Super God Academy: Kabuto

Merlo, the central repository of sacred knowledge. Keisha stood alone before the starlight curtain flowing with endless data and the memories of civilizations. Her fingertips lightly touched the "spots of light" representing angels of different eras and identities. Some of these spots were bright and active, representing active angelic warriors, responding to her call and gathering in the Heavenly City from all corners of the universe. Other spots, however, were slightly dimmer, quietly flickering at the edges of the star map or at specific coordinates—those were retired angels.

In the long lives of angels, not all warriors serve on the front lines forever. Some are veterans who have experienced too many battles and are exhausted in body and mind; some choose to retire due to injury or a change in ideology; some are scholar-angels who need to focus on specific fields (such as in-depth scientific research, inter-civilizational diplomacy, and the protection of ancient ruins) for a long time... They are scattered in every corner of the known universe, continuing their lives in their own way, and some even live in anonymity, integrating into other civilizations.

But now, facing the potential all-consuming Void Crisis, Keisha decides to unleash this pent-up power. This is not a forced conscription, but a king's summons and a call to faith.

Her will, channeled through the special frequency of the sacred treasury of knowledge, transformed into calm yet resolute streams of information that flowed directly into the depths of the souls of those retired angels. The messages contained no detailed descriptions of the terrors of the void, no threats of war, only Keisha's familiar and reassuring voice, and a few brief but weighty words:

"A crisis is imminent, and Heavenly City needs every bit of strength. If your faith remains, if you are still willing to fight for what you cherish, return home, sisters. Location: Heavenly Court of Merlo. — Keisha"

There was no further explanation, nor was it necessary. For these veterans who had sworn allegiance and followed her in battles for millennia, the personal summons of "Queen Keisha" and the words "Heavenly City needs" carried a weight that transcended all other reasons.

On the star map, those dormant points of light began to brighten one by one, like sparks being rekindled. Some points of light trembled slightly, as if experiencing inner turmoil; some began to move without hesitation, heading towards the direction of the Celestial Court of Merlo; and others, after a long silence, slowly increased in brightness, with a hesitant yet firm response.

Keisha gazed at the stars that had been relit, her silver eyes reflecting a myriad of lights. She knew that many among them might have long been accustomed to tranquility, carried old wounds in their bodies and minds, or held different understandings of "justice." But she also believed that when the trumpet truly sounded, the oath of protection and sisterhood flowing in the blood of angels would ultimately guide them back.

The towering tree of Angelic Civilization not only needs new branches to reach for the sun, but also needs old roots buried deep in the soil to provide the most resilient support in the storm.

On Devil One, in stark contrast to the solemn and efficient atmosphere of preparation in the Heavenly Court of Merlo, there was a strange atmosphere permeated with a sense of oppression, manic frenzy born of being fooled, and cold calculation.

Morgana no longer cursed or paced furiously as before. She sat on her flamboyant throne in an almost frozen posture, the scarlet wine still in the glass, reflecting her eyes burning with dark flames.

Several light screens floated in front of her, displaying intelligence summaries from different sources that had been repeatedly verified:

"The spatial fluctuations in the Heavenly Court of Merlo are abnormal, and signs of a large-scale fleet gathering have been confirmed."

"High-energy jump reactions have been detected at multiple known locations where retired angels have been hiding, and the target is the Heavenly Court of Merlo."

"The internal communication encryption level of the Angel Civilization has been raised to 'Ragnarok' level, and some non-military communication channels with the outside world have been temporarily closed."

"The fluctuations of Keisha's sacred code continue to emanate steadily in the Merlo Heavenly Court area, with its intensity and characteristics matching historical records by more than 99.9%."

Every message was like a cold needle, piercing her last shred of hope that "Keisha is dead," and completely confirming that Karl, that "bitch," had been treating her, and perhaps all the known forces in the universe, as pawns on his insane experimental chessboard from beginning to end!

"Heh heh... Hahahaha..." Morgana suddenly let out a low, self-mocking, and endlessly cold laugh, breaking the deathly silence of the royal court. She downed the wine in her glass in one gulp, then smashed the crystal glass hard on the smooth ground beneath her feet, making a crisp, ear-piercing sound as it shattered.

"Karl...Karl!!" Her voice was no longer high-pitched, but like ice shards squeezed from between her teeth, filled with deep-seated hatred and contempt. "You unreliable bastard! You spout 'ultimate fear' and 'void truth' all you want, packaging yourself as a transcendent scholar, an all-knowing prophet... and what's the result? You can't even figure out if Keisha is dead or alive?! And you were outmaneuvered, your plans were used against you for tens of thousands of years?!"

