Star...... Will it blink?

Victor's mind was slow. It's as if the face is submerged in water, and everything in the eyes becomes clear and ...... Subtlely distorted, but undisputed, he is standing ...... In the starry sky.

In the endless darkness of the upper and lower directions, countless rays of light flickered, each of which had witnessed the birth and death of countless universes, and now deigned to project its form into the eyes of lowly mortals. The glow vanished all the way to the end of vision, but the Midnight Lord knew it was his mind, not the limit of the starry sky.

Aether, the vastness of the ocean, subspace, or the highest heavens—these are some of the most well-known of the many names that mortals have given here, but none of them can articulate their billionth of nature. This is the hell he should not set foot in.

It should be. So said the stars. There are so many worlds in the galaxy that it's no surprise that some of them have neighbors blinking. Don't you like us?

No, it's not. He retorted. Not so with Terra.

The last of your genetic seed came from the underground city of the exiled criminal, and his memory of the sky is only the dark dome. They laughed, and Victor didn't quite understand what he could see in the quivering of the light waves, but they were clearly in a good mood.

It's dangerous to talk to beings you don't know, even if it's just as dangerous to anger them. Victor was clearly aware that he was on the edge of a cliff, that he had crossed the line of safety, and that he could only listen to gravity for now.

Nostramo ...... This is not the case with Nostramo.

Don't answer. He told himself that though it was useless, the voice sounded from his skull, and the body and the will that he was so proud of were useless. This is the first common sense in the face of subspace - no matter how wary you are, you will always be broken by the inhabitants of it, especially the greatest.

There is only eternal night under her polluted atmosphere.

But there was still a starry sky, and after nightfall, a real starry sky. Despite his involuntary self-determination, Victor's mind still had room for more, and he even thought about whether he had turned into a twisted piece of flesh in front of the astronomical mirror, and whether Fogrem could clean it up in time, so as not to become the first shadow in the life of the Seventeen Primitives.

But it doesn't seem like a good idea to give him a long-term warning about the horrors of the Void? Conrad would have loved this ending that didn't match his humble status.

Does that have anything to do with you? If it can't shine on you, what does it matter if the starry sky is true or false? The stars stared coldly, they were tired of his stubbornness.

We've always wanted to talk to you. The stars said. You are young and new to our vision, but you have great potential...... Very great, far superior to your weak peers, and your survival is honor.

It's just a lingering breath.

Find me and throw yourself into my arms. They whispered, from the outside, and also from the inside. We love you, and we want to deliver you.

Victor Stopper, that doesn't sound bad. Perhaps the stars can have eyes, just as they have watched the bloodshed and atrocities on the ground for thousands of years.

But what is that? He noticed that the morning star, still alone in the sky, its light warm and faint, out of step with the demure of his companions.

That's just temporary. The stars fluctuated unhappily. The sun has stolen him from us, and he will return, leading the people in procession as the first rising evening star.

So come to us, the sun will burn your cornea that is accustomed to long nights, and it will take away the shadow from which you are hiding. Come on...... Come on...... Just give us the first star, we are waiting for you in the light, we cannot lose him.

But......

Isn't that enough, little bats covered in bruises? As stubborn as your father, but not as greedy as he is. We like you so much that I can tell you a secret...... A secret of betrayal......

No.

Absurd...... You've lost your last chance...... The sea of stars boiled with joy and anger, for such a small thing dared to refuse their condescending gifts, because his struggles also pleased them. The outline of the star bucket twisted into a kaleidoscope of trajectories, each sharp edge glowing with poison. The Midnight Lord's vision, the lens and consciousness melted together, hot liquid sliding across his cheeks. A thousand screams, flames, and pain, but he still kept pushing his vocal cords.

"I refuse, I refuse all of you." He said, "Neither the sun nor the void will be my home. I will die, and then rot completely. ”

The back of Victor's head slammed to the floor, and his skull buzzed, and white light flashed in front of him. Then a ferocious blow to the chest made him almost vomit when he woke up.

"Name." Someone's voice came out of the screeching noise in the skull, "Name! ”

"Victor...... Victor, you're going to strangle me. He spat out a mouthful of the warm mixture, tasting the corrosive bitter and sour taste.

"Where are you?" Vogram's voice was stern, the tip of the cold knife sinking into the flesh of his neck.

"Twilight Star...... We wandered with her and fell in Colchis. ”

"Very well," said in a softened tone, "who do you worship?" ”

"My worship is empty...... But the fixed number has been watching this for a long time. ”

"Yes, just mildly polluted." A strong hand lifted Victor up. He shook his head, struggled to open his eyes, and took a moment to adjust to the blood-red vision. "Can you do it yourself next time?"

"You can't beat me." "It's going to be a bit of a hassle to clean you off the floor, and it's going to scare both of them." ”

His violet eyes narrowed, and his voice was as soft as a whisper. "They're anxious, aren't they?"

"It's hard to say if they have emotions or not, but I think so, they're impatient." Victor touched his broken cheekbone and grinned. Although he was a little strange to fear that his misery would scare one of the Primitives, he was slightly glad that the Seventeen Primordials were playing outside—perhaps scourging his newfound scorpion nest.

"Do you think this is their arrangement?" Fogrem toyed with the dagger, the swarthy blade leaping across his fingertips in a trajectory that Astarte couldn't even make out with the naked eye. The Midnight Lord subconsciously stroked the bleeding wound in his throat. "Can you change the part next time, I always feel a little unlucky to have a relationship with that one."

"At least Kiliman didn't sit on the throne like your father, and he never came down."

"He's committing suicide!" Victor argues. "Frankly, it's like their style, not every ship can jump headlong into 10,000 years ago. But...... Why bother? ”

Phoenix sighed. "When you ask the gods of destruction, 'Why bother,' remember why did they invade our world in the first place? I don't mind thinking of the recipes every morning as their arrangement. ”

He nodded. "Remember what they were holding in their hands. In our world, the only good thing is doubt. ”