The Bloodline System Chapter 1446 Throes Of Illusion

Chapter 1446 Throes Of Illusion

Author's Note: Unedited Chapter
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"Attention, all units," she began, her voice resonating through the comms, commanding yet imbued with a sense of shared purpose.
"We are entering the sector where Gustav Crimson was last detected. I want an APB scan initiated immediately. He is a master of evasion, but he is not beyond our reach. Stay sharp and report any anomalies. Remember, he is not to be underestimated."
Her orders were dispatched, and the commander stepped back from the console, her gaze fixed on the star-studded void ahead. The fleet responded to her command with the precision of a well-oiled machine.
Across the ships, crew members sprang into action, their fingers flying over controls as scanners hummed to life, casting an invisible net wide into the depths of space in search of their elusive target.
The search for Gustav Crimson, a name that had become a whisper of legend across star systems, kicked off. Each ship, a beacon of their unwavering commitment, sailed through the darkness, united in their pursuit.
Their scan net was connected and well boosted thanks to the vast resources of the alliance so even if a spacecraft was a light year away, they would be able to detect it.
They soon detected a spacecraft that seemed similar to the structure of the one they were informed about. However, it seemed really distant.
As the fleet, under the command of the determined and formidable commander, made its way through the star-dotted blackness of space towards the oddly shaped spacecraft detected seven light years away, the air was thick with anticipation and readiness for battle.
"Adjust course. Set bearings to intercept the target," the commander instructed, her voice echoing authoritatively through the ships' intercoms.
Her gaze was fixed on the main view screen, where the solitary blip representing the spacecraft began to grow larger as they approached.
The spacecraft was also moving speedily but it was no match for the Alliance Corps fleets. They could use hyperjump several times to boost their speed and wouldn't run out.
As the fleet neared the location, every member aboard the vessels stood ready, activating their abilities and arming themselves with weapons. The silence was almost tangible, a prelude to the storm they anticipated would soon break.
Suddenly, the calm was shattered.
"Commander, the radar is picking up...anomalies," reported a sensor technician, confusion lacing his voice.
"The target... it's multiplying."
The commander frowned, stepping closer to the radar display. In moments, what had been a single entity on their screens began to duplicate, first into two, then into twenty, and soon after, into thousands of distinct signals. The fleet, poised for a singular confrontation, now faced a legion of spacecraft, a development that defied logic and experience.
"What in the cosmos is happening?" murmured one of the officers, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern.
The commander, her mind racing through possibilities, maintained her composure. "All ships, prepare for evasive maneuvers! Defensive formations, now!" she commanded, her voice cutting through the confusion like a blade.
"And someone gives me an analysis of what we're dealing with!"
The fleet was only about twenty in number. Having to face thousands of spacecraft would prove to be no mean feat. It would be impossible to come out unscathed... if they came out at all.
As the fleet scrambled to respond to the sudden multiplication of the target, theories abounded.
"Could be a cloaking device...or some sort of holographic projection," suggested one of the tactical officers, trying to make sense of the phenomenon.
"Or a trap," added another, the word hanging ominously in the air.
As they closed in, the thousands of signals began to move with an uncanny synchronization, swirling around the fleet in a mesmerizing dance that seemed almost alive.
The beauty of the display, however, did little to mask the growing concern among the crew. What had started as a mission to track down a single spacecraft had escalated into a situation that none of them had anticipated or prepared for.
The commander, watching the display, knew they had to act swiftly.
"Launch the unravel drones. I want a closer look at those ships and analyze them down to the last atom," she decided, her mind clear despite the unfolding chaos.
As the drones darted forward, relaying real-time images back to the fleet, the true nature of the multiplying spacecraft began to reveal itself.
The images showed not thousands of ships, but rather reflections, echoes of the original spacecraft refracted through what appeared to be a field of energy.
"It's some sort of reflective shield...a defense mechanism that creates duplicates of the ship across different points in space," explained the chief science officer, awe mixed with a hint of respect in his voice.
"Ingenious."
The realization that they were not facing an armada, but a single ship with an advanced cloaking mechanism, shifted the dynamics of the encounter. The commander, piecing together the information, formed a plan.
"Cease all offensive maneuvers. Let's not fall into the trap of fighting phantoms," she ordered, her mind racing ahead.
"The real spacecraft must be..." She looked around while squinting her eyes.
"There," she pointed, her voice steady and imbued with a commanding presence.
"Ignore the mirages. Focus on that quadrant. Our quarry is there, hiding in plain sight."
Her fleet, a collection of the finest ships the alliance had to offer, responded with immediate compliance.
The deadly vessels, dove into the direction indicated, cutting through space with the precision of a well-practiced squadron. They ignored the thousands of reflections, focusing instead on the emptiness between, where intuition suggested their true target lay.
As they advanced, the sea of mirage spacecraft began to thin, revealing the vast nothingness of space. It was there, amidst the void, that they spotted a single spacecraft actively fleeing from their position.
The chase was on.
The fleet, reinvigorated by the sight of their prey attempting escape, surged forward with renewed vigor, their engines blazing trails of light in the darkness.
Just as they were about to close in on the elusive spacecraft, just as victory appeared within their grasp, the target vanished. Not just the one they pursued, but every last one of the thousands of reflections that had surrounded them.
Space, once filled with the light of countless ships, was now empty, a void that mocked their efforts with its silence.
The commander and her fleet were stunned, disbelief written across the faces of every crew member who had witnessed the impossible escape.
Before they could process the turn of events, before strategies and theories could be formulated, space itself seemed to betray them.
A suction force, powerful and irresistible, pulled at the fleet, drawing them forward into an uncontrollable swirl. The ships, caught in the grip of the unseen phenomenon, began to spin, their formations breaking.
No matter how much they tried to steer away, the fleet continued to stir.
Amidst the chaos, a massive holographic projection appeared in space, a visage so familiar it sent a ripple of shock through the fleet.
It looked like an image of Gustav, towering over them with a presence that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. His voice, amplified to match his colossal projection, filled the void.
"You thought you could catch me," he began a hint of amusement in his tone.
"I was always one step ahead. This..." he gestured to the space around them, the trap they had unwittingly sprung, "...was my design. A simple trick, and yet you fell for it."
His laughter, deep and resonating, echoed across the stars, a sound that would haunt the alliance fleet for cycles to come.
"The alliance will never be able to catch me," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction.
"You are playing a game you cannot win."
With that, the massive holographic display vanished, leaving the fleet spinning in the aftermath of the suction force. The commander, her crew, and the entire squadron were left in a state of turmoil, both physically from the swirling trap they had yet to escape, and mentally from the realization of their failure.
As the ships gradually regained control, pulling out of the uncontrollable spin, the commander faced her crew, her expression one of resolve amidst the setback.
"This isn't the end," she said, her voice a beacon of determination in the darkness.
"I'll get you Gustav Crimson."
Far removed from the tumultuous scene of the fleet caught in a trap, and in a secluded part of space that remained untouched by the chaos, stood a being before an advanced device.
The device, an intricate array of pulsing lights and swirling energy cores, was responsible for projecting the colossal hologram of Gustav that had deceived the alliance fleet.
The being, while humanoid in appearance, was distinctly non-human, its skin shimmering with an ethereal glow that suggested a nature far beyond the ordinary.
As the projection faded away, the being stepped back from the device, turning to face the crew that manned the hidden outpost. They, like their companion, were of various shapes and sizes, each bearing unique traits that marked them as members of different species, united under a common cause.
"We've done it," the being announced, its voice carrying a mix of relief and triumph.