In the Aethelian throne hall, Castian knelt before the Emperor, head bowed as he recited his report.

He spoke of the Origin Capital, of the banquet, of the formation that spanned an entire star system, of the demons that fell like dust before Adrian’s hand.

Around him, ministers and generals stood in rigid lines as they listened.

When he finished, silence pressed down.

The Emperor leaned back, fingers tapping the armrest of his throne in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Castian spoke quietly, his gaze still fixed on the polished floor.

“Your Majesty, the Origin Clan has grown beyond all expectations. It will soon grow to a power that rivals even the top clans within our dominion.”

The Emperor’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing as shadows deepened across his face.

“I did not expect him to grow this quickly.”

His fingers stopped tapping.

“The Empire has already made its stance. He knows we tried to have him killed when Veythar was released. That grudge will never fade.”

Castian nodded slowly. “Then you believe he will turn against us?”

The Emperor’s tone was calm, almost gentle, “It’s possible. Even when standing before me at the banquet, he refused to bend.”

He paused, his gaze distant, as if seeing something far beyond the throne hall.

“I wanted to crush his clan and make him belong to Aethelia. But now, the situation is different.”

“Better to crush a spark… than face a wildfire.”

He turned to his attendants, who stood like statues along the chamber’s edge.

“What progress on the frontline rotations?”

An attendant stepped forward, bowing so deeply his forehead nearly touched his knee.

“Your Majesty, the Drakthor Sector will fall under Aethelian command within two months. If we assign the Origin Clan to it, they will be stationed at one of the edge sectors located at the galaxy’s outer void.”

The man’s voice trembled slightly despite his training.

The Emperor’s fingers tapped once on the throne’s armrest.

Then, slowly, he shook his head.

“That was the old plan. Now I want him dead.”

“Pass my order.”

“Summon Arkan Valis.”

The name alone silenced the hall completely.

Arkan Valis was one of the Tri-Essence Warlords, one of Aethelia’s living weapons, and the most ruthless among them.

A butcher who had drowned entire star systems in blood without hesitation.

The attendant froze, his face draining of color.

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Then he bowed even lower, his voice barely audible.

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“At once, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor leaned back slightly, his expression unreadable.

“When the Origin Clan is deployed to the Drakthor Sector, Arkan will embed himself there.”

“He will strike. And Adrian Blackwood will not return.”

Castian’s eyes flickered with unease, a muscle tightening in his jaw.

But he said nothing, keeping his gaze fixed downward.

The Emperor turned his gaze upward, toward the sigil of the Aethelian crest above the throne.

“Knowledge Spheres can be copied. Formations can be stolen. But that boy…”

His voice dropped to a whisper, barely more than breath.

“That boy is becoming dangerous. For Aethelia’s future, his story must end.”

The Emperor’s decree had been spoken.

Castian rose slowly, his movements controlled, and bowed once more.

“It will be done, Your Majesty.”

He turned and walked toward the chamber’s exit, his footsteps echoing through the stillness.

Behind him, ministers began to whisper, their voices hushed and urgent.

The attendant who had spoken earlier hurried away, already composing the summons in his mind.

The Emperor remained motionless on his throne, his gaze still fixed on the crest above.

…

Meanwhile… In a strange place, within the edge of the galaxy, six figures stood before a massive floating hologram.

Its light pulsed softly, bathing their worn faces in pale blue.

› Requirements Met. Exit Permitted.

› Candidate: Gary.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then Selric broke it, “Finally.”

Max laughed, clapping Gary’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble.

“About time one of us gets out of this nightmare.”

Orin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

“You look like someone just offered you a pardon and a funeral in the same breath.”

Gary turned slowly, his face blank.

“We’ve cleared two levels,” he said softly.

“Two. In what? A thousand years? Two thousand?”

His voice cracked slightly.

“Now that I’ve ascended to Stellar… I can anchor the next run. We can push together.”

Elliot snorted, shaking his head, “We pushed until pushing lost meaning.”

He stepped forward, “You know what this place is, Gary.”

Gary clenched his fists, “I’m not leaving any of you behind.”

Selric’s tone softened as he stepped closer, “It took you two thousand years to reach Stellar, Gary.”

He placed a hand on Gary’s shoulder, “For us all to meet the exit conditions… it could take longer than we have left in existence.”

He squeezed once, then let go.

“Better you leave. Find out if Earth still exists. If any of this still matters.”

Orin smirked faintly, “Besides, we can’t die in here, remember? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Max added, trying to grin, “And who knows, maybe Aurelia and the others are still out there, or they could’ve—”

He stopped.

The words died in his throat.

Silence fell again, heavier this time.

Finally, Ilyas spoke quietly from the back, “Go, Gary.”

“Check for us. You can always come back.”

Gary looked at each of them in turn, his throat tightened, “…Alright.”

He reached out and pressed the hologram.

The surface rippled beneath his palm.

“I’ll come back.”

› Confirm Exit.

Light swallowed him whole.

…

The stars assembled around him.

When the glow faded, Gary found himself floating in the void, weightless and alone.

He turned and saw it.

The structure behind him loomed, colossal and jagged, its surface etched with patterns that hurt to look at too long.

Its design was alien, unlike anything he had seen in the galaxy.

The first thing he did was reach into his cloak and pull out his Node.

It powered on instantly.

For a moment, the screen was dark.

Then, with a soft chime, text appeared.

› Connection Restored.

“Finally…” He whispered the word like a prayer, “It works again.”

He checked the timestamp and froze, “Only… months? No. That’s impossible.”

His hands trembled as he stared at the date, “We were inside for at least two thousand years…”

He realized then that time had flowed differently within the structure.

His relief was slow, almost painful.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Then they might still be alive.”

Then his Node chimed again, messages flooded in, dozens at first, then hundreds.

Names scrolled past his eyes. Septimus, Draven, Aurelia, Cassian, Lucian.

Hundreds of unread messages.

He opened one at random, fingers moving faster now.

He began to read, and slowly, his expression shifted.

They spoke of someone named Adrian. A human from Earth. A descendant of theirs.

The messages described his miracles, the creation of the Origin Clan, the Knowledge Spheres, the formation that spanned an entire star system.

The more he read, the wider his grin grew.

By the end, he was laughing, disbelieving, “No way.”

He shook his head, still grinning, “No way.”

He looked up at the endless void above, eyes bright with pride.

“So Earth is safe. Aurelia and the others are also safe…”

His voice cracked slightly, “And one of ours is changing the galaxy.”

He stood there for a long moment, floating in the silence.

Then he looked back at the structure and muttered, “Can’t wait to see their reactions when I tell them.”

He tapped open the message tab and began typing to his comrades, “I’m back!”

His fingers moved quickly, almost frantically, “You won’t believe what’s happened to us!”

The message was sent, vanishing into the net.

He looked up once more at the impossible shape hunched against the stars.

Then back at the glowing screen.

“Hold on,” Gary said quietly.

“I’ll bring back a way to save you all.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep