Planet Kairon - (1)
Planet Kairon. Satellites and anti-gravity platforms zipped busily through the skies alongside orbital elevators, while countless artificial satellites drifted about. Even from the space near the planet, the security was visibly tight. Spaceships were fully scanned, probed with strange psychic powers, and IDs double- and triple-checked... This was a place every avatar had to pass through at least once as part of their mandatory training. Here, avatars learned to grasp the powers granted by their constellations and found roles suited to their aptitudes.
Whether to seek a new job that made use of their avatar abilities or to return to their old life was left to personal choice. But it was safe to say no avatar who had agreed to a contract with a constellation ever chose the latter.
NTD-1683 Star System. Ratan Planet. Trainee Yuna.
Welcome to Planet Kairon.
You have been assigned to Sector C-4. Board the shuttle heading to your assigned sector.
The message that greeted Yuna upon her arrival on the planet. With avatars pouring in from across the galaxy, they probably divided them into sectors like this. She boarded the shuttle and headed to her assigned area, where a massive city awaited her.
It was like a 21st-century university campus fused with a military boot camp and a fantasy academy. Definitely an SF world, she thought. The scale of this avatar training facility was enormous. And this was just one sector on the planet—Sector C-4.
"Greetings. From today, you trainees will learn how to wield your powers here and gain a comprehensive understanding of constellations and avatars..."
A middle-aged man gathered the avatars who had disembarked from the shuttle and launched into a speech. His back was hunched, and he looked unkempt, having clearly neglected his appearance—but he too was an avatar of some constellation.
"Wait, isn't that guy from the Central Avatar Research Institute?"
"He looks familiar from the propaganda broadcasts..."
From the murmurs of avatars who recognized him, he seemed to be quite the notable researcher. She'd heard that some avatars received knowledge directly from their contracted constellations. Maybe he was one of those.
But as if he'd overheard the whispering avatars, the man suddenly bellowed.
"You there!!!! I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me!!! This is a training facility, and I'm your superior!!!"
The kindly professor vibe from moments ago vanished, replaced by a scowling, shouting figure. He's got quite the temper, she noted.
From that point on, the daily routine of Yuna—my contracted avatar—proceeded simply. Mornings began with education on avatars and constellations, starting from the basics most people already knew. Explanations of malicious constellations, avatars driven mad by mishandling their powers, and more.
"This massive snake monster in the photo was once a promising avatar. He abused the authority from his constellation lord and overexerted himself, ending up with permanent physical mutations."
The instructor on the podium displayed a hologram of a grotesquely deformed snake monster—its entire body covered in eyeballs, blood oozing from them in a pitiful sight.
"Ugh..."
Was Yuna recalling the time her own body had taken on cosmic hues? She shuddered in revulsion.
The constellation Whispering Star Cluster comforts their first avatar.
With a pang of bitterness, I sent the message, and only then did she calm down. If she ever turned into something horrific, I'd take responsibility and fix it somehow.
Noticing the trainees' horrified expressions, the instructor smirked.
"This one's actually one of the better cases. We granted his request for a painless euthanasia."
"......"
"The truly horrific cases involve getting kidnapped by space monsters on the battlefield, having your brain eaten by parasitic lifeforms, or being swallowed whole by planet-eating organisms and slowly digested."
A heavy silence fell.
"Becoming an avatar chosen by a constellation lord doesn't mean it's all over. Did you imagine dramatically taking down criminals with superpowers in front of crowds? Reality is pretty brutal, so steel yourselves."
"......"
"Remember this: Far more avatars lose their qualifications through death on the battlefield than through contract termination by their constellation lords."
Everyone gulped at the instructor's cynical words. The morning's basic education ended in a chilled atmosphere. After replenishing nutrients at the communal cafeteria, physical training awaited the avatars.
Hundreds gathered on the vast training field according to the schedule. A hulking instructor, built like a muscle monster, approached with arms crossed.
