But not everyone welcomed Max's ascent with admiration.
As the projection displayed his steady advance beyond ten thousand six hundred miles, the viewing platform was filled not only with awe but also with tension. For some, his progress was inspiring. For others, it was unsettling.
Garry Heron's expression had grown increasingly dark.
"I think his journey will end around ten thousand eight hundred or ten thousand nine hundred miles," Garry said coldly, his gaze fixed on the projection.
Several elders nearby turned to look at him. His tone carried certainty rather than speculation.
Matthew Grimes shifted his attention toward Garry, a faint smile appearing on his face.
"Hm. Why do you think that will happen?" Matthew asked calmly. "From what I see, Max currently holds the highest probability of reaching the twelfth layer."
"Highest probability?" Garry let out a short, mocking laugh. "Matthew, are you serious?"
His voice carried open derision.
