Chương 380: A Foreign Sky

The crimson lightning array struck my coordinate with the frantic, snapping rattle of a thousand small firecrackers. A dome of red dust and iron-shards constructed itself around me, the kinetic mana humming as it attempted to latch onto my gravity field. It was a Tier 4 "Sealing Web" — noisy, volatile, and highly physical, designed to compress the spatial channels of anyone caught within its radius. I didn't move. I didn't even bother to flare my star-cores.

I simply stood there under the [Nullifying Veil], letting the kinetic spears and lightning-arcs hit the passive barrier of my suppressed mass. The moment the red lightning touched the boundary of my gravity, the kinetic energy was instantly siphoned, dissolved into inert heat that dissipated into the dry, sulfurous wind. While they chanted, I observed them. The planet's sun was a bloated, dying red dwarf, casting a dim, copper-toned twilight across the vast rust-sand basin.

Because G-42 received less than a tenth of the solar radiation that Ferra did, these beings had evolved precisely to survive the dark. Their oversized, liquid-black eyes were giant spheres designed for maximum light absorption. Their pale, ash-grey skin lacked any protective melanin, and their bulbous, hairless craniums housed a highly developed telepathic organ. I had to suppress a dry, internal chuckle. It turned out my old world's science fiction had been onto something, or perhaps it wasn't fiction at all.

Beside me, the violet-black portal finally tore fully open, stabilizing into a solid, whispering archway of spatial coordinates.

"Eren?" Anna's voice chimed through our private [Symphony] link.

"We're ready on this side. What's the situation?"

"The local welcoming committee is currently trying to cook me in a dome of red firecrackers," I projected back.

"But they're also currently hyperventilating because their spells are hitting an invisible wall. Step through. You'll handle the talking much better than I will." Anna stepped through the violet light first, her blue silk travel robes fluttering in the dry, sulfurous wind of G-42. She was followed by Lucas, who carried our diplomatic chests with an easy, relaxed posture.

"Nice cape, Mr. Extraterrestrial," Anna teased silently through our link, her eyes twinkling as she looked at the copper-masked Greys.

"Did you bring them in peace, or are we about to have an intergalactic incident?"

"We are the aliens here, Anna," I noted dryly.

"They're the ones on their own lawn." The moment my friends stepped through, the fifty Grey guards simultaneously recoiled. Through my [Void-Lattice Perception], I felt a wave of cold, absolute terror ripple through their collective mind. They possessed a communal, hive-like emotional lattice; when one of them felt the sheer, crushing density of Lucas' Tier 6 presence and Anna's temporal resonance, the fear cascaded through the entire group like wind passing through tall grass.

They realized, with a sickening clarity, that we could have painted the red sands with their blood before their first spell-chant had even finished. I raised my open hands, dropping my [Nullifying Veil] just enough to properly manifest my physical form. I gestured peacefully, taking the diplomatic chests from Lucas and setting them gently onto the rust-colored sand.

"We come in peace," I said, my voice carrying a low, structured resonance that bypassed the wind.

"We are neighbors from the central system of this Sector. We detected your scrying signal, and we came to talk. I would like to meet your leaders." The Grey guards stared at me, their giant, pupil-less black eyes reflecting my black armor. They huddled together, communicating in a series of rapid, high-frequency telepathic pulses that sounded like clicking glass in my mind. Finally, an elder Grey wearing a silver-threaded, iron-woven robe stepped forward.

His hands were trembling so hard he almost dropped his copper staff. He pulled off his mask, revealing a smooth, jawless face and a tiny, slit-like mouth.

"You... you do not eat our records?" the elder clicked, his translation array struggling with our dialect.

"You do not come to collect the toll of the high floors?"

"We aren't sent by any System," I said.

"And we aren't your lords. We also brought some gifts; a sample of goods we can trade with potential partners." I opened the first chest, revealing the glowing green vials of Eliza's cellular-restoration salves and the rich, nutrient-dense spirit-wheat bread-rounds. The sweet, buttery scent of the baked goods instantly cut through the sulfurous air, causing several of the younger guards to visibly flinch, their nostrils flaring as their mouths watered.

The elder stared at the food, then at the portal, and finally bowed his bulbous head.

"Come. The Queen has authorized your transit." We followed the guards into a deep, jagged canyon that wound into the heart of the copper-red mountains. Their city was a marvel of subterranean engineering. They had carved a colossal, honeycomb-like network of apartments, plazas, and nurseries directly into the volcanic basalt. Because G-42's surface was so hostile, their entire civilization lived underground, lit by glowing, bioluminescent mosses and thermal-conduits that hummed with unrefined fire-mana.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Their social structure was a fascinating, highly coordinated hive-hierarchy. They weren't mindless drones — each had a distinct personality and thoughts — but they were constantly linked to a central emotional lattice overseen by the Queen. It was a natural, biological network that made crime or deceit nearly impossible within their borders. We were led into a grand, honeycomb chamber at the center of the city.

Sitting on a raised dais of polished, black basalt were the Queen and King. The Queen was slightly taller, her grey skin wreathed in a flowing gown of woven copper-threads. The King sat beside her, his large head adorned with a crown of raw, unpolished kinetic quartz. They looked regal, but their giant black eyes carried a deep, crushing exhaustion.

"Travelers," the Queen's voice echoed in our minds — a telepathic projection that was smooth, polite, but heavily strained.

