196: choose

Excruciating pain.

This was the only sensation Gareth felt the moment his consciousness returned.

The agony didn't stem from any specific wound; rather, every cell in his body was in pain, and every nerve felt as if it were on fire.

The backlash from overdrawing his life force to unleash the 'God-Slaying Slash' was the bitter price a mortal had to pay for attempting to touch the domain of the gods.

He tried to move his fingers, but found his body as heavy as lead. His eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, yet through sheer tenacity, he forced them open just a crack.

A soft, white halo of light met his eyes.

As his vision slowly focused, he realized he was submerged in a transparent cylinder filled with a pale blue liquid. The fluid possessed a strange buoyancy, cradling his broken body, while a cool sensation seeped through his pores, soothing the searing pain that had threatened to tear him apart.

"Awake?"

A familiar voice reached him through the thick reinforced glass, carrying a flat tone that was expected, yet tinged with an imperceptible trace of concern.

Gareth struggled to turn his eyes.

Outside the nutrient tank, that petite, silver-white figure stood silently.

Ilya von Klein—his teacher, and one of the catalysts who had pushed this world toward the abyss of destruction. She still wore that oversized white lab coat, hands in her pockets, her crimson eyes gazing at him calmly through the glass.

With the sound of churning bubbles and dropping fluid levels, the nutrient tank's life support system began to drain automatically. A mechanical arm reached in, gently unplugging the countless tubes connected to his body.

"Cough, cough..."

Gareth coughed violently, spitting out the residual fluid from his lungs. As the glass cover slid open, he leaned weakly against the tank wall, his voice as raspy as two rough stones grinding together.

"I'm... still alive?"

"I'd love to call it a medical miracle, but in truth, the medical equipment on the Wanderer treats mere fatal wounds as child's play." Ilya handed him a towel and a cup of warm nutrients. "Your bodily functions nearly collapsed three days ago—multiple organ failure, comminuted fractures throughout your skeleton. If not for the medical pod on the Wanderer, you'd be a corpse by now."

"Three days?"

Gareth's hand jerked, spilling some of the nutrient fluid.

"You mean... I've been unconscious for three days?"

"Seventy-four hours, to be precise." Ilya nodded. She raised her hand and swiped the air, causing a holographic screen to unfold before Gareth.

The screen displayed a real-time holographic map of Mana Star.

The color representing the Human Federation had already saturated the entire Eastern Hemisphere.

"While you were unconscious, the Second Interstellar Fleet did not stop its advance." Ilya's voice held no emotion; she was stating objective facts. "Karl is an impatient fellow. His ground legions have conducted a carpet-style advance across both the northern and southern continents of the Eastern Hemisphere."

"All major cities have been occupied, and all military fortresses have been dismantled. Though scattered resistance forces remain in the mountains and forests, under an all-weather, zero-blind-spot drone patrol network, their annihilation is only a matter of time."

Watching Gareth's face turn increasingly ashen, Ilya added flatly, "On a macro level, the war is over. The strength of the nations in the Western Hemisphere is even less than yours. Taking the entire planet will be settled within the week."

"It's over..."

The cup slipped from Gareth's hand, hitting the floor with a sharp clatter.

He closed his eyes in pain, tears mixing with the wet nutrient residue on his face as they fell.

He had given everything. He had rallied the strength of the entire continent, not hesitating to burn his own life to challenge that invincible iron giant.

And the result?

A mere three days.

Everything he had protected, everything he had fought for, was like a sandcastle on the beach, effortlessly leveled by the rising tide.

That profound sense of powerlessness and defeat was more unbearable than the physical pain.

"I failed, Teacher." Gareth lowered his head, his voice choking. "I couldn't protect my civilization, I couldn't protect my people... I am an utter failure."

A deathly silence fell over the laboratory.

Ilya watched the despondent man before her in silence.

In her memory, Gareth was the warrior who dared to draw his sword even against a dragon, the dull student who struggled to understand complex physical theories he couldn't grasp.

Whether in the history of Earth or the history described in the Faleim database, cases of backward civilizations like the Mana people being destroyed or conquered were countless.

She had always been indifferent to such things.

But today, looking at this man, her heart—which should have been as cold and calm as a machine—twitched inexplicably.

"Lift your head, Gareth."

Ilya's voice suddenly softened. Though it still carried her characteristic haughtiness, it held a trace of warmth she had never shown before.

"You are not a failure."

Gareth looked up blankly.

Ilya walked up to him. Even though she only reached his chest, her aura at this moment felt different.

"According to my calculations, the shield strength of Trege's mecha was equivalent to that of a small corvette. Yet you, a carbon-based organism using only a body reinforced by a tiny bit of psionic energy and a particle sword, shattered it."

"In that instant, your energy output exceeded your body's theoretical limit by 400%, creating a biological miracle."

Ilya reached out and somewhat awkwardly patted Gareth's shoulder. This was likely the first time in her life she had tried to comfort someone.

"You fought for your beliefs until the very last moment. You did everything you could do—even surpassed everything you were capable of."

"That is enough."

"The gap between civilizations cannot be bridged by one person's courage alone. Your failure was a historical inevitability, but that does not diminish your glory."

Gareth looked at Ilya. This teacher who always mocked his stupidity and looked down on him from on high now had a remarkably soft red glow in her eyes.

He felt a sting in his nose as the cold despair in his heart seemed to melt slightly under a flicker of warmth.

"Thank you... Teacher."

