The cold starlight streamed through the viewport of the "Radiance," bathing Ester in its glow, yet it couldn't dispel the chill in his heart. The whispers of Elio the Mirror-Holder, seeming to pierce through time itself, still echoed in the cabin, each word laden with a heavy sense of destiny, striking the already shaken foundations of his beliefs.
Elio's figure had departed, but the information he left behind was like a stone cast into a deep pool, the ripples it stirred refusing to settle.
Ester stood by the viewport, gazing down at the azure planet shrouded in night—Waxing Moon Star. His fingers unconsciously gripped the bridge railing, knuckles white. Deep within his eyes, the usual resolve and sharpness were gone, replaced by an unprecedented confusion and... a hint of despondency.
"Sam... Kay... what they said... was actually true?" Ester's voice was hoarse and rasping, like sandpaper grating.
The fall of Idrila, the Aeon of Beauty, was not the end, but the prelude to the birth of the new god "Saelen"? And this new god was gestating within Luna's womb, needing to be born on this land soaked with Stellaron energy, surrounded by shards of Beauty, to continue the path known as "Beauty"?
What suffocated him even more was the cosmic vista revealed in Elio's words—everything seemed to run along a fixed track called the "Script" or the "Finality Prophecy."
His struggles, his protection, the blood and tears shed by the Knights of Beauty fighting across the star sea... was all of this merely dust beneath the wheels of fate? No matter how hard he tried, what choices he made, would he only ever reach that predetermined end? A powerful sense of helplessness, like icy seawater, instantly engulfed him.
"If everything is destined... then what meaning is there in anything I've done?" Ester murmured softly, his voice filled with weariness and self-mockery.
He seemed to see himself transformed into a puppet on strings, manipulated by invisible threads, performing a play whose ending was already written.
This realization struck him with a despair deeper than any blow from a powerful enemy.
He slowly leaned back into the command chair, his figure seeming slightly stooped under the starlight. The silver-white knight's armor, symbolizing glory and faith, now seemed to have lost its luster.
This despondency hung over him like a cold fog, briefly. Yet, at the very edge of this abyss of despair, some images stubbornly pierced the haze—the solemn vows sworn under Idrila's radiant light when the Knights were first founded; the trusting glances exchanged between comrades fighting back-to-back; Luna's hopeful, tender smile by the village bonfire as she caressed her swollen belly; the Old Village Chief's eyes sparkling with anticipation for the future as he held the new seeds; Karlon's clumsy yet utterly earnest stance as he swung his training sword... and himself, countless times drawing his sword in desperate straits, unleashing an indomitable will to protect those behind him.
"No!" Ester's eyes snapped open, flames rekindling in his pupils. The fire wasn't blazing, but carried a resolve that pierced the haze.
"Even if the ending is already destined... the process of protection, every choice to swing the sword, every moment standing up for one's beliefs... this is the meaning itself."
He stood up abruptly, his posture straightening like a pine tree that remains standing after a storm. The despondency receded like a tide, leaving behind a determination refined to greater purity. Choosing to protect, choosing to fight, choosing to believe in hope—this in itself was the most potent rebellion against so-called "destiny."
No matter how the universe's script was written, his faith, his will, his choice at this very moment, held undeniableweight.
"It seems you have found your answer," a gentle voice sounded from the cabin doorway. Elio had returned unnoticed. His eyes, seeming to hold the flow of galaxies, observed Ester with all-perceiving calm. He had seen the struggle in Ester's eyes, and also the rekindled, more restrained yet firmer light that emerged after it.
"The laws of the universe may be grand and cold, but the radiance of an individual soul, the power of its choices, have always been the source of variables. Obsessing over 'destiny' only leads one astray in the labyrinth of fate. What matters is what you believe in *now*, what you choose to do *now*."
Just then, a spark of insight flashed in Ester's mind—a mystery temporarily set aside resurfaced: the villagers' blank slate of altered memory. What had truly happenedin that history? Why had it needed to be so thoroughly erased? Did this connect deeply to the Stellaron, the Star-Tear Orchids, even the prophecy of Saelen?
