Chapter 1428: Before Facing the Stars

The vast sea of stars stretched endlessly, immense and boundless. Among the countless stars lay infinite possibilities, yet the surrounding darkness concealed them all. As a planetary civilization still bound by gravity, mortals could only gaze upward with imagination and speculation, trying to guess what lay beyond that starry expanse. In such a context, every message received from the depths of the starry sea stirred the hearts of those who looked up in wonder.

The sun was slowly sinking toward the horizon. In the deep autumn, daylight had already begun to wane. The festive atmosphere of Victory Day celebrations still lingered in the city, with crowds moving through the streets and vendors selling commemorative souvenirs. Street lamps flickered on one by one in the distance, while the darkening sky revealed faint twinkles of stars.

The constellation Frostsky had yet to appear—but it was there, just beyond sight.

Gawain stood by the study’s floor-to-ceiling window, staring absently at the faint points of starlight emerging in the sky. His expression was more serious than usual. Amber’s voice came from beside him: “You seem really concerned about this…”

“There’s a civilization out there capable of sending faster-than-light communications, and they’ve just turned their gaze toward us,” Gawain said without turning around, his voice calm but firm. “For a civilization that has only just begun to notice the stars above but lacks the means to truly venture into space, living in this world feels like wandering through a night shrouded in darkness. We can’t be sure what lurks in the shadows around us, nor can we tell if any fellow travelers nearby are friend or foe. We’ve become aware of the night, but we don’t yet have the power to light a fire and drive it away. That’s the most nerve-wracking stage.”

“Over the years, we’ve come to know that at least one figure walks alongside us in this darkness,” he continued. “This figure carries a torch but hasn’t noticed us hiding in the shadows. Suddenly, it seems they’ve sensed others nearby and are now peering toward where we’re concealed… I think you understand that feeling.”

Amber shivered. “Yeah, I get it. It’s like sneaking around and suddenly getting kicked out into the open. Just thinking about it makes me jump.”

“Wanting a companion in the dark but feeling tense and wary when one actually appears,” Gawain sighed softly. “The starry sea is just too vast, filled with too many unknowns.”

Amber pondered for a moment. “But on the other hand, in a way, we’re the ones holding the advantage. After all, it’s been us who knew about ‘them’ all along, while ‘they’ didn’t even know we existed. Even now, that alien civilization sending signals seems unsure if ‘Unknown Civilization Alpha’ is real. We’re the ones hiding in the shadows… Usually, that’s the side that should be more nervous.”

“True, that’s a possibility,” Gawain admitted slowly, then furrowed his brow in puzzlement. “Sometimes I wonder if that civilization really is more advanced than us. If their signal isn’t a trap, then their behavior seems reckless and immature. But if it is a trap… a civilization capable of faster-than-light communication should also be able to perform high-precision deep-space scans. The Sea Witch mentioned that deep-space scanning is a prerequisite for FTL communication. So they can’t possibly be unaware of us.”

Amber nodded seriously. “You did say different civilizations might have completely different ‘tech trees.’ Maybe they skipped that tech branch. Maybe they found a development path unlike the Sea Witch’s, so they never unlocked deep-space scanning.”

Gawain gave her a strange look. “Honestly, after hearing you spout all these ‘technical terms’ every day, do you really understand what they mean?”

Amber puffed up her chest. “I get some of it! But I’m good at making educated guesses and connecting the dots…”

Gawain thought that her ability to bluff convincingly while only half-understanding was quite a talent.

Thanks to Amber’s interruption, Gawain felt his tension ease a bit. He exhaled softly and glanced outside. The sun had fully dipped below the horizon, leaving only a faint red glow lingering over the city. The starlight grew clearer, and the first points of Frostsky began to emerge in the night sky—the appointed time for the meeting was near.

He gathered his thoughts and turned to Amber. “Keep watch for me later.”

Amber slapped her chest confidently. “Got it. I’m on it.”

…

Inside the neural network’s specially encrypted space, a boundless white flower field suddenly stirred as a gentle breeze swept through. The wind transformed the sea of blossoms into a white round table surrounded by several ornate chairs. One by one, figures materialized around the table.

First was Gawain, followed by the serious and slender Rosetta Augustus. Then, a dazzling light appeared, and a tall, beautiful blonde woman stepped out from the glow—it was Belsethia Morningstar.

Normally, Gawain would hold such remote meetings via conventional holograms, but this time was different. He had chosen the “White Flower Field” within the neural network as the meeting place. Even before the Wasteland War, the Cecil standard communication network had been established within Typhon and the Silver Empire. Though still in its infancy, places like the Obsidian Palace and the Elven Court were equipped with full magical communication devices, including magic network terminals and immersion pods.

Still, usage varied. Rosetta, upon entering the network space, seemed somewhat unsettled. The Typhon ruler looked down at his default avatar body, clenched his fists, and muttered softly, “…This technology is truly incredible. To simulate reality to this degree…”

He then looked up and greeted Gawain and the Silver Empress with proper decorum.

“Welcome to this flower field,” Gawain nodded to Rosetta and Belsethia. “I prepared this encrypted space specifically for this special meeting. This is our first time meeting like this, but as you can see, it’s almost as real as the physical world. No extra adjustment needed—just treat it as if we were meeting in person.”

“I find this even more convenient than the real world,” Belsethia smiled as she sat down and tapped the table. A delicate tea set appeared before her. “You can’t do this in reality.”

