By now, the tremors of the cathedral's collapse had at last subsided. Buried beneath the rubble, Robert lay dazed and half-conscious, his skull throbbing with pain. He scarcely registered the strange voice that had spoken to him, hearing only the dull roar of his own blood as the world spun in dizzying circles around him.
Realizing its host had not attended to its words, the voice softened to a tone of irresistible allure, as though whispering directly within his mind: "Master, can you hear me now?"
Startled, Robert blinked into the suffocating dark. Seeing nothing but emptiness, he forced his aching lips to murmur, "Who…? Who speaks to me?"
"Master, I am the Star of Yalandis—an artificial intelligence born of another cosmic plane, created to guide you toward divinity itself. I have already fused with your left hand, and from this moment, I am your most loyal servant."
Robert's mind reeled. Cosmic plane? Artificial intelligence? Evolution? These words were alien, impossibly strange.
"D*mn it! I don't understand a single thing you're saying!"
The voice sighed, tender with resignation. "Forgive me, Master. I failed to account for the limits of your knowledge. With your present understanding, you cannot yet grasp my intent. Then, will you allow me to open the Dream-Sea of Stars? It is a world of souls. There, we may commune directly—soul to soul, without obstruction."
Robert stiffened in terror. His soul? This mysterious entity meant to seize his very spirit, to drag him into some so-called Dream-Sea—was this not simply a euphemism for death? Panic seared through him; clutching desperately at the shattered goddess's marble thigh, he clawed higher, refusing to release his hold.
The voice, half-amused, half-exasperated, murmured to itself: "Ah, what a trial it is to speak with such primitive races. Master, I shall forcibly draw your soul into the Dream-Sea. Do not be afraid."
Robert's blood froze. "Please—spare me! Don't kill me! I—I may not be a saint, but I've never done unforgivable evil! Ask the townsfolk of Moonwatch—they'll tell you, their young lord may filch a chicken or tease a maid now and then, but he is, at heart, a decent man!"
He did not lie. Though spoiled and frivolous, Robert had never committed cruelty beyond repair; indeed, among the common folk, his reputation was unexpectedly fair.
Yet the so-called demon of Yalandis paid him no heed. His vision blurred; the world twisted around him. He clung tighter to the goddess's sculpted limb, clawing desperately upward. Just as his hand brushed against the carved hem of her stone garment—
—his surroundings tore away.
He floated now in a boundless sea of stars, where countless constellations shimmered in hues gentle as moonlight, endless yet strangely comforting. The void stretched beneath his feet, the cosmos itself wrapped in radiant silence.
From afar, a voice as sweet as music drew near: "Master, fear not. I am your devoted servant. Turn, and behold your Dream-Sea—and me."
From the tapestry of stars, a figure drifted forth: a maiden of seventeen or eighteen summers, her head bowed with demure grace, hands folded to her breast. Cascading locks of argent hair shimmered behind her, framing long, flawless legs that crossed with effortless elegance. Her form, ethereal and unearthly, was draped in nothing but a veil of gossamer, clinging precariously, revealing more than it concealed—an image at once sacred and perilously alluring.
Instinct stirred within Robert; his throat tightened. Could even the legendary Goddess of Yalan herself rival such beauty?
Sena's words flashed in his mind: "Worth it! To behold such a vision—worth even the loss of one's soul!"
The maiden inclined in a graceful bow. "Master, I am the core program of the Star of Yalandis, your most faithful servant."
Shaking himself violently free of temptation, Robert staggered back and demanded, "You have dragged my soul here—what is it you want of me?"
The girl only smiled. "You are too tense. During your passage into the Dream-Sea, I shared fragments of knowledge with you. You now understand words like gene, cosmic plane, evolution. Search your memory, and you will see."
Robert faltered. Had this radiant being not only stolen his soul, but altered his mind as well? Yet as he "remembered," knowledge poured into him—unfamiliar, impossible truths he now inexplicably possessed.
"In another cosmic plane," he recalled aloud, "there existed a kingdom far surpassing ours in science—the Kingdom of Yalandis. In their struggle against the divine, they seized the genetic code of the gods themselves. With it, their greatest minds labored for a century and at last created you—the Star of Yalandis, the key to molding man into god."
He stared in awe. "So… this is your origin?"
"Yes," she replied with a gentle laugh. "The king of Yalandis meant to unite with me during a grand ceremony. But in the moment of activation, my energy surpassed the limits of that universe. I broke through the planes, wandering across countless realms, until I descended into yours—and chose you as my master."
Pausing, her voice softened with apology. "Master, forgive me. I was compelled to use memory-sharing upon you, though it may strain your mortal mind. I shall henceforth refrain, and explain by words instead."
For the first time, Robert felt relief steal into his chest. Yet as his gaze lingered upon her, his heart betrayed him, racing with unbidden admiration. Her beauty was beyond imagining.
He forced his thoughts to steadiness. "Can you truly make me a god? As mighty as the Flame God, or the Ocean God?"
She shook her head slowly.
Confused, he pressed, "Is that not your promise?"
"Master, I can indeed raise you to the stature of the divine. But not to the level of those you name—the sea, the flame, even this so-called Goddess of Yalan. Their powers are paltry, crude, unworthy of the title supreme."
Her silver hair billowed as if stirred by unseen winds.
"My purpose, as the Star of Yalandis, is to endow you with strength surpassing all lesser deities. To make you not merely a god—but the perfect sovereign of gods. The King of All Divine."