448: Crisis on the way back

It was false to say he wasn't shocked. Oliver himself had just received news from the Military Department: apart from a First-Class military merit medal and a sum of military merit, there was nothing else.

After all, he was already a General Officer; medals were more a symbol of honor, and the subsequent priority for promotion, though valuable, was far less impactful than Li Yang's “meteoric rise.”

Li Yang looked down at the brand new markings on his epaulets, a ripple passing through his eyes.

This battle had been difficult, but it had also made him truly realize that every effort would be rewarded.

“Congratulations to us both.”

He looked up at Oliver, a faint but genuine smile playing on his lips.

Oliver laughed heartily.

“Come on, we need to find a place to celebrate properly!”

Under Oliver's enthusiastic invitation, Li Yang found it hard to refuse... The next morning, the Command Room of the starship had returned to its usual order.

Li Yang, refreshed after a short rest, bid farewell to Oliver on the bridge. Oliver needed to stay behind to handle subsequent Galaxy matters, while Li Yang led his troops on the return journey.

“Bon voyage.”

Oliver saluted, his gaze filled with the mutual appreciation of comrades-in-arms.

“Until we meet again.”

Li Yang returned the salute, then turned and walked into the passage of his starship.

As soon as he returned to the command post, He Dong approached with an electronic report, his voice solemn.

“Division Commander Li, this is the summary of personnel and equipment damage from this operation.”

Li Yang took the report, his fingertips slowly sliding across the optical screen, his expression gradually becoming grave.

Although the Imperial forces maintained an overwhelming advantage in combat power throughout the battle, several months of high-intensity clearing operations ultimately failed to completely avoid casualties—the report showed that the troops sustained a cumulative total of over ten injuries, with two Soldiers dying on the spot due to battle armor damage, which allowed corrosive infections to penetrate the armor.

“The pensions for the fallen Soldiers' families must be implemented according to the highest standards, and their subsequent living security must also be closely monitored, with absolutely no room for error.”

Li Yang's voice was low and firm, his fingertips lingering briefly on those two names.

“Yes, Commander!”

He Dong stood at attention and responded, recording the order.

Li Yang put down the report, gazing at the streaking star-flow outside the viewport, and sighed softly.

There were always casualties in battle; keeping losses within this range was already extremely fortunate.

If it had been one of those head-on, drawn-out battles during frontier expansion, the casualties for this unit would likely have been in the tens of thousands.

“Notify the medical department to take good care of our injured comrades and ensure their speedy recovery.”

He added through the communicator.

Behind this victory, some people would forever remain in that Galaxy.

The starship's return journey was initially calm, with the instrument indicator lights in the Command Room blinking rhythmically. Suddenly, a piercing alarm shattered the silence.

“Warning! Warning! High-intensity spatial turbulence detected, spatial tunnel structure undergoing irreversible collapse!”

On the main control screen, the green curve representing tunnel stability plummeted abruptly, instantly erupting into a large area of blinding red warnings.

The spatial tunnel wall, once as smooth as a mirror, began to twist violently, like paper crumpled by an invisible giant hand. Streaks of dark purple energy fissures exploded outside the cabin, tearing apart large swaths of space.

“Quick! Raise all defensive shields! Maximum power!”

Li Yang slammed his hand on the control panel, his knuckles white from the force.

The holographic star map before him was completely chaotic, with the light points representing each ship's position wildly fluctuating.

“Shields fully deployed!”

The urgent responses from each starship captain came through the communicator.

The next second, dozens of pale blue energy barriers unfolded outside the starships. These shields, which had once withstood Galaxy-level explosions, now appeared incredibly fragile in the violent spatial turbulence.

The turbulence, like a swinging iron rod, easily left web-like cracks on the shields. The shields of several Guard starships even shattered with a crackle upon contact, and their hull exteriors were immediately gnawed into charred dents and incomplete sections by the turbulence.

“No! The tunnel is collapsing, the designated jump coordinates are invalid!”

A General Officer's voice was laced with panic, and the coordinate parameters on the optical screen turned into garbled code.

“If this continues, we will be completely swallowed by the spatial turbulence and vanish into nothingness, just like this space!”

Li Yang stared intently at the continuously shrinking tunnel cross-section, cold sweat dripping down his jaw.

“All units, listen to my command!”

He took a deep breath, his voice strangely calm amidst the alarm.

“Immediately activate the ‘Boundary Break’ contingency plan! With the flagship as the core, simultaneously open an emergency spatial rift! Lock coordinates to the nearest safe star system, expanding the allowable error range to three astronomical units!”

The moment the red button for the “Boundary Break” plan was pressed, the energy core at the flagship's bow emitted a dazzling white light. The cores of the surrounding starships resonated with it, and distorted spatial ripples surged outwards from the fleet's center.

At the collision point between the turbulence and the energy field of the new rift, the air seemed to ignite, emitting a deafening roar.

He knew very well that forcibly opening a new spatial rift within an already collapsed spatial tunnel was akin to lighting a match in a powder keg about to explode—the mutual tearing of spatial tension could very likely trigger a chain collapse, instantly tearing the entire fleet into fundamental particles.

But at this point, it was a desperate situation.

Li Yang gripped the violently shaking control panel, watching the vortex representing the rift on the optical screen struggle to maintain its shape amidst the turbulence, his fingernails almost digging into his palms.

This was a gamble with the laws of space: win, and escape to safety; lose, and be doomed forever.

Li Yang knew better than anyone how dangerous this temporarily torn spatial rift was.

Unlike a conventional tunnel, it lacked stable energy barriers; the energy flow at its edges was like frantically dancing venomous snakes, sometimes contracting into a needle-point singularity, sometimes surging into an all-consuming vortex. A single glance revealed it to be a “festering sore” that could collapse at any moment.

But to stay put? The surrounding spatial tunnel was collapsing at a visible rate, the pale blue shields emitted a buzzing wail under the turbulence's impact, and the hulls of several Guard starships already showed web-like cracks. If they delayed any longer, everyone would turn into cosmic dust along with this space.

“There's no turning back!”

Li Yang's voice, resolute and unquestioning, echoed through the communicators to all starships.

“All units, calibrate your courses! Flagship leads, enter the rift in a staggered formation! Overload energy cores, hold the shields!”

There was a brief silence in the communication channel, as all starship Commanders were clearly making their final deliberations.

But as their gazes swept over the rapidly approaching dark collapse zone outside the viewport, and the scale-like tilting survival probability data on the control panel, all hesitation transformed into a desperate resolve.

“Received! First echelon preparing to enter!”

“Second echelon following suit, shields overloaded!”

Responses rose and fell, laced with suppressed tremors, yet without a hint of hesitation.

Li Yang took a deep breath, and the starship's energy engines erupted in dazzling orange light, like the last struggle of a dying beast, forcefully tearing open a path through the violent turbulence and plunging first into the unstable spatial rift.

The starships that followed, as if pulled by invisible threads, rushed into the rift one after another.

Inside the rift, it was even more chaotic. The gravitational field fluctuated wildly; some starship hulls were stretched into noodle-like shapes, others compressed into iron discs. The control panel's alarms blared in a continuous stream, and the pointers on the dashboard flickered madly, as if they could break at any moment.

Li Yang stared intently at the timer, each second feeling stretched a hundredfold, cold sweat soaking his military uniform.

Just as the tail of the last Guard starship vanished into the rift... the original spatial tunnel had completely twisted and collapsed. If the fleet had remained there at that moment, it would have disappeared into the universe, just like that space.