"Quit messing with me—even if that thing is from the gods—"
Ralph's words were cut off as the cabin began to shake more violently. He gripped the handrail tightly, glancing at Arthur in panic.
"Hey, hey, Arthur—don't tell me you're doing this too?"
Arthur shrugged, flipping the metal ornament between his fingers again in front of Ralph.
So it was the ornament!
The moving cabin jolted violently once more. But how could something so small have enough power to shake the entire Aurelia?
"Hey, stop! Stop!" Ralph's face turned ashen as he stared at the wildly swaying handrails. "Arthur, cut it out! If you keep spinning it, the cabin'll shake right off the tracks!" He pressed himself tightly against his seat, practically lying flat.
The cabin lights flickered, seemingly disrupted by the power supply.
"I stopped spinning it ages ago. Isn't the shaking getting worse now?"
"Oh my god."
The shaking didn't subside when Arthur stopped—it only grew more intense. They felt like they were on a carnival pirate ship, the tremors pushing the cabin's connection hooks to their limit.
Ralph pressed his back against the opposite seat, lowering his hips; Arthur clung to the handrail, hooking his feet around the exit railing. Both tensed up, dark thoughts flooding their minds.
Then they saw something strange: everything in front of them 扭曲 like water ripples. The distorted vision made them dizzy, and the combined effect of shaking and visual disorientation stirred a fierce nausea in their stomachs.
Right before they were about to vomit, the twisted scene snapped back like stretched rubber, returning to normal in an instant.
As the chaos faded, the two stared at each other in silence.
But the anomalies weren't done with them. A faint vibration began in the cabin, reigniting their tension. The vibration grew more noticeable, accompanied by a low, rumbling hum that buzzed in their ears.
The stone in Ralph's hand lit up with a blue glow.
"Ralph, tell me that's not a hallucination," Arthur said, his voice tight as he looked at Ralph and the glowing stone.
"Ha—if it is, we both need to check into a hospital," Ralph replied.
"Why's it glowing now?"
"Don't ask me—this is only the second time I've seen it do this."
The rumbling grew louder, erupting in their bodies like a shockwave. A powerful, low-frequency hum pulsed through them—strong enough to make their hearts skip a beat.
The ornament in Arthur's hand was suddenly wrenched from his grip, floating into the air and disassembling on its own. The triangular segments arranged themselves into a circle, spinning while resonating with the rumble.
"Hiss—"
The same thing happened to Ralph: a force pried his fingers open, sending the stone flying and knocking him off his seat.
The two objects emitted resonant light, orbiting each other like binary stars. After circling a few times, they flashed with a blinding white light, merging into one before falling to the floor.
In that instant, all anomalies ceased.
The two stared at the object lying on the ground, then at each other, wordless for a moment.
"Hey, Ralph. What the hell just happened?"
"I was gonna ask you the same thing—what did you do to it?"
Ralph hooked his hand over the seat, rubbing his wrist where the force had wrenched it free. The impact had slammed his hand against the seat base—it wasn't a light blow. Arthur pulled him to his feet, and while Ralph straightened his clothes, Arthur bent down to pick up the object that had terrified them. Ralph turned around just in time to see Arthur reach for it—but it was too late.
The moment Arthur's fingers touched the ornament, a fierce, rapid tremor pulsed through his body, then faded like a receding wave. The cabin went pitch-black instantly, leaving only the dim exit light glowing. The sudden blackout made both men realize something was seriously wrong.
A loud "clang" echoed from above—the brakes had clearly engaged. But the abrupt jolt sent them stumbling forward, and the cabin lurched again, repeating the cycle several times. Each time the brakes engaged and failed, the cabin shook harder.
The sound of brakes locking up rang out again, and Ralph's face paled with terror.
"No way—again?!"
This time, the lurch was even stronger. They'd be lucky if the cabin didn't shake off the tracks entirely. But until it did, they had no choice but to endure the tossing.
Loose objects in the cabin flew everywhere. Arthur tumbled forward in a clumsy heap; Ralph rolled off the floor onto a seat, then fell back down.
Arthur lost his balance and lunged for the central handrail. He spun around, sliding his back along the pole to steady himself. Next, he planned to roll forward to regain his balance—but a dark shape came tumbling toward him. It was Ralph.
Ralph's sudden appearance threw off Arthur's rhythm, catching him off guard. Arthur's foot, which he'd planted to land, kicked Ralph square on. The force sent Arthur flying through the air, slamming into the front glass.