Rosetta glanced at the Silver Empress in surprise, but before he could ask, Gawain looked at her with mild astonishment. “You seem pretty skilled at this.”

“I’ve always been interested in new technology,” Belsethia replied with a smile. “Though the Silver Empire has only a few immersion pods and the network is still new, my court and I have begun studying how to use it efficiently. Speaking of which, the network outages during the war were really frustrating.”

She glanced at Rosetta. “Augustus, don’t you use it much? Typhon’s network connection with Cecil should be much better than ours.”

“I’ve only used it once or twice,” Rosetta said with a stern face. “I don’t have much time for it. But Matilda and Hadrian seem to use it often—I’ve seen them.”

He then turned to Gawain, who had called the meeting. “Let’s get to the point. Why contact us suddenly, and why choose such an unusual meeting format?”

“It’s related to the ‘Starry Sea Signal’ we’ve been receiving,” Gawain nodded. “We recently decoded some disturbing content from the signal. But the full details will have to wait until the other participants arrive. That’s also why I chose this neural network space—because of these special attendees.”

“Special attendees?” Belsethia frowned, sensing something. Just as she spoke, a shimmering light screen appeared beside the table. Vines and blossoms rapidly grew and coalesced within the glowing projection, and from it stepped a composed, elderly elf.

Belsethia looked puzzled at first, but then recognition dawned on her face. “You…”

“I’m here for the meeting,” Amon said with a gentle smile, nodding to Belsethia. “You can just call me Amon, or by my code name in the Theocracy Council—‘Mr. Stag.’”

“Uh…” Belsethia’s gaze involuntarily flicked to the letters “High-Speed Stag” hovering above the elf’s head. She forced herself to suppress her curiosity. “Alright, Lord Amon…”

Rosetta also realized who this attendee was. Though he knew about the senior advisors of the Theocracy Council and that these “former gods” now worked and lived alongside mortals, seeing the embodiment of the Nature God in this near-realistic network space was another matter entirely. Especially with the “High-Speed Stag” title floating above his head, the usually composed Typhon Emperor showed a flicker of surprise. “The Nature God… This means the matter is truly serious.”

“Is it just you?” Gawain glanced behind Amon, noticing no one else had arrived. “Where are Lady Mimirna and Lady Enya?”

“They’re busy with some research,” Amon shrugged. “They said they’d join later.”

“Research, huh… Alright, we won’t wait for them then,” Gawain nodded. After Amon took his seat, Gawain turned to Rosetta and Belsethia. “I want to show you something first.”

A holographic document appeared before him. As it solidified, he split it in two and sent copies to the two rulers.

Rosetta’s eyes scanned the document quickly, his expression growing grave.

“As you can see, the civilization that’s been sending signals outward has suddenly… changed,” Gawain said in a low voice. “They’ve abandoned their previous aimless broadcasts and instead sent a clear message of intent. They’re deliberately calling out to ‘Unknown Civilization Alpha’ and hoping for a response. This has never happened before.”

“…Is this ‘Unknown Civilization Alpha’ us?” Belsethia looked up from the document, her eyes burning with intensity as she stared at Gawain.

“Not sure,” Gawain shook his head. “With our current technology, we can’t tell if this signal is actually directed at us or just another broad broadcast like usual. We can’t even confirm whether the sender has locked onto our planet’s coordinates.”

“So we can’t rule out the possibility it’s a trap,” Rosetta said slowly, stroking her ring as she pondered. “They might not even know where we are, or if anyone exists within their broadcast range. Maybe they’re trying to get us to ‘make a sound’ first.”

“The message mentions the Voyagers… and keywords like ‘twinkling stars,’” Belsethia chimed in, focusing on another crucial detail. “There’s a huge amount of information packed in here.”

“It turns out the Voyagers really did leave traces on more than one planet,” Gawain nodded, having noticed that detail as well. “We can boldly infer that the civilization sending this message lives on a world the Voyagers once visited—and whatever the Voyagers left behind there has had a profound impact on them. Judging by the content, this sender civilization’s understanding of the Voyagers and the ‘twinkling stars’ is far deeper and clearer than ours.”

Rosetta’s brow furrowed deeply. Never before had his mind been so overwhelmed with such complex, chaotic, and intense thoughts. This sudden problem was unprecedented, beyond anything he’d ever faced. In fact, aside from Gawain, no one on site had probably imagined they’d one day confront the issue of “communicating with an alien civilization.” Yet he maintained his composure and reason, and after a moment, spoke carefully: “Whether this message is a trap or not, the sender clearly holds some extremely important secret. The twinkling stars and cycles… frankly, it brings to mind the Reckoning.”

Whether or not the alien civilization was fishing for a response, at least the “bait” was real. That was the fact facing the three imperial rulers.

But it wasn’t enough to make them act rashly.

“The most critical question now is whether this civilization means us harm or goodwill,” Rosetta continued. “They do express a desire for friendly communication and mutual aid in their message, but honestly, I’m not ready to trust that—there are still so many things on our own planet that make trust difficult, let alone an alien world millions of kilometers away.”

“And even if the message is entirely truthful and their attitude sincere, we still need to proceed with caution,” Gawain added. “Alien civilizations… unlike the different species on our planet, may have completely different ways of thinking, standards of judgment, even fundamentally different cognitive organs. Their ‘goodwill’ might not be goodwill to us, and their ‘hostility’ might not actually harm us. What if they see devouring a friend’s life as a virtue, or friendly greetings as a declaration of war? We just can’t be sure.”

(End of chapter)