Aboard the *Sun*, a woman of ordinary yet striking beauty set down her external terminal. Looking somewhat weary, she leaned back into her levitating chair and gazed out at the starry expanse beyond the window.
She was currently ferrying the latest class of cadets toward the Capital System—this was her mission.
Almost no one knew that the entirety of this vintage starship was an illusion, and that she—or rather, ‘It’—had been paying the price to maintain that illusion.
And where did that price come from?
*From people,* she thought.
After only a few hours of waiting, the person she was expecting returned from the other side of the stars.
“What happened?” A voice spoke as a flash of golden light appeared.
“You’ve arrived, Little Lei,” the Principal said with a smile, turning her head.
“Little Lei”—in private, It, or perhaps ‘she,’ always addressed Lei Ting this way. She was the only person in the world, and likely the last, who would ever call him that.
Lei Ting did not fly; instead, he walked to her side and looked down at that familiar face.
She handed him an offline data pad. He took it and scanned the dense, dizzying rows of recorded data.
It contained information regarding celestial bodies within the galaxy suspected of having structural issues. Or rather, it was information on stars where enemies might be ‘buried.’
Lei Ting was somewhat surprised. He had originally thought she called him here to fulfill some past promise, but… even if the information wasn't entirely comprehensive, this seemed to be… a gesture of help?
“‘Gaze’ saw this moment long ago,” the Principal said with a smile. “It ‘stands’ over ‘there,’ and during these years on my ship, we have been looking outward…”
She reached out, intending to pat Lei Ting on the shoulder, only to realize he was now far too tall. To reach him, she would have to maneuver her chair upward.
But that would feel too deliberate, and she didn't have the energy for it right now.
The Principal’s hand paused, and she prepared to change her target to the armor on Lei Ting’s arm.
However, she was surprised to see Lei Ting suddenly lean down, presenting his double-layered pauldron to her.
“Good, good boy.” The Principal’s smile brightened. She gave the pauldron two heavy thumps, then withdrew her numbed hand amidst the *thump-thump* of the impact. “I won’t ask what you’re doing. But take care of yourself; you are our hope.”
“You overpraise me,” Lei Ting sighed.
Hope? That was too heavy a burden. He could only do his best, but as for what results would actually be achieved… no one knew.
“Shane asked me to take one of your men away,” the Principal said with a shrug. “Are you aware of this?”
“I am. A medical talent named Cen. He was infected with a virus and is currently in the combat sequence, maintaining his sanity via a controller. The documents for his personnel transfer and management clearance were approved by my assistant,” Lei Ting replied. He knew about it, of course; he just hadn't given it much thought. “Nearly ten years ago, I had a brief encounter with him.”
“Then do you know why Shane wanted to take this person?” the Principal asked with a smile.
“To develop the Resistance’s medical and precision processing systems, and to attempt to treat my partner,” Lei Ting said matter-of-factly.
“…” The Principal was momentarily choked by his tone. “So you really do know that Shane isn't one of ‘your people’ either.”
“I have no ‘own people,’ including Evenheiler, and including you all,” Lei Ting said, shaking his head calmly. “The galaxy is not yet so tolerant, Principal. You know that if a person has everything, they become the bird that gets shot first.”
“Are you not ‘standing out’ enough already?”
“Which is why I cannot have everything,” Lei Ting said. He seemed to find this logic perfectly natural.
“You know, before you arrived, I actually wanted to ask you some questions,” the Principal sighed. “Like, ‘If I and your ideals both fell into the water, which would you save?’ and then replacing ‘me’ with your soldiers, your people, that silly partner of yours…”
“Why aren't you asking now?” Lei Ting tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “It would be a good way to start a conversation.”
“Because I realized that if it were you, you would turn the question back on me—” The Principal leaned back into her chair, a smile of both melancholy and relief on her face. “—‘If someone must be sacrificed, why can’t it be me?’ That’s what you would ask, because that’s what you would do. Many people think you are heartless and dull, but I know you have nothing to do with those two words.”
“Or perhaps I do,” Lei Ting said softly.
The implication of his words stunned the Principal. She sat up abruptly and turned to look at him.
“Sacrifice is not priceless,” Lei Ting said.
He looked out into the starry sky, crossing his arms. His words were brief yet profound.
“I am not some priceless treasure that can buy our entire race, Principal,” he said. “Even if I can be spent like a large bill, someone still has to provide the small change—someone has to stockpile the deposits in the vault where humanity buys its life.
“I hope those people can be my peers—they became soldiers, and the burden they carry is already different from that of ordinary people.”
