Marvel Magic Case Files

Chapter 1571 The Lunar War (83)

Black Bolt doesn't know who he can trust anymore.

The Locktooth dog is one of them, after all, it was his pet and companion, and one of the most trusted members of the Attilan royal family.

Perhaps there's also Gordon from the Inhumans' settlement on Earth, whose body burns with a thirst for revenge squeezed from his very bones. If the King of Attilan decides to fight against humanity, Gordon will offer his loyalty. After all, not everyone has the resolve to risk everything and squeeze into the cramped survival pod in orbit, enduring the ever-approaching hunger, suffocation, and cold, all for the sake of seeking the almost mythical Attilan.

Perhaps Crystal could be considered an exception; she had nothing to do with any of the power held by the royal family. She was so innocent and adorable that no one wanted to tell her the worst side of the world. Let her continue to believe that the world was made of candy, let her continue to believe that products would grow out of the shelves—a naive, almost foolish, little princess was in everyone's best interest.

While the courts of the Ghost Clan, Centaur Clan, and Rogue Clan might be trustworthy, they have never revealed the true state of the Lower Production Deck, possibly because they assume the Attilan royal family knows the truth and that Black Bolt is aware of the relationship between the Upper and Lower Deck. As part of a political compromise, the Bird Clan, which possesses the Faster-than-Light Engine, has never been involved in the Lower Production Deck's work, relying instead on supplies from other clans. Therefore, the Bird Clan's ambassador to the Gene Council is also trustworthy.

As for the captain of the Royal Guard, Black Bolt temporarily added him to his list of trusted members. He didn't want to pursue anything at the moment, because this united interest group likely existed from the very beginning of the royal family. Regardless of the vision of the King of Attilan who once unified Starfortress, the deadly poison of power, once ingested, would continuously corrupt his descendants. The royal family lacked any self-purification ability; this poison expanded over time with the increasing collusion of interests. Unprincipled peace led to the decay of the system, and almost all members of the royal family considered their own interests above those of the royal family and even the Inhumans. They advocated sealing off weapons and prohibiting military training to demonstrate the powerful individual strength brought by the abundant mutant material of the Attilan royal family, to the point that the Attilan royal family could not even organize a well-trained army capable of resisting invaders.

Black Bolt made a gesture. The captain of the royal guard stepped forward, picked up his weapon, and summoned his guards, who, under Black Bolt's gaze, surrounded the Attilan royals present who were not holding official positions. "You should go to prison to await trial, but I don't have time for you now. You should take your weapons and go to the front lines to cleanse yourselves of your mistakes with your lives." Black Bolt's stern gaze swept over everyone present. "Or perhaps you choose to face my judgment directly."

Almost all those arrested chose the former.

Taking up arms and going to war might offer a chance of survival, but a trial could very well result in immediate execution. No one could oppose Black Bolt, for he was the most powerful being present. Black Bolt painfully realized that no matter how much he loathed these people, he couldn't deny that his parents, and even himself, were among them. His very existence stemmed from this self-serving ideology; he was the most powerful superhuman ever created by the Attilan royal family using their privileges, the ultimate embodiment of Attilan's privilege, knowledge, and wealth. At this moment, his judgment appeared to others not as concern for the poor on the lower decks of production, but as a king reclaiming power in anger at being misled.

Black Bolt closed his eyes, filled with sorrow.

Perhaps the enemy understands us better?

Once the idea popped into my head, it took root and sprouted uncontrollably.

Black Bolt chuckled self-deprecatingly at his own sentimentality. He had only met the human king once; how could such a long-standing friendship have blossomed? Moreover, the human king wanted to kill the vast majority of Inhumans whose genetic mutations were far removed from humanity, making their fundamental conflict irreconcilable. Even so, Black Bolt couldn't help but recall their conversation, where their shared commitment to their respective races allowed them to understand each other. The only pity was that the Inhumans and humans would inevitably engage in a zero-sum game when facing alien invaders, and neither could bear the consequences of losing. Even Black Bolt himself couldn't guarantee he could maintain control over the Inhumans, leading the fight against the alien invaders while simultaneously suppressing Attilan's desire for Earth.

"Make them quiet down."

Black Bat made a gesture to Richard.

Although Richard wasn't a high-ranking or resource-rich member of the royal family, he was still taken aback by Black Bolt's methods, after all, he was also a beneficiary. "Activate the stasis pods and force the psionicists to calm down. We can't risk treating them with uncontrolled psionic abilities." Black Bolt looked at the captured royals. These individuals were all, without exception, vines clinging to the tree of the Attilan royal family—he wondered why he knew what a tree was and what a vine was; he suspected it might be a consequence of his mental communication with human kings—Black Bolt decided to uproot these vines, even though it was too late now. "I will allocate their energy share to the stasis pods; don't worry about the medical department's work being affected."

Attilan's monetary system was linked to energy. The energy from the core generator was distributed to all members of the royal family; the higher the status and the greater the power, the more electricity they received. Attilan's currency was essentially a credit currency centered on energy. Under this distorted social system, members of the royal family and other clan courts monopolized all resources, including the most crucial electricity. Even though it was only a credit currency, greedy people still couldn't control their desires. The lives of the Inhuman commoners living in the upper deck slums were not much better than those on the lower production decks.

The annihilation campaign in the Inhuman settlement was proceeding systematically. Teams of genetically modified warriors advanced along the settlement's streets, gradually clearing out any potential Inhuman strongholds within the area. However, their preparations proved overly thorough, and they had significantly overestimated the Inhumans' military capabilities. The Inhumans, having forgotten military experience, had no idea how to conduct urban defense operations. Even so, they strictly adhered to tactical protocols, carrying out their annihilation mission in the city that was gradually turning to ruins.

The commoners were utterly incapable of acquiring large quantities of Terrigen for mutation, leaving them mostly weak and vulnerable. The royal guards leading these civilians, though disciplined and having undergone targeted mutations, were no match for the genetically modified soldiers. These soldiers, designed to handle bizarre and unpredictable situations, relied solely on their strength and unwavering will to resolve various so-called superpowers that would cause major trouble on Earth—until they encountered creatures crawling out of cracks in the deck, at which point the attacking force faced some real difficulties. This type of enemy was unlike anything seen before. Far exceeding the size of the Inhumans, they were like an overloaded truck speeding through the city. Not only did they share a similar appearance (rare among the Attilan commoner clans, whose mutations are characterized by diversity), but they also attacked indiscriminately. Whether facing genetically modified soldiers or Inhuman civilians, these monsters' claws could even leave deep scratches on the shields of genetically modified soldiers, enough to raise the alarm for command.

"A report from the Kamar-Taj sorcerer?"

Aparisha narrowed his eyes, his armored hands repeatedly opening and closing on the execution axe. He reeked of blood and gunpowder, his cloak stained with dust and blood, his once brass-colored armor almost blackened by congealed blood. "Have you confirmed the enemy is an extradimensional spiritual entity?"

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(End of this chapter)