Chapter 1384: Echoes

Sir Scott Prandin, director of the Viplanton Observatory—and, as it turned out, its final director—was a name Gawain knew well. He had heard fragments about this ancient man from Gondor through Diana, the former observatory guard. It was Sir Scott who, in the last desperate moments, had ordered Diana to abandon her post and flee northward. For this iron soldier, whose memories were shattered and scattered, Sir Scott Prandin’s image was one of the few that remained vivid.

There was no way she could be mistaken now.

A flicker stirred in Gawain’s mind, and instinctively he stepped closer to the shimmering apparition—partly to confirm its form, partly to shield Diana. After all, this phantom had lingered here for who knew how many years; its mental state was unknown. When Kamail was first discovered, it had also gone through a chaotic phase of indiscriminate attacks.

As Gawain approached, the hazy glow shifted again. The tall, indistinct figure at its center seemed to awaken from stillness, and a voice, cold and mechanical, echoed out: “Gate opening detected… preset contact identified… Senior Guard Diana… initiating protocol, commencing playback of recorded data.”

With those words, the misty light contracted, and the figure at its core became clearer—Sir Scott Prandin’s hologram stood there, his gaze fixed not on anyone present but beyond Diana, as if looking at a target long gone: “Diana, it’s been a long time… I don’t know how much time has passed outside since you see this message, but if you can see it, then you truly have returned here. Among the many possibilities Alphonse and I considered, the greatest miracle has occurred—you have opened the observatory’s gates…”

“This is just a recorded image,” Amber whispered, catching on, “I thought it would be like Kamail back then…”

Diana seemed not to hear Amber’s quiet muttering. She stared at the apparition, instinctively whispering, “Sir Scott…”

But she said no more. This was merely a recording left behind long ago; it would not answer her. The real Sir Scott had likely been gone from this world for many years.

All she wanted to know was what message her former master had left for her here—whether it had anything to do with the memories she had lost due to malfunction.

After a moment, the hologram broke the silence. Sir Scott’s eyes remained fixed ahead, his tone calm, as if reminiscing: “You must be surprised that anyone survived the disaster here at the observatory… In truth, it surprised me as well. An ancient artifact, stored in the upper-level vault at the time, miraculously absorbed part of the terrible energy surge. Though only partially, it was enough to save a few lives inside.

“That artifact was part of the Viplanton meteor shower—what people call ‘extraterrestrial objects.’ Unfortunately, mortal wisdom still falls short of unraveling its secrets. Alphonse and I studied it for years but never understood its mechanism or control. All we could do was channel the immense energy it released and, with our limited knowledge, build a small sanctuary within this hellish inferno to survive as long as possible…

“That thing now rests at the heart of the sanctuary. You will see it soon. By the time you watch this message, we no longer need it. I don’t know what the world outside is like now—has the earth healed? Has civilization been restored? These questions no longer hold meaning for me. But since you have returned, I hope things have improved…

“Diana, when I decided to leave this message, twenty years had passed since the disaster.

“At the disaster’s onset, six people survived here. Mark and Melsana lasted less than a month—they were consumed by lethal magic, their bodies grotesquely transformed. We had to end their suffering early. Yuliven died the following year; he couldn’t endure the transformation ritual, and as flesh and blood, he couldn’t survive this ordeal. Baylo held on the longest—until three years ago. Now… only Alphonse and I remain. Years ago, we transformed ourselves into spellbound flesh puppets, so that before our physical forms decayed, we could continue to function. You know the Empire forbids such dark magic—but what does it matter now?

“Even so, our time is limited. Alphonse and I can feel our souls decaying within these shells. Perhaps… it’s time to leave something behind.

“Diana, we don’t know if you will truly return, or if you, as an ‘Iron Man,’ can find your footing in the wild northern city-states and closed kingdoms. We don’t even know if any nation survived this catastrophe. Yet we decided to leave all this for you—our research from the past twenty years. And you… may be the only ‘person’ capable of understanding its meaning.

“We cracked the signal.

“Diana, do you remember that signal? The one that began appearing in our skies years ago, flashing frequently at night, lighting up the stars with strange codes, conveying messages to us… We now know what it is.”

As Sir Scott spoke, Gawain’s heart skipped a beat. A signal transmitted among the stars, encoded in a wondrous way—he suddenly realized something. At that moment, the hologram stepped back slightly, spreading his hands to trace invisible lines in the air. Then an image appeared before Diana.

Dots, radiating connecting lines, circles—this was the pattern stored in Diana’s mental core, the same pattern carved on the wall of the observatory’s main hall!

“This was the first content we received, and the one repeated most often over the years,” Sir Scott’s deep voice echoed across the platform. “We tried to understand what this pattern meant. We boldly guessed it might be a blueprint, a religious symbol, or some mystical sign—but we were wrong. It wasn’t until Alphonse opened a rift here in the sanctuary, using the extraterrestrial artifact’s power to observe a clearer view of a specific starfield, that we finally understood its true meaning. Diana, this pattern… it’s a ‘map,’ a map among the stars.

“Perhaps we should call it a ‘star chart’? Alphonse came up with that name. It marks a star—right at the intersection of these lines. Did you notice? Each dot at the end of a line represents a star flickering at the C-26 standard frequency. And this ring… it encircles the unique focal point of these radiating lines, representing something artificial—perhaps a marker, a ‘signature’ of identity…

“And the entire pattern conveys one message: we are here!”