A sharp crack sounded. He bounced off into a seat, then was thrown to the floor as the cabin lurched again.
His mind was a fog—he barely registered Ralph's frantic shouts. A dark object jutted out of the dimness, hurtling straight at him.
It happened too fast. Before he could lift his hand to block, a harsh, burning pain exploded across his forehead. Dizziness and intense throbbing tormented his head. His vision went completely dark—faint golden specks seemed to flicker for a moment before fading into the blackness.
"Arthur! Arthur..."
Ralph's cries grew farther and farther away.
On the planet Saya, starlight filtered through the thin atmosphere, deepening the vivid red of the soil. The parched land looked as if it had never seen rain—everywhere you looked, there was only rock and gravel.
Several towering defense turrets stood among the sand dunes, connected by cables laid in deep trenches. From space, they formed a massive circular array. At the center of the circle sat a large base—shorter than most fortresses, since most of its structure was built underground.
Inside the base, the clatter of machinery hummed faintly. Intricate pipes lined the ceiling of the corridors; iron railings on both sides marked a clear path, with large pipelines branching off to the surrounding areas. No one knew what gas flowed through the pipes—only that a constant hissing sound filled the air.
The end of the corridor split into two paths. Taking the right one, they descended a staircase, passed through two levels, and reached an elevator. Until then, every level had to be accessed by stairs.
Inside the elevator, there were no floor buttons—it closed its doors automatically and started moving. Glimpses of faintly glowing metal pipes flashed by as it descended rapidly. The deeper it went, the clearer the clatter of machinery became.
Stepping out of the elevator, they saw tall iron grilles ahead, behind which stood a power pump. Giant drive shafts dug deep into the ground on either side—the source of the clattering. Every rotation of the shafts hit the pistons mounted on them, activating the pump—a surprisingly traditional method of generating power.
To the right was an eight-meter-tall iron door, not fully closed. Beyond it, the space opened up suddenly, soaring dozens of meters high. Light streamed down from above, illuminating only parts of the room; dust particles danced in the light like a thin white mist.
Iron crates were piled everywhere, their labels indicating they contained supplies. But such labels rarely appeared on legitimate cargo—and the crates came from countless different regions. Anyone with experience would know they were likely looted from transport ships, including the sealed crates stacked in the corner.
There were dozens of doors here, but one had a special mark—and it was the only one with light seeping through the gap. Pushing it open revealed a bright laboratory, filled with equipment and researchers focused on their work. They held data pads, discussing a wooden box separated from them by glass.
After leaving the laboratory, the corridor began to slope upward—each step required more effort. The lights dimmed again, then brightened once they entered an eight-meter-wide passage.
Minutes later, the passage narrowed at a turn, becoming a three-meter-wide corridor with 岔路口 at the end. Guards stood on either side of the 岔路口,their weapons loaded with special electromagnetic bullets—said to pierce fifty-centimeter-thick steel plates.
Turning left, they found more people coming and going, and slightly more space. The armory, warehouses, storage rooms, living quarters, and mess hall all seemed to be concentrated here. At the end of the corridor was a spiral staircase leading upward.
Climbing the stairs for roughly two levels brought them to a vast platform. Light from wall-mounted tubes spread outward, again only illuminating certain areas. The structure here was hexagonal; far above, a glass-like barrier let in most of the light. It looked no bigger than a copper coin from below, but it was probably nearly a hundred meters wide.
The walls here were made of rock, glistening slightly with moisture. Below, more heavy iron doors lined the perimeter—each guarded by sentries. One door stood out: significantly shorter than the others on either side. The two guards in front of it were different too—taller, with striking features.
Above the door was a large one-way glass panel, making it impossible to see inside.
Behind the iron door was a winding stone staircase, its uneven surface clearly hand-carved. A cool, damp chill seeped from the stone. As they climbed, faint music drifted over, mixed with the sound of two people talking.
Through a crack in the door, they saw a 1.6-meter-tall man standing with his hands behind his back, facing a superior seated at a desk. The superior had his back to him, his feet propped up on a windowsill cabinet. The superior was enormous, with bright red skin—like a boulder slumped in the chair. One hand hung over the armrest, holding a lit pipe; smoke curled behind him, drifting upward.
"Lieutenant, how's the progress on that matter?" the superior asked, his voice hoarse and deep.