Northern looked away for a mont, processing.
’That does make sense...’
He’d heard fragnts before—myths, scattered references in old texts. But nothing like this.
’I’ve never heard of such a comprehensive story of the constellations before. Not even close.’
He returned his gaze to Anike, studying her weathered features.
"How though..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "How do you know these things? Not much is known about the constellations, aside from the fact that the months of the year are nad after them and that they have a passive conscience. I even used to think there were only twelve constellations until I ca by so more..."
His voice trailed off.
"And now you tell millions of them existed and lived like normal beings at a ti."
Anike smiled, the expression deepening the lines around her eyes.
"Towards the ending of the war with Death’s Abyss was the beginning of the human era. Humanity started to bloom in fact from early on, as the twelve constellations created these asures." She gestured vaguely upward. "They were witnesses of the war. In fact, