A civilization's strength is reflected not just in its technology, but in its spirit, culture, and institutions... It encompasses almost everything. As an entity born from a once highly intelligent species, Black felt deeply proud of its mother civilization.

But that great civilization had been destroyed, and nothing was the same anymore. In the end, only a few individuals survived. It could only take things one step at a time.

There were still many things it had kept hidden during its conversation with Peter. Individuals from a lower-tier civilization like him, who had never experienced the broader cosmos, wouldn't understand even if it explained everything.

For instance, the specific mathematical algorithms used to calculate the Spirit Level, the exact standards for each score, and their respective weights. Peter hadn't asked, so Black hadn't answered.

It believed it was unnecessary. The Federation was still in its infancy. Even if they knew the exact algorithms, it wouldn't be of much use. How could they possibly evaluate other civilizations?

This was especially true for the "mindset" aspect. Once fully developed, a civilization's mindset was incredibly difficult to change, yet it carried the highest weight in the final score...

Peter remained silent for a long time. He had absorbed a massive amount of information and was feeling quite satisfied.

While these concepts were fascinating novelties, they offered little practical help to humanity's current situation. Still, it was enough to satisfy his curiosity.

Of course, he fully intended to enjoy the rest of his wonderful holiday first. After that, he would write the necessary reports and start studying hard... *I'm going to give it my all*, he secretly vowed, though he had made that exact same promise countless times before.

-------

Six years had passed since the global catastrophe on Earth. In that time, the Noah had undergone tremendous changes.

The most significant change was in the people's mental state. Six years was long enough to dull the sharp edge of grief from Doomsday, and many people had begun to start new families.

During the New Year celebrations, everyone was all smiles. Parents guided their toddlers through the halls, exchanging warm greetings and pleasantries, fostering a harmonious and joyful atmosphere throughout society.

The widespread adoption of functional robots had liberated citizens from tedious manual labor. Cooking, laundry, and even physical therapy were handled by automatons, granting people more time to work, rest, and enjoy their leisure.

Although physical resources were strictly rationed, their overall quality of life had significantly improved.

Then... the hospital experienced a massive surge in patients!

It wasn't because of an outbreak of illness. Rather, everyone was trying to schedule an appointment for the new stem cell reactivation treatments to extend their lifespans!

This public health initiative was completely free. Due to the sheer number of applicants, it didn't really matter if someone got their shot a day early or a day late. Citizens simply booked their appointments and returned to their daily lives.

The seventh year since humanity's exodus from Earth had officially begun...

In his office, Jason was discussing the manufacturing plans for a new generation of spacecraft with his team.

Humanity did possess spacecraft, primarily the *Victory*-class shuttles. While they represented the pinnacle of pre-catastrophe engineering, they were now decade-old models. With the recent explosion in technological advancements and the discovery of new materials, these old shuttles were woefully obsolete.

However... while researching new spacecraft was important, it wasn't an absolute priority because humanity already had the Noah. Their current technology simply couldn't construct a vessel more powerful than the mother ship.

Still, the research was necessary. The Noah lacked a conventional propulsion system, and humanity desperately needed to develop genuine spaceflight capabilities.

But there was a critical bottleneck: the newly built prototypes couldn't be test-flown!

Although the interior of the Noah was vast, it wasn't large enough to accommodate ultra-high-speed maneuvers. A ship would crash into the outer hull in the blink of an eye.

Because of this, the new spacecraft R&D division had always been stuck in an awkward position, suffering from severe understaffing and limited resource allocation.

Fortunately, after years of stumbling through trial and error, the massive processing power of the new quantum computers had finally yielded significant breakthroughs.

The digital blueprints and simulations were completely finalized; all that was left was the physical test flight!

Jason had only discovered this milestone while reviewing Lily's comprehensive year-end summary. Otherwise, he might have overlooked the project entirely.

At the dawn of the new year, he eagerly convened a specialized meeting with the relevant engineers.

"The first prototype is a lightweight combat interceptor. It has a crew capacity of two pilots, a total mass of 20.7 metric tons, and a hull forged from B-series superalloy lightweight metals..."

The primary contributor to this project was a weapons engineer named Roman, formerly an aerospace expert who specialized in fighter jets back on Earth. His research team had spearheaded the entire design process.

The holographic display showed a 3D model of the interceptor. It was approximately 13 meters long, and 5 meters in both width and height. It wasn't overly large, equipped with a total of twelve ion thrusters distributed across its underbelly and flanks.

Since aerodynamics were irrelevant in the vacuum of space, it didn't feature the sleek, falcon-like geometry of an atmospheric fighter jet. Instead, it was blocky, prioritizing structural integrity and stability.

Marcus, Shane, and the other military officers rubbed their hands together, their faces beaming with excitement. A dedicated combat spacecraft! They had been anticipating this for years, and it was finally off the drawing board.

Naturally, the interceptor's primary payload consisted of miniaturized nuclear warheads. Conventional chemical explosives were completely obsolete in a space combat environment.

Austin reviewed the technical specs on the side monitor, nodding in approval. "The maximum velocity reaches 360,000 kilometers per hour? Seriously? That's 100 kilometers per second!"

He was incredibly satisfied. At 100 kilometers per second, it would only take about two minutes to fly from one side of Earth to the other. Wasn't that unbelievably fast?

Jason shook his head. "It isn't really that fast, is it? Sure, 100 kilometers per second is phenomenal compared to atmospheric aircraft. But for space warfare, it's practically crawling. Have you forgotten about the Viridians' electromagnetic railguns? Those projectiles travel at 10,000 kilometers per second, a hundred times faster!"

Chief Designer Roman chimed in. "Captain, for manned spacecraft, we have to factor in the maximum G-force the human body can endure. In truth, this interceptor's acceleration already pushes biological limits."

"A highly trained pilot can withstand sustained acceleration up to nine Gs. At that rate, reaching 100 kilometers per second would take eighteen and a half minutes! Nine Gs of sustained force! A biologically augmented individual might handle it, but a baseline human simply couldn't survive that duration; they would black out in seconds!"

"100 kilometers per second is the theoretical maximum velocity, but maneuvering at that speed is entirely beyond a normal pilot's reaction times. A cruising speed of 10 kilometers per second is a far more realistic operational threshold."

Jason frowned. An operational speed of 10 kilometers per second might be great for fighting primitive atmospheric civilizations... Most conventional missiles couldn't even reach that speed. But up against an advanced alien faction wielding energy weapons that traveled near the speed of light, wouldn't they be sitting ducks?

Wouldn't these manned interceptors just be cannon fodder?

However, human biology had strict limitations that couldn't simply be willed away. Extreme G-forces acted like an immense crushing weight, easily rupturing blood vessels and collapsing internal organs. At high enough speeds, the pilot would be liquefied before the battle even began.

He couldn't help but ask, "The human body is just too fragile. It seems like utilizing unmanned combat drones would be far more reliable... But even drones require human operators. At 100 kilometers per second, aren't we exceeding the sensory and reaction capabilities of a normal human being?"