"Earth?"The two words spoken by the AI struck Lu Yuan like a hammer, leaving him reeling and questioning reality once more.Lu Yuan fell silent, scrutinizing the star map and planetary data on the terminal screen carefully. He rubbed his eyes before asking in a strained voice, "Say that again. Where are we?""Earth. Designation: M34-4602151-B."Lu Yuan looked up and, after a long silence, muttered one word."Damn."In the pitch-black deployment base, only the terminal's screen emitted a faint blue glow, reminiscent of the color of that long-lost planet from ancient textbooks. It bathed Lu Yuan's face in a lifeless grey-blue hue.He didn't need to ask the AI to know the distance from Earth to Stellar Divine was around 1,400 light-years—a staggering 1,400 light-years! Even a battleship couldn't traverse that vast expanse. Neither the artificial beacons established by the Stellar Alliance nor any of the recently deciphered ancient markers could provide a route back to Stellar Divine. After all, when the Alliance fleet left Earth, there had never been any intent to return.The war that was supposed to end all wars had become the war to start all wars, casting humanity, with all its free will, into an exodus from which there was no return.Even entry-level academies required the study of the Fall Wars in their curriculum. Understanding the migration that sacrificed nearly all free-willed humans was a duty of every modern Alliance citizen. It all began with this planet designated M34-4602151-B, this planet with a singular name—a name both eternally to be remembered and eternally to be forgotten.Earth.Lu Yuan stared at the image of Earth orbiting its yellow dwarf star on the screen, his eyes unblinking. Even the AI could sense the turmoil within him. White static began to flicker across the terminal screen, clouding the star map until it finally stabilized.A wave of weariness settled between Lu Yuan's brows. Perhaps it was just the aftermath of his hibernation, or maybe it was simply exhaustion from disbelief. "Is there any chance of repairing the Xiyun?" he asked."Damage assessment categorizes the ship as 'heavily damaged.' Without a dedicated repair vessel or towing back to the home port, current materials and tools are insufficient to meet the minimum flight standards.""Heh."Lu Yuan let out a bitter laugh. The question was meaningless— even if the Xiyun were fully intact, an unprepared beacon jump was a gamble with everything on the line. Time would be the least of his worries; out here in the void, life had little value.A familiar ache throbbed in his head as memories of the brutal ambush at Eagle Valley surfaced, of the Coronal disintegrating into pieces. Each memory felt like it tore another thread from his heart. Being left stranded on a desolate planet labeled "ancestral home" was worse than simply dying in space.As his mind dimmed momentarily, fragmented images surfaced—of Zhang Yueyang pounding on his cryo-chamber cover, screaming his name. A hint of resentment rose in his heart. That damned old buddy—why did he have to drag Lu Yuan, someone who should have died countless times, from one frying pan only to throw him into another? Why not let him just vanish into oblivion with the ship's explosion? For a soldier, a paratrooper, there could be no finer end.End…The word echoed in Lu Yuan's mind. End—what kind of end? Lu Yuan no longer wanted to dwell on the comrades who had died on planets where not even single-celled life existed. If fate insisted on keeping him, Lu Yuan, alive, then he would bear the hope of everyone who couldn't make it. The 28th Paratrooper Battalion, the Xiyun, the Coronal, the entire fleet—it could all fall to Earth. At least he had fulfilled a longing passed down for generations."Activate the Xiyun's external sensors, scan the surrounding environment, and check for any signs of life," Lu Yuan commanded. But the AI promptly refused, stating that the operation required manual confirmation, meaning Lu Yuan would need to go to the bridge.The door to the bridge opened just a crack. Lu Yuan saluted the fallen sailors inside the base before stepping into the deeper darkness.A frigate is less than a thousand meters long, and Lu Yuan was already amidships, so reaching the bridge wouldn't take much time. The Xiyun, a standard frigate, was built for rapid assault and hull resilience. Though classified as "heavily damaged" by the AI, its interior remained relatively intact, with corridors above the keel still largely in one piece.As he exited the deployment base, Lu Yuan wove his way through, the air becoming staler with each turn. He took an