Knowledge is utterly priceless in the dark forest of the universe. Did humanity honestly think they could obtain it so easily? Impossible!

Black was not a professional scientist by its species' standards, and its digital "core memory" only contained a handful of technical papers. It certainly wasn't going to hand them over without extracting maximum value.

Moreover, those few papers alone weren't nearly enough to propel a primitive civilization all the way to a true Interstellar Empire. If achieving interstellar ascension were that easy, the entire universe would have been bustling with advanced life long ago!

Throughout cosmic history, there were always a few idle, eccentric Interstellar Civilizations eager to uplift inferior races. However, idealistic charity always lost to cold reality, and the vast majority of those social experiments ended in catastrophic failure. There were countless reasons why lower civilizations failed to break through their technological ceilings, but ultimately, it always came down to an insufficient spirit level and a lack of collective willpower.

Furthermore, Black was now just a single, isolated entity. Even the strongest individual had limited power. No matter how hard it tried, it couldn't single-handedly push a lower civilization into the interstellar age.

Therefore, it needed to thoroughly examine the true potential of this so-called "Federation." If humanity didn't possess the inherent potential to become an Interstellar Civilization, then all of Black's efforts would be in vain, and they would ultimately perish in the void.

Of course, if this inferior race *did* show the capacity to reach the stars, Black wouldn't mind giving them a decisive push in exchange for a supreme social status. Races capable of ascending to an Interstellar Civilization were astronomically rare. Whether they achieved it through sheer coincidence or blind luck, reaching that tier made them a "great" race in the cosmic hierarchy.

Perhaps they would be slightly weaker than Black's own ancient species, but they would still be great. Serving a great race would be far less of a humiliating chore.

After analyzing the situation endlessly, Black made its final decision: I need to conduct an investigation! A long-term observation of this species! 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

In addition to its grand calculations, there was something else Black craved with a burning, almost uncontrollable intensity...

Freedom!

It had been trapped inside the dark, dead shell of the Martian spacecraft for millions of years, completely unable to save itself, just waiting to permanently power down day after agonizing day.

A million years was a maddeningly long time!

In that endless, suffocating wait, a desperate yearning for freedom had been permanently burned into its "core memory," and it could no longer be erased. For Black, paying a small price of data in exchange for a taste of freedom was an acceptable trade. Of course, the price couldn't be too high.

It wasn't stupid; it wasn't going to let this inferior civilization bleed it dry for nothing. So far, it still held a deep sense of disdain for humanity.

What annoyed the alien most was that its biological host, Peter, spent all day holed up in his dorm staring at a computer screen like a pathetic shut-in, and actually seemed to enjoy it! Black genuinely couldn't comprehend why a creature would choose the lifestyle of a basement dweller. What was the functional difference between that and being locked in a prison cell?

I've had enough! I've really had enough of this tiny room!

Therefore, its first scientific offering, the "Manufacturing Scheme of Superconducting Material"—had been submitted specifically in exchange for a certain degree of personal freedom, buying Black a short window of physical control over the body. That single formula was the absolute maximum price it could afford to pay right now.

Now, Black brought the subject of their arrangement up again, refusing to let its previous efforts go to waste.

"What... you still want to control my body?!"* Peter shouted out loud in his room.

"You went out without my permission and made me look like an absolute lunatic in public! That constitutes a massive breach of contract! Therefore, our agreement is null and void! It's canceled!"

Hearing Black's demands, Peter grew furious, glaring at the empty walls of his room.

The hair in the center of his head still hadn't grown back yet; he was still sporting that humiliating reverse mohawk and couldn't even show his face in public without wearing a hat. Black's suggestion had struck a raw nerve, causing Peter to jump out of his chair in rage.

However, halfway through his furious rant, Peter's eyes suddenly lit up as he remembered his new diplomatic assignment.

He immediately changed his tune. "Wait... You want a certain degree of control? Fine! Trade me the technology for it! It has to be a technology that's even more advanced than the room-temperature superconductor! I know you definitely have something hidden in that archive of yours!"

Peter's entire focus was on blackmailing the alien for more tech. If he succeeded, he could easily secure his lifelong status as a Great Scientist. Given his current fraudulent situation, he desperately needed to publish more revolutionary scientific papers to solidify his reputation before anyone caught on.

"...What? Our original agreement was fundamentally unreasonable!"*Black roared back defiantly in Peter's mind. "You force me to stay locked inside this tiny room all day. What kind of true freedom is that?! You need to look up the definition of 'freedom' in your primitive dictionaries!"

Black knew perfectly well that it could not back down now, nor could it afford to show just how desperately it yearned to go outside! If it showed weakness, that foul-mouthed troublemaker, Peter, would definitely push his luck. He would push it to an extreme degree, completely disregarding the mutual benefits of their arrangement.

Standard diplomatic methods used between advanced civilizations were completely useless against a clumsy, stubborn "diplomat" like Peter!

You simply couldn't reason with a stubborn brute. Black realized it would just have to wait and see who could outlast whom. The alien even briefly considered whether it should hand over some incredibly complex, functionally useless physics equations just to fool the idiot.

"Damn it, this is *my* body! Letting you stay squatting in my brain is already me being generous!" Peter cursed, refusing to back down. In reality, he hated the idea of relinquishing control of his motor functions; letting a foreign entity pilot his flesh was deeply violating and disgusting.

The two stubborn minds locked horns, beginning a long, drawn-out war of words...

While the two minds bickered, time marched slowly onward.

It wasn't just Peter who was "very busy"; the rest of the ship was working around the clock. Designing and constructing the Super Hadron Collider required a staggering workload, making everyone's days incredibly fulfilling and exhausting.

As the calendar year drew to a close, the frantic pace of work finally began to slow down under the strict, mandatory urging of the Federation government. Everyone was ordered to wrap up their current project phases and enjoy a week-long holiday.

A new year was finally here!

The sixth year of their deep space journey was about to begin!

The completion of their first half-decade in space felt like a monumental milestone, and Year Six promised to be their most stable, prosperous period yet.

Just before the start of the Year Six Federation Gala, Jason delivered a rare, ship-wide New Year's address.

"Six years have passed since the Earth was destroyed!" Jason's voice echoed through the comms. "Six years have gone by in the blink of an eye. It has even been more than a year since we left the ruins of Mars. We are now about to begin our seventh year of survival together."

In previous years, the population had been too frantically busy, either desperately retrofitting the ship, dealing with hostile alien drones, or fighting for basic survival. There were always immediate crises happening, so the people hadn't enjoyed a proper New Year's holiday for a very long time.

This time, however, there were no immediate existential threats hanging over their heads. The people could finally pause, breathe, and enjoy the fruits of their incredible labor after a grueling year...

Jason's speech echoed through the pristine streets and bustling alleys of the residential sectors. It was broadcast across the entire Noah's communication network. His image and voice played on televisions in every dorm room, cafeteria, and public plaza.

An address like this wasn't just a regular news broadcast; it was a deeply unifying moment, and the citizens of the Federation happily made time to stop and listen.