Caspelinat-VIII
For years, this planet had been locked in an endless war. A rebellion had overthrown the republic, leaving no sanctuary in its wake.
Battle scars marred every inch of the land—craters like open wounds, the last clean springs poisoned by chemical spills.
In the last 300 system hours, Caspelinat-VIII had finally received galactic humanitarian aid. The Family, the Corporation, and other factions had begun deploying personnel to this small world.
The reason? A unique resource found only here:
[Mimetic Liquid-Crystal Alloy]—or simply "Liquid Crystal."
This ultra-malleable fluid metal was a coveted commodity across the cosmos. When refined to purity levels exceeding 100%, it could forge [Sage's Bullets]—rounds capable of slaying any being short of an Emanator.
Legends spoke of mortals wielding these golden bullets to kill gods. Where injustice reigned, guns rose in defiance.
When burned, Liquid Crystal emitted sacred golden flames—"equalizing all beneath holy fire." Its value had skyrocketed over Amber Eras, now becoming priceless.
True high-purity crystal had vanished from markets. Even the Corporation hoarded only trace reserves.
And yet—here, on Caspelinat, massive veins had been discovered.
Three cataclysmic explosions followed, erasing a quarter of the planet's surface.
The parliament was slaughtered. Civilians fled. Safety became a myth.
Now, the rebels—backed by the largest crystal deposit—bargained with galactic powers. If they could sell their stockpile, Caspelinat-VIII would rise as a jewel of the stars.
Amid this chaos, with factions colliding and no clear outcome in sight—
Anming and Robin arrived.
From their ship, they gazed down at the crimson-stained world.
"Before Liquid Crystal, Caspelinat was just a low-tier civilization," Robin murmured, heart heavy. Was this the cost of joining the cosmos?
The ocean from star maps years ago had evaporated into desert, boiled away by crystal detonations.
This planet was dying tenfold—right before her eyes.
"Greed. Desire. These are humanity's curses—and its nature," Anming said, squeezing her hand. "Promise me you won't overreach."
He met her eyes, each word deliberate:
"Not everyone deserves salvation."
His Eden had no room for the irredeemable.
Torment bred suffering. Suffering deepened torment.
Life and death churned endlessly here.
Robin pressed her lips together. "I understand."
Only facing war revealed human frailty. Now, she saw death itself spiraling in Caspelinat's skies.
Their ship landed in a Family-secured zone. The moment Anming stepped out, the stench of gunpowder assaulted him.
Ruins stretched to the horizon. Beyond, faint fires pulsed—as if the ground itself trembled endlessly.
"Master. Miss Robin."
A Family attendant offered a situation map. "The rebels are breaching the parliament's last defenses. Once they fall, a new era begins."
The Family never interfered. They simply backed the winning side.
"Tacit approval."
They condoned this suffering as "necessary sacrifice."
The Corporation was blunter. They cared only for contracts, not victors. They could conquer this world—but why bother? Liquid Crystal was the true prize.
Anming skimmed the report. "The broadcast system?"
"Ready. Miss Robin's voice will reach all of Caspelinat."
"Good."
He turned to Robin. She stared at the wasteland, teal eyes brimming with sorrow.
Her azure hair cascaded like a living lake. "Anming… do you think I'm naive?"
"That's your kindness."
He ruffled her hair. This tenderness—cultivated under his and Sunday's protection—was precious.
Robin embodied every virtue: kindness, sincerity, courage, grace. Her wings remained untainted.
Those hopeful eyes shouldn't cloud with doubt.
"I want to save something. Even just a tiny light."
This was why she sang. To abandon that would betray her childhood self.
"Do what you believe is right."
"I'll always be behind you."
Anming trusted her vision—a future as radiant as his Eden.
Robin stared, realizing: He had never doubted her. His support was unwavering.
[Everything Robin does has meaning.]
This was his creed.
"Let's go. To see this world."
"Mhm."
She stood patiently as Anming fitted her with the Family's cutting-edge armor—able to withstand sustained gunfire.
Overkill? Maybe. But he'd spare her even a scratch.
"Anming… what about your gear?"
She blinked as he fussed over her, neglecting himself.
He smiled. "Don't worry about me, little bird."