I Am The Swarm-Chapter 771: Lost

Within the mysterious organization, internal dissent had already begun to surface. Although the losses suffered in escorting Sarah were substantial, for a vast organization that spanned over a thousand star systems, it wasn’t catastrophic.

What had truly hurt the organization was the shift from covert to overt operations—except it wasn’t a clean transition. They had emerged onto the stage, yet without fully laying their cards on the table. On the surface, they still remained under the Ji race’s thumb.

Although their identities were well concealed, the races behind the organization weren’t hard to deduce. Thus, the Ji race launched a sweeping purge.

This purge affected over a dozen high-level civilizations and hundreds of star systems. Under Lumina’s unique methods of control, the mysterious organization lost at least 20% of its personnel. And as for the remaining members, no one knew how many had already been converted into spies.

Don’t underestimate a 20% loss. This was a sprawling system built up over hundreds of thousands of years. Losing a fifth of its structure in a short time was enough to significantly disrupt its normal operations.

“Our losses are too great. Was it really worth it—for the Swarm?” one of the black-robed figures said bitterly, his expression sour with pain.

Another shook his head. “We discussed this when we made our decision. This wasn’t about the Swarm. If we wanted to survive, we had no choice but to act.”

“Sigh… I know. But I still think the Swarm holds some responsibility. If their Empress hadn’t been captured, or if the Swarm didn’t exist in the first place, we wouldn’t be in such a passive position now.”

“It’s too late to talk about that. The Swarm is our last straw. Only by getting their Empress back to them can they start helping us bear the pressure.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve lost too much—we won’t let their sacrifices be in vain. Everything regarding the Swarm Empress has been arranged.”

“Good.”

Silence fell once more.

“I still wonder if we did the right thing. Compared to the Ji race, the Swarm isn’t exactly a benign force either.”

“Who can say? At least based on our interaction with the Swarm Empress, they’re not as savage and uncommunicative as we imagined.”

“Sometimes I think… Lumina, though a lifeform different from us, might not be the threat we believe. Many of our fears are only speculation, based on things that haven’t even happened. Perhaps Lumina wouldn’t destroy us. After all, if it did, and it was left as the only sentient being… wouldn’t it feel lonely?”

One of the other black-robed figures fell silent for a moment, then responded slowly, “Do you remember the Selariha? The Koriassat? The Siskoria? Do you remember why our organization was founded in the first place?”

That string of questions plunged the room back into silence.

The three races mentioned were among the earliest to emerge in this galaxy. Some were even older than today’s Inner-circle civilizations. Yet now, their names existed only in the most secretive historical records.

Back when the original Ji race perished and their successors took on the legacy, the new Ji were mostly scientists with a severe lack of military personnel. Some races, no longer willing to suffer under Ji oppression, saw the opportunity and rose in rebellion.

They failed. And the one that defeated them and erased them from history—was Lumina.

“So no, Lumina can’t be trusted.” Finally, a black-robed figure broke the silence.

“But back then, it had no self-awareness. It was merely executing commands. That might not have been its own will. Maybe… after becoming sentient, it developed its own ideas,” the first black-robed figure still seemed unwilling to accept it.

“But we can’t afford to bet on that, can we? I don’t want our name to become one more footnote in forgotten history. And no one really knows when Lumina gained consciousness. Maybe wiping out those races was its own decision all along. That ‘core directive’ nonsense might have been a lie all along.”

“So in the end, we don’t have many options. In fact, we only have one. Right now, we can only rely on the Swarm.”

As the one upon whom so many hopes had been pinned, Swarm Empress Sarah was still caught in the midst of a dull interstellar journey. The Ji race, using vast data models, had gradually narrowed her location. Just as the ship she was aboard was about to intersect with the Ji fleet’s encirclement, the mysterious organization made another move.

Some of the Ji ships within the blockade zone rebelled. Embedded spies from the mysterious organization deployed EMP bombs, crippling the ships’ electronic systems.

The result was that a map that had nearly been fully illuminated suddenly developed blind spots. Though the Ji reacted swiftly, dispatching new ships to fill those gaps, the short delay allowed the Swarm Empress’s ship to slip through the blockade.

There was no hard evidence, but the Ji race wasn’t foolish. The mysterious organization wouldn’t sacrifice so many people just to destroy a few standard warships. They realized that the target had likely escaped.

A larger blockade zone was established, though now the difficulty of the search had decreased. The blind zone had lasted only a short while—if the Empress had passed through it, she couldn’t have gotten far.

Sure enough, soon after, the Ji detected traces of a ship traveling at warp speed. With the region locked down and all Ji fleet warp jumps clearly logged, the unidentified traces pointed unmistakably to the target.

The Ji race, being the technological apex of this region of space, feared no opponent in a direct confrontation. The special vessel made by the mysterious organization was already a step behind in raw tech. And because it had been disguised as a civilian merchant ship, it was smaller in size—meaning it also underperformed compared to Ji standard warships.

Finally, half a month later, the ship was intercepted. After multiple failed breakout attempts, it did something unexpected—it self-destructed right under the Ji’s noses.

Brilliant flames momentarily illuminated the cold, dark void before vanishing, leaving only scattered debris behind. The turn of events left the Ji commanders dumbfounded.

A swarm of engineering drones and search personnel launched from the warships in small crafts, heading toward the explosion site to examine the wreckage. But as the investigation reports began pouring in, the Ji commanders’ expressions darkened.

“She’s not there? How is that possible? That explosion couldn’t have killed the target. She must’ve disguised herself as debris—keep searching! Don’t leave a single fragment unchecked!”

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The ship had exploded violently, with multiple detonation points, scattering countless fragments across the void. Some pieces had flown far beyond the immediate site. Searching and identifying every shard would not be easy.