The hologram spread his arms, smiling as if proclaiming to the world. Though separated by seven centuries from Gawain, Diana, and the others, and though he left this message in despair while the world outside crumbled, a fierce flame seemed to burn within him—its heat piercing through seven hundred years, scorching Gawain’s face.

“They are there! Right at the focal points of those stars!” Sir Scott declared, emphasizing the truth. “Diana, this signal comes from among the stars. Just as we boldly speculated at an anniversary feast—Alphonse biting into roasted meat, you changing the alchemical oil on your brass core, Baylo drunkenly standing and saying, ‘Perhaps we are not alone in this universe’…

“We are not alone! Diana, once we understood this image’s meaning, Alphonse, Baylo, and I were filled with great passion. Though the world outside was falling apart, civilization seemingly lost, within this small sanctuary we found work worthy of star scholars. And this was all we could do here—decipher every signal the Viplanton Observatory received between 1730 and 1740 of the Second Age!”

The hologram’s voice rose as he raised a hand. A shimmering screen appeared beside him, filled with countless points and lines, extending and connecting before Gawain and the others. They formed basic geometric shapes, mathematical symbols, and formulas—the same coded patterns the Thorin and Winter hubs had received repeatedly, confirmed by Dragon God Enya herself as “greetings” from the stars.

“This is their ‘introduction,’ their identification transmitted among the stars. Using mathematics—the universal language—they declare to any civilization capable of receiving the signal that they are intelligent beings, capable of logical thought and mathematical communication…”

Then Sir Scott raised his other hand, and a second screen appeared, filled with intricate characters unlike any script on the continent of Loren.

“These are their written words, a ‘letter’ sent in an attempt to communicate with other civilizations. When we first received this part of the signal and converted it into images, we suspected this. But for a long time, we had no way to decipher an unknown ‘alphabet’ from strangers. Coupled with the observatory’s heavy workload, research on the extraterrestrial artifact, and recent cutbacks and talent transfers in the imperial capital’s research sectors, we lacked the resources to focus on these mysterious alien symbols. But now, with ample time, Alphonse and I finally uncovered their secrets within the vast records…

“They are self-explanatory. Each geometric figure’s transmission and conclusion carries a ‘stamp’ corresponding to a text description. Basic mathematical symbols, numbers, and operations have annotations. Moreover, the script itself has a degree of ‘self-interpretation.’ With enough samples and time, a skilled linguist can gradually deduce their meanings. Combining these methods, we cracked half the information and slowly inferred the rest.

“I am no great linguist, but Baylo was. He completed seventy percent of the deciphering. After his death, Alphonse and I finished the rest…”

“Unfortunately, even if we manage to decode these messages from an alien star system, we still don’t know how to establish contact with the civilization that sent them. We don’t understand the principles behind how signals travel across the stars. With the observatory’s current limited capabilities, the only thing Alphonse and I can be certain of is that by the time the signal reaches our planet, it has already undergone a ‘secondary transformation.’

“This process is complicated to explain, but to put it simply: some high-energy, high-velocity wave crosses the vast cosmic ocean to reach our world, where it interacts with the planet’s magical environment. The waves released after this reaction are what the observatory’s detection system actually records. This method of transmission might have been deliberately designed with lower-level civilizations’ ‘reception abilities’ in mind—because a civilization like ours probably can’t capture the signal’s ‘original pulse.’ Correspondingly, sending a signal capable of swiftly traversing the stars is extraordinarily difficult…

“Of course, given the current situation, even if we understood the principles behind the signal’s transmission, it wouldn’t matter. Most of the observatory’s functions have ceased, and outside, there’s only a terrifying purgatory twisted by chaotic magic. We tried reaching out to other stations, and after fortifying ourselves, attempted to explore further afield—but all in vain. No responses, no survivors… We have confirmed the collapse of the civilized world. Under these circumstances, the knowledge we possess… is likely meaningless.

“Yet Alphonse and I still hold onto hope, because we are certain you will escape safely—and one day, you will return here with new companions. In fact, during one exploration, we found signs of personnel and violently destroyed facilities at Warehouse No. 2, northwest of Viplandon. This means at least one group of survivors passed through here and fled north…

“We are deeply trapped in this corrupted land, barely surviving by relying on this small sanctuary. Leaving the observatory means certain death. But the traces of those survivors keep Alphonse and me hopeful. We choose to believe in… the resilience of civilization.

“Diana, it’s now the twentieth year since the observatory was sealed. After leaving this recording, Alphonse and I will leave this sanctuary one last time. We will inscribe the ‘star map’ on the most prominent wall in the observatory’s lower level, then return here, close the doors, and never leave again. From now on, Alphonse and I will keep company with the stars above, quietly awaiting the final moment.

“Perhaps the next time someone comes here, no one will understand the meaning of the star map in the main hall. It’s even possible that until this observatory is completely destroyed, no one will ever visit these ruins again. But we believe knowledge is always valuable. Even if civilization falls, even if the last intelligent life closes its eyes beneath the stars, knowledge—as the footprints of civilization’s quest into the unknown—will always hold meaning.

“Goodbye, Diana. Perhaps it’s too late to say this after all these years, something I never got the chance to tell you back then—you have honorably completed your service. Now, your shift is over.”

(End of chapter)