Chapter 910: When False Is Treated as True, the True Becomes False (Part 1)

In the SHIELD corridor, Shieler walked toward the medical room holding a medical file, while Nick Fury, face dark, passed him by; Shieler nodded to him, but Fury gave no response.

Though his dark skin made it hard to read his expression, the sharp downward turn of his mouth and the bulging temples made it clear he had just erupted in fury and was still seething.

After Nick Fury passed him, Shieler shook his head and walked toward his target room—the door had not fully closed, clearly indicating Fury had just left.

Inside were two hospital beds; on one, Captain America lay resting with bandaged arms, but the slight tremor of his eyelashes revealed he was not asleep—and his mind was troubled.

Shieler turned and saw the cup shattered on the floor, water stains on his shoes, footprints trailing all the way to the door; this room had clearly just witnessed a fierce argument, yet when Shieler entered, only Captain America's heavy breathing remained.

Shieler sat on the edge of the bed and set down the medical file, looking at Captain America. "What happened? Did you argue with the Director? Why?"

Captain America raised his arm to shield his eyes, as if unwilling to let Shieler see his gaze. "Shieler… no, Dr. Maner, you've served as a military doctor aboard the Polar Star Fleet for so long—don't you understand our commanders?"

Shieler lowered his head and sighed softly. "Precisely because I understand him, I've come to persuade you, Barak. You've served in the fleet for years—you know better than I do that when he fled with the Polar Star Fleet, his only dream was to revive the Skrull Empire."

"But the Skrull Empire doesn't need reviving!" Captain America said, looking at Shieler. "They still hold vast territories and powerful fleets deep in the cosmos. And we—we ended up here because he knows better than anyone else why."

Shieler took a deep breath. "Stop bringing up the past. Now, you and I are his subordinates. The plan has been going smoothly, deepening his obsession with reviving the Skrull Empire on Earth."

"Lately, progress has stalled—he's bound to be angry. Barak, at least consider this: he still controls the last remaining flagship of the Polar Star Fleet."

"Yes, after that disaster, the monster devoured our homeworld and nearly ninety percent of our defense fleet. The remaining ships split into several groups, rescuing the surviving Skrulls."

"Since then, we've wandered endlessly. Originally, we should have pooled all our strength to find a new home and rebuild our own civilization."

"But he—a disgraced general, exiled from power over ideological differences—claimed we would forever be fugitives with no home, and took the strongest flagship away from our people…"

On Captain America's handsome face appeared a complex expression—anger, guilt, sorrow. His voice trembled as he spoke: "Back then, Talos came to Earth with us, but his decision to part ways with him wasn't without reason."

"Our general took the Skrulls' strongest fleet, leaving the people we swore to protect stranded and helpless across the cosmos."

"Revive the Skrull Empire? No—he's rushing his plan because humanity is now entering the cosmos, beginning to hear cosmic rumors."

"First, ordinary people heard of the Nine Realms and Asgard; then came whispers of the three great cosmic empires. To this general's dismay, the Skrull Empire remains one of the three—and possibly the strongest."

"When Talbert and I heard that news, we were overjoyed—our homeland still exists, our people still live, they're thriving, and we still have a place to return to…"

"But do you know what expression he wore?" Captain America gave a ridiculous look. "He felt rage, jealousy, disbelief…"

"He believed those who disagreed with him could never rebuild the great Skrull Empire—that only he was right. For years, he's held this conviction."

"He thought he'd fooled Odin, deceived all of Asgard, secretly infiltrated the cosmic greenhouse, and was about to dismantle this weak civilization from within."

Captain America shook his head. "Every inch of the Nine Realms lies under Odin's watch. He allowed us in only because we were too weak—even weaker than humans."

"What do we have left? A mad general, a band of exiled dogs unable to return home, a ship hidden away, never dared to show itself. The Skrull Empire remains great—but it has nothing to do with this defeated dog."

Shieler sighed. "Do you remember our original ideal when the Skrull Empire was founded?"

"Later, we learned all races, upon entering the cosmos, set their ideal as spreading their own civilization. But Skrulls were different. When we achieved such greatness, we wished to make the entire cosmos more vibrant."

"We traveled endlessly, seeking civilizations worthy of aid, helping them overcome developmental obstacles, guiding them to build their own star systems. We hoped to become gardeners of the cosmos, fathers to all interstellar civilizations…"

Captain America closed his eyes and shook his head. "I've almost forgotten all that."

