The Court of the Universe.
It was not a natural planet, but a miraculous interstellar creation composed of countless giant ring-shaped space stations, suspended ecological domes, and colossal space platforms with rivers of energy flowing through them.
Tens of thousands of starships, like homing bees, traversed the vast and orderly navigation lanes, while intelligent beings from hundreds of different races converged, traded, and debated at this cosmic crossroads.
Giant holographic projections in the void displayed the Planetary Alliance's emblem.
Intertwined star rings and olive branches, along with real-time scrolling interstellar news and trade indices.
However, beneath the dazzling facade of this civilization, Mark keenly sensed an unusual tension.
The number and alert level of patrol fleets were significantly higher than the norm described by Allan, and the defensive cannon arrays on the space station's outer wall were in a semi-active state, flashing with a cold, blue standby light.
Communication channels were filled with dense signal streams of extremely high encryption, and an invisible anxiety permeated the air.
"Did you feel it?"
Allan's voice sounded behind him, his massive body almost filling the bridge entrance, his face no longer bearing the relaxed expression he had when leaving Earth, but rather a heavy, worried look.
"The news of Viltrum Prime's destruction is like a bomb dropped into an anthill."
"Fear, greed, suspicion… everything suppressed under the Planetary Alliance framework is stirring."
The two followed the guiding beam, flying towards an entrance marked for diplomatic envoys and emergency affairs.
The moment Mark stepped onto the pathway, he felt an invisible pressure, but it wasn't gravity; rather, it was countless gazes from all directions, filled with scrutiny, curiosity, vigilance, and even hostility.
These gazes came from various races.
There were silicon-based life forms several meters tall with carapaces as thick as fortresses, transparent jellyfish-like creatures floating on anti-gravity platforms with tentacles flashing with thought-auras, and human close-relatives in crisp uniforms with sharp, eagle-like eyes…
They were all silently observing this unfamiliar young man from an alien planet.
Before Mark could look at them all, Allan's communicator rang again, and his expression changed accordingly.
"Mark, you'll have to come with me."
"Those old fogies set up a hearing and called us both in."
Allan gritted his teeth and cursed bitterly, feeling a hint of disrespect towards his friend.
Mark patted Allan's shoulder in comfort.
"It's alright, I wanted to find them anyway."
But what awaited them was not flowers and courtesy.
Instead, it was a cold, tense emergency hearing.
The location was the circular hall of the Interstellar Security and Crisis Response Committee, a subordinate body of the Planetary Alliance's Supreme Council.
Beneath the colossal dome, hundreds of floating seats, like thrones of gods, overlooked the central presentation platform.
Allan, as an official member of the Planetary Alliance and a direct witness to the events, was permitted to sit in the observer's gallery.
Mark, however, stood alone under the dazzling spotlight, like a prisoner brought to trial.
The committee's composition was complex.
Representatives from the military faction, the scientific research council, resource trade groups, and the dovish faction for the protection of fringe civilizations.
Before Mark could introduce himself, a barrage of questions erupted like a storm.
"Mr. Grayson, please describe your abilities in detail. The Planetary Alliance needs to assess their potential risk level."
The scientific research representative spoke first.
"You claim the Titan race took Nolan Grayson as a vessel. What is your evidence? Could this be a trap set by Viltrum or the Great Old Ones, intending to drag the Planetary Alliance into a war with an unknown civilization?"
This was the military representative, speaking aggressively.
"Earth, a world barely even a Tier 1 civilization, Mr. Grayson, how do you prove this isn't an… exaggeration by your collective or yourself to gain Planetary Alliance aid?"
This was the resource representative, with a mocking, oily tone.
"Young man."
The voice of the dovish representative for the protection of fringe civilizations carried a weary concern.
"Your power is astonishing, but also frightening."
"The Titans' gaze might be cast upon Planetary Alliance territory because of you. How can you guarantee that your very existence won't become the spark that ignites an even greater catastrophe?"
Mark stood under the spotlight, enduring the comprehensive questioning and pressure from the advanced civilizations.
He could feel Allan's worried gaze from the observer's gallery, and he could also sense the more naked greed and calculations hidden in the shadows.
That was a craving for the power of purification and a coveting of Earth's resources.
He took a deep breath; his molten-gold eyes held no anger, only a tranquil ocean.
He drew upon his experiences of dealing with Cecil at the GDA and arguing his case before Trigg, combining them with the Planetary Alliance political common sense Allan had taught him on the way, and began his statement.
There was no concealment, nor exaggeration.
The three-hour long detailed account occasionally left the committee members dumbfounded, whispering among themselves.
"I am here!"
Mark's voice was clear and firm, cutting through the clamor of the circular hall.
"Not to beg for mercy, but to seek cooperation and self-salvation."