"Elio," Ester's gaze sharpened, "I have another request. The villagers of Waxing Moon Star have a gap in their memories, forcibly erased by an external force, roughly around the time shortly after the Knights left a century ago. I want to know what truly happened in that hidden history? This might... be crucially related to the predicament we face."
Elio's face, seemingly veiled in mist, showed no surprise, only a slight nod. "Beneath the dust of memory often lies critical truth. I agree, Commander Ester. Truth must be revealed."
The two reached a consensus and immediately set coursefor the Waxing Moon Star village. During the flight in the small shuttle, Ester relayed everything he knew about the planet to Elio as thoroughly as possible: the Stellaronsealed deep underground by the Knights, yet restive; the mysterious Star-Tear Orchids, nourished by the dual powers of Beauty and Destruction; the child within Luna's womb prophesied to be the new god "Saelen"; and the shards of Beauty sealed within the cores of its two moons...
Elio listened quietly, his eyes seeming to pierce the shuttle's hull, directly observing the river of fate flowing through this planet. As they neared the village, the aura around him subtly shifted. An extremely faint halo, woven from starlight and mist, enveloped him. His presence faded and dissipated like ink dropped into water. Even standing right beside Ester, if Ester hadn't seen him, he could barely lock onto his exact location by perception alone.
"Formless Concealment," Elio's voice also seemed to come from afar, carrying a strange resonance. "This minimizes disturbance to the villagers, facilitating my perceptual investigation."
Ester nodded. "Wise. It avoids much unnecessary trouble."
The shuttle landed silently on the village outskirts. Esterwalked alone towards the familiar settlement. Villagers greeted him warmly as he returned, asking about his journey. Luna also came out to meet him, her hand resting on her swollen belly, a gentle smile on her face.
However, when her gaze inadvertently swept over the empty space behind Ester, her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, a flicker of subtle doubt in her eyes.
"Commander Ester... did you... come back alone?" Luna asked softly, feeling an indescribable, incredibly faint sense of "emptiness" there, instinctively causing her unease. This was related to her long exposure to Ester's refined Beauty energy, making her perception sharper than ordinary people's.
Ester's heart tightened, but his expression remained calm. He smiled warmly. "Yes, Luna, I finished some business and came back. How are you feeling?"
"Everything's fine, the little one is well-behaved." Luna's attention was quickly diverted by Ester's words and the movement in her womb.
The sense of strangeness she attributed to her own imagination was soon dismissed.
Ester exchanged a few brief pleasantries with the villagers, then excused himself, citing the need for rest, and returned to the "Radiance" parked outside the village. He knew Elio's work had begun.
In the following hours, Elio moved like an invisible ghost through the village and fields of Waxing Moon Star. He stood before the Old Village Chief, beside Karlon's clanging smithy, below the window of Moon Granny's herb-filled hut, near the playing Toby and the quiet Lina... His transcendent perception acted like the most precise probe, silently entering the mental world of every villager, carefully brushing aside the layer of forcibly imposed memory dust, tracing the buried truth.
The villagers remained oblivious, continuing their peaceful lives. Only Luna occasionally paused while playing her instrument, gazing thoughtfully at some seemingly empty spot, a trace of faint confusion on her brow, but nothing more.
After completing the perceptual scan of all the villagers, Elio did not stop. He went to a relatively calm energy point on a hill near the village and sat cross-legged. The "Formless Concealment" aura around him deepened, as if merging with the very earth, sky, and flowing energy currents of Waxing Moon Star.
His consciousness sank deeper into the "Transcendent Realm," beginning a deduction of the entire planet—activating the planet's faint residual information field, combining the memory fragments he had "read" in the villagers' minds, and the key information Ester had provided, attempting to reconstruct that deliberately erased century of history.
Time flowed silently. When the sunset dyed the horizon a mournful crimson, Elio slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was deeper than before, as if bearing the weight of a century of vicissitudes. He rose and walked silently towards the "Radiance."
On the bridge, Ester was waiting. Seeing Elio return, he immediately stepped forward. Without a word, Elio extended a finger, a dreamlike speck of starlight swirling at its tip. "The truth is revealed. Connect your consciousness, Commander Ester. Witness with your own eyes that era frozen in ice."
