## Chapter Seventeen: The True Reclamation
The vast, bioluminescent gates of Abylaris hummed, then parted, not to admit a single submarine, but to unleash a fleet. Above the abyssal city, the **Abyssal Forge** constructs, now utterly transformed and fortified by Kael's insights, rose from the deep. Their immense, crystalline forms shimmered with new energy signatures, their outer hides pulsing with subtle, integrated defenses unseen by human eyes. This was no scouting mission; this was the full, unyielding might of the Nethari, honed and perfected for a single purpose: absolute **reclamation**.
Kael stood on the command bridge of the lead Forge-ship, the *Harbinger of Balance*, its living walls vibrating with suppressed power. Thalyn stood by his side, a silent, unwavering presence, her silver eyes fixed on the shimmering projection of the surface world that filled the forward viewscreen. The pain of the simulated future still resonated within Kael, a cold, hard ember that fueled his resolve. He would not allow the real conflict to descend into the chaos and tragedy of the test.
"Regent Virexen's final blessing has been received, Confluence," a Nethari commander reported, her voice a calm ripple in the collective consciousness. "The fleet is aligned. All adaptations are fully active."
Kael's gaze was fixed on the planet above, a beautiful, fragile sphere scarred by humanity's touch. "Initiate the primary orbital ascent," he commanded, his voice measured, every word resonating with Nethari authority. "Target primary resource hubs and global communication arrays. No direct population centers, not yet. We will disable their ability to coordinate before their capacity to resist."
The ascent was a silent, terrifying ballet of power. Dozens of Forge-ships, each a colossal, self-contained ecosystem of advanced Nethari life and technology, pierced the ocean's surface. They broke through the tumultuous waves with barely a ripple, their forms catching the faint, distant sunlight before ascending into the upper atmosphere. Beneath them, the clouds parted, revealing continents oblivious to the overwhelming force now bearing down upon them.
Humanity, still reeling from the secret victory at Denver and the immediate disarming of their nuclear arsenal (a simulated event Kael now fought to prevent in reality), watched the skies with growing dread. They had been taught that the deep ones were silent, striking from below. This visible, undeniable armada was a new, terrifying reality.
The initial strikes were surgical, precise, and utterly overwhelming. The **Abyssal Forge** constructs did not detonate; they **dissolved**. Entire satellite constellations vanished in silent energy pulses. Major internet backbones and broadcast towers simply phased out of existence, replaced by the omnipresent, resonant hum of the expanding Nethari network. Desalination plants and key rare-earth mines, once targets of ground incursions in the simulation, were now consumed by colossal Nethari energy fields from orbit, their output automatically rerouted into abyssal conduits.
In the Alliance War Room, the remaining strategists stared at the rapidly darkening global map. "Communications offline, global," a panicked technician cried. "Pacific grid gone. Euro-Asian complex... vanished. We're blind. We're deaf."
General Armitage gripped the edge of his table, his knuckles white. This was no longer a desperate lashing out; this was a systematic, intelligent dismantling, far beyond anything they had seen before. "They've learned," he rasped, a chilling realization dawning on him. "They know our every move, our every weakness. And they're not holding back."
Kael observed the unfolding scenario with a chilling detachment. The simulated future, the mistakes of the test, served as a constant guide. Humanity's fragmented responses were easily anticipated. Their desperate attempts to launch retaliatory strikes were met with Nethari countermeasures that dissolved their weapons mid-launch. His focus was absolute, ensuring no Nethari life was lost, no critical asset compromised. This was not about revenge; it was about control. About absolute, unyielding control, leading to an eventual, forced **adaptation**.
Thalyn, watching the unfolding events, sensed the profound shift in Kael. He was no longer battling internal demons; he was the embodiment of Nethari will, honed by the **Guardian Spirit's** trial. He was utterly effective.
But even with their overwhelming superiority, Kael knew this would not be a swift, conclusive victory. Humanity was vast, stubborn, and deeply ingrained in every corner of the planet. Disabling their infrastructure was one thing; subjugating billions, integrating their very existence into the Nethari vision of balance, would be a monumental undertaking. This was not the end of the war; it was merely the opening salvo of a long, arduous **reclamation**.
The true work of planetary integration, of establishing a new, Nethari-guided order for a vast and defiant species, had only just begun. The surface world, unknowingly, had entered its longest night.