Chapter 1034 — Bathed in Starlight

The flow of time, stagnant for one million eight hundred and seventy thousand years, was slowly disintegrating.

The wheel of history began to turn once more. Everything that had been frozen in place broke free of its bonds; the stilled seawater surged and churned again, and ever-stronger winds poured in from every direction into the vortex. The "spherical shell" that had covered this space shattered soundlessly, and falling together with the torrential rain came a low, distant roar from far-off Talrond — a roar that seemed to hold within it endless madness and chaos.

The sky collapsed as though overturned. The vast walls of cloud, the cyclones, and the countless tons of seawater caught up within them that had comprised the Eternal Storm were transformed into a terrifying tempest at sea, with thunder and lightning, rain pouring down in sheets, and dragon-roars rolling deep within the clouds. All of it was like the coming of the apocalypse — and amid that apocalyptic vista, a colossal ancient vessel rode the howling winds, continuing its slow ascent.

This was a starship that incorporated a portion of the Departure's technology — a miracle wrought by a dragon civilization of peerless might over a million years ago, expending the strength of its entire race. That miracle had come many years late, but today, at last, it departed.

"The storm is causing massive disturbance; the attitude-correction engines are automatically recalibrating the ship's tilt," Bar'yang'er said rapidly, seated before the chief mechanic's console, monitoring the data on the panel before him as he spoke. "But their effect is limited — the *Talrond* has already begun to deviate from its planned trajectory."

"As long as it leaves the ground, that's enough. Keep accelerating, keep climbing... Pay no mind to the destination or the exact course, and pay no mind to returning — liftoff is success..." Hragor said softly from the captain's seat. "Can you manage it?"

"Of course that's no problem," Bar'yang'er said after a moment's thought, nodding with confidence. "But the shaking is going to be relentless from here on. I'm afraid I can't eliminate all the vibration and drift..."

The navigator Anqian laughed. "A little shaking is nothing — it's already incredible that we can get this big fellow airborne at all. After all, this thing wasn't designed to be operated by three people."

As the aged dragon spoke, he turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the empty control hall behind him — that vast space lined with more than a dozen vacant seats, each one's projection screen flickering with a name long since vanished into history, those kin who should have set sail aboard this ship... who had fallen forever before departure.

Hragor noticed Anqian's gaze. He followed the other's eyes across the control hall, and after a moment, he broke the silence: "We'll go up and see for them."

"Of course we will," Bar'yang'er said in a low voice. "But... it's not going to be easy."

Almost the instant Bar'yang'er's words fell, a violent shudder abruptly rippled through the entire ship, shot through with countless indistinct sounds — half roars, half thunder. An indescribable psychic pressure pierced the vast distance of space, penetrating shield after shield and layer after layer of alloy, surging into the control hall like a raging tide.

Within the hall, Hragor, Anqian, and Bar'yang'er instantly felt that dreadful power, which seemed to act directly upon the soul. Their senses were flooded with countless whispered ravings; knowledge from the gods battered the defenses of their minds. In their trembling field of vision, they beheld visions — they saw the ship plunging straight toward a hellish abyss blazing with infernal fire, saw countless dark rifts blanketing the sky, saw monstrous entities vast enough to drive mortals mad vying to extend their long limbs, seeking to drag down and destroy this vessel that dared attempt to leave the planet...

The gods had caught up.

Yet in the very next second, those dreadful things abruptly vanished. Hragor and the other two returned once more to the cold yet safe world of reality, gasping for breath, until Anqian was the first to break the silence: "Omega is buying us time."

"And only for one last time," Hragor said, his face grim. "I can feel it... the god has already left Talrond. He is drawing closer to this place. Next time, we'll be facing His true body."

Bar'yang'er glanced down at the instrument readings, speaking at a rapid clip: "Our altitude isn't enough yet — we haven't broken through. Hold on tight. I'm removing all engine limiters."

Moments later, a sustained vibration reached the hall, and a still more unbearable sense of acceleration and vertigo welled up. The colossal ancient vessel had already crossed the cloud-wall boundary of the former Eternal Storm; it climbed into the blue sky and began slowly adjusting its angle, entering its subsequent course at an incline — and at almost the same instant, a mad, chaotic roar came faintly into Hragor's mind.

Beside him, Anqian had clearly heard the same "voice." He shook his head with a bitter smile. "Looks like we've made Him good and angry..."

"Of course," Hragor said, struggling against the pressure originating from the level of the soul — though the bridge between man and god had already been severed, and the power of the "gods" had been whittled by Omega below the critical threshold, that divine psychic force, now that He had recovered His own will, still left him feeling as though he might collapse into madness at any moment. He gritted his teeth. Though he could not see his own expression, he was certain it must be hideous. "After all... what we're doing is the ultimate 'defiance'..."

Anqian forced his gaze upward, toward the distant blue sky displayed on the projection screen. Amid the tide of psychic contamination that ceaselessly surged in, he slowly broke into a faint smile —

The ultimate "defiance"...

It was not violating doctrine, nor denying faith, nor even deicide — for gods born of mortal thought and operating according to rule, none of those transgressions came anywhere near the ultimate "defiance."

The ultimate defiance could only occur when mortals overcame their most primal shackles and taboos, broke free of their first cradle and swaddling clothes, and took the step into true "adulthood."

The ultimate "defiance" was to step into the starry sky.

It represented a cataclysmic transformation in the mortal races' understanding of the entire world — the moment when a child raised in the cradle truly possessed the means to leave it. It carried incomparable symbolic significance; it deserved the acclaim of the whole world — yet it exceeded what any god could endure.

Because for every god, all the "intelligence" of their birth and continued existence was founded upon this planet — even Anqian had needed many, many years to work that out.

Hragor felt his mind gradually settling. The brain that had seemed about to boil just moments before slowly returned to calm. He let out a soft breath and placed his hand over a panel to the left front of his seat.

Anqian raised his eyes to the sky outside displayed on the projection screen — the sky tilted at an angle, its edge forming the arc of a wide-angle lens. He saw sunlight streaming in from behind and to the side of the screen, gilding every cloud layer with a pale golden light, and at the edge of that golden light he could already see the curved, swelling bulk of the earth, and the faint starlight at the very zenith.

The trembling of the ship lessened somewhat. The image on the projection screen dimmed, and the magnificent, resplendent starfield emerged bit by bit from the backdrop of the sky. The whole world seemed to fall silent, with only the low hum of instruments and equipment sounding from all around.