Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Winds from the Void Star
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"Yes," Heinrich cut in, "I'm going to open the Phoenix's cockpit."
In that moment, Edna almost thought she'd misheard him. But when she was escorted into the massive testing ground, she realized Heinrich's intentions went beyond just opening the cockpit—
He was going to dissect Celia's body.
"You're insane..." She stared at the emperor in horror, her voice trembling slightly. "What if Gavin isn't Celia? What if this is just a trap set by the exiled forces? And you're just going to dissect his body like that... Aren't you afraid of regretting it?!"
"I can handle it." Heinrich replied coldly. "I've endured fifty years. I can handle anything now."
They stood on the suspended walkway, peering over the railing at the enormous testing ground below. The Phoenix's silver-white cockpit stood vertically in the electromagnetic field, with 2,600 cutting robots at the ready. Everyone looked up, awaiting the emperor's command.
Heinrich spoke slowly, uttering a single word: "Open."
In an instant, all the robots activated. Countless serrated blades whirred to life, slicing into the cockpit door. Sparks filled the electromagnetic field as the Phoenix's final mental lock was forcibly released. Soon, the heavy vacuum hatch locks were completely severed, and massive mechanical arms reached out to grip the latches—
With a thunderous boom, the cockpit door—sealed for half a century—slowly swung open.
Edna's pupils contracted, and she instinctively took half a step back.
But what came next shattered her even more: As the hatch crashed to the ground, a wide pilot's seat slowly rose from the darkened cockpit. Though covered in a tangled web of neural nets and wires, the faint silhouette of half a human figure could still be made out, lying supine on the seat—
"No..." Edna gasped raggedly, her voice hoarse. "No, stop—stop right now... No—!"
She clapped her hands over her eyes, but the emperor stood unmoving, his figure as steady as a rock.
Celia's body was only half intact; during the forced landing on Redsoil Star, his entire left upper body had been crushed into bloody pulp. After fifty years of vacuum sealing in the cockpit, the collapsed seat and wires had fused into one, encasing his mangled remains tightly within.
Heinrich stared fixedly at the pilot's seat, his eyes bloodshot, but his expression carved in stone—silent and icy:
"Extract DNA from the body... Verify identity."
By this point, every researcher's hands were shaking. Celia's death had been so gruesome; the entire base of the seat was crusted with bloodstains. At a glance, one could imagine the fountain of blood that had erupted back then.
But no one spoke, not even making a superfluous sound. Two researchers, hands trembling, reached pliers into the gaps in the wires and extracted a tissue sample from the body. Pale-faced, they sent it for analysis.
Moments later, the communicator in front of the emperor beeped. The lead researcher's stammering voice came through: "Y-Your Majesty, this... this is impossible. The b-body... the body is Alpha..."
Edna abruptly squeezed her eyes shut.
"You think I'd be surprised?" Heinrich said in a low voice, hoarse and emotionless. "No, I knew all along. During the Battle of Venus Fortress, the Phoenix was melted by over 50%. Even if Celia were a machine, survival would have been impossible—not to mention appearing unscathed at a press conference just a month later... Yes, I had my suspicions back then, but I never dared to dwell on them."
"I've been lying to myself all this time. Maybe the cockpit's constant-temperature program could withstand temperatures over ten thousand degrees. Maybe Celia really had some unknown way to escape... But looking back, it was all just self-deception. The moment I claimed victory, Celia was truly dead."
Heinrich paused, then murmured, "I killed him twice."
Tears welled in Edna's eyes, blurring her vision. "Then why... are you still..."
"I had no choice. Once you're on this path, there's no turning back. Some things don't happen just because you wish them away. Celia was the Alliance's commander-in-chief. In that situation, if he didn't sacrifice himself, who would? And I was on the opposite side—could I really doom the Empire's millions of soldiers just to save him?"
Heinrich shook his head. After a long silence, he murmured, "There are things more important than feelings. For me, and for Celia too."
Edna stared at him in shock and fury, but he simply activated the communicator with one hand and said indifferently, "Notify the biochemical team—extract the body. Prepare for craniotomy!"
No one knew the torment the emperor endured in that moment—not even Edna could comprehend it.
Just as no one understood why the emperor wanted to perform a craniotomy on Marshal Celia's body. Many researchers thought Heinrich had lost his mind, or that the exiled forces had driven him to psychological distortion. When the order came down, the biochemical team hesitated for a full fifteen minutes, all waiting for him to rescind it.
