Ester stood beneath the vast observation dome of Herta Space Station. Below him stretched the cold metallic arcs of artificial rings and the fiery splendor of a distant star. Yet, within him, a tempest raged as turbulent as the starry sea he beheld. The pact forged with Elio, the crushing duty to guard the nascent Aeon Selune, bound him like invisible chains.
Luna – the vessel destined to bear the rebirth of Beauty – her safety was a weight pressing heavily on his shoulders. Overshadowing it all loomed the ancient deity perched atop the chain of existence: the Aeon of Equilibrium, Hu. Its cold, precise, unyielding will had nearly shattered him. Ester's fingers unconsciously traced the hilt of his blade, "Stellar Oath." Its icy touch offered a sliver of clarity. To face a deity embodying the universe's fundamental laws alone? It was dust trying to move a star. He needed power. He needed allies mighty enough to give even a god pause.
His comrades in the Knights of Beauty had once been his unbreakable shield. The radiance of Idrila had been the bridge linking their souls across the cosmos. But now, the Lady of Beauty's light had dimmed, that resonant connection across the star-sea irrevocably severed. Conventional comms in this vast universe, teeming with countless worlds and interference, were agonizingly slow and unreliable. The thought carried a bitter tang. Elio's warning echoed in his mind: what they guarded now was a *new* Aeon of Beauty. To those former brothers-in-arms still desperately seeking Idrila, clinging to her as their sole faith, this was the deepest blasphemy and betrayal. Seeking their aid? More likely, it would turn the blades they once wielded side-by-side against his own heart.
"...Is this the only way?" Ester murmured, as if forcing himself to accept the grim reality.
Elio had already departed, using his unique authority to traverse the esoteric "Transcendentium" in search of potential aid. Ester's own path led here – to Herta Space Station, a beacon at the frontier of knowledge, curios, and intellect.
The shuttle settled smoothly into the massive spaceport. As the hatch slid open, he was met by a familiar face wearing a professionally warm smile.
"Mr. Ester! So good to see you again!" Asta, the station's Acting Director, hurried forward, her crimson braid bouncing with her steps, her smile as bright as ever. "Was your journey smooth?"
Behind her stretched the station's signature, futuristic silver-white corridors, energy silently coursing through transparent conduits like complex, vital veins.
"Thank you for your concern, Director Asta," Ester replied, pushing down the turmoil within, offering a slight nod and a polite curve of his lips. "The station remains as vibrant and bustling as ever." He keenly noted a subtle tension beneath Asta's cheerful demeanor.
"I'm so glad you understand!" Asta visibly relaxed, her words speeding up slightly. "Lady Herta... well, she's conducting an extremely critical deep-phase simulation of the Simulated Universe. She's been at it for nearly thirty standard hours straight. She gave *very*, *very* strict orders," she emphasized, miming a zipping motion across her lips. "'Absolutely, positively, NO interruptions! Even if the sky falls, wait until I'm done!' – her exact words." Asta shrugged helplessly, her expression apologetic. "So, I'm afraid you'll need to wait a little while."
"Perfectly understandable. The pursuit of the universe's ultimate truths warrants such focus." Ester's voice remained steady, despite his inner urgency to meet the genius club member whose insights might be key to opposing Hu. "Please direct me to a suitable waiting area."
"Of course! Right this way, please." Asta guided Ester through the bustling main concourse.
The thought of checking on Lycas surfaced naturally. Guided by Asta, Ester soon arrived at the Life Sciences Department's medical wing. The air carried the sterile scent of antiseptic mixed faintly with the sweetness of life-support fluids. Lycas reclined on an adjustable med-bed, the deathly pallor replaced by healthier color on his cheeks. His shattered armor was gone, replaced by soft medical garb.
Seeing Ester approach, he struggled to sit straighter, the resolute fire of a Knight of Beauty reigniting in his eyes.
"Commander!" Lycas's voice held a trace of suppressed emotion.
"How are you feeling, Lycas?" Ester stopped by the bed, scrutinizing his subordinate's condition.
"The station's med-tech is top-notch, Commander. Recovery is good... just... strength needs time." Lycas clenched a fist, knuckles whitening with the effort, clearly frustrated by his current weakness. He paused, his gaze meeting Ester's directly; his loyalty and acuity undiminished by injury. "Commander, Elio... why did he seek us out? What is his *real* goal?" The question cut to the heart, bearing a warrior's bluntness and undisguised suspicion.
The air seemed to freeze for an instant. Ester's gaze locked onto the pure, unwavering devotion to Lady Idrila shining in Lycas's eyes. He knew this loyal knight too well. If Lycas learned the truth – that they guarded a *new*, nascent Aeon of Beauty – it could plunge him into the agony of shattered faith, perhaps even provoke him to draw his blade immediately. Ester felt his throat tighten. The oath of a Knight of Beauty was etched into his soul: *Never tarnish Beauty's radiance with falsehood*. He *could not* lie to Lycas.
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Ester's hand unconsciously gripped the hilt of Stellar Oath, the cold metal a reminder of his vows and duty. Finally, he averted Lycas's searching gaze, his voice low and grave, artfully sidestepping the unanswerable question:
"Knight Lycas Bladewing," he used the formal title, issuing an order. "I have a critical mission for you."
Confusion flickered in Lycas's eyes, but he instantly straightened his spine. "Your orders, Commander?"
"Once you're cleared, I need you to return to Melustine." Ester spread his palm, projecting a miniature star chart pinpointing the planet once ravaged by Stellaron corruption. "Locate the source of the special starfall ore – Aetheriel Prime – used to forge Stellar Oath. It's vital for restoring the Order's sacred relics." It was a true reason, just not the *most* urgent one.
Lycas's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Melustine... the Order's former sanctuary, the charred ruin scourged by the Stellaron disaster. Even sealed, the lingering Fragmentum corruption and chaotic energies remained like unhealed wounds, perilous. He clearly sensed the implied purpose behind the order – to be sent away – but for a knight, obedience superseded all.
"Aye, Commander!" Lycas acknowledged firmly, doubt in his eyes but not a shred of hesitation. He added, "However, the Fragmentum zones on Melustine are highly unstable. Should we mobilize knights from nearby sectors?"
"Sound thinking." Ester nodded, his fingers swiftly highlighting coordinates on the star map. "Elements of the 3rd and 7th Squads are still on rotation there, monitoring the Stellaron seal. These are their last reported secure outpost coordinates. Link up with them upon arrival, form a squad for the mission. Safety first." He emphasized the last point, a blend of concern and a reminder of the mission's secrecy – more knights gathered meant fewer eyes on his and Elio's true objective.
"Understood! Preparing for immediate departure!" Determination flared in Lycas's eyes as he moved to throw off the med-sheet.
"Lycas." Ester's hand rested firmly on his shoulder. "The mission is vital, but so is your recovery. Only depart once the station medics confirm you can handle the jump." His tone brooked no argument, filled with undeniable concern. "The Order needs every loyal warrior."
Lycas paused. Seeing the deep care in his Commander's eyes, his tense frame slowly relaxed. He gave a firm nod. "...Aye, Commander!"
With Lycas settled, Ester was escorted by Asta to a relatively quiet rest cabin on the station's upper levels. The view was commanding; through the large viewport, he could oversee the bustling activity of the main docking platforms below. Ships of various classes descended and ascended like metallic birds returning to roost, guided by tractor beams.
Ester stood silently by the window. The magnificent tapestry of the cosmos unfolded before him – stellar infernos, nebulous veils, the swirling arms of distant galaxies. Yet, this boundless, silent beauty offered no solace for the turmoil within.
Time crawled as he waited. The sealed door to Herta's lab felt like an impassable chasm between him and hope. He closed his eyes. Images of Luna in tranquil slumber warred with the cold, ancient, utterly alien will of Aeon Hu that seemed to pierce eternity itself.
Power... The power to oppose a god... Where could it be found?
Meanwhile, at a singularity point transcending the physical universe's dimensions, Elio's consciousness was immersed within the Transcendentium – a realm of pure concept and flowing starlight. Here, directions held no meaning, and the passage of time was intangible. Only countless flickering thought-points and streams of information existed. He was like a patient angler, casting his mental lines into this sea of consciousness with precision.
Soon, three powerful, distinct consciousnesses answered his summons, coalescing like stars igniting in the dark, drawn along unseen paths.
"Elio..." The first consciousness pulsed, its data-stream as steady as bedrock, heavy with the weight of ages.
"Elio, we have contemplated the path of 'New Radiance' you revealed. Its possibility... does exist." The second flowed like a dark river beneath ice, cool and sharp.
"For 'Continuance'. To break free of this suffocating cycle... we will try." The third resonated with an almost fervent resolve, like one prepared for a great sacrifice.
Elio's core consciousness remained serene, projecting clear intent: "Time is short. Hu's will descends like a shadow. We must weave the 'Veil of Phantasms' – to shield the nascent 'Seed of Beauty' from the gaze and interference of the supreme law. The materials... are prepared."
At his thought, three intensely compressed masses of energy materialized – like solidified cosmic dust or crystals holding the secrets of stellar birth and death. They drifted towards the three consciousnesses. They began to move, invisible forces guiding the star-sand-like substance, tracing dizzyingly complex geometric patterns and circuits onto the void of the Transcendentium.
This was no mere physical array, but forbidden knowledge acting directly upon the fabric of reality, a localized distortion and shield woven at the level of universal law.
Just as the esoteric ritual reached its climax, the star-sand glyphs poised to complete their final closure—
Catastrophe struck!
The pure crystal orb suspended at the ritual's core, anchoring its focus, exploded without warning.
No deafening roar, only a silent shockwave of energy erupting across the mental plane, a storm ravaging the soul. The shattered crystal dust didn't scatter; it vaporized instantly, coalescing into a thick, cloying crimson mist reeking of rust and blood.
The mist churned, condensed, and before Elio and the three Mirror Holders' stunned "gaze," outlined a colossal, icy, utterly indifferent single eye in the void.
The eye held no pupil, only an abyss devouring all light, its edges burning with pale flames signifying absolute balance and merciless order. Though not physical, it radiated supreme, terrifying authority that made the entire Transcendentium tremble.
An ancient, monumental voice, seeming to resonate from the universe's own pulse, detonated directly within the deepest cores of Elio and the three Mirror Holders' consciousness, each syllable carrying soul-crushing weight:
> **"Fools!"**
>
> **"Your actions guard no birth! You nurture an abomination that should never have been!"**
>
> **"This is desecration of creation's foundation! The ultimate—"**
>
> **"Imbalance!"**
The voice was like the universe's first thunderclap, bearing the finality of ultimate judgment. The blood-mist eye fixed its "gaze" on the ritual's heart, its pale flames of order burning silently, as if intent on reducing them and their entire endeavor to nothingness.
Back in the space station rest cabin, Ester's eyes snapped open! A profound, inexplicable shudder and icy dread seized him, as if some incomprehensible, colossal entity had cast a dispassionate glance across the infinite void. He instinctively pressed a hand to his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs, a cold sweat beading on his temples.
At that moment, the cabin's comm panel lit up with a soft blue glow. Asta's voice, tinged with relief and apology, came through:
"Mr. Ester! Wonderful news! Lady Herta has just completed a critical phase of her experiment! She says... she can see you now."