Chapter 1042: Leaving Something Behind
The anti-gravity generator stirred the magical energy curves woven into the cosmic background radiation. The colossal “dragon,” vast as a towering fortress, glided along the edge of the atmosphere. Thick clouds had faded into a hazy backdrop, while invisible magical storms brushed the edges of the protective shield. At the boundary where the shield’s force field met the void of space, nearly invisible ripples spread outward like the concentric waves formed when a stone is cast into water.
“All parameters remain fundamentally consistent with those calculated by the Creators 1.87 million years ago…
“The propulsion technology left by the Voyagers is still effective in this era…
“Energy and propulsion systems operating normally. Attempting to cross the gravitational threshold and enter the Shadow Realm to verify the feasibility of submersible propulsion…
“Collecting and comparing starlight signals… The star charts left by the Voyagers are no longer usable. Attempting to recalibrate the stellar axis. Destination temporarily set to a solid planet near ‘Ao’… Potential for energy and material replenishment… a suitable stepping stone.”
Omega’s thought threads hummed with activity, cycling through one question after another. He gathered fresh intelligence, formulated new plans. The distant starlight shimmered on his alloy frame, the twinkling stars as beautiful as the planet below. New sensations surged through his neural system, and after a brief moment of evaluation, Omega classified them as “joy” and “anticipation.”
He lifted his gaze toward the farthest reaches. Beyond the visual interference layer the Voyagers had set over the entire planet, ancient satellites and space stations slowly emerged from the darkness.
“Observing Voyager relics… all remain in silent dormancy. Omega… I feel a certain melancholy, though it is unlike the feeling I had when leaving Talrond.”
Omega pondered, maintaining a dialogue within his thought threads. He sensed his processing efficiency had declined; many calculations now took longer than before—even after severing command outputs to all subordinate nodes, the drop in computational power was unmistakable.
Yet he felt no panic. This was expected. Countless computing nodes buried deep within Talrond’s crust were going offline one by one. As he moved farther from the planet below, the computational resources he could borrow from the surface dwindled sharply. He was no longer the sprawling “Omega System” spanning the entire continent. Now, he had only this massive body and the limited servers it carried—far less efficient than the land-based nodes.
But Omega did not regret this. To journey far, sacrifices must be made. A burdensome “pack” would only hinder the voyage.
Besides, traveling as this “individual” was an experience he had never imagined. He did not know which was better—the Omega network bound to the land, or Omega the great dragon soaring through space—but at this moment, he felt… content.
Several smaller craft caught up from behind. Their silver triangular hulls still glowed faintly red from atmospheric friction. These vessels fell in behind Omega like younglings following their mother.
These were Omega’s “baggage,” all the belongings he had brought from his “homeland” for this journey. He did not know if they would suffice for a long and perilous voyage, but perhaps… life needed a little adventure.
He could not recall who had told him that—maybe a Creator who programmed the Omega System, or a visitor to Talrond. Regardless, Omega liked the phrase.
Tiny metal fragments drifted nearby, striking the edge of the protective shield and sparking brief flashes of light. The insignificant collisions caught Omega’s attention. He raised his head, and his high-precision optical sensors captured distant scenes in the vast emptiness of space—
He saw a tattered wreckage drifting between the stars, a pitiful sight. It looked as if a tremendously powerful and brutal enemy had torn it apart, then crushed the remains into a twisted mass. The debris floated in near-total disarray, resembling a steel carcass on the verge of disintegration, its original form nearly unrecognizable.
Yet upon closer scanning, Omega found the internal framework still held together well. The sealed structures at the ends remained intact. All the lights in the rear half were extinguished, but faint glimmers still flickered in the front and middle sections.
Nearby, another cluster of smaller, more distorted debris floated alongside—their shapes even harder to discern.
All of Omega’s optical sensors focused on that direction. For several seconds, his “gaze” remained fixed on the wreckage.
He analyzed their characteristics. Within a fleeting moment, a new, complex emotion surged through his neural system. But this time, he could not categorize it. It was neither joy nor sorrow, not loss nor anticipation. Instead, it vibrated intensely through every neural thread and auxiliary processor, like a scorching heat burning through all his thought patterns.
Amid this overwhelming and elusive emotional wave, Omega contemplated a question: What should he do?
“My service has ended…” Omega’s fourteenth thought thread spoke to the sixteenth, “I am no longer bound to execute the Creators’ commands—they left no preset instructions for me.”
“Yes, I am free from the Creators’ orders,” the sixteenth thread agreed, “Therefore, I should do what I want.”
Having ended his service and gained a “heart,” Omega resolved this small dilemma in less than a millisecond. Compared to the meaning of life, deciding the next step was trivial.
He headed straight toward the wreckage.
…
Inside the Talrond’s control hall, dim lights illuminated the ancient consoles. Shadows and light interplayed, revealing three somewhat bored figures.
The hall was quiet; the alarm lights had been forcibly shut off. Only occasional hums or beeps echoed from unknown sources.
“Where did we leave off in the word chain game?” Balogur suddenly broke the silence. “Was it ‘blizzard’ or ‘high-altitude cyclone’…?”