"We all know how that disaster happened. After centuries of wandering, we found very few promising civilizations. That day, the fleet discovered two: the Kree and the Cotati."

"We intended to choose the more promising one to nurture. We didn't pick the Kree—but they sought to gain everything by force, so they began slaughtering the Cotati and wounded our ambassador."

"They stole our technology, developed weapons and fleets, and waged war against us. Later, it was a Kree spy on the Andromeda homeworld who summoned the planet-devouring monster. Only they had the capability to infiltrate our empire…"

"Making the cosmos vibrant, helping all races flourish—perhaps it was just our fantasy," Captain America said, shaking his head. "Interstellar society isn't a picnic table—it's an arena. Every civilization evolved fangs and claws solely to destroy others. Between civilizations, there is no mercy."

"Those ideals were nothing but unrealistic dreams of weak beings clinging to the surface. In the cosmos, only one truth remains eternal: survival of the fittest."

"Is that how you truly feel, Barak?" Shieler looked into Captain America's eyes. "Back then, you commanded another escort vessel, not the flagship—you didn't know why General Gana split from the others."

Captain America frowned at Shieler. Shieler poured him a glass of water and began his tale slowly.

"After that disaster, the Skrull Empire wandered for centuries. We were all born during the wandering era."

"General Gana was the representative of the New Generation. To them, the idea that the Skrull Empire would continue wandering was unthinkable."

"We had limitless energy cores, a still-functional fleet, and technological superiority over most civilizations. Why not simply plunder those civilized star regions?"

"If we pointed our cannons at their heads, no one could refuse our demands. The New Generation all wanted to do this—but the commander refused. General Gana was deeply dissatisfied."

"Only the elders still clung to our original ideals. The New Generation wanted to be pirates," Shieler shook his head. "Frankly, I don't agree with the New Generation's ideology—they only see immediate gains."

"Directly plundering resources is indeed the quickest way to survive hardship. But if the new generation never learns to build a home from scratch—if they come to believe plunder and destruction are the shortcuts to power, and conquest equals greatness—then one day, they will pay the price."

"The wise among the Skrulls saw this clearly. They refused to change course, fearing we would inevitably face destruction."

"But General Gana's New Generation saw this as stubborn, outdated thinking. They believed they deserved more."

"So the civil war erupted. But our general had no right to fight—he was merely a newcomer."

"Tragically, the war consumed our last viable forces, leaving everyone exhausted and disillusioned. In that moment, Gana used his charismatic speeches and threats of violence to take—or rather, steal—a fleet."

"He claimed he would lead a group to find the Promised Land, where the great Skrull Empire would be revived. They followed him, believing he could fulfill his promises."

Captain America sneered. "Promised Land? Prophecy of revival? Just a trick he invented to deceive people!"

"Talos saw through him long ago—that's why he chose to break ties and live quietly, refusing to participate in his madness."

Captain America took a deep breath. "Perhaps Talos had already given up. He no longer believed in reviving our nation, no longer saw himself as a Skrull. He might have wished to become truly human…"

"But you're different, aren't you?" Shieler looked into Captain America's eyes, seeing a soul unlike Steve Rogers's, yet strangely similar—different race, different experiences, both weathered yet still bright.

"I was born aboard a starship, wandering with the fleet. When I first set foot on Earth, I was stunned by the beauty of the legendary cosmic greenhouse."

"But I have always been a Skrull—a Skrull soldier. Protecting my nation, my race, my civilization is my inescapable duty."

"Therefore, I will never abandon my identity or my past like Talos, rooting myself in this greenhouse as a sapling. This is not my soil."

"Nor do I support what Gana is doing now. He is not reviving the Skrull Empire—he is leading everyone to destruction."

Captain America shook his head, gripping the hospital bed's railing tightly. "So many unforeseen circumstances still haven't made him realize—humanity is not a race that can be predicted!"

"They've held this beautiful planet for so long not through luck, but through their chaos and madness!"

"That sense of smooth progress? Just arrogant illusions. He said if even this minor injury makes you retreat, then you deserve to die on the battlefield."

"But it's not this minor injury that makes me retreat—even if I truly die on the battlefield, I will never follow his orders to die in an invasion war that is neither honorable nor hopeful."