"We have an old saying where I'm from, 'When an avalanche comes, no snowflake is innocent'…"
"Perhaps with cooperation, we all have hope; observing from the sidelines will lead to a shared grave."
His words contained no flowery language, only raw reality and heavy responsibility.
A brief silence fell over the hall.
The military representative frowned deeply, seemingly weighing the pros and cons; the scientific research representative's fiber optics flashed wildly, recording everything; the resource representative pursed his lips, noncommittal; and Elder Aethera sighed deeply, his worry deepening.
The hearing did not make an immediate decision, lapsing into a lengthy closed-door discussion.
Mark was arranged to temporarily stay in a heavily guarded, luxuriously equipped but suffocating diplomatic residence.
Allan went through great lengths to obtain a brief visitation permit.
"The situation is worse than expected."
Allan lowered his voice, his green face full of gravity.
"After the destruction of Viltrum Prime, the remaining Viltrum armies, rallied by Trigg, are frantically attacking Planetary Alliance fringe planets and trade routes near the original Viltrum territory, plundering resources and expanding their armaments."
"The voices of the hawkish faction in the council have grown louder. They want to use their main forces to wipe out the remnants and consolidate their territory, completely unwilling to divide their troops to search for the elusive Great Old Ones and Titan Clan."
Mark's heart sank.
This was the cruel reality of cosmic politics; self-interest always took precedence over morality and foresight.
"However, there's also good news."
Allan changed the subject, a glint flashing in his eyes.
"Your performance at the hearing impressed some people."
"Especially the dovish faction and some farsighted scientists. Elder Aethera of the dovish faction privately revealed to me that there's a secret project group within the scientific research council that has maintained sporadic but continuous attention on the Great Old Ones and Titan race, but they lacked firsthand information."
"The information you brought, especially about C'Thun's remains, is groundbreaking for them. They are willing to provide limited technical support, including some cutting-edge theories on energy purification, and… a fragment of an ancient star map that might be related."
Allan slipped an encrypted data chip into Mark's hand.
"These are the initial results of our contact, and there's more."
He lowered his voice even further.
"We received an encrypted message, its source… points to Trigg."
Mark's eyes narrowed.
The message content was extremely brief, just a string of obscure interstellar coordinates and a timestamp.
Allan brought up the star map to pinpoint the location.
"The coordinates point to a desolate star region far from major routes, known as the Void Graveyard, and the time is in three days."
"What does he want?" Mark frowned.
Trigg, that dangerous individual, contacting them now, was certainly not for reminiscing.
"I don't know."
Allan shook his head.
"But the message included half a sentence of an old Viltrum military identification code, verified as correct, it's definitely him."
"He might have discovered something. The risk is immense, but it might also be a clue."
Mark clutched the chip and the communicator recording Trigg's message.
The path to Planetary Alliance aid was fraught with thorns, Trigg's invitation was like a serpent's temptation, and Earth's time was rapidly running out.
His molten-gold eyes looked out at the brilliant yet cold star river of the Court of the Universe.
"Allan," Mark's voice held resolve.
"Use your authority to help me contact that secret project group of the scientific research council. I need to know everything they possess about the Great Old Ones and the Titans."
"As for Trigg…"
A sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
"Reply to him. I will go, but not on his time, on our time."
"Tell him, if he wants to cooperate, to show sincerity and… something that can move me."
Allan nodded and hurriedly left the diplomatic residence.
Mark sat at the cold alloy table, his fingertips unconsciously caressing the encrypted data chip Allan had given him.
Outside the window was an endless feast of stars, beneath its brilliance surged the cold calculations of the Planetary Alliance and the bloody undercurrent stirred by the Viltrum army.
…
Allan's efficiency was still very high; he delivered the news after only one night.
"Permission confirmed, visitor, Allan, Planetary Alliance Inspector."
A cold synthesized voice sounded, and the heavy alloy door slid open silently.
Allan's massive body squeezed in, bringing a breath of fresh air from the outside.
His face held no ease, only deeper worry and a hint of imperceptible excitement.
"It's done!" Allan whispered.
His rock-like thick fingers projected a constantly changing holographic star map onto the table, its core being the Void Graveyard coordinates provided by Trigg.
"The secret project group agreed to contact. Now, the escort vessel they sent, disguised as a garbage recycling ship, is docked in lower dock Z-7."
Mark suddenly opened his eyes, a golden flash appearing and vanishing.
"That fast? Aren't they afraid of being watched?"
"There are risks, of course."
Allan grinned, a bitter smile on his face.
"But you are too tempting for them, coupled with the residual data of Viltrum Prime's destruction… these are firsthand miracles they could barely touch even by exhausting all their resources."
"The dovish faction leaders of the scientific research council and several radical factions privately pushed for this meeting. Remember, they are not philanthropists, Mark."
"Knowledge exchange, each taking what they need!"
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