NOVEL NEXT Chapter 69: the bitter truth
Nyxander was still lost in his swirling thoughts when the North Astro Lord's voice broke through.
"Hey, Nyxander," Astro Lord called out, raising his cup of wine towards him.
"Oh," Nyxander responded, instinctively lifting the cup of wine placed before him. Their glasses clinked together with a crisp chime that briefly pierced the ambient noise of the hall. Hildred took a hearty sip from his cup, but Nyxander merely set his glass back down, the liquid untouched.
"Is the wine bad?" Astro Lord asked, his tone laced with a curious undertone, as if probing.
Nyxander shook his head subtly. "Not at all. I just... I'm not a fan of wine." His voice was calm, yet beneath it lay a quiet restraint. In the privacy of his thoughts, he muttered, "Since I got recanted, I haven't eaten or drunk anything, not knowing how my body, as a Primordial, would react to it. My race, born without the need for food or drink, has no need for indulgences, much less to something as volatile as alcohol."
As his mind wandered, his gaze inadvertently drifted to his side, locking once again with Centric. His eyes burned with frustration, the barely-contained fury evident in his rigid posture and clenched fists.
"You don't have to worry about him," the Astro Lord said suddenly, pulling Nyxander's attention back to the table. The Astro Lord's tone was nonchalant, though his sharp eyes betrayed a deeper awareness of the tension. "He's just a bit fired up."
Before Nyxander could reply, Hung, who now stood at the center of the hall, raised his voice. "Hello, everyone. To all Astro Stations, give me your attention!"
His authoritative tone reverberated through the hall, silencing the lively chatter as heads turned toward him. The murmur of conversation dissolved into an expectant stillness.
Hung continued, his voice measured yet firm. "The three-month resource distribution will proceed as usual. However, there is a crucial matter I must address first. Many of you might have heard rumors about a sneak attack we are planning against the Dark Station to the East." He took a deliberate step forward, his presence commanding. "I am here to confirm that this is no mere rumor. It is true."
A wave of whispered conversations swept across the hall, but Hung raised a hand to quiet them. "However, before we can even consider this operation, we face a more immediate and dire threat, the Primordial Beasts Tide approaching from the South." His voice grew heavier with each word, the gravity of the situation weighing down the room. "If we do not address this, the station walls will fall, leaving us vulnerable to the very dangers we sought to keep at bay."
The murmurs began again, a mix of concern and speculation rippling through the crowd.
Hung pressed on, his tone unyielding. "You're likely wondering when this will take place. Initially, the plan was set for the end of next month. However, we've discovered that the Primordial Beast energy crystals that power our station walls will not last that long. As a result, the timeline has been moved forward. In four weeks, we launch our operation to intercept and stop the tide."
To punctuate his declaration, Hung clapped his hands sharply. A door at the far end of the hall creaked open, and four men entered, each carrying a large, ornate box. The boxes, each marked with the emblem of the four Astro Stations, were brought to the respective groups, signaling the start of the resource distribution.
At the official table, Nyxander leaned slightly toward Lumina. "Do you mean to say the station walls are mechanical constructs that require energy to function?" he asked, his tone edged with curiosity.
Before Lumina could respond, the Astro Lord's voice cut in, his tone both amused and authoritative. "It seems Lumina hasn't explained everything to you, so allow me the honor."
The unexpected offer drew startled expressions from the other Astro leaders. Centric, visibly agitated, slammed his fist on the table. "You don't have to do that, your lordship!" he shouted, his voice trembling with both anger and fear.
But the moment Centric's eyes met the Astro Lord's cold, piercing gaze froze him in place. A chill ran down Centric's spine, his defiance crumbling as beads of sweat formed on his brow. "Forgive me for my outburst," he stammered, lowering his gaze in submission.
"Now, where was I? Ah, yes." The Astro Lord turned back to Nyxander, his expression calm yet commanding. "I apologize for the interruption. Let's start with introductions. My name is Hildred, a close vessel of the God of Strength and Power, one of the heavenly War Gods."
His words were deliberate, each one carrying the weight of his status. Gesturing to the other leaders at the table, he continued, "These are Dunstan, Centric, Seraphina, and Lumina, the four Astro Leaders who hold this station together."
Pausing, Hildred's sharp gaze fixed on Nyxander. "Now, let me ask you this, what do you know of the Primordial race?"
Nyxander's expression remained neutral, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "They are split into four clans, and their infants were kidnapped and massacred by the Celestial race. That's about all I know."
