the unfathomable gap between civilizations—like the difference between heaven and earth.
If the Federation wanted to, they possessed dozens of ways to effortlessly wipe these natives off the face of the planet.
So, what about a truly advanced, interstellar empire? How did they view humanity? Did they look down on them with the exact same cold indifference? Perhaps... in the eyes of a true Type-II or Type-III civilization, the humans of old Earth were no different from these primitive lizardmen?
The technological chasm between species was sometimes so unimaginably vast that the lesser race could only conceptualize the superior one as "divine."
Lost in these philosophical thoughts, the time flew by...
Several hours later, the Aegis-class airship covered the 600-kilometer distance, arriving at the extinct volcano that marked their destination.
As soon as the ramp lowered, the reptilian natives shrieked in absolute delight. It was so fast!
Originally, the trek required navigating a tortuous, labyrinthine underground route, punctuated by brief, freezing surface sprints that nearly killed them. But now... they had bypassed that grueling month-long death march in a matter of hours!
"Is this the right place?" Jason asked, double-checking his tactical display.
"Yes, sir, this is it!" the lead xeno-linguist confirmed after exchanging a few clicks and gestures with the natives. A heavy surge of adrenaline flooded the linguist’s veins.
Did this unknown, mechanical civilization still exist? Or had they gone extinct eons ago...? Or could this be the wreckage of an alien starship?
The truth was waiting for them in the dark!
The young chieftain eagerly took point, locating a familiar cavern entrance and disappearing into the gloom. The subterranean depths were their true home, infinitely preferable to the frozen surface wasteland.
Jason and the expedition team followed closely behind, plunging deeper into the dark.
Geologically, this cavern network looked strikingly similar to the others, clearly carved out by ancient swarms of acid-spitting bugs. However, this sector was visibly much older and more dilapidated than Cavern B11. Massive sections of the tunnel had collapsed, making navigation treacherous, and the bioluminescent flora was incredibly sparse.
"We’re currently about 100 meters below the surface, but the ambient temperature is hovering at minus two degrees Celsius. It seems... the geothermal energy in this sector is completely dead," a geologist sighed, checking his thermal scanner.
Geothermal radiation was the absolute bedrock of the underground ecosystem. Without heat, there was no life. However, geothermal vents possessed a natural lifespan, typically ranging from a few thousand to over a million years. Magma shifted, and tectonic plates moved.
The trek continued without incident; they encountered virtually zero subterranean life.
Yet, as they pressed deeper, the tension in the air grew thick enough to cut with a knife. The Senior Scientists constantly checked their telemetry scanners, while the Marines racked the bolts of their heavy Gauss rifles, preparing for a potential firefight.
Everyone kept their heads on a swivel, scanning the shadows for any trace of an advanced civilization. Even the native guides began to drag their feet, their body language radiating sheer dread, as if something horrific was lurking just out of sight. They hissed and clicked nervously among themselves.
"He’s saying that it’s never been this unnaturally cold before. He believes this entire sector is cursed..." the linguist translated softly.
No one took the superstitious warning to heart. The Federation crew knew the cold was simply due to dead magma flows, not a supernatural curse.
But the environment was completely barren—just dead rock and mud. There wasn’t a single trace of artificial civilization...
Suddenly, the native chieftain stopped dead in his tracks. He whipped around and began frantically clicking and gesturing to the lead linguist.
"Sir, he says: ’The Forbidden Zone lies just ahead. Death dwells in these shadows; those who enter never return, and terrible monsters lurk within!’"
Jason frowned. He peered down the tunnel but saw nothing out of the ordinary—it looked like any other jagged cave entrance.
"Are your instruments picking up anything?" Jason asked, turning to the science team.
"Nothing structural, Captain," one of the Senior Scientists replied, his brow furrowing as he tapped his console. "However, the ambient nuclear radiation levels in this corridor are abnormally high, and they’re spiking exponentially the further we go! That explains the curse. The lizardmen who came here didn’t fall to evil spirits; they died from acute radiation poisoning."
"High nuclear radiation?" Jason mused, trying to connect the dots.
Their heavy powered armor functioned as fully sealed environmental suits, easily shielding them from lethal radiation doses. But the primitive leather hides worn by the natives offered zero protection.
"Alright. Tell the natives to hold position out here. We don’t need them dying of radiation sickness. The expedition team pushes forward alone. Let’s see what’s inside..."
When the chieftain finally grasped the translation, he let out a massive, visible sigh of relief. The sacred laws of his ancestors forbade him from ever entering the cursed zone unless absolutely forced.
"Move out!" Jason ordered, waving his hand forward and taking the point position.
He methodically swept his tactical light across the gloom, his instincts from his past life in the Federation Special Forces kicking into high gear. He remained as calm and composed as ever, fully shouldering the responsibility for the lives of his crew.
The detachment, consisting of eleven combat Marines and nine Senior Scientists, fell into a tight, highly disciplined diamond formation, maintaining absolute radio silence and maximum alertness.