oxygen mask from a nearby skeletonized sailor's skull and located emergency air plugs along the way. Occasionally, he held his breath to the point of near desperation before reaching another air plug with some reserves.He passed through several cryo chambers, unlocking dozens of fully armored sleeping sailors. Not a single one awoke. Lu Yuan sighed, unable to imagine how intense the firepower must have been during the beacon jump to leave so few survivors.Crossing a fragile bridge, the piercing golden light leaked through trembling armor plates. Ignoring the AI's warnings, Lu Yuan took off his mask and drew a deep breath of Earth's air.Dust, indifference, not a hint of sweetness.He replaced his mask, turned a corner, and entered the cramped Xiyun command bridge. This circular gravity pod had broken free and slumped into a recess, with the 360-degree holo-screens curling like tattered paper. The captain's chair had embedded itself into the floor. All bridge personnel remained strapped in place, refusing to abandon their posts, even at the cost of suffocation.Lu Yuan saluted, careful not to disturb the sailors' remains, but when he touched the captain—a steadfast officer with one hand on the command console and the other on his sword—the man crumbled into dust.With tears in his eyes, Lu Yuan brushed away the ashes from the console and pressed the external activation key. A faint electric current surged, awakening the Xiyun's systems, filling the bridge with a rare light. Dust danced in the soft breeze, as if breathing new life into the still figures.Lu Yuan sat down on the bridge steps, clutching his disheveled hair, unwilling to speak. Outside, the equipment rumbled back to life, and the AI chirped cheerfully, like a hamster in a grain store. He had to call several times before it finally responded."The surface environment is suitable for survival under low protection levels, hah."Lu Yuan murmured, chuckling bitterly. Earth was just as his early-grade textbooks described: "The planet of heroes, with ancestors who were resilient, unwavering, and unyielding."The external environmental scan ended within minutes. As Lu Yuan tended to the captain's ashes, he ordered without looking up, "Continue. Refine the data as much as possible.""Under Fleet Law, Article 9, Section 2, all critical logs, including the ship's logs, captain's logs, and combat logs, must be prioritized for backup. For compliance, you must accept the data chip implant before consuming remaining resources."Annoyed, Lu Yuan shot to his feet. "According to the Third Law of AI, you're not allowed to disobey any reasonable order of mine!"The AI, unsurprisingly calm, repeated its preloaded response, "You serve the Stellar Alliance. Fleet Law is paramount."Serve the Alliance. Lu Yuan had heard this phrase countless times, a responsibility and obligation ingrained in every soldier. Whether officer or private, this phrase meant no retreat or excuse.The med bay wasn't far from the bridge. Lu Yuan settled into a surgical chair as the vast archives of the Xiyun were condensed into a chip no bigger than a fingernail. The chip gun stabbed his neck, fusing with his nerves.The sharp pain turned his face pale. An entire warship's worth of data was transferring into his mind. "How much of the chip can I actually use?" he asked, his voice strained."In accordance with Fleet Law…""Spare me the details!""Considered a command-grade military chip, with your rank automatically promoted to major, granting you corresponding access," the AI replied.As Lu Yuan registered his new rank, the AI continued, "Per Fleet Law, the chip's remaining functions will enter a standby state upon the completion of escape instructions, awaiting reactivation."Dumbfounded, Lu Yuan realized he was little more than a glorified data vessel. "Then let's finish the escape instructions as quickly as possible. By the way, are you backed up on the chip?""As this ship's sole AI, I have been backed up and will be able to respond to your queries once sufficient bioelectricity is available."Almost anticipating his frustration, the chip gun surged in power, jolting Lu Yuan. The AI's voice echoed inside his mind, reciting Fleet Law, forcing him to keep his mouth shut and focus on following its instructions."Do you have a name?" With the AI practically residing in his head, Lu Yuan thought it best to build some rapport, given that ship AIs were technically capable of simulating personalities, though restricted by military requirements."Registration number: YKC-m110.""Heh. With you around, nothing but trouble seems to happen. I'll just call you Murphy."