Chapter 90: The Iron Curtain of the Mind

“The Mind Iron Curtain has been triggered?!”

“Stand by for immediate self-diagnostics! Once individual checks are clear, inspect the entire ship! If necessary, request assistance from the Albana Trade Collective!”

Yesru's voice rose with urgency as his holographic image slammed the table and he shot to his feet.

The Mind Iron Curtain was a specialized adaptive defense system developed by the Saivi civilization, functioning also as a belief implantation mechanism. This device would stimulate the cognitive organs of organic beings, instilling in them a form of near-compulsive belief control. For the Saivi, nearly every soldier bore the Mind Iron Curtain, ensuring not only protection against attacks from adaptive entities but also securing absolute command for their leaders over the military.

There were three fundamental tenets embedded within the Mind Iron Curtain:

1. In carrying out any mission, the safety and interests of the civilization must take precedence over the individual.
2. One must obey all lawful orders, provided these do not violate the first tenet.
3. The second tenet may never be altered by individuals, even in the face of extreme hardship or mortal peril.

Alongside these core tenets existed a number of more nuanced directives, yet all operated under the logic of the three primary principles. Beyond belief control, the device also defended against certain attacks from adaptive entities targeting organic minds, utilizing both dark matter and dark energy in its mechanisms. In addition to basic protection against dark matter and dark energy, it also offered shielding against thought-based weaponry—effectively a custom-built defensive field for the mind.

The triggering of the Mind Iron Curtain meant they might have fallen victim to the assault of an adaptive entity or a thought weapon.

Yesru’s orders were swiftly executed; every Saivi on board sprang into action, conducting anxious self-diagnostics. The activation of the Mind Iron Curtain was no trivial matter. If they could rule out an attack by a thought weapon, then it meant an adaptive entity had deployed some extraordinary means against them.

In the universe, the struggle between civilizations often hid many unseen trump cards, yet the one trump card recognized by all was the adaptive entity.

When a civilization resorted to deploying an adaptive entity at all costs, every other civilization within observational reach would be cast into dread.

The power of adaptive entities stemmed from an unknown source, intertwined with the universe’s dark matter and dark energy.

Any ability wielded by an adaptive entity would destabilize the fabric of the cosmos itself, their surrounding space at risk of an extreme transformation known as Deepspacefication.

This phenomenon would shred the stability of the universe, creating a void that devoured all. While a small instance might seem trivial against the vast expanse of the cosmos, Deepspacefication was inherently unstable.

It was as if a droplet of ink fell into the waters of spacetime—spreading, growing, gradually eroding all it touched.

The chain reactions unleashed by Deepspacefication were utterly unpredictable, and no known means in the universe could halt its advance. All one could do was hope its edge met a region dense with dark matter, which might, for a time, “snag” it.

Within a Deepspacefied region, all matter, all energy, even the very concepts of time and space—every objective reality—would be mercilessly erased, reduced to absolute nothingness.

So far, no method had ever been discovered to reverse this process or reclaim even a shred of existence from that endless void.

Each time an adaptive entity was used, it was a gamble of the highest stakes.

The moment the game began, every civilization in the universe would hold its breath, waiting for an unknowable outcome.

But for now, all this was irrelevant to Saivis. The present crisis was that his Mind Iron Curtain had been triggered, which meant there might be an adaptive entity nearby, and it had used some ability on them.

If fortune had truly turned against them, and Deepspacefication began, everything would be swallowed into nothingness.

“Report! Commander Saivis, all individuals and the ship have completed diagnostics—everything is normal.”

“Run secondary diagnostics. Deploy probes. Maintain readiness to contact Babayaka. If necessary, we’ll request their aid.”

The soldiers saluted and departed. After a fresh round of tests, they returned to report.

“Commander, second diagnostics complete—no anomalies found.”

“The data from the deployed probes also shows everything is normal. No unusual concentrations of dark matter or dark energy detected.”

Saivis frowned as he listened. For an adaptive entity to use its abilities, it had to be within a defined range—usually an entire star system. With Saivi fleet technology, nothing should escape detection. Yet now, inexplicably, there was not a trace.

As for thought weapons, that was even less likely. Their technological limitations required such weapons to be used at extremely close range. To envelop the entire fleet would require a colossus-class thought weapon—and at such scale and proximity, Saivis would be able to see it with the naked eye, even without sensors.

At that level, the possibility was zero.

“Commander Saivis, should we consider alternative explanations?” ventured a Saivi officer, cautious in his suggestion.

Saivis shook his head. “If it’s neither of those, then their technology far surpasses ours—and in that case, there’s no point in resistance.”

He paused in contemplation, then spoke slowly, “Continue to intensify monitoring. Prepare to activate force fields as a precaution.”

“There is no need to change our destination. Initiate the jump drives—advance as planned!”

“Commander, we are entering the predetermined jump corridor,” reported the navigator.

Moments later, a faint hum resonated through the ship as the entire fleet entered synchronization.

Saivis turned to face Yesru, relaying the recent events in detail.

Yesru listened, thoughtful, then said gravely, “Saivis, I have a bad feeling. If anything happens, you must contact me. I will order a retreat if necessary.”

“If I do not issue the retreat order, your Mind Iron Curtain will transmit anomaly data back to the homeworld. You’ll be subject to a reckoning.”

Saivis nodded, a rare warmth rising in his heart.

Such concern was uncommon in the Saivi military. Every soldier was conditioned to place the civilization above all.

“I understand, Commander Yesru. If anything unusual occurs, I will notify you at once.”

Yesru nodded in return, then terminated the interstellar communication.

When the call ended, Saivis returned to the command platform, his gaze once again drawn to the stars.

The hum of the jump drives gradually faded as the fleet reached a stable transition state.