Chapter 21: ch-21 But I am your reinforcement, alright? Trust me
"Be that as it may," continued William, "I mean, yeah—the insectoid race could become a threat at some point. But as someone (Elsa) just said, they pose no danger to those who are truly strong, and I agree with that. Also, if humanity continues to grow the way it is, it will always stay ahead of the insectoids in terms of development and power."
He paused for a moment, then added, "One more thing that got me curious: both humans and insectoids are seen as invaders by this universe. The only real difference? The insectoids came from outside the universe... while humans originated from the Milky Way within it."
Elsa raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Surprising, isn’t it? That they managed to reach here. It couldn’t have been anything but blind luck. I mean... what are the chances a wormhole just happens to connect their home galaxy to this one—and that they have the ability to cross it?"
Ascendancy’s voice chimed in smoothly, "Indeed. But look at the result: humanity has lost access to the wormhole. They’re cut off from their home galaxy, isolated from reinforcements... and hunted by nearly every native species in this one."
She paused before adding, "And yet... they’ve survived. Thanks to their wits, technological superiority, and especially... those ’god-class’ mech pilots. They’re something else entirely."
William nodded, slowly. "That... they are."
Elsa smirked slightly, leaning back. "I’m beginning to think this galaxy might get interesting after all."
William leaned forward in his command seat, eyes narrowing at the real-time data floating in holographic streams before him. "Yeah... it’s indeed impressive," he muttered, almost to himself. "From what we’re seeing, this galaxy might actually be worth our time. Worthy of being the foundation for something... new."
His gaze lingered on the tactical display showcasing the human fleet’s desperate stand—flanked by insectoid monstrosities, overwhelmed but still fighting. "And don’t even get me started on those mechas," he added, a flicker of interest in his voice. "Those so-called ’god pilots’... It’s a cultivation system, isn’t it? Crude, sure—but unmistakably one."
He was about to launch into a deeper analysis—probably something far too inappropriate given the situation—when Elsa cut him off with a firm slap to his shoulder.
"Hey," she said sharply, her voice carrying a mix of teasing and warning. "Save the rambling for later, alright? We’ve got humans to save first."