Red Dragon Spaceship Awakening: I Gain Alien Abilities on Mars-Chapter 237: Progress...

The holographic map of Mars floated above the table, its surface marked with red zones that represented the Obscuron’s territory in the West.

Tatehan stood among the city leaders, his armor reflecting the glow of the projection, though he had left his helmet unsummoned for now.

His face was visible, his expression serious and his eyes tracking the movements of the holographic display as it rotated slowly, showing terrain features, settlement locations, and the ominous crimson expanse that covered nearly a quarter of the planet.

"Five under-construction bases brought down since we destroyed the one at the wastelands before," Tatehan said, his voice cutting through the quiet murmur of conversation that had filled the room moments earlier.

The other leaders turned their attention to him, their expressions ranging from thoughtful to grim.

They had all been present for the aftermath of that first raid, had all seen the weapons seized, the prisoners interrogated and the intel extracted. And in the month since that initial strike, they had not been idle.

It had been one month since they destroyed the base in the North and interrogated the battle commander who had given them information that changed everything. And since then, this was the second meeting they were having.

The first meeting had been held just days after the interrogation, a tense, urgent gathering where Tatehan and Bjorn had laid out everything they had learned.

They had discussed who the Obscuron was, or rather, what he had become. They had talked about the synthetic body, the consciousness transfer, the implications of a being that could live for centuries without aging or weakening.

They had reviewed the intelligence about the West, about the force barrier that surrounded it, about the soldiers and engineers and hackers who worked tirelessly within its borders.

And they had decided, together, what to do with the battle commander.

Tatehan had left that decision largely to Bjorn, though he had made his own position clear. As much as it would have been satisfying, maybe even justified, to kill the man for his role in the Obscuron’s plans, Tatehan was not cold-hearted enough to execute a prisoner who had already broken, who had already given them everything he knew.

And there was always the possibility that the man could provide more information later, he could actually be useful as leverage or as a source of insight into the Obscuron’s operations.

Bjorn had agreed, though reluctantly. The battle commander was still alive, locked away in a holding cell in New Helios, guarded and monitored, a living reminder of what they were up against.

The discussion about how the Obscuron had achieved his transformation: the transfer of his consciousness into a synthetic body, had been one of the most surreal moments of Tatehan’s life.

It had sounded impossible, like something out of a science fiction novel, and for a moment, Tatehan had struggled to reconcile it with his memories of technology back on Earth.

But then he had reminded himself that he was no longer on Earth. He was in the future. And in the future, apparently, anything was possible.

The other leaders had been less shocked than he expected. Elara Voss-Smith, the leader of Loenitt, had nodded thoughtfully and said that while it was certainly surprising, she did not think it was impossible. Jorin Selles from Iron Haven had pointed out that there had always been rumors about the Obscuron, whispers that he was something more than human, something that had crossed the border of what was natural or normal.

Tom Vayr from Reon Outpost had simply shrugged and said that it explained a lot.

They had all expected something like this. They had known, on some level, that the Obscuron’s longevity was not just luck or good genetics. It was something else.

Something engineered actually.

That was only the sensible real reason to how the man had survived for a century.

How the man had been able to live past the normal short life span thar had been expected of the first humans on Mars, and that was not adding the fact that he was a teenager when it first came on Mars.

To survive for more than a century even as a normal human was although achievable by some people, if was sort of rare. But then, Earth had good living conditions than Mars, even now, talkless of when Mars was not yet terraformed to how it was now.

So it was only sensible that something extraordinary had been done for him to remain alive to continue chasing his goal of human obliteration.

Tatehan pulled himself back to the present, his gaze shifting from the holographic map to the faces of the leaders around the table.

"But the Obscuron hasn’t really shown anger that we’re ruining his plans," Tatehan continued, his tone with concern.

"And it’s shocking. We’ve taken down five of his bases. We’ve seized his weapons, captured his soldiers, disrupted his expansion into the North. And yet... nothing. No retaliation. No counterattack. He’s just been silent."

The other leaders thought about this for some time, their expressions darkening as they processed the implications.

Elara Voss-Smith, the tall woman with sharp features and black hair pulled back into a severe bun, leaned forward slightly. "Maybe since he cannot age like us, he’s expecting us to grow old before he strikes bigger? Perhaps he thinks he can simply wait us out."

Bjorn almost laughed at this, a short, incredulous sound that he cut off before it could fully escape. He retained his seriousness, his pale eyes narrowing as he looked at Elara. "Wouldn’t that just be stupidity?" he asked, his thick accent making the words sound even more blunt. "I mean, by doing so, he would only risk making us become stronger."

Jorin Selles, the lean, wiry leader of Iron Haven, frowned. "Stronger?" he repeated, his tone skeptical. "How would we be stronger when we’re old? When our bodies are failing, when our reflexes are slower and when we can barely hold a weapon without our hands shaking? That doesn’t make sense, Bjorn."

The word seemed almost childish coming from Jorin, as if the concept of growing stronger with age was some naive fantasy that only someone inexperienced would believe.

But Bjorn did not take offense. Instead, he leaned forward, his massive hands resting on the table, and his expression grew more serious. "I’m not talking about us individually," he said, his voice steady and deliberate.

"I’m talking about what we leave behind. We would be old, yes. Maybe dead. But what about the people after us? The next generation? If we spend the next few decades preparing them, training them, building infrastructure, stockpiling resources and strengthening alliances: then they would be stronger than we are now. And they would continue the cause. So waiting... it shouldn’t be a logical thing that the Obscuron would do."

There was a pause as the other leaders absorbed this, and Tatehan saw a few of them nodding slowly, their expressions shifting into something more thoughtful.

But then Tom Vayr, the leader of Reon Outpost, spoke up. He was younger than the others, maybe in his early thirties, with sharp, intelligent eyes and a restless energy that made him seem like he was always thinking three steps ahead.

"Not exactly," Tom said, his voice calm but firm. "If the Obscuron does nothing and just relaxes, if he lets us prepare and build and train, then yes, the people after us might be stronger in terms of resources and capability. But they wouldn’t have the same urgency. They wouldn’t respond with the same intensity that we do now."

He paused, his gaze going across the table, kind of making sure everyone was listening.

"We’ve witnessed the brutality of the Obscuron firsthand," Tom continued.

"We’ve seen what he’s capable of. We’ve fought his forces, lost people we cared about and watched our cities burn. That gives us urgency. That makes us willing to take risks, to push harder, to sacrifice more. But the people after us? They won’t have that. They’ll have grown up in a time of relative peace, a time when the Obscuron was just a distant threat, a name in the history books. They won’t understand the danger the way we do. They’ll relax and they’ll grow complacent."

Tom leaned back in his chair, his expression darkening. "And the Obscuron is a man, well, not a man anymore, but a being, who specializes in making big surprises. He’ll capitalize on that relaxation. He’ll wait until the next generation lets their guard down, and then he’ll strike on a massive scale. Something that ends everything, all at once."

The room fell silent.

Tatehan stared at Tom, his mind turning over the logic of what the man had just said. It made sense. Terrifying, brutal sense. The Obscuron was not operating on the same timeline as them. He did not need to rush. He could afford to be patient, to wait decades or even centuries if necessary, because time was no longer his enemy.

And when he finally struck, it would be with the full force of everything he had been building, everything he had been planning and everything he had been preparing for over the course of his impossibly long existence. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

It would be apocalyptic.