Across the two hundred million light-years of Sector 4 (The Northern 200 Galaxies). All one hundred thousand inhabited worlds were now resting safely on Ao Xing’s broad silver-gold dragon back. The surrounding starry void was still riddled with 100,000 Jagged Spatial Canyons left behind by the King of Massacre’s bridge-demolition bombs.
Chaotic dark-red void-winds howled through those shattered spatial canyons, cutting off every trade route, postal lane, and family-visitation road between the three million worlds of the North.
On the bridge of Refugee Transport #09, Commander Bei looked out at the torn void fabric with a heavy sigh:
“Even though Young Master Ao Xing saved our lives and defeated the two thousand Slaughter Clones, our 100,000 Inter-Galactic Spatial Bridges took three thousand generations of northern array-masters to build. With all one hundred thousand bridges blown into spatial rubble, it will take at least ten thousand years to rebuild the roads connecting our two hundred galaxies...”
“Ten thousand years? Why would paving a road take ten thousand years?!”
Up in the starry sky, eleven-year-old [Astral Highway & Shelter Dragon God] Ao Xing’s friendly, booming voice echoed gently across the radio of every ship and planet on his back:
“When Daddy and Ancestor Gu Mu taught me how to pave the driveway in front of our [Galactic Flying Courtyard], it only took us ten minutes before breakfast! Watch closely, Northern uncles and aunties—Little Fifth is gonna blow out a brand-new, ten-lane starlight expressway for everybody right now!”