But they waited in vain for any change of heart. In the end, they had no choice but to proceed, steeling themselves to cut through the tangled neural nets and wires on the seat. The entire team, hands shaking, lifted out Celia's shattered remains.
The surgery was conducted in full isolation. Just three minutes later, the communicator crackled again with a researcher's voice, laced with shock: "Your Majesty, we've found something in the marshal's brain! It's... it's a signal transmitter!"
The testing ground erupted in stunned silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Heinrich stood motionless for several seconds, then abruptly turned and strode toward the operating room downstairs.
Edna reached out to stop him, but her hand fell limply halfway.
The operating room was equally tense. Heinrich burst through the door, his pace so swift the lead researcher nearly couldn't keep up.
"We found this in the marshal's brain. Analysis shows it's some kind of transmitter..." The lead surgeon, still shaken, presented a tray. But Heinrich's gaze first locked onto the operating table, shifting to the bloodstained silver button on the tray only seconds later.
It was a typical bio-electromagnetic resonator—Heinrich recognized it immediately.
The Alliance's superior technology in bio-electromagnetics was fully embodied in this tiny button: Even now, the Empire couldn't refract primate thought waves with a device this small. Human brain capacity was orders of magnitude larger; the Royal Academy would need a table-sized resonator just to barely refract 12% of human thoughts.
The Alliance's tech in this field was generations ahead.
Heinrich's breathing quickened. He reached out trembling several times before finally steeling himself to delicately pick up the button.
"There should be a receiver paired with this transmitter, but we can't track its location," the lead researcher said awkwardly. "Unfortunately, the Empire lags behind the Alliance in this area. We can't tell if it's been used. Can we disassemble it to take a look?"
"No, I know..." Heinrich started to say he knew it had been used—how else could Celia have come back to life? But before the words left his mouth, a whirlwind erupted from the button, sweeping through the entire operating room in an instant!
"This is—" The researchers exchanged bewildered glances.
Heinrich staggered back half a step, his eyes widening in shock!
It was wind.
Wind from the Void Star!
Countless rustling voices carried the force of life—vibrant and fervent, like dancing sprites. They whistled past Heinrich's ears in a flash:
"Who are you?" He heard the voices converge into one, asking curiously. "You're not the human marshal. Who are you?"
"..."
The emperor opened his mouth, but no words came. Powerful thought waves crashed against his brain like raging storm surges. Countless memory fragments played automatically, a dazzling, chaotic barrage—millions of frames flashing before his eyes at once.
"Why isn't the human marshal here to see us?" the voice asked again. "Why is it different from what was agreed?"
"Who are you?"
"Where have you hidden the marshal?"
Heinrich couldn't speak. In his daze, he realized these were the Void Star people!
Back then, Celia had stood on the Void Star listening to the wind, telling him he was hearing the Void Star people speak. So that's what he meant!
"Oh—did the marshal tell you?" The Void Star people instantly seized the image from his mind and laughed. "You can hear us now too, huh? That's rare."
"Yeah, normally only the marshal could..."
"Where's the marshal? Why hasn't he come to see us?"
The countless Void Star people chattered noisily, swirling around the emperor, whipping up vortexes of wind. Heinrich's vision blackened in waves; he couldn't even hear the researchers' panicked screams. In his haze, he focused his thoughts with all his might—【Why do you want to see Celia?】
"Because he left us his most precious legacy," the Void Star people's voices rang out in unison. "Now, as agreed, we're returning everything to him."
【...What is this most precious legacy?】
"What do you think? What could it be?"
Heinrich's mind buzzed like it housed an engine. The Void Star people laughed gleefully, clearly delighted by their prank. "You don't know? You're so dumb!"
"You really don't know? And you call yourself the marshal's student!"
"It's his memories, duh! How could you not know?"
Heinrich's pupils contracted. In a flash of insight, he seemed to understand everything—yet nothing at all. Then his vision blurred, and all the clamor vanished—
The chaotic operating room was gone, replaced by a gentle night breeze.
Heinrich looked around in stunned awe. Stars twinkled overhead; beneath his feet stretched a grassy field, distant chirps of insects long and short. Young Celia lay under a laurel tree, eyes closed as if asleep.
And another boy in black robes was crossing the lawn, approaching through the rustling grass.
The Celia under the tree didn't stir or open his eyes, seeming truly asleep. But in that moment, Heinrich realized he couldn't possibly be sleeping... He finally understood: What he was seeing was Celia's memory.
The secret, unknown memory that Celia had entrusted to the Void Star people for safekeeping over five hundred years.