The words hung in the air like a blade, their blunt truth cutting through the atmosphere. The Astro leaders shifted uncomfortably in their seats, their consciences silencing any protest they might have voiced.
"Hahaha!" Hildred's sudden laughter shattered the tension, his booming voice drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. Even the murmurs of the subordinates receiving their resources came to a halt, their eyes drawn to the scene at the official table.
"Zion, you're truly fascinating," Hildred said, his laughter subsiding into an amused grin. "You speak as though you're not a part of the Celestial race yourself."
Nyxander's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fists beneath the table. Yet he said nothing, his composure masking the storm brewing within him.
Hildred, undeterred, leaned back in his chair, his posture that of a lecturer about to impart a crucial lesson. "Yes, what you said is true, but it's also a command from those above, those who control the threads of this reality. And now," he said, his voice growing softer but no less impactful, "let me explain what you truly need to understand."
Hildred continued, his voice steady but carrying the weight of untold centuries of knowledge. "As you know, the Primordials are the strongest beings to ever exist. Their presence alone bends the very fabric of reality. To avoid detection by such overwhelming entities, we had to create a sanctuary, l, a shelter that effectively cuts us off from being sensed. Thus, the station walls and the Astro Station suits were conceived."
His gaze swept across the room, his words weaving an almost tangible sense of awe. "The station wall is an artifact of unmatched craftsmanship. Its body is forged from Umbrium, a dark metallic substance renowned for its unparalleled energy conduction across the seven heavens. Between these walls stand poles forged from the bones of the Primordial. Initially, these bones were known to absorb energy over time, but through a remarkable process, were meticulously altered, their properties reversed their natural tendency, making them repel energy instead of absorbing it."
By powering the walls with crystals harvested from the Primordial Beasts, the energy channels through the structure, creating a energy barrier that deflects external energies, effectively masking our presence."
Hildred's voice dipped, taking on a more conspiratorial tone. "Unlike the walls, the Astro suits are crafted from Primordial skins, designed with similar principles. These suits conceal us from detection when we step beyond the station walls. It's the skin of a predator turned into the armor of prey, ensuring we remain invisible to those who might seek us out."
The room seemed to grow heavier, laden with the significance of Hildred's words. It was as though he were unraveling a tapestry of secrets, each thread more unnerving than the last.
They were still deep in discussion when Hung approached the table, his presence as deliberate as a blade slicing through tension. "Astro Lord," he said, his voice light but edged with curiosity, "it's rare to see you speak this much."
Hildred glanced at him, the corner of his lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. "Hum, that's true," he replied simply.
Hung's gaze shifted toward Nyxander, curiosity flickering in his eyes. As though confirming a silent thought, he gently placed a hand on Nyxander's shoulder, imbuing it with light energy in an attempt to scan the depths of his being. But the moment the energy touched Nyxander, it recoiled, rejected by an unknown force so absolute it sent a shiver through Hung's core. His hand lingered for a second too long, his face betraying his shock.
Hildred's sharp eyes caught the moment of hesitation. "Why don't you take a seat, Hung," he said gently, his voice slicing through Hung's daze like a soft command.
Hung blinked, snapping back to the present. "Oh, my apologies." He stepped back, pulling a chair from the other side of the table. He lowered himself into the seat between the Astro Lord and Nyxander, his movements uncharacteristically slow as though weighed down by thoughts he dared not voice.
Once seated, Hung turned toward Nyxander, his gaze steady yet tinged with something undefinable. "Nyxander," he began, his voice calm yet carrying a note of expectancy, "why don't you become the fifth Astro leader?"
Though Hung's words carried a gravity that silenced the surrounding conversation, Nyxander's expression remained unreadable. He had already anticipated such a proposition. Still, the reaction of the other leaders was immediate and visceral, their widened eyes betraying a mix of disbelief, shock, and, for some, like Centric, barely restrained anger.
Centric's fists clenched beneath the table, his knuckles whitening with the force of his frustration. The mere suggestion seemed to strike him as an affront, yet he dared not speak out, his defiance quelled by the tension hanging over the table.
Around them, the hall continued to bustle with preparations for the challenges ahead, the undercurrent of excitement laced with whispers of uncertainty. Yet, at the table surrounded by the leaders, the air felt thick, each unspoken word adding to the descending tension.
Nyxander's gaze flicked toward Hung for a moment, then back to the others. Though his face remained calm, his mind raced, assessing the implications of such a proposition. To everyone else, the suggestion was a bombshell, but to Nyxander, it was yet another step in a game far greater than any present could comprehend.