She stood up, her black wings slowly unfurling in the shadows behind her, each step carrying suppressed rage: "What cooperation, what leading a new era... I think you're just a pathetic kid who's been fooled by your own imagined 'truths'! A complete and utter bookworm, a madwoman living in her own delusional world! I almost believed your nonsense!"

The demon warriors on Devil One, including Ator, were trembling with fear. They could feel the Queen's almost tangible rage, but deeper down, they felt a profound sense of shame at being utterly fooled and made a laughingstock, as well as unprecedented pressure from Keisha's "resurrection" and the full mobilization of the angelic civilization.

Just then, Du Qiangwei, who had been standing quietly in the shadows at the edge of the royal court, suddenly spoke softly, breaking the silence that had been filled only with Morgana's angry curses:

"She...is, after all, your sister."

The sound was very soft, yet it was like a drop of water thrown into a boiling oil pan, instantly making the atmosphere in the entire royal court even more eerie.

Morgana turned her head sharply, her scarlet eyes fixed on Rose. Her gaze held astonishment, anger at being touched, and a fleeting, complex emotion that she herself was unwilling to admit.

"Sister?" Morgana's voice suddenly rose, filled with sarcasm. "The one who defined me as 'evil,' hunted me down for tens of thousands of years, wishing she could tear me to pieces and nail me to the pillar of shame? The one who watched angels and demons bleed to death, yet never lowered her proud head—the 'Queen of Gods'? Rose, have you been hanging out with angels for too long? Has your brain been corrupted by their 'justice'?!"

Rose neither flinched nor became agitated. She met Morgana's gaze, her eyes clear and calm, as if stating a simple fact: "Regardless, you are connected by blood. You grew up together, studied together, and perhaps... even shared a common ideal. Now, the Void is everyone's common enemy; even Keisha needs to recall all the retired angels to deal with it. No matter how strong Demon One is, can it face that unknown threat alone?"

She paused, her gaze sweeping over the silent demon warriors around her: "Or would you rather watch the demon legion, along with the warriors of that 'bitch' sister you mentioned, be devoured by some unknown void creature, than consider... other possibilities?"

Rose's words, like a blunt knife, slowly sliced ​​through Morgana's hard shell of anger and paranoia, touching something deeper. The royal court fell into a longer, suffocating silence.

Ato gripped the Command Sword tightly, his gaze lowered. The other demon warriors' eyes flickered, unease and confusion growing within them. They were not afraid of battle, not afraid of death, and even enjoyed pursuing "freedom" amidst the chaos. But faced with an unknown threat that could completely overturn their understanding and devour everything, the fear stemming from their very survival instinct could not be masked by fanaticism.

Morgana stared intently at Rose, her chest heaving slightly. After a long while, she slowly sat back on her throne, all the intense emotions on her face receding like the tide, leaving only an extreme, icy calm. But beneath that calm lay an abyss more terrifying than any roar.

"Other possibilities?" she murmured repeatedly, a smileless curve forming at the corner of her lips. "Rose, you're still too naive. Some cracks, once formed, can never be healed. Some paths, once embarked upon, offer no turning back."

She didn't look at the roses again, nor at anyone else, but instead cast her gaze upon the simulated, artificial starry sky outside the royal court, her voice so soft it was almost a soliloquy:

"Order Demon One to enter 'absolute silence' mode. Shut down all non-essential energy output and activate the deepest spatial camouflage and information concealment. Without my direct command, no demon is to leave, contact the outside world, or... take any action."

"As for Keisha, Karl, the Void..." A resolute and dangerous glint flashed in Morgana's eyes, "Let them fight to the death first. Demons... have their own way of surviving."

With the order given, the massive war fortress, Demon One, seemed to sink to the deepest seabed, completely silencing all sound and light, entering a state of near-hibernation. Morgana, on the throne, became like a cold statue, only her dark-painted fingertips, constantly tapping the armrests, revealing the turbulent emotions and difficult choices churning within her.

Rose stood there, gazing at Morgana's cold profile, then at the suppressed, silent demon warriors around her, and sighed softly. She knew that some knots in one's heart could not be easily untied by an external crisis. But the seed had already been planted; whether it would take root and sprout under the pressure of dire circumstances, or rot completely, only time would tell.