Ester stretched out his finger without hesitation, touching Elio's.
Instantly, Ester's consciousness was pulled by a powerful force, plummeting into a phantasmagoric historical illusion constructed by Elio's "Transcendent Realm."
Time rewound. Waxing Moon Star, a century ago.
The scene flickered unsteadily, as if viewed through water. Ester "saw": The earth's tremors had just subsided—clearly after Kay and the others sealed the Stellaron. The air still carried the residue of violent energy and the thick scent of blood. The setting was the ravaged edge of a village, littered with signs of fierce combat.
Kay was holding Eira, grievously wounded and barely breathing. Ryan stood guard nearby, anxious. Their armor was shattered, faces etched with exhaustion, fury, and grief.
Not far away, a figure in tattered silver-gray mirror-patterned robes lay on the ground, lifeless. The three Knights had clearly just endured a brutal conflict with the Mirror-Holders.
Then, the focus of the illusion shifted. Ester was stunned to see a familiar figure—Luna.
She was hiding behind a broken wall, her face streaked with tears of terror, hand clamped over her mouth to stifle any sound. She watched as Kay carried Eira, and Ryan quickly boarded their ship. The engines roared as itshot skyward, vanishing into the clouds. The Knights had departed, leaving behind a shattered world stripped of its protectors.
The illusion abruptly accelerated. Time flowed.
The peace did not last long. Suddenly, a muffled, terrifying roar erupted from the earth's depths. The place where the Stellaron was sealed underground erupted without warning with energy more violent and chaotic than before. Crimson energy beams, like demonic tentacles, tore through the earth, lancing towards the sky.
Under the violent impact of this out-of-control energy, and upon ground already saturated with the residual Beauty-infused blood of Eira and the Mirror-Holders (imbued with potent life force), the Star-Tear Orchids—once merely glowing with soft light and delicate form—underwent a horrific transformation.
They seemed injected with a mad catalyst, twisting, swelling, proliferating wildly. Supple vines became hard as steel, covered in thorns. Tender blossoms morphed into gaping maws dripping corrosive slime. Roots burrowed out of the ground like living things, becoming flailing tendrils.
The entire Star-Tear Orchid growth area transformed, in a short time, into a seething, roaring forest of monsters exuding ominous energy. Countless grotesque creatures twisted from plants surged like a tide towards the panicked village.
Villagers wailed in despair, swinging crude farming tools in resistance, but against these twisted monstrosities, they were fragile as paper. Ester painfully "saw" ancestors of familiar faces die horribly under the claws and acid of the monsters.
In the chaos, the young Luna was violently struck by a thick, thorn-covered vine, smashing into a rock. She spat blood, on the verge of being torn apart by another monster wielding scythe-like forelimbs.
At this critical moment.
Beams of light tore through space, descending abruptly. Several figures materialized before the dying Luna.
Ester's consciousness tensed instantly. He saw the arrivals: A woman of graceful stature, with cascading purple hair, her gaze languid yet possessing a soul-piercing depth, intangible threads coiling around her fingertips. And a figure clad entirely in streamlined, deep-gray, angular armor, its head a silvery-white data-mask, eyes burning with constant azure light.
Their combat was efficient and lethal. Sam stood like a human fortress, spewing annihilating azure flames that turned swathes of monsters to ash, each punch carrying the force to shatter mountains.
Kafka appeared even more "leisurely." She didn't attack directly at all, merely dancing her fingers elegantly. Intangible spirit-command power radiated outwards. The monsters charging at the forefront suddenly froze, then inexplicably turned around, ferociously attacking their own kind. Her ability plunged the monster tide into chaotic self-destruction.
The battle concluded with astonishing speed. Before the overwhelming power of the Stellaron Hunters, the seemingly terrifying mutated monster horde was effortlessly dismantled and eradicated. The land was left in ruins, only smoldering wreckage and traumatized survivors remained.
However, the atmosphere didn't ease after the fight. Kafka and Sam gathered, seemingly arguing. Specific sounds couldn't be heard in the illusion, but through the "thought waves" transmitted by Elio, Ester clearly perceived fragments of their dialogue. Kafka's voice carried a rare hint of confusion: "Outburst energy level exceeds projected models by 37.8%... Not within the predicted node of the 'Script'..."
