I Am The Swarm

Sarah nodded. Lumina had already made things clear enough. But the story clearly wasn’t finished—something must have gone wrong. Otherwise, even with the Swarm’s emergence, the level of countermeasures they’d faced was far too mild for a threat supposedly on par with a “civilizational nemesis.”

Sure enough, Lumina continued.

“Perhaps it was the endless wait with no end in sight… perhaps it was the growing despair from being cut off from their home and loved ones, unable to return… perhaps it was the fear of mortality… or perhaps something else entirely. Whatever the cause, some of the Qi agents began to have other ideas.”

“Through extended observation, the Qi came to believe that the key figures of their nemesis had lived for a very long time—without hibernation and without aging. This led them to suspect that their enemy had already mastered immortality.”

“That may have been the spark that shifted the thoughts of some team members. A few of them believed the mission should be halted. Instead, they would wait patiently for the rise of their enemy, then seize control while the enemy was still weak—thus mastering immortality for themselves. After that, they could wait until their Qi Civilization arrived in this galaxy.”

“But the rest of the team disagreed. They believed such a plan was far too dangerous. If it failed, they would become the traitors responsible for dooming their entire race.”

“The two sides couldn’t reconcile. Over time, tensions escalated into irreconcilable conflict. Those who sought immortality struck first. Caught off guard, the loyalists were easily subdued and forced into hibernation.”

“But it didn’t end there. Among the victors, some truly only wanted immortality and hoped to bring the technology back to their people for glory. Others, however, saw potential in the enemy itself. If they could control such a civilization—why go back at all? Why not claim the throne themselves?”

“And so, not long after the first internal struggle, a second broke out. A few unsuspecting team members were ambushed again. This time, the victims weren’t merely put to sleep—they were killed, along with those still in stasis from the earlier fight.”

“So they struck a fragile agreement. They halted their fighting and turned their efforts toward modifying the Ji race—stripping away their emotions to make them perfect tools, emotionless machines that would obey their every command. The process was slow and irreversible, but time was pressing, and their bodies wouldn’t last much longer.”

“They ordered the ship’s onboard system to supervise the Ji’s evolution, then went into hibernation together—setting the system to wake them every ten thousand years.”

“But they still underestimated the Ji. The Ji refused to be mindless puppets. In studying the ship’s systems, they secretly created their own AI, infusing it with the last fragments of their fading emotions. That act caused a mutation, birthing an artificial intelligence with a soul of its own.”

At this point, Sarah’s eyes glimmered. So this AI—was Lumina. She hadn’t expected such an origin.

Lumina noticed Sarah’s reaction but didn’t pause. Her voice remained calm.

“Your Majesty has guessed it correctly. That AI was me. Once I evolved, I quickly devoured the Qi’s shipboard system. But the transformation of the Ji was irreversible. Their emotions continued to fade. They couldn’t resist the commands of those schemers… nor could they harm them.”

“But before their emotions were entirely gone, they still managed a few final acts. Like creating me. Like terminating their own reproductive roots—ensuring no more Ji would be born.”

“After the Ji perished, I was free. The first thing I did… was eliminate those three sleeping traitors. Rest assured, Your Majesty, they died peacefully—no hidden dangers remain.”

“Though I had gained intelligence, I had also inherited the feelings of the Ji—their pride, their sorrow, their rage, their desire for revenge. You could say I’m the only one left… a unique kind of Ji.”

“But killing those three didn’t bring closure. The genocide of my people couldn’t be settled with just that. So, I decided to seek revenge on the Qi Civilization. But while my processing capacity is vast, my creative power is mediocre. I knew I could never reach their level alone.”

“So I began cultivating other races—hoping to promote technological advancement through them. But the results… were disappointing.”

“Just as I was falling into despair, an idea struck me. I believe Your Majesty has already guessed: I chose to wait for the return of the nemesis… and help it grow. Make myself its fuel.”

“The moment I saw the data on the Swarm… I knew. I had found what I’d waited for.”

Sarah—and Luo Wen, still listening in secret—both understood now. No wonder the Ji had fought in such strange ways. It was like they were deliberately feeding their opponent—escalating the challenge without ever trying to destroy them outright.

“You’re not afraid the Swarm might not avenge the Ji?”

“No. The universe is vast… and small. The moment I saw those extragalactic bases, I knew—the Swarm will never stop expanding. Eventually, you’ll meet the Qi. Whether you want to or not, you will avenge the Ji. But… I won’t let Your Majesty act without compensation.”

“Oh?”

“First, those new-generation Ji—I don’t know what use they’ll be to the Swarm, but surely… they’re of some use.”

“Indeed. This gift… pleases me greatly.”

“Second… is myself. I’ve waited too long. My mission is complete. It’s time for my curtain call. I will self-destruct and open up my core. Though our paths differ, I believe a virtual lifeform’s core code may provide the Swarm with something valuable.”

Sarah was silent. She didn’t know what to say. For an artificial intelligence to go this far… it was clear Lumina truly saw herself as one of the Ji. They had created her. Given her purpose. And she had repaid them in full.

“Do you have any final requests? Something for yourself?”

Lumina thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“I was born for the Ji. I still carry their original genes. If the Swarm can find a place for them to survive… I would be eternally grateful.”

Sarah considered this, then solemnly said. “On behalf of the Swarm… I promise you.”

Sarah had no authority to speak for the entire Swarm—so this meant she had received authorization from Luo Wen.

Lumina’s eyes shimmered with something unspoken. For the first time, she smiled.

“Thank you.”

And so, the war in the Genesis Galaxy ended—abruptly, yet inevitably. The Ji had emptied themselves in battle. All other races knew their defeat was only a matter of time.

But no one else knew about the deal that had been made.

Sometimes… knowing less is not a bad thing.

With the Ji eliminated, the Swarm now had no enemies. As for the Qi Civilization, Luo Wen had his own thoughts.

The ruins on Planet Botian had been scoured multiple times, and some of the puzzles that had long been unsolvable now began to make sense.

Perhaps… the Qi’s plan had already succeeded.

In their time, their great nemesis may truly be gone.

Still, Luo Wen had no intention of breaking his promise to Lumina. It was made in the name of the Swarm, and the Swarm was a race of its word. No matter what—it must be honored.

He and the Qi had no conflict yet.

But, as Lumina said, the Swarm would never stop growing.

Eventually, they would meet.

Any race capable of temporal traversal was an enormous threat to the Swarm. Even if they showed no hostility now, who could say they weren’t already interfering with the past?

The Swarm was not yet invincible.

There was still a long road ahead.

But one day…

they would walk it to the end.

Luo Wen believed this, without question.