The Bloodline System

Chapter 1663: The Last Resistance

The next time it happened while Angy was helping the children plant luminous seeds.

Everything froze.

Colors drained.

The Hidden Star dissolved into a swirl of fractured memories.

She saw:

A golden chain breaking

A dark sphere throbbing like a heartbeat

A pair of very familiar eyes looking at her

And a path of light, endlessly looping

Then a whisper:

”Itʼs left to you now...”

She gasped as she snapped back.

”Miss Angy? You okay?” a kid asked.

”Mm. Just tired,” she lied.

--

As time went by, the tension in the meetings was ugly.

E.E. and Alero nearly came to blows.

Falco stormed out when someone suggested creating a new Mixedblood supersoldier regiment.

Yonda refused to speak to anyone for hours after an alien representative blamed humans for the universeʼs downfall.

At some point someone muttered:

”Gustav should have stayed—he shouldnʼt have left us like this.”

And the room descended into bitter, painful silence.

Angy clenched her fists under the table as her mind swam back to the array of visions.

But she said nothing.

...

On another day, she woke up gasping with her hand glowing faintly, like something inside her had responded to a call from beyond.

The vision was clearer:

A cracked humanoid statue...

A chain forged from universes....

Gustav reaching for something behind a veil of light...

Time reversing…

and reversing…

and reversing…

But she still didnʼt fully understand these visions.

She needed clarity.

...

...

The darkened cosmos trembled.

Where once the universe vibrated with the gentleness of life, now only the echoes of destruction reverberated across dying constellations. Entire sectors of space were nothing more than hollowed shells... planets stripped to skeletal fragments, suns devoured, civilizations erased with divine indifference.

Yet within the ruins, a faint ember still struggled to glow.

The Last Resistance which was a coalition formed from dozens of shattered star systems, drifted silently through the void aboard the gargantuan ark-ship Sanctum Vanguard. It was their final stronghold, forged from the remains of three fallen worlds, armored with desperate ingenuity rather than hope.

Inside its central chamber, hundreds of leaders, mixedbloods, psionics, technomancers, alien tribes, and former intergalactic guardians gathered around a blazing hologram of the universe or what was left of it. Whole regions were darkened, marked as Deity Dominions, territory where survival was impossible.

A collective hush spread as Commander Vespera Rael, the only being to ever come face to face with deity and escape, stepped forward.

Her once-silver hair was streaked with soot, her armor cracked and patched with alien tech. Her right arm was mechanized and her eyes looked haunted.

”We all know why we are here,” her voice echoed. ”We can no longer run. We have only one option left: strike.”

Murmurs erupted.

”Thatʼs suicide—”

”They erased the Kʼthar Dominion in seconds—”

”Our weapons donʼt even scratch them—”

Vespera slammed a gauntleted fist onto the holotable, sending ripples through the projection.

”It doesnʼt matter. If we flee, we die. If we hide, we die. If we wait…”

She inhaled with cracked voice.

”…we are the universe last hope.”

From the corner, a much younger mixeblood eyes were hardened, but his fists trembled at his sides.

He spoke without looking up.

”We fight.”

Other Mixedbloods who had also survived all this time, looked up but they were weakened, tired, and nowhere near the strength they would one day have. They had survived only because they kept moving, endlessly fleeing as world after world fell.

Maro exhaled softly. ”Then we die together.”

Another lifted his gaze from the floor.

”Better to die fighting than die begging.”

The room filled with grim, resigned nods.

Across the table, a tall alien figure with fractured and dim crystallized body stepped closer. Elder Zhor of the Luminaris, last of his kind.

”We must target the source,” his voice was like shattered glass. ”The Overseer. If the Overseer falls, the rest might destabilize.”

”Might,” another repeated bitterly. ”We donʼt even know if thatʼs true.”

Vespera answered, ”We have no choice but to believe it.”

With that, the plan solidified.

The Last Resistance would mount a single, all-or-nothing assault on the deitiesʼ celestial. Their goal: reach the Overseer, strike with everything they had, and pray something—anything—would matter.

---

Warships lined up in formation behind the Sanctum Vanguard.

Over two hundred vessels.

The last two hundred vessels left in the universe.

Gravity cannons charged. Photon lances aligned. Etheric blades activated. Psionic amplifiers hummed. This pitiful armada, compared to the deitiesʼ cosmic scale, was like ants preparing to bite a mountain.

Yet their hearts pounded as one.

Vespera stood on the command deck, overlooking the fleet.

”Transmit my message,” she ordered.

”Broadcasting across remaining channels,” replied a pale-skinned comms officer.

Vespera inhaled.

”To anyone who still breathes… know that today, we choose not despair, but defiance. If this is our last stand… let it shake the heavens.”

As the fleet approached, they saw it—

A colossal crystalline palace suspended in the void, larger than galaxies, layered with shifting geometries. Veins of light pulsed through it like arteries of a living god.

And standing guard were the deities.

Hundreds of them.

Each giant was radiant and monstrous, exuding power that warped space itself. Their gazes alone bent reality. Their presence crushed mortal sanity.

And at the heart of them, towering above all was the Overseer.

A cosmic colossus, a deity whose authority commanded all existence. His eyes were stars; his breath birthed storms. His aura alone crippled the fleetʼs shields.

Yet the Vanguard pressed forward while the deities watched their approach in amusement.

”FIRE!” Vespera roared.

The universe ignited.

Every last ship unleashed volleys of unimaginable scale. Planet-shattering cannons, fusion warheads, antimatter bursts, reality disruptors crafted from stolen deity fragments.

The explosion lit up the cosmos like a newborn sun.

The front ranks of deities staggered and one or two had holes burrowed into them.

”WE CAN DO THIS!” someone screamed through the coms.

But the Overseer hadnʼt even moved despite their assault.

He just kept watching like many other deities who kept taking the hits without countering.