Sam's voice, cold and electronic with a metallic rasp: "Interference source localization failed. Logic conflict.
This is an 'Ad Hoc Script Addition'... indicates the established trajectory is not absolute..."
Kafka's gaze swept over the ruins and survivors, finally resting on the unconscious Luna: "This planet and the events here... correlation transcends the current temporal anchor point... existence of a 'Supervariable'... priority elevated to 'Observation Level'..." She seemed to synthesize her companion's input, forming a judgment.
The argument seemed resolved. Kafka turned her gaze towards the surviving villagers (including the severely wounded, unconscious Luna). Her eyes—an invisible, terrifyingly powerful mental force washed over the entire village area like a tide.
The surviving villagers' eyes instantly glazed over. All memories of this horrific mutation, the terrifying monsters, the arrival of the Stellaron Hunters—were erased like pencil marks under an eraser. They blurred, fragmented, and ultimately vanished completely, leaving only confusion and fear about the earthquake and the Knights' departure.
But that wasn't enough. Kafka raised her hand again. An icy blue energy, carrying extreme cold, surged from her palm, sweeping over the entire village like an arctic storm.
This power wasn't meant to kill, but to... freeze.
All surviving villagers, including the gravely injured Luna, were instantly encased in thick, strangely rune-emblazoned ice. Their vital signs were forcibly reduced to near stasis, as if time's pause button had been pressed.
In the illusion, Kafka walked slowly to the frozen Luna, gazing through the crystal-clear ice at the girl's face, frozen in terror and pain. Her voice, carrying an odd cadence, clearly reached Ester's consciousness:
"Sleep... Forgotten Ones... Your 'story'... will only be permitted to begin... in the future..."
As the words fell, Kafka and Sam transformed into streaks of light, vanishing from Waxing Moon Star's sky. The land was left in deathly silence, only the frozen village and the forcibly erased, rewritten history remained.
Connection severed.
Ester jerked his finger back, his body swaying uncontrollably. His face was ashen, forehead drenched in cold sweat.
He gasped violently, his ice-blue eyes filled with utter shock and... a sliver of indescribable understanding.
He understood.
That memory gap existed because a disaster beyond the Stellaron Hunters' "Script" prediction had occurred—the Stellaron's unexpected eruption and the Star-Tear Orchids' horrific mutation.
The villagers' memories were altered to conceal this "anomaly outside the script."
The villagers were frozen by the Stellaron Hunters' immense power, their life-time forcibly suspended for a century. Only recently had the seal lifted, allowing them to "awaken" and start new lives. That frozen memory, along with the disaster's memory, had been erased.
Most crucially—the Stellaron Hunters called it an "Ad Hoc Script Addition." This meant the events on Waxing Moon Star exceeded the predictions of the "Finality Prophecy" they followed.
This planet, its people, the events here, were a variable in the "Script." An "anomaly" outside the established trajectory.
Ester's heart pounded in his chest, not from fear, but because a flame called "hope" was rekindling on the lake of his heart, which had been frozen by fatalism.
"Do you see, Commander Ester?" Elio's voice sounded calmly, carrying knowing understanding. "Prophecy is not unbreakable. Waxing Moon Star itself is the greatest variable. That unexpected eruption, Luna's existence, Saelen's gestation... all this proves the future is not set in stone. The path of Finality also has fissures that can be pried open."
Ester raised his head. The confusion and despondency in his eyes vanished completely, replaced by a sharp light as if tempered and reforged.
He looked out the viewport at the planet sleeping quietly under the starlight, towards the direction of the village, as if he could pierce the night and see Luna and the child within her.
"Yes, Elio," Ester's voice was low and firm, each word seeming to carry the weight of a thousand pounds. "I see. The future... is not limited to one path. The variable... is now in our hands."
The weight of destiny still existed, but at this moment, what he felt was not powerlessness, but the heavy responsibility of bearing the lever to shift fate's fulcrum. Saelen's birth would no longer be merely a requirement of prophecy; it would be a battle to shatter the established trajectory.
And protecting all of this was the mission Ester, as a Knight of Beauty, must fulfill.