At dawn, when the first strand of sunlight pierced the mist and gently brushed the snowcapped peaks, the silver world seemed to awaken, radiating with dazzling brilliance.
This was the Alps, Europe's highest and most expansive mountain range.
Standing at the foot of the mountain and looking up, the peaks towered into the clouds, majestic and imposing. Exposed rock and patches of lush greenery interwove across the slopes, forming a natural tapestry of striking beauty.
"Finally, I've found it."
At a secluded corner of the range, Avia, who had come here immediately after leaving the Millennium City, exhaled white mist as he smiled. He snapped his fingers with a click, and along with the faint tremor that followed, a section of snow-covered cliff face shifted.
A hidden sanctuary, impossible to be discovered under normal circumstances, revealed itself. What appeared was a man-made "door" embedded in the rock wall. More precisely, it was a door radiating a strong aura of advanced technology—but beyond it lay only a cavern shrouded in shadow.
This was the colossal relic later discovered by Charlemagne and Astolfo, the site that housed the Alien Key.
It was here that the young Emperor Karl the Great first encountered the Alien Key, touched the will of the stars, and learned of his destiny to unify Europe—a fate he strove tirelessly to fulfill.
According to Karl's testimony in fexl, like Attila, he had received revelation. But neither of them could claim the Alien Key as their own—they could only harness its power.
Avia had come here alone this time, hoping to discover whether the relic held something that might resolve the crisis of the giants foretold by Odin. He had deliberately left behind Typhon and Black Princess, for venturing into a realm where one's very soul might be drawn to the moon carried undeniable risks.
Upon entering, he brightened the magical light orb he carried, filling the cavern with radiance.
Whether this place held hidden dangers—or traps of alien technology—was impossible to know. Either was equally likely. Caution, Avia knew, was the only wise approach here.
The silver-haired youth advanced slowly into the depths. He passed several branching tunnels, each more confounding than the last. The cave extended far deeper than expected, so much so that it was startling. And the deeper he went, the more he passed massive gears—long frozen in place—that lined the cavern walls like mute guardians. Nearly three hours of silent progress brought him at last to—
A mural, painted by an unknown hand, depicting the Three Celestial Siblings.
At its center was a massive eye, embedded into the mural as though fused with the wall itself. It stared outward with a vitality that felt alive—an intense, unyielding gaze that seemed to pierce everything it beheld.
This was the Alien Key, not of the Celestial Siblings. It was through its power that Emperor Karl had elevated his abilities into the divine voice of assimilation.
Without hesitation, Avia leapt lightly and pressed his hand against the Key.
In that instant, he was submerged in an infinite ocean of blue data. A torrent of knowledge surged around him—not the human concept of information, but structured like ornate patterns, woven together in systems far beyond humanity's use.
And he could feel it—the Moon itself, endlessly recording, observing, and measuring. At times, this record gave birth to forms of intelligence—yet the Moon dismantled them all, remaining ever the silent witness.
No matter what humanity did on Earth, the Moon accepted it all, never intervening—only watching.
Avia understood now: this was the Mooncell, an observation device placed within the Moon by a vanished extraterrestrial civilization 4.6 billion years ago. Today, it was revered as the Moon's Ultimate One.
Because it was created to record faithfully and impartially, its functions had expanded far beyond mere observation. Mooncell evolved from passive recording into active surveillance. Its computational power grew until it could oversee the operations of entire planets. Along with this expansion, its governance grew ever more intricate.
It produced countless terminals and even artificial intelligences to manage its many systems. Yet it resolutely refused to grant intelligence to itself.
An observer must not possess will—for if the observer held intelligence, then all meaning would be determined by it.
In the FE world, after the great magical ritual conducted in Britain in the 1970s prematurely drained the Root, Earth was left to face unending calamities and dwindling resources. The Mage's Association collapsed, leaving only the Atlas Institute, which relied little on magic.
In this vacuum, the financial conglomerate known as the Western European Conglomerate, descendants of Charlemagne, rose to dominance. They became the political power steering the world and formed NERO, uniting most nations. The United States, England, India, and others allied with them, providing the bulk of NERO's military force.
With the Root depleted and NERO suppressing rival factions, the Mage's Association all but perished. Its remnants fled to the Middle East and, joining other anti-NERO elements, formed a resistance known as the Liberation Front.
By 2015, a lunar exploration team funded by the Conglomerate discovered that beneath the Moon's crust lay an immense crystalline structure of photons—the Mooncell itself. Scanning Earth every nanosecond, it archived every result in its limitless database.
From this revelation, the Conglomerate gathered 45 nations to form the Northern Hemisphere Resource Organization, imposing strict limitations on space development.
By 2030, human and technological progress had stalled. With resources monopolized by the Conglomerate, global discord escalated into constant warfare, pushing civilization to the brink of collapse.
Yet Avia knew: in the tapestry of worlds he now traversed, this "FE" world was but a minor parallel thread.
He did not know how much time had passed before his consciousness finally surfaced from the sea of data.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself within a vast, near-empty "room." Yet calling it a room felt wrong—for its immensity seemed to encompass sky and earth alike.
At its center stood a strange object, surrounded by broken, slanted stone pillars. None stood straight; they circled the object like a shattered crown, evoking an air of desolation.
This was an artifact of alien civilization—something wholly outside human concepts.
It was the heart of the Mooncell itself, the system that governed the seven seas of the FE world, and what it depicted was the Sevenfold Grail of the Heavens.
The moment Avia appeared, a mechanical voice resonated through the void:
"Mortal who comes from the Earth… why have you come? Tell me."