"~Invert.~"
At Cosmo's suggestion, the two departed the Nebula's base and landed in the white forest for some privacy.
Yet the moment they touched down, Cosmo froze, two figures were already waiting for them.
"You insufferable douchebag. You really left these two standing out here this whole time?"
"Do not malign my personality so blatantly," Lucien replied. "They didn't mind in the slightest."
"That's not for you to decide."
"My lord is correct," One of them interjected. A maid, with short black hair swaying as she bowed. "We would have waited for days if necessary."
The young officer beside her, brown hair parted neatly at the center, wearing a uniform of the Nithya Branch with a two-lined insignia, didn't fully share her enthusiasm.
He nodded, but reluctantly, and with a tension Cosmo couldn't ignore.
He looked anxious, distressed even, though not about anything immediate.
"And who's the iffy-looking kid?"
The officer straightened at once.
"Good day to you, Sir. Private Collins Caesar of the Nithya branch."
"Hm? Collins Caesar…" Cosmo murmured. "The name rings a bell, but I can't put a finger on why."
He turned to Lucien.
"Does he have anything to do with why you're here? And why every notable officer I've run into lately is acting so fishy?"
"It seems you're sharper than I've ever given you credit for. I assumed you cared too little about other people's affairs to notice."
"Yeah, sure, whatever." Cosmo dismissed the remark before it could derail the conversation. "I don't take offense to your opinions. You don't know enough about me for them to matter."
"Apparently so. Even after confirming the report myself, I still struggled to believe you defeated a spire, much less became the first to ever do so." Lucien commented. "Even now, I can't imagine a scenario where you won without a fluke or fortunate circumstance."
Cosmo sucked his teeth and looked away.
"Call it whatever you want. It doesn't change the fact that it happened. And don't pretend I did it alone. I had more help than you realize."
"Are you implying my evaluation of those recruits was mistaken? Then do you agree the academic ranking system requires immediate re-evaluation? If so, I suppose I owe them an apology."
"Don't bother. They wouldn't care." Cosmo said firmly. "Let's just say I lucked out with your picks and leave it at that."
Lucien rubbed his chin, clearly amused by Cosmo's phrasing at every turn.
"Now stop dancing around the point and tell me what's going on."
Lucien nodded to Collins, who stepped forward.
"As the last known person to have seen the suspects before the incident, I believe you have the right to know the details." He added.
Cosmo's brows tightened as Collins began.
He reported everything with as much clarity as he could muster.
How Alicia Damion and a squad of officers for the Nithya branch had responded to an SOS from Dravark.
How Dravark had been left in ruins.
What remained of the boundary's population.
The descent of the one those criminals called their avatar.
What Alicia had been forced to do to ensure his escape and return, and the results thus far.
And with every sentence, Collins' voice grew more fragile.
His head lowered, and his composure cracked.
"...and before I fled, he sent his greeting to someone who matched your description, sir…"
"Alright."
"What?"
"It's alright. You can stop. I think I get the gist."
Cosmo cut him off with an unreadable expression, then turned to Lucien.
"Did you think I was naive enough to react rashly? I can't imagine another reason you waited to tell me this until you were present."
"It was more that I expected a tantrum and wanted to witness it myself. I'd say it wasn't meant to mock you, but that would make me a liar, wouldn't it?"
"Well, I'll have to disappoint you. I'm not that worried about Ally." Cosmo declared. "She can handle herself. And if this is about the attackers, who I can now confirm for you are Scar, I don't have the luxury to deal with them right now. Something else takes priority. I'm not so emotional that I'd abandon everything for a fruitless chase. Hunting those deviants is always pointless."
Lucien's interest sharpened at the mention of Cosmo's priority, but he knew better than to ask, so he had to let it go.
"How is Nithya taking this?" Cosmo asked. He knew the Captain wasn't the type to remain idle, especially with two officers missing and the culprits possibly still near the scene.
Even the earlier disappearances had never been something she ignored.
"I wouldn't know…" Lucien shrugged lightly. "...She was gone before I received the news."
