Chapter 1511: Glances and Coordination

Amber stood nervously by Gawain’s desk, still mulling over the strange dream she’d had the night before. She stole glances at his face, noticing his brow furrow slowly, his expression turning serious and contemplative. She saw him tap his fingers lightly on the armrest—a habitual gesture he made when deep in thought.

Amber knew Gawain was communicating with the Sky Station. She was aware of what was up there, including the joint engineering team led by Nicholas “Egghead” currently working on repairs. So… was something wrong at the Sky Station?

After a few minutes of wild speculation, she noticed Gawain shift his posture. He snapped out of his trance and looked directly at her—she knew he was “back.” Curiosity got the better of her. “Hey, what’s going on with the Sky Station…”

“Ahem,” Gawain interrupted with a couple of coughs, then gave her a strange look. “You said last night you dreamed about using a shadow rift like a slingshot to break some glass, right? Do you remember whose glass you broke?”

Amber’s eyes flickered oddly. She sized him up twice, uncertain. “Did you also pick up random stuff off the street and eat it or something?”

“I’m serious!” Gawain’s brief embarrassment vanished as he forced a stern expression. “Do you remember the details of that weird dream? Especially the part with the slingshot—every little detail matters.”

Amber was taken aback by his seriousness and quickly stopped joking around. She focused, trying to recall the dream clearly, and described it carefully: “The clearest part was standing in a pitch-black place, surrounded by huge, shifting, distorted shapes—kind of like the view we had when we were on the Sentinel cruiser. Then there was this shimmering, translucent barrier in front of me, like crystal…”

She frowned, struggling to remember. “I can’t recall what was inside that ‘crystal’ clearly, just that it was bright and beautiful, like a really nice place I’d seen before. Somehow, I had a shadow rift in my hand, and before I knew it, I broke through that barrier… After that, I don’t remember what happened.”

Gawain frowned in confusion. “But you said it was a very clear, lucid dream. How come you can’t remember so many details?”

“I don’t remember now, but it was clear when I was dreaming. That doesn’t contradict anything!” Amber put her hands on her hips, arguing confidently. “I’m sure I was lucid in the dream, but the memories seem to have been scrambled or overwritten by something as soon as I woke up. That’s why it feels off… Oh! And there’s one more thing. Even though I don’t remember the ending, I do remember a feeling…”

“A feeling?” Gawain raised an eyebrow.

“Joy. Pure joy,” Amber said firmly. “Like finally doing something I’d always wanted to do but couldn’t, or decisively solving a long-standing problem. Even if I can’t recall the details, I remember feeling incredibly happy.”

Gawain’s expression shifted, a hint of suspicion in his eyes as he looked her up and down. “Something you always wanted to do but couldn’t… Were you off bullying guys or picking on the weak again?”

“Do I look like that kind of person to you?” Amber glared. “I’ve always been someone who helps others and stands up for justice. Even if I use a little violence sometimes, it’s always for a good cause. You can ask the Intelligence Bureau—they’re the ones I beat up the hardest back then, and even they’re grateful now.”

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” Gawain waved his hand quickly, sensing her irritation. Then he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Anyway, the timing matches up, and the dream might reveal some real events—though it’s hard to say how much is accurate and how much is distorted illusion…”

“What are you mumbling about?” Amber was puzzled. “You still haven’t told me—what did the Sky Station report? Is it related to the anchor generator? Could it really be Lady Night acting up?”

Gawain met Amber’s gaze, nodding slowly and seriously. “You guessed right. The anchor generator showed abnormal activity last night—on a large scale. Several rings were affected. The timing matches your dream exactly. It’s almost certain Lady Night is making a big move… But so far, there are no reports from the real world. What you saw in the dream might be our only clue.”

Hearing Gawain’s grave tone, even usually carefree Amber grew serious. But her resolve faded quickly when she remembered that the “only clue pointing to Lady Night” was “breaking glass with a slingshot in a dream.” Her enthusiasm drained instantly.

Gawain knew this too, but he was used to dealing with eccentric people like Amber. No matter how absurd the clues, he could always steer the analysis in a serious direction. “The anchor generator’s abnormality means it’s drawing massive energy from several rings to maintain a ‘high power state.’ This goes beyond automatic system limits, so it’s definitely Lady Night manually controlling it…”

Amber frowned. “Why would she gather so much energy? She can’t be planning to fight the gods, right?”

She said it jokingly, but Gawain looked at her seriously and asked, “Why not?”

“Uh…”

“Lady Night is preparing a grand coming-of-age ceremony for the mortal world. And no matter how you interpret ‘coming-of-age,’ it inevitably involves the gods,” Gawain’s mind raced, piecing together clues into a bold theory. He wasn’t shy about making daring guesses. “You saw yourself using a shadow rift to… ‘attack’ something in the dream. That’s symbolic. It might mean Lady Night is ‘striking’ something too.

“Combine that with her sudden massive energy draw and manual overclocking of the anchor generator… What else in this world could justify such a dramatic move by an ancient god? When she tore apart the Rebellion, she did it quietly!”

