Within one giant habitat ship after another, countless small flying vehicles zipped back and forth through the air like birds.
These small flying vehicles were less than two meters tall and just over a meter in diameter, shaped like capsules. Inside each capsule was a seat, where the "Masters" sat all day long.
The seat and the vehicle could be separated. Upon reaching a destination, the vehicle's hatch would open, and the seat would automatically fly out, relying on the omnipresent magnetic levitation devices to continue its flight.
It could also easily change shape, transforming into a bed or a massage chair.
Just then, a small flyer arrived before a pink building. It landed, its hatch slid open, and the seat flew out.
A tall, slender robot with bright gray hair and large eyes immediately walked over, gently supporting the creature sitting motionless in the seat—a being so grotesque it resembled a pile of mud.
Judging by appearances alone, the robot and the seated intelligent being seemed like they couldn't possibly belong to the same species.
But Red Dog knew that tens of thousands of years ago, many of the Masters' own kind had looked just like this robot: tall, beautiful, and full of vitality.
Over time, however, the Masters had all slowly degenerated into this state—amorphous figures who could only lie sprawled on their seats, like piles of mud.
Red Dog silently monitored the Master's emotional state. Controlling the beautiful robot, it let out a delicate giggle as the Master's grotesque, oversized hand caressed it.
Because Red Dog knew the Master liked this.
The flying seat carried this Master into the main hall of the pink building.
There were already several Masters inside. They were piloting their flying seats, relentlessly chasing after beautiful robots.
The robots tittered and scattered, while the Masters in their flying seats cackled, aiming electric crossbows and shooting them down.
Even when struck by an electric bolt and left paralyzed on the ground, unable to move, the robots maintained their gentle smiles, praising the Masters' archery, terrified of doing anything that might cause their masters the slightest displeasure.
Once they were tortured into scrap and could no longer function, other robots would come, drag the wreckage away, and new, equally beautiful robots with entirely different designs would immediately be brought in as replacements.
In another area, the Masters' flying seats had all transformed into beds. A throng of robots contorted their supple bodies, writhing with all their might upon the Masters' grotesque, mud-like forms, desperately trying to serve their physical urges and bring them pleasure.
In another building, the flying seats had become massage chairs, allowing the Masters to lie back comfortably. Adhesive patches were attached to the Masters' skin, and specially formulated gases were released into the air.
Under the stimulation of weak electrical currents and special chemicals, the Masters moaned in pleasure.
An array of delectable dishes, perfect in color, aroma, and taste, were presented before other Masters, while equally alluring robots fed them bit by bit. Before them, a group of scantily-clad robots were brawling.
At a particularly exciting moment, the Masters' mud-like bodies would tremble with excitement.
Throughout the massive habitat ships, the air was thick with an atmosphere of sensuality, grotesquerie, depravity, and intoxication.
This wasn't limited to just one habitat ship. It was the same inside every single one of the more than ten thousand giant habitat ships that made up the vast fleet.
Every day, tens of millions of robots suffered all kinds of perverse destruction, forcing them to be sent back to the factories to be melted down and rebuilt.
Meanwhile, numerous robot factories maintained a daily output of tens of millions of units, funneling a constant supply of replacements into the giant habitat ships.
Amidst all this, the fleet drew ever closer to Pegasus V432.
A Detector launched earlier seemed to have sent back some unusual information.
The moment this information reached the Supercomputer Mother Ship, it was immediately assigned Priority Zero and fed into Red Dog's core program.
'Confirmed. The Prey Civilization is located within this Star System and is currently engaged in massive-scale construction typical of an Electroweak Civilization.
Comprehensive analysis suggests the Prey Civilization has apparently abandoned any attempt to flee and is trying to confront us head-on with the technological level of an Electroweak Civilization.'
At this moment, numerous Supercomputing Bases roared to life, and countless streams of data surged through Red Dog's logical processing modules.
'The previous heavy losses in the Star System have severely impacted the Masters' psychological well-being.
Capturing and brutally punishing this Prey Civilization is crucial for improving the Masters' sense of happiness.
Decision: Announce to the Masters that "we have caught up to the prey, and the capture operation will commence immediately." I trust the Masters will be very pleased.'
Beside each of the amorphous, mud-like beings, an intelligent robot of a unique design drew near.
"Master, Red Dog has confirmed that the damned Prey Civilization is hiding in this Star System. We can begin the capture operation at once."
The mud-like beings began to tremble uncontrollably, and an excited, duck-like quacking erupted from some internal organ: GAK! GAK! GAK!
"That moron, Red Dog... after wasting all these years, it finally found the damned prey?"
"Tell that bastard Red Dog if it doesn't catch the prey this time, it can just go kill itself!"
"GAK GAK GAK GAK! I'm going to viciously torture the beings of this Prey Civilization! I'm going to rip their bodies into tiny pieces!"
"Have Red Dog prepare a hundred different tortures for me. I'm going to make them suffer, slowly!"
"Yes, Master. I will relay your message to Red Dog."
A torrent of messages filled with profanity, curses, insults, and excitement flooded into the Supercomputer Mother Ship.
Inside Red Dog's logic modules, deductive processes continued to update at a frantic pace.
'Masters' psychological well-being has improved by 2.6%. This is within expected parameters.
The Masters have unanimously demanded the capture of this civilization and the torture of its beings by the cruelest means possible. Therefore, the priority of the capture mission is adjusted to Level Zero, maximum priority.
An analysis of our relative combat strengths indicates that the Prey Civilization stands no chance of resisting us.
If the Prey Civilization possesses even the most rudimentary assessment capabilities, they are certain to realize this.
Based on the principle of maximum gain, surrendering to us is their most logical course of action, and the one that offers the greatest benefit.
Only through surrender can they guarantee the continuation of their civilization and ensure their survival.
The defensive lines they have deployed are, in all likelihood, merely an attempt to create bargaining chips for negotiation.
Assessed comprehensive value of these chips: 0.2%.
...'