"We welcome you to Node G-42. I am Queen Zeta, and this is King Puk. Why have masters and Sovereigns like yourselves come to our dark world?"

"We detected a highly specific, high-frequency scrying probe hitting our planet," I said, taking a step forward.

"It carried a unique, conceptual signature. We came to ask why you were attempting to scry our world, and how you managed to bypass the sector's local monitoring arrays to send it." The King and Queen exchanged a silent, telepathic look, their emotional lattice pulsing with a sudden, anxious static. As they communicated, my [Void-Lattice Perception] scanned the room. My eyes locked onto a quiet, small Grey boy standing near the Queen's throne.

He looked no older than ten in human years, his grey skin pale, his head slightly oversized even for his species. But his soul-signature was a vibrant, sapphire-gold current that matched the scrying probe's frequency exactly.

"It was him," I said, pointing directly at the boy.

"The probe's signature belongs to your son." The chamber went completely, deathly silent. The boy shrank back, trying to hide behind the Queen's copper-silk gown.

"Eren?" Anna silently asked through our link, her hand resting on her blue robe.

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent," I projected back.

"The soul-resonance is an exact match. He's the one who knocked on our door." The Queen placed a gentle, four-fingered hand on her son's shoulder, her eyes softening as she looked down at him.

"It is alright, Zath. The Travelers already know. Speak the truth." The boy, Zath, took a hesitant step forward, his giant black eyes looking at my black carapace with a mixture of terror and awe.

"I... I did not mean to spy," the boy whispered telepathically, his voice carrying the soft, high-pitched resonance of a child.

"I awakened a strange, sleeping ability within my soul. The System calls it [Wish Upon a Star]. It allows me to... to make a wish. A conceptual request to the universe." My star-cores gave a soft, appreciative thrum. A conceptual wish ability. That was a mythic-tier soul-bound skill, incredibly rare even in the higher courts.

"We were desperate," Zath continued, his grey scales shifting to a sad, muted grey.

"Our world is dying. The system's integration dropped, but our crops are rotting, and the monsters from the deep canyons are hunting our nurseries. I... I wished for our planet to be saved. The wish took all of my soul-mana. It took my reserves and blocked me from accumulating any mana for... I cannot make another wish for a year. But the wish... it sent a probe into the dark, looking for someone strong enough to help us." He looked up at me, his tiny mouth trembling.

"The probe found your planet. It found your light. You must be the one who answered my call!" I stared at him, my [Void-Lattice Perception] decoding the residual mana-channels of his soul. The kid was telling the truth. The wish had completely drained his internal star-core, leaving him physically weak but conceptually connected to our coordinates.

"A soul-bound conceptual request," I murmured, loud enough for the chamber to hear.

"That explains how it bypassed our monitoring and defensive arrays. The System's quarantine blocks physical and digital incursions, but it cannot block a purely unregulated soul-bound ability." The Queen and King stared at me, their emotional lattice pulsing with absolute shock.

"You... you heard his whisper?" the King asked, his telepathic voice cracking.

"Our telepathic barriers are constructed of deep-basalt alloy... no external entity should have been able to hear his voice through the stone. It's not supposed to be heard just… followed."

"I have a very good ear," I said dryly. Anna stepped beside me, her silver eyes warm as she looked at the young boy.

"Why does your planet need saving? What is happening in your deep canyons?" The Queen let out a long, heavy sigh, her copper gown rustling.

"It is a long, dark story, Travelers. And our nurseries have been cold for many months. Perhaps... we can discuss this over a meal?"

"A meal sounds excellent," I agreed, gesturing to Lucas.

"And we brought some of our own food to share. It is custom where we came from."

"It is the same for us," the Queen smiled, a thin, graceful expression. We gathered at a long, basalt table in the adjacent banquet hall. Lucas and Eliza began unpacking the diplomatic chests, filling the stone table with caramelized spirit-wheat bread-rounds, sweet honey-glaze pears from Bastion's high-gardens, and thick, roasted pepper-steaks. The Greys sat opposite us, their giant black eyes staring at the food in absolute, paralyzed wonder.

Based on my observations, these people were used to eating dry, sulfurous cave-fungi and thin, metallic lichen-broths. The sheer, decadent sweetness of our high-tier, nutrient-dense food was a sensory overload they weren't prepared for. Zath took the first bite of a honey-pear, and his eyes literally went wide, his skin flaring into a brilliant, glowing turquoise. Within minutes, the aristocratic manners of the local court completely dissolved.

Several of the younger nobles were practically stuffing their faces with the spirit-wheat bread, their four-fingered hands covered in honey-glaze as they chewed with a frantic, joyful desperation.

"Manners!" Queen Zeta scolded, though she herself was currently holding a piece of the caramelized bread with a look of extreme, silent bliss.

"We are hosts to the central sovereigns! Behave yourselves!" I watched them, a genuine, warm feeling settling in my chest. I was glad Anna, Lucas, and Eliza had come after all. Their warm, normal presence had completely defused the tension of a potential war-zone, turning an armed ambush into a peaceful dinner. After the meal, the Queen and King led Anna, Lucas, and me into a private, heavily shielded room at the back of the honeycomb network.

The air here was cool, the bioluminescent mosses casting a soft, blue twilight across the basalt walls. The fun was officially over. It was time to talk business. I leaned against the stone wall, looking at the Queen.

"Alright. The bread is gone. Now, tell me... why exactly does G-42 need saving?"