"I see. Still, it's a strange coincidence. I had my sights set on Dravark once this whole mess blew over. Sad to say that won't be necessary anymore."
"Is that so? And why Dravark of all places? I assumed you were hovering around locations tied to the Apostles."
"Ugh. So you were tracking me. I should've known." Cosmo grimaced. "Your information network gets creepier by the day. Speaking of which, I'm sure you knew about Dravark's supposedly secret inter-colonial project. Why didn't you intervene?"
"There was no point involving the 56th in such a fruitless affair," Lucien said flatly.
"Knowing it was bound to fail is exactly why you should've gotten involved." Cosmo countered. "If Dravark had actually executed that project, those people on that craft would've obviously died. That alone should've been reason enough. And maybe this is hindsight, but this recent disaster could've been prevented, or at least minimized."
"You don't seem to understand that every event we enter must benefit our grander motive. Otherwise, it threatens everything we've built."
"I'm aware. That motive is–"
"To unite every boundary in the system. You've been so desperate to keep the Nebula alive that you've adopted its expired values as your foremost line of reason."
"There's no contradiction between those goals. In either case, the lives of every individual are never negligible."
"If Dravark was so desperate to hide that ship from the 56th that they turned to the CBC, then interfering would've risked the fragile illusion of trust we barely established. Maintaining connections with every inhabited boundary takes priority over anything else."
"Next time, say out loud what you just called 'anything else'. I'd rather you not substitute the subject matter to satiate whatever conscience you have left."
"Cosmo, even if we interfered, how would you respond to the argument that Veil robbed a boundary of its independence and its chance to progress?"
"That way of thinking is exactly why–"
"Hold on!"
Both Captains unintentionally snapped their glares toward the officer who had interrupted them.
The malice projected made Collins tremble, curling slightly in fear, yet he didn't retreat.
"I apologize for speaking out of turn, but even though I wasn't taught the project's details after leaving for Earth, I know my father. He would never spearhead something so likely to fail, especially if it risked the crew's lives." Collins said firmly. "He valued safety, and he despised wasting lives. I'm sure the project had a real chance of success."
"Not at all."
Cosmo turned to him, speaking more calmly than he had at any point in the conversation.
"Dravark thrived in isolation, but that very goal guaranteed its failure," he continued. "Their research and cooperation improved, yes, but the understanding they built it on was far too limited."
He pointed toward the empty sky.
"Maybe the vessel could've traveled billions of light-years. Maybe it was reinforced enough to survive the journey. Maybe the crew could've been sustained. Regardless, it all would've been undone in an instant."
He finished with a snap of his fingers.
"No…"
"Collins Caesar… as a Private, what do you think makes the foils so important?"
Collins blinked, then answered.
"They separate boundaries and act as borders. They're also why humans can't leave their home world without portals."
"Correct, but only partially," Cosmo replied. "The foils isolate each boundary's laws from all others, while preventing the Conmundia from collapsing. The world we stand on isn't a void, it's an incomprehensibly massive body. And any mass that exists in space must still possess one thing proportional to its size."
Collins' eyes widened.
It should have been obvious. But anyone who only considered the laws of the Conmundia and ignored the physics they assumed applied only to the stars would miscalculate one thing.
"Gravity," he whispered.
It finally clicked.
They had never accounted for the shift.
For the possibility that their logic would fail the moment they left the safety they took for granted.
Or rather, the safety they knew.
The resistance the vessel would face upon leaving the Conmundia would be octillions, nonillions, perhaps even octodecillions of times greater than Dravark had planned for.
"I'm not calling your father a fool. And I'm not the type to mock the dead, so I won't fault Dravark. But this information is easily accessible on the CBC's open web. That's how it goes for many isolated boundaries."
Collins understood, solemnly.
Cosmo had tried to soften the blow, but the truth remained.
His world's progress had been disproven by what others considered common sense.
And the realization weighed heavily on him.
In his eyes, Dravark had thrived and died, accomplishing nothing.