Chapter 163: Everyone Yearns for the Sky, Including Us
Aglaea proceeded to her second question, this one seeming to probe a matter closer to her own personal confusion.
"Second question: Why did you extend a helping hand to Okhema, to the Chrysos Heirs? What was your purpose in fighting Nikador and his minions, in protecting the people of this city?"
Hearing this, March 7th blurted out an answer almost without thinking, her tone laced with a genuine, almost comical surprise. "What kind of question is that? Haven't we always done things this way? When we see bad guys bullying people, when we see innocent folks who need help, isn't it only right to step in?"
"Helping the weak and the innocent—that's what we Nameless are supposed to do! There's no special 'why' about it!"
Her answer was simple, direct, and perhaps a bit blunt, but it was undeniably frank.
The golden thread wrapped around her wrist remained as placid as a calm sea, its light soft and steady, confirming the unvarnished truth of her words.
A flicker of something—a rare, almost imperceptible tremor—passed through Aglaea's eyes, which were so accustomed to seeing through schemes and calculations. She found it difficult to process. An organization with the power to traverse galaxies, and its members operated on a behavioral logic that was so… straightforward? So… simple?
Protecting the weak and the innocent? It sounded less like the operational directive of a star-spanning power and more like a knight's creed plucked from a children's fairy tale. Such an idealistic, almost naive motivation struck her as deeply unreal.
And yet, the unwavering calm of the golden thread was ironclad proof. What March 7th had said was her truest inner conviction, devoid of any falsehood.
Aglaea fell silent for several seconds, appearing to re-evaluate these three visitors from beyond the sky and the 'Nameless' philosophy they represented. She quickly reordered her slightly disarrayed thoughts and posed her final, most crucial question.
"Last question. Can you, and the companions you say are about to arrive, assure me that you will never harm the ordinary citizens of Okhema, and will never do anything to endanger their safety?"
Both March 7th and Dan Heng's eyes widened in surprise. They hadn't even formally requested their friends to come over yet, and somehow, Aglaea already knew. This leader's perceptive abilities were simply uncanny.
Dan Heng's reaction, however, was swifter and more composed; it was clear he had been prepared for this. His brow furrowed slightly as he responded, his tone firm and serious. "Ms. Aglaea, with all due respect, the very premise of your question is an insult to us."
He raised his wrist, displaying the golden thread wrapped around it, and met Aglaea's gaze directly. "We, and our companions, will never actively harm any innocent person. That is our fundamental principle."
"However," he continued, his voice unwavering, "ensuring our own safety is also our right. If someone actively provokes and attacks us, or threatens our lives, then you must forgive us for not simply sitting by and allowing ourselves to be slaughtered. What we hope for is peace and cooperation, not a one-sided, unrealistic guarantee. Please understand."
Dan Heng's answer was neither servile nor overbearing. It expressed goodwill while clearly drawing a red line. Throughout his speech, the golden thread on his wrist remained absolutely tranquil, proving that his words, too, came from the heart and were logically sound.
Aglaea listened quietly. She wasn't angered by Dan Heng's firm rebuttal; on the contrary, she seemed to have received a more genuine, more credible answer because of it.
She gave a slow, deliberate nod. "A very reasonable response. I understand. Please rest assured, Okhema will do its utmost to avoid any of the… 'unpleasant situations' you mentioned. We will restrain our citizens and ensure the safety and freedom of you and your companions during your time here."
With that, the inquiry seemed to conclude. Aglaea flicked her wrist, and the three golden threads unraveled, dissolving into motes of light that vanished into the air.
She looked at the trio, the severe expression on her face softening considerably. Finally, she made a request. "Lastly, I have one more humble plea."
"If your companions do arrive, please be sure to instruct them to try not to reveal their 'extraterrestrial' identity to the ordinary citizens of Okhema."
"After all, not everyone can openly accept and understand the concept of visitors from the stars. Too much attention might lead to unnecessary trouble and panic. I wonder… can you all agree to this small request?"
Her tone was no longer interrogative, but one of negotiation. It seemed that after the verification of the golden threads and their honest conversation, a foundation of trust was slowly being built.
March 7th thought Aglaea's request was perfectly reasonable; if anything, she felt the woman was being a little overly worried.
She confidently patted her chest and readily agreed. "No problem! Easy peasy! Leave it to us! You see, ever since we got to Okhema, haven't we just been telling everyone we're from some distant 'countryside'?"
"And we haven't been exposed yet, have we? Don't worry!" In her mind, concealing one's identity was just basic practice for blending into a new world—something they could do in their sleep.
Dan Heng, however, was thinking on a deeper level.
He didn't immediately second March 7th's assurance. Instead, his brow creased in thought as he posed a question of his own to Aglaea. "Ms. Aglaea, I have another question."
"Why do you—or rather, why does Okhema—shy away from the existence of 'outer worlds' to the point of needing to deliberately conceal it from the populace?"
His gaze was sharp, filled with inquiry. "You must know that curiosity and the desire for exploration are inherent to all intelligent life. People will instinctively yearn for the sky, eager to understand what lies beyond the stars. That innate drive cannot be stopped by mere prohibitions and concealment."
Aglaea showed no surprise at his question, as if she had been expecting it all along.
She let out a soft sigh, her gaze drifting toward the vast, swirling maw of the Genesis Vortex. Her voice carried a hint of deep weariness and helplessness.
"I know that. Amphoreus has never lacked for souls who yearn for the outside, who long for the stars."
Her voice caught for a moment, as if she were recalling a painful memory. "Once, there was a city-state that poured all its wisdom and longing into reaching those very stars."
Her voice deepened, growing heavy with sorrow. "However, just as they were about to touch the 'boundary' of their dreams… the Titan Aigler of the Sky brought down divine punishment."
"Without any warning, without any premonition… the entire city-state, along with all the dream-filled lives within it, was obliterated in an instant. It was completely wiped from the face of the earth, leaving behind nothing but an eternal scar."
Aglaea pulled her gaze back from the vortex and looked at Dan Heng, her eyes filled with a grave solemnity. "That is the answer, Mr. Dan Heng. Amphoreus is not unwilling to reach for the stars, nor does it lack the desire to explore."
"It's just that the sky is the domain of the gods. For us, it is a forbidden zone that must never be trespassed. This is a world dominated by Titans—a world that the Chrysos Heirs are destined to overthrow."
Aglaea's words fell like heavy stones, weighing down on everyone present.
A knot of unease tightened in March 7th's stomach. She had sensed something was fundamentally wrong with this world from the start, and now she was certain. This was a world crushed under the terrifying power of so-called "gods."
The existence of the Titan Aigler was like a Sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of all living beings, brutally interfering with and even stifling the natural development and choices of an entire civilization.
She frowned deeply, an intense discomfort rising within her at the thought of such tyrannical "divine authority."
Just as everyone was still processing this heavy and cruel historical truth, immersed in the oppressive atmosphere…
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