Stars See Me [Interstellar] | Chapter 97 | The Weight of the Crown | Novela.app

“Good morning,” a deep, magnetic, and authoritative voice rang out. It belonged to a tall, solemn figure, imposing as a mountain of iron. He stepped out from the elegantly decorated corridor behind the door, raising a hand to silently restore the bent digital pen to its straight form before letting it drift back to Susanna’s desk. As the pen neared the desk, a notification popped up on the top-right corner of the slanted tabletop—which was itself a giant touch screen: *Component connecting... Connection successful.* Indeed, as this military-grade digital pen—a piece of technology two generations ahead of civilian hardware—regained its shape, even its delicate internal circuitry, which should have been ruined, was fully repaired. All within the span of a simple morning greeting. One must understand that while matter-type espers could manipulate physical substances, they had no measuring tools to help them draw straight lines, nor templates to assist in precision machining. Such a feat, in the realms of civilization and construction, could only be described as "Divine Craftsmanship." This was the "Solar Star." Lucas snapped to attention, his gaze fixed forward as he saluted. “Good morning, sir!” The man wore a faceplate over the upper half of his face, its X-shaped visor silently isolating the transmission of light between the interior and exterior. These days, he rarely used his eyes to see; perhaps it was a form of long-term sensory training? Lucas didn’t know, and he didn’t dare to ask. Above the faceplate, the man’s pitch-black hair fell slightly past his shoulders. He wore a black, gold-trimmed light-armor uniform beneath a vast, heavy black cloak, secured by golden clasps that shimmered beside his epaulettes. Portions of the cloak that might have hindered movement were pleated and tucked behind the blade-like structures on the edges of his black-and-gold bracers. Yet, the first thing anyone noticed upon seeing him was the golden laurel crown upon his head. The crown’s design came from the hands of the Federation’s finest designers. Its laurel leaves were intricate, magnificent, and elegantly layered, set with a pair of brilliant, crimson diamond-shaped gemstones. During the preparation phase, the workshop—the size of a football field—had been filled with display racks of samples used just to test different craftsmanship techniques and material compatibility. In the end, the Federation chose the most fitting materials: an alloy from the Federation’s First Materials Laboratory, rubies unearthed during the initial development of the Capital Star, and... ...A small amount of rare, high-purity gold obtained by melting down and repeatedly refining precious metal ornaments left over from the era of the Origin System. Thus, this newly forged laurel was plated with the very weight of history. “No need to be so tense, Luca,” Lei Ting said, his gaze softening as he spoke in a low voice. “Furthermore, Shane is a key figure because of his power.” He clearly knew of the prior conversation between Lucas and Susanna, but this was hardly surprising. His power had long since enveloped the entire fleet of the First Legion; even now, faint flickers of golden light drifted through Susanna’s office. When that radiance touched a person, it left behind a trace of gentle warmth. That was the light of the current "Solar Star." For five years, it had surrounded Lei Ting wherever he went, bringing all information, intelligence, and metallic matter under his control, with no intention of being subtle. In terms of sheer power, his position in the Federation was now unshakable. “Power...” Lucas murmured. “But that ‘S-rank’ is too unstable.” “Instability only leads to faster evolution,” Lei Ting said. “That is exactly what they want.” By now, he had recalled some of the "plot"—or rather, the events that were originally destined to occur. In that story, Shane’s mental state was only stable for the first few years, after which he fell into a state of constant upheaval. He was a person starved for affection, and so, when a mature, handsome male Alpha from the Federation’s high-ranking officials began a romantic pursuit, Shane quickly succumbed. But his emotional life was far from smooth—or rather, it was fraught with endless turmoil. From the very beginning, that official had approached him specifically so that Shane would gain love only to lose everything, using the resulting agony to trigger the evolution of his abilities through external influence. Ultimately, he was meant to become a strategic weapon, encased in a vat and hooked to an instrument for long-range strikes. If Lei Ting didn’t know about this, he naturally wouldn't interfere in someone else’s personal affairs. But since he knew now, and indeed possessed evidence that the relevant events were unfolding, he was going to meddle, regardless of his motives. After all, if those people succeeded in their plans, it would be bad for everyone—especially Shane. The "protagonist’s" personality was exceptionally kind; he never wanted to become a weapon of slaughter. Of course, someone else’s personality had nothing to do with Lei Ting. The problem was that even if the person who deliberately approached Shane eventually "fell in love" with him, the civilians who died during their dramatic entanglements could never be brought back to life. Lei Ting spent a moment recalling the several planetary-scale disasters caused by that unidentified Alpha in the "plot" to achieve his goals, and he sighed softly. Though he didn't know how that "story" ended... he had no intention of letting anyone continue a script that used the deaths of ordinary people to achieve private ends or to serve as a backdrop for their own romance. Torturing others for one’s own selfish desires was not "freedom" or "rights." Moreover, Shane was also a "citizen of the