“So you allow the various legions to slaughter one another in the war zones, with the daily casualty counts equaling your entire graduating class?” the Principal asked, her expression turning grim.
“I cannot protect everyone,” Lei Ting said.
He raised his hand and summoned a pitch-black alloy cube, flicking it lightly to make it emit a sharp, ringing hum in the empty hangar.
“Those who couldn't do this could have chosen to apply to ordinary colleges or pursue other professions. At the very least, they could live on federal relief. As long as they have hands and feet, they wouldn't fail to survive.” As he spoke, he thought of the little girl he had met years ago, and many others—
“—Perhaps many joined the military just to follow in their fathers' footsteps within a certain faction, or to take advantage of the benefits,” he said. “But a soldier is a soldier. We are all just gears maintaining peace. In this matter, the only difference between me and them is our position and size.”
“Fair enough.” The Principal nodded. “It seems I don't need to test you further. The things you’ve foreseen and the preparations you’ve made are more than I imagined.”
*Of course… he had ‘foreseen’ an entire future.* Lei Ting thought.
Fighting for decades, holding on for over a dozen years, and then stagnating for centuries in the chaotic gaps during the final reversal of time…
It was a truly dull yet thrilling future.
“Right, regarding the future,” Lei Ting said, casually folding away the data pad he had finished reading intermittently. “I have a suggestion…”
“What is it?”
“After this trip, don't set sail again for a while, Principal.”
Lei Ting looked toward the distant stargates. He recognized them—they were ‘Chang’an’ and ‘Rome.’
“The monitoring I placed outside the galaxy tells me that a shockwave from billions of years ago will reach the Milky Way before the end of the year, and the Orion Arm will be the first to be hit.
“Its impact is not based on the level of conventional physics. By then, the influence will completely cover the entire galaxy within ten years. Almost all technical means based on the ‘Starnet’ will ‘temporarily’ fail, and its lingering effects are terrifying—perhaps for the next ‘several thousand years,’ none of us will have a Starnet to use.”
Facing the Principal’s dumbfounded expression—which screamed both *“What, you brat, you’ve actually stretched your hand out that far, how many more secrets are you hiding?”* and *“Wait… what the hell?! The Starnet is going to blow?! Why didn't ‘Gaze’ mention this?!”*—Lei Ting suddenly gave a rare grin.
“Don't panic,” he said unhurriedly. “The shock itself will arrive faster than any observable warnings. At that time, for a period that will feel very long to humans, no one will be able to cause us trouble anymore… and we will have the room to solve all our problems.”
This was the leverage that allowed him to blow up the relationship between the Consortium and the Human Federation right now.
“No, wait a second…” The Principal suddenly realized a massive problem. “An explosion of this intensity… it shouldn't just interfere with the Milky Way, right? And environmental changes of this magnitude will tear apart all interstellar civilizations!!”
Without the Starnet, the navigation and communication methods of almost all civilizations would temporarily collapse. Without true hyper-space transfer technology, the star maps of every civilization’s territory would instantly shrink by at least four-fifths.
More terrifyingly, whether it was the four-fifths cut off or the one-fifth remaining, if planets far from the center of power lacked communication and instructions for a long time, they would inevitably fracture!
Even people in planetary-surface civilizations would declare themselves kings because the ‘Emperor’ was far away—how much more so in the interstellar era?!
“Yes. Fragmentation, war, and disaster are inevitable. Except for a few civilizations whose technology does not rely on the Starnet, the general environment will inevitably change, and that is only a precursor to an even greater disaster.” Lei Ting spread his hands. “But I guarantee—we will be an exception.”
He pulled up a 3D star map. It was the controllable star territory currently held by the Human Federation, a model he had built himself that differed slightly from the military star maps.
“I will notify the entire galaxy of this disaster’s existence, but not now.” As Lei Ting spoke, he tapped the dense clusters of red dots surrounding the Federation’s territory. “See these? Hundreds of thousands of hostile targets, each representing an alien army group from the Perseus Arm. The powers behind them rely on the Starnet. I must ensure they don't have time to react to the Starnet’s collapse…”
“Wait, you still haven't answered my question—this event, it affects more than just the Milky Way, doesn't it?” The Principal’s brow was furrowed tight. “You know, we sometimes communicate with those outside the galaxy—during the electromagnetic fluctuations that occur once every century…”
“Of course.” Lei Ting nodded. “But from now on… I don't know how many messages will be able to respond to us, Principal.
“I suspect the volume of the Starnet is simply too vast—so vast that under this conceptual weapon aimed specifically at it, even the process of its destruction will be as long as the half-life of a star.”
***