Amber listened, stunned. After a long pause, she finally asked, “…What’s ‘quietly’?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just think of it as ‘effortlessly,’” Gawain waved it off. He often threw around strange terms with Amber, forgetting she was a local and sometimes slipped into jargon. “Anyway, the chance Lady Night is acting against the gods is very high.

“Of course, as I said before, she probably won’t just sweep the gods away like the original Voyagers did. Our civilization today is very different from 1.87 million years ago. The gods are still rational, and mortal nations are managing the Mind Seals through the ‘Divine Council.’ Brutal methods would only make things worse, maybe even ruin everything. Lady Night is a rational ancient god; she wouldn’t do that.

“So she’s likely using some kind of ‘controlled’ intervention. But I don’t know how or why exactly.

“With the limited clues we have, that’s all I can analyze.”

Gawain’s modesty aside, Amber was amazed. To reach this point with so little information, so many distractions, and in such a short time required not just analytical skill but a free-flowing mind and bold imagination.

“You’ve analyzed enough already,” Amber said instinctively, then grew curious. “But… can an ‘alien god’ really interfere with other gods? I thought gods are ‘projections of thought currents’ and inherently isolated. If a god interacts with an alien god, they’d immediately suffer mental deterioration.”

“Exactly why I think that’s why she’s driving the anchor generator and drawing all that energy,” Gawain mused. “To this day, we don’t fully understand the anchor generator’s principles or purpose. We only know it’s what allows Lady Night to exist stably without any faith supporting her, while maintaining great power. And if we take that further, the term ‘anchor’ could mean it even changes Lady Night’s ‘essence,’ letting her partially transcend the gods’ natural laws.

“After all, even these ‘laws’ are just rules we’ve compiled based on our knowledge. The Voyagers’ technology is far beyond what we gravity-bound beings can comprehend.”

Amber pondered this quietly. When Gawain finished, she asked, “If what you say is true, what should we do? Wait and see? I don’t think Lady Night needs our help.”

“Maybe she doesn’t, but others might,” Gawain interrupted, thinking quickly. “Notify the Divine Council and the Arcane Technology Department. We need to deploy all anti-divine barriers at maximum power—take everything from storage and install them in the headquarters cathedrals of the major churches.”

Amber nodded absentmindedly, then suddenly froze, eyes wide. “What? You want to put anti-divine barriers right inside the main cathedrals of the major sects? Aren’t you basically putting a muzzle on their gods in front of the archbishops?”

“They’re the gods’ own will—what can you do? Remember, even Myrmeena once volunteered to crawl into a sack herself,” Gavain said casually, waving his hand dismissively. But then he added, “Besides, I never asked them to cover the entire cathedral with anti-divinity barriers. Even if they agreed, we might not have enough barriers in stock. Just pick a spot inside each cathedral, somewhere close to the sacred icon, and set up the barrier there. Even if it’s just a single room or a corner, the key is to leave a kind of ‘window’ open.”

“A window…” Amber’s eyes flickered with a hint of understanding. This sounded like a wild but oddly sensible plan—very much in line with the unconventional style of this pioneering old master. “And then?”

“Then leave a note inside the barrier’s range—if a note feels too casual, carve it onto a stone tablet. Ultimately, the local church leader decides,” Gavain said offhandedly. “It just needs to say one thing: if the Lady of Night ever visits, please respond to her from the mortal world, if possible.”

He paused thoughtfully, then added, “Of course, the exact wording can be adjusted by the local clergy, as long as the general meaning stays the same.”

“Finally, and most importantly, after setting all this up, keep unauthorized people away from the areas protected by the anti-divinity barriers. Only remote monitoring should be used—that’s a necessary security measure.”

Amber listened carefully, though some doubt lingered in her eyes. “Are you sure this will work? Just leaving a message for the gods like that?”

“I’ve thought it through,” Gavain replied. “The gods can’t easily send messages to us because their presence carries uncontrollable spiritual interference. But the reverse isn’t as restricted. Haven’t the faithful been sending all kinds of messy prayers to the gods forever?” He spread his hands. “As long as it doesn’t directly contradict doctrine, the act of mortals sending messages to the divine is itself doctrinal and won’t bring disaster. If there’s any risk, it’s in the ‘response’—that’s the real test, the proof of whether my theory holds.”

Amber nodded slowly. Though it sounded like a far-fetched idea, she knew Gavain was serious. But another concern came to mind. “Even if it makes sense, some priests will probably resist this… bold move. Even with the Divine Authority Council and the Imperial Administration backing it, they’ll still call it ‘blasphemy.’”

“Let them call it what they want,” Gavain chuckled. “The thing is, aren’t those same priests always claiming they want to communicate with their gods, that they want to hear the divine voice? Now the Lady of Night is working hand in hand with the Empire to set up a direct line to heaven—why wouldn’t they dare to pick up the phone? If they refuse, is it because they’re not truly devout? And if they’re not devout, then the tech-priests and tech-adepts sent by the Divine Authority Council will be even more devout.”

Amber thought it over and had to admit, Gavain had a point.

(End of chapter)