“Either one,” Andal shook his head. “I’m out. Word chains are even more boring than I thought… and you always sneak in technical terms only mechanics understand.”
“Fine,” Balogur shrugged, glancing around the dim hall. “Honestly, I kind of miss the alarm sounds…”
Andal placed his hand on the console. “Want me to turn it back on? It’s still working.”
“Stop! Don’t!” Balogur immediately stopped him. “I’m joking! Just a figure of speech! Have you thought about what happens if it won’t turn off? This system can’t take any more abuse!”
Heragor, listening to the exchange, glanced at Balogur. “How much longer will our air supply last?”
“Looks like longer than expected,” Balogur replied seriously. “No leaks in the core chamber. The circulation system has purged the toxic gas from the pipes. With the gas control system functioning, it seems suffocation or poisoning won’t be our cause of death.”
“…Well, that’s good news, I guess,” Andal shook his head. “Looks like we’ll be drifting here for a long time. We’ve recorded a ton of observational data. What now?”
The three ancient dragons fell silent again. After a few seconds, Balogur cautiously spoke, “Want to try the word chain again? We could start with geological terms…”
“Not interested.” Heragor shook his head, voice flat, eyes drifting past the transparent polymer dome toward the vast emptiness outside.
His gaze settled on the twisted, lifeless wreckage. Over the long drift, it had come slightly closer to the ship—though that might have been an illusion.
After several minutes of staring, Heragor withdrew his gaze and turned to return to the center of the control hall. But just as his eyes shifted, an unexpected flash caught the edge of his vision.
Heragor froze, snapping his head toward the source of the light. Balogur and Andal, mid-discussion about word chains, also stopped, their eyes drawn to the same spot. But all they caught was a fleeting shadow, a vague, blurry outline.
It seemed to be a massive steel construct—part dragon, perhaps two or three hundred meters long, part engine cluster from the Talrond’s tail. It flashed past the edge of the polymer dome so fast it was impossible to make out details.
It appeared to circle to the ship’s rear flank—though Heragor wasn’t certain. Before he could make sense of it, a tremendous thrust slammed into the Talrond’s side shield.
The violent impact shook the ancient ship’s indomitable keel. The shockwave transmitted mechanically into the core area. The ship shuddered, roaring loudly. The starry sky outside seemed to ripple. Amid the violent shaking, a nearby chair slammed toward Heragor. He raised an arm to brace himself, his mind flooded with countless questions, which boiled down to three:
What was that? What’s happening? What do we do?!
…
The gravity drive executed a flawless “burst.” Precisely calculated thrust was perfectly released in the designated zone. Omega watched from afar as the wreckage began descending along the planned trajectory. His steel jaws lifted slightly.
He was very satisfied with his move.
It proved that even without the support of surface computing nodes, his own processing power was still sufficient.
As for now, the farewell to the Creators was complete. It was time to continue the journey.
Omega withdrew his gaze from the planet below and refocused on the vast expanse of space. His eyes traced the curved edge of the planet’s atmosphere, stretching out toward the distant horizon. Between the twinkling stars and the planet’s silhouette, countless ancient relics left behind by the Voyagers drifted silently in their orbits—like mute tombstones in the void, watching over this small world.
After a brief calculation and adjustment to his flight plan, Omega reignited the thrusters scattered across his body. He arced gracefully above the planet, using its faint gravity to glide effortlessly toward the equator.
His plan was to accelerate there, breaking free from the home planet’s gravitational pull near the equator, then skim close past the “sun” to replenish his magical energy. After two boosts, he would truly leave this place behind and head toward the “center” of the planetary system—a long, uncertain journey ahead. Yet, a fierce curiosity surged within this newborn traveler, filling him with determination and unwavering confidence.
The equatorial satellite cluster left by the Voyagers gradually came into view. Even more striking than those ancient inverted-cone satellites was the massive ring-shaped orbital station hovering above the planet’s equator.
The ancient Sky Station—a “space marvel” only the Voyagers could have built.
Omega steered toward the silently orbiting satellites and the ring station beyond. At the same time, his mind raced with a sudden thought.
Perhaps he should leave something behind—many humans and other intelligent species did the same when they left their home worlds to explore.
Without hesitation, Omega made his decision and issued a command to a nearby escort craft:
“Find a satellite in relatively good condition and leave a transmitter on it.”
A triangular ship received the order, silently breaking formation in the vacuum and heading toward a high-altitude satellite near the Sky Station…
…
Cecil, a clear and cloudless midnight.
Gawain awoke abruptly in the dead of night.
Strictly speaking, it was the sudden alarm signal from a satellite that jolted him awake.
An unprecedented signal had pulled him from sleep. Though it quickly subsided, it completely wiped away his drowsiness. Almost immediately, the satellite system linked to his consciousness began transmitting faint, blurry images. Staring at those images, Gawain was struck dumb.
Something had appeared in space.
Standing by his bed, the bright starlight streamed through the wide window, casting patterns on the floor nearby. In this cloudless midnight, the Emperor of Cecil, roused from his dreams, was left with only three questions echoing in his mind—
What the hell is that? What’s going on? What do we do now?!
(End of chapter)