"Amiya, come down. Standing out on the deck at full speed is dangerous."
Kal'tsit held the doorframe and called out.
"Yes, Dr. Kal'tsit."
Amiya obediently followed Kal'tsit back inside the landship.
Her pale little finger brushed lightly over the ten rings on her hand, and she asked out of the blue, "Dr. Kal'tsit… do you actually not want us to bring the Doctor back?"
"You sensed my emotions?" Kal'tsit's expression hardened. "Amiya, I've warned you many times. The power of the Black Crown cannot be used casually."
The Black Crown—symbol of the Sarkaz Demon King, the sole emblem of that throne, and a burden tied to the continuation of civilization itself—had once belonged to Kal'tsit's friend, Theresa.
As the previous Demon King, Theresa's understanding of the Black Crown had reached heights no one before or after could match. That was why, at the moment of her death, she had been able to pass the crown—its power—entirely to Amiya.
Thus, Terra's first non-Sarkaz Demon King was born.
But for Amiya, only fourteen years old, power she couldn't control was lethally dangerous. That was why the ten rings were needed to seal it.
Old-fashioned, perhaps—but necessary.
Like teaching a medical student advanced procedures before they've mastered sterile technique, or giving a chemistry student higher-level work before they've learned basic lab safety: you're not helping them. You're harming them.
"I'm sorry," Amiya said, her rabbit ears drooping like a child caught doing something wrong. "But I really wanted to understand why your feelings are so complicated. Didn't you used to trust the Doctor unconditionally?"
Kal'tsit's gaze softened. She rested a hand on Amiya's head and spoke slowly.
"I can't describe it to you properly with words. He gave me life. He gave me freedom. I was grateful to him. I relied on him. So when I needed help, I went to him… and I woke him.
"When he brought you back, for a time I believed he might abandon his mission… but he didn't. He hurt all of us. And yet… we still need his help."
"I understand how you feel," Amiya said, holding Kal'tsit's hand. "After all, when Miss Theresa was assassinated… I was there."
"Then why do you still trust him?" Kal'tsit couldn't hide her confusion.
As someone who had once been that person's creation, she herself now carried misgivings—so why did Amiya remain as steadfast as ever?
"Because I believe in him," Amiya said. "And Miss Theresa believed in him too.
"Back then, she was already gravely wounded. If she had wanted to destroy the Doctor, she could have done it with a flick of her finger—but she didn't.
"Miss Theresa loved the Doctor deeply. She trusted him. And I do too.
"Maybe what happened back then had reasons we don't know. Dr. Kal'tsit… let's find the Doctor. Let's recover the truth of that year. All right?"
"…All right."
Kal'tsit stared out through the porthole into the distant horizon.
Once again, she found herself thinking of that white Sarkaz friend of hers—always wearing a sorrowful expression.
To choose one's own annihilation, just to buy civilization one more chance…
Even after being betrayed, to still be willing to believe in the Doctor…
How strange.
So strange.
I was the first to know him. I should be the one who understands him best.
And yet Theresa… and Amiya… it feels as if they've both walked farther than I ever did.
…
…
Year 1095, December 12.
"Achoo!"
Far away in Lungmen, Su Yi rubbed his nose. He felt like he was catching a cold—he couldn't stop sneezing.
But ever since he'd learned he might be some kind of colossus or beast-lord, he'd become reluctant to go to the hospital.
What if his identity got exposed?
"Fine. I'll meet in person."
After leaving Rhodes Island's office, Su Yi had been obsessively searching up everything he could about "colossi" and "beast-lords."
As expected, Lungmen's intercity network didn't turn up anything useful.
All he could find were stiff, empty definition pages.
But when Su Yi broadened the scope of his search, he stumbled onto someone on a film forum who claimed to be a "colossus."
It started because a recent movie called All Those Colossus Things had hit theaters—and it was a disaster.
Countless viewers who felt their Lungmen dollars had been set on fire flooded the forum and tore into the director without mercy.
There were the classic rage posts—"Refund my money!"—and there were long essays painstakingly explaining exactly how bad the film was.
Naturally, there were also a few posts so off-target they were practically art.
For example, one thread opener ranted:
"Has the director ever been a colossus? They just film whatever and assume things!"
What colossus is out there making movies for you to watch? Go touch grass.
And yet, an account named "Terra's No. 1 Director" replied:
"I am a colossus. You say I'm 'assuming things'? You're the one assuming! Everything in the movie is adapted from my personal experiences… sigh. Audiences these days really don't know quality."
A director personally showing up to argue—whether real or not—was guaranteed to make the thread explode.
In the past, Su Yi would've dismissed it as marketing and moved on.
He'd seen enough of that sort of stunt in his previous life. Next.
But then the entire thread vanished without a trace.
And that—more than anything—hooked his curiosity.
As Jim Hacker once said: the first law of politics—only the things officially denied are worth believing.
If you don't delete it, I'll laugh and scroll past.
If you delete it… then I'm digging.
So Su Yi tracked down the director's contact information. After getting the other party's consent, the two agreed to meet today at a hotpot restaurant.
"Addicted to pepper… did that infamous forum crowd migrate to Terra too?"
Su Yi glanced up at the shop sign, muttered his complaint, and walked inside.
"Over here, over here!"
Inside, a woman with violet eyes, pointed ears, a bewitching face, white hair, and dragon horns waved hard with her right hand, calling to him.
Su Yi looked over, his brow furrowing.
Because despite the dead of winter, she was wearing nothing but hot pants and a red bandeau top—大片大片 of pale skin exposed, drawing every eye in the room.
"So you're Director Nian, yes? Pleasure, pleasure."
Su Yi greeted her warmly and offered his hand.
Given she was a filmmaker, he'd deliberately watched several of her movies before meeting.
And then he'd regretted it.
They were unbelievably bad. He'd thought the guy who made Chasing Dreams in the Adult Film Circle was already the ceiling of audacity—until he discovered someone even more fearless.
Even if this "Director Nian" wasn't a colossus, she was still… a long way from normal human society.
Exusiai had been sitting beside him last night as they watched. She endured one and a half films, then went upstairs to sleep.
In her words: if she kept watching, she felt like she was going to become a fallen angel.
Still, face-to-face, you showed respect. Director Nian it was.
It was the same everywhere: online you curse someone out, offline you call them "bro."
"What did you just call me?" Nian clasped his right hand tightly.
"D-Director Nian…? What's wrong?" Su Yi asked.
"Say it again."
"Director Nian."
"Again."
"Director Nian!"
"Ohohohohoho!"
Nian rolled her eyes in bliss.
....
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