Federation" whom he was sworn to protect. He was definitely meddling in this. “In short, keep an eye on him,” Lei Ting said as he walked past Lucas. “Some people want him to be nothing more than power and a husk. We cannot let them have their way.” He crossed Susanna’s office, his vast, heavy black cloak fluttering behind him. Before he stepped through the door into his own office, Susanna suddenly asked, “Do ‘those people’ have anything to do with what happened back then?” “Perhaps, perhaps not.” Lei Ting waved a hand without looking back. “Get ready. After this resource collection mission, I need to leave for a while...” “Where are you going?” “The Ring World,” Lei Ting said. “They’ve been holding meetings for five years, and they’ve finally figured out how they want to face me.” “Well, they certainly deserve praise for that,” Susanna snorted. “The itinerary is arranged.” In the span of a single breath, she had already sent out every document required for "Lei Ting’s Departure." Lei Ting wasn't surprised. He offered a polite word of thanks and entered his office. Outside the closed door, the two remained in silence. After a moment, Lucas let out a long sigh of relief, refocusing his intentionally vacant gaze. “I’m finding it harder and harder to look him in the eye. Even with the visor...” “You know he can hear you, right?” Susanna said without looking up from her desk. “Of course... but he wouldn't get angry over something like that,” Lucas replied with a lighthearted smile. Soon after, the golden "Young Master of the Corn Factory" left with his glowing mission tasks, and Susanna returned to her work. As for Lei Ting... he sat suspended in the air of his empty office, staring blankly at a massive, one-way floor-to-ceiling window over a hundred meters in diameter. As the mechanical structures of his faceplate retracted into the sides of his head, his brilliant eyes reflected the distant starry sky and crimson nebulae. Faint golden light radiated from the pupils of his irises—the result of his never-ending supply of super-power. It made his vision sharp to a staggering degree, but he generally didn't look at objects with his physical eyes. Vision could deceive him, but the perception protected by "Immobility" would not. It was almost laughable. It wasn't until his former classmates and friends were nearly all dead that he finally realized the power of the "Solar Star" should never have been at the level it was five years ago. It wasn't that he couldn't do certain things; it was that he wasn't "mad" enough, instinctively believing he was incapable. He truly didn't understand himself. Of course... he understood himself well enough now. For the sake of the "prices" paid by those who had left him, he had to. Lei Ting closed his eyes, floating quietly in his "office." This room, which integrated various functions like a living area and a training ground, was a self-contained space—a vast, empty void a hundred meters high and two hundred meters wide. All necessary equipment was hidden beneath the floor and within the walls. When he needed them, he would "pull" them out or operate them directly through the thick layers of metal. Whether through his perception or his current eyes that could see through any metal, nothing here could obstruct him. The only normal way for others to enter was through Susanna’s office, which made his daily life a bit quieter. ...Mostly. In fact, even putting aside the perception that constantly blanketed the entire fleet, he was never truly "quiet." Endless, fragmented whispers echoed in his mind. They did not correspond to any language in the material universe, but an esper who had established a stable link with the "Ethereal Plane" could understand them through psychic power. It was impossible to discern the gender, age, or race of those whispers. Some were filled with malice, others seemed like benevolent invitations... of course, most were just rambling, broken murmurs. Yet they echoed with absolute clarity in his mind, waves of them inducing negative emotions that ordinary people would find impossible to resist. Then they broke against Lei Ting like waves against a cliff, unable to even cause him a night of insomnia. Regarding these whispers, Lei Ting now knew their source. Simply put, they were called "Whispers"—a wondrous little local specialty of the Ethereal Plane, much like "Abyssal Demons," "Curses," and "Superpower Entities." The influence of "Whispers" could be neutralized by both superpower and psychic strength, but ordinary people whose levels in these two areas were too weak would mostly fast-forward straight to madness—that is, "Aberration"—and then join those monsters if they couldn't beat them. Even for normal espers, if they were psychologically fragile or had suffered trauma deep enough to leave a shadow in their hearts, they might not last a few rounds. Furthermore, even if psychic and superpower strength could offset the influence, the fact that "the stronger one's psychic power, the easier it is to sense disturbances upon contact with related information" meant that "establishing a connection with the Ethereal Plane" was not a good thing for an esper of any rank. Therefore, major powers usually employed means to blockade intelligence regarding the "Ethereal Plane" within a certain scope. Some espers might go their entire lives without knowing such a thing existed, let alone ordinary people. Sometimes, concealment was indeed for protection. Information was as highly contagious as a virus, and the effects of aberration were completely irreversible. If one merely saw an Abyssal Demon and thought of it as "a kind of monster," it was fine... but the moment one recognized the information that "ordered beings can be transformed into Abyssal Demons," especially if they witnessed the process of other individuals in their environment undergoing aberration, the problem became dire. *** **Glossary**