The Question of the Peak
Kaelen's thought lingered in the air, vibrating with the resonance of his crimson thread. He looked at Officer Hanes, who had begun to turn away, and asked the question that made the veteran pause.
"Officer... if the Node Stoppers are Level 600, then what does Level 1000 look like?"
Hanes stopped. He didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. He looked at the five-year-old with an expression that was part pity and part profound respect.
"Level 1000?" Hanes repeated the number as if it were a holy word. "Most scholars believe the scale ends at the Nexus Phase (Level 601–700). They say the human soul and the Ribbon can't hold more complexity than that without evaporating into the Fabric itself."
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that even the ship's sensors might struggle to pick up.
"But there are legends, Veyron. In the oldest archives of the UCC, there are mentions of the Origin Phase. If such a level as 1000 exists, it wouldn't be a person anymore. They wouldn't just use the Ribbon; they would be the Ribbon. They would be the ones who wrote the laws of physics that we are so busy trying to follow. To see a Level 1000 being would be like a drawing on a piece of paper trying to look up at the person holding the pen."
He straightened his uniform, his face returning to its professional mask. "But that is just ghost stories for pilots. No one has ever reached it. No one ever will. Stick to your path, Kaelen. The universe is big enough at Level 100."
The trip did not end with a quick return to the Academy. To truly instill a sense of awe and loyalty toward the UCC Federation, the students were taken from the mothership to one of the Level 500+ Space Fortresses orbiting the Node.
This was Aegis-7, a massive, self-sustaining city-station that functioned as a military bastion and a home for thousands of families of high-level personnel. It was perfectly safe, protected by layers of Fabric-phase shielding that shimmered like a diamond skin against the dark.
Life in the Fortress
Inside, the fortress was a marvel of engineering. The students were led through high-ceilinged residential zones where the air tasted of ozone and rain. They saw markets selling exotic goods from distant sectors and parks where the grass grew in patterns of golden light.
"The Federation provides this," Officer Hanes said, gesturing to the sprawling city within the metal. "This is what we protect. This is why you study Finance and History. This peace is bought by the Ribbon."
Mina looked around in wonder. "Kael, people actually live here? Right next to the end of the universe?"
"It's the safest place to be," Kaelen replied, sensing the massive energy stabilizers beneath the floor. "If the Node is the heart, the Fortress is the shield. The Federation isn't just a government; it's a life-support system."
The Mecha Guard: The Steel Inspection
As part of their stay, the UCC had arranged for a specialized Mecha Unit to inspect the students' progress. These weren't the massive dreadnought-frames used in war, but Tier-300 Loom-Phase Sentinels—sleek, humanoid machines that stood fifteen meters tall, their armor plated in reactive white chrome.
The pilots stepped out of their cockpits, their Level 200+ Strand-phase auras visible as a faint mist. They moved among the five-year-olds, checking the density of their Threads with haptic scanners.
"Your progress is acceptable, House Ignis," one of the pilots said, his voice amplified by his suit.
Kaelen stood before one of the dormant mechas, staring at the Interface Port where a pilot's Ribbon would plug into the machine. His curiosity was no longer just academic; he wanted to understand the connection.
"Sir?" Kaelen called out to a pilot named Lieutenant Roran. "Is the mecha an extension of your body, or are you an extension of the mecha?"
Roran looked down, impressed by the depth of the question. "At your level, Kaelen, you think of a tool as something you hold. But at the Loom Phase (Level 200+), the machine and the soul interlace. The mecha isn't a suit; it's a new set of nerves. If the machine feels pain, I feel pain. If I think 'move,' it moves faster than my own muscles could."
"And the Ribbon?" Kaelen asked, reaching out to touch the cold, humming metal of the leg. "Does it grow faster when you're synced?"
"It matures," Roran replied. "The machine demands more from you. It forces your Thread to become a Strand, and your Strand to become a Loom. You don't just use the power; you have to manage it."
The Seed of Ambition
That night, the students stayed in the Fortress guest quarters. Through the transparent floor, Kaelen could see the swirling vortex of the Node and the dark silhouettes of the Node Stoppers further out.
The awe the Federation wanted to instill had worked, but not in the way they intended for most children. While others felt small and protected, Kaelen felt a burning interest in the Mechanics of Sovereignty.