Ilya withdrew her hand and turned away somewhat unnaturally, as if trying to hide her emotions.

"Enough, the sentimental segment is over." Her voice returned to its usual coldness. "Now, we need to discuss your future."

"Future?" Gareth gave a bitter laugh. "As the leader of a defeated nation and the head of the resistance, doesn't public execution or life imprisonment await me? What future is there to speak of?"

"That was the original plan." Ilya turned back, arms crossed. "Karl, that war-mongering lunatic, indeed intended to execute you publicly to intimidate the natives who are still resisting."

"But I gave him a piece of my mind."

Ilya spoke nonchalantly, but Gareth could imagine the frustration that arrogant fleet commander must have felt when facing the Chief Scientist.

"I told him you are an important experimental specimen with irreplaceable scientific value. Killing the goose that lays the golden eggs is a foolish act. Thus, he agreed to spare your life."

"However," Ilya's tone shifted, "while you are spared from death, you cannot escape punishment. You absolutely cannot remain on Mana Star any longer."

"As a spiritual totem, as long as you are on this planet, the resistance forces will not stop fighting, and the Federation's rule will not be secure. For the sake of the bigger picture, you must be exiled."

"Exiled..." Gareth chewed on the word. "Leaving my home, where else can I go?"

"I give you two choices."

Ilya held up two fingers.

"First, as my private assistant, follow the Wanderer and leave this place."

Her gaze flickered slightly, carrying a faint, imperceptible hope.

"As you know, next I will be exploring more distant sectors of space, searching for even older ruins, and perhaps even exploring the event horizons of black holes."

"It will be a long and lonely journey, but it will also be full of the unknown and the magnificent. You can continue to learn, continue to grow stronger. We can see sights that even the gods have never witnessed."

"If you are willing, I can apply to the Federation for a Special Observer status for you. No one would be able to touch you."

This was Ilya's selfish desire.

Over the dozen or so years they had spent together, this native man—though slow-witted yet persistent, weak yet possessing incomparable courage—had unknowingly walked into her closed-off heart.

She wanted to take him away, far from these political and war-torn troubles, just like those ten years before—just them and this ship.

"And the second choice?" Gareth asked.

The light in Ilya's eyes dimmed slightly, but she answered truthfully:

"Second, go to the home planet of the Human Federation—Earth."

"The actual ruler of the Federation, Director Lei Wen of the Interstellar Affairs General Bureau, has watched your combat footage. He is very interested in you. He believes that an individual like you, who can perfectly integrate psionic energy (Battle Qi) with technological equipment, has immense reference value for the research of human individual combat systems in the future."

"If you choose to go to Earth, you will receive the best treatment, see the most prosperous sights in this star sector, and come into contact with the core of Human Civilization."

"Of course, you will also be under supervision there until you have completely integrated into human society."

Gareth fell silent.

He looked at Ilya.

The first option was so enticing. Following her meant freedom, meant escaping the pain of his fallen nation, and meant being with the only person in the world he admired while exploring the endless sea of stars.

His heart screamed wildly: Agree! Go with her!

But as his gaze swept across the screen, thinking of his homeland scorched by war and his compatriots struggling to survive in the ruins, his heart throbbed with pain.

If I just leave like this, what would I be?

A deserter? A coward who only cares about his own happiness?

Though exiled and unable to lead the resistance directly, if he went to Earth, to the so-called core of Human Civilization... Gareth thought to himself, 'Perhaps I can learn the enemy's true face, perhaps I can find a way to make them treat my people kindly, and perhaps I can participate in the Human Federation's political system to win a sliver of hope for independence or autonomy for Mana Star?'

It was a path filled with thorns and slim hopes, but it was a path of atonement.

He slowly raised his head, meeting Ilya's crimson eyes.

In those eyes, he saw a glimmer of expectation, a faint light waiting for his response.

At this moment, Gareth's heart felt like it was being cut by knives.

He knew what he would lose if he refused.

"Teacher..." Gareth's voice trembled, but he said it anyway, "I want to go to Earth."

The light in Ilya's eyes vanished instantly.

She froze for a moment, as if she hadn't processed it, or perhaps didn't want to believe it.

"Why?" she asked subconsciously, her voice carrying a hint of grievance she didn't even notice herself. "Going to Earth means being a lab rat, and following me means being a lab rat. Why not choose me?"

"Because..." Gareth didn't dare look into her eyes as he whispered, "I want to see what kind of civilization could give birth to a great sage like you, yet also create a fleet of such destruction."

"I want to go and... try to win something back for my people."

"Even if it's just something insignificant."

Ilya fell silent.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees in an instant.

Ilya suddenly felt he was both laughable and tragic, yet he possessed a persistence she could not refute.

This was him—that adorably foolish knight, that idiot who would insist on his so-called principles even if he ended up battered and bloodied.

The trace of tenderness in her eyes receded rapidly, replaced by her usual absolute scientific rationality and coldness.

Since a choice had been made, there was no room for turning back.

She was Ilya von Klein, a believer in truth; she would never lose her composure over a man's departure.

"I see."

Ilya turned around, her back to Gareth, no longer sparing him a glance.

"Since this is your decision, I respect it."

"Your body is mostly repaired. Pack your things."

"Next week, the Wanderer will return to the Solar System once."

"At that time, I will take you to see Lei Wen on the way."

With that, she stepped toward the laboratory door.

The automatic door slid open before her and closed heavily behind her.

Isolating the two of them into two different worlds.