"Among you, some will surely have authorities from your constellation lords unsuited for combat! Some might aim for science or arts fields instead!"
"......"
"But even if you don't want a combat role, mortals who receive a constellation lord's authority gradually grow mentally and physically stronger. Remember—you avatars have a duty to help civilians if monsters appear in the city!"
Thus began the intense physical conditioning. Muscle meltdown from excessive strength training or cartilage wear? No problem. Those who collapsed during runs or passed out during push-ups were fine after receiving strange white drugs.
"Physical training isn't just about building muscle—it's to enhance mental fortitude! Even mages or shamans need basic mental strength and...!"
One might think it was just brute-force endurance work, but the training was tailored to species differences, with real-time body scans ensuring proper rest. It was impressive.
After training until evening, finishing dinner, and returning to the dorm, Yuna gazed into the air and murmured cautiously.
"Constellation Lord... are you there?"
The constellation Whispering Star Cluster affirms.
Her face was full of questions, and I could guess why. No matter how superhuman avatars became, they were fundamentally mortals. No one could wield immortal-granted powers flawlessly from the start. That's why Planet Kairon existed—to train them, gradually expanding their vessels and developing their abilities.
In other words, the freshly arrived avatars were all greenhorns. But even among them, Yuna stood out. She showed no strain during the beginner physical training. The instructors, puzzled, paused her regimen to measure her physical durability and power limits first.
"I... I know it might seem irreverent, but Constellation Lord, are you really like Silent Starlight... a galaxy..."
Yuna spoke haltingly, more cautious than ever. She must have suspected I could be a true galaxy-ruling god. With avatars contracted to planet spirits struggling all around, it was natural she'd wonder why she was unscathed.
Even in this SF world where immortals were scientifically classified, galaxy spirits were special. Unlike lesser immortals, galaxy-ruling gods were objects of awe to all.
The constellation Whispering Star Cluster conveys that such things are unimportant.
"...Yes?"
I didn't want to be treated like a monotheistic god. Was it the lingering humanity in my heart, or the detached feeling? A simple constellation-avatar relationship was enough.
The constellation Whispering Star Cluster states they are the first avatar's constellation.
"Ah... Yes. Right. Of course. I'm your avatar, Constellation Lord..."
A small smile played on Yuna's lips as she stared blankly at my message.
I shifted my attention from the other dimension, terminating the AI information feed. She would train on that planet for a while anyway, so no need to keep watching.
Upon opening my eyes, the usual vista greeted me: countless galaxies and star clusters like specks of dust, filling the universe with dark matter. Surrendering fully to the sensation of sensing the entire cosmos once more, indescribable emotions welled up.
Those specks, tinier than dust by my standards. The thought of "playing constellation" with them brought shame and triviality—like an adult human amusing themselves with passing ants, awkward and faintly embarrassing. Self-loathing over my actions.
How did my kin in that dimension endure this feeling? But simultaneously, the bitterness hit: the fact that I could even think this way meant I was no longer human.
The sense that my mind had changed due to my body and surroundings brought discomfort and irritation. The human sensibilities still lingering signaled anxiety and nameless fear.
Memories of being a pathetic mortal confined to one planet clashed with the mentality of an Outer God who had witnessed the universe's creation and destruction, leaving me in turmoil.
Rrrumble— I wanted to roar cathartically like in my human days. But fearing everything might shatter, I forcibly suppressed the emotion.
When power scales differ so vastly, good and evil lose meaning. Yet that very distinction was the bulwark protecting my mind. One step beyond, and there'd be no turning back.
I wanted to fully preserve my humanity. Could my games in that dimension help?
Mighty One, has something happened? If there is any way this humble one can assist...
As my emotions surged again, Naiserria—the galaxy's goddess—sensed the anomaly and spoke cautiously. The faint fear in her voice made my position all too real.
[Naiserria. What do you think of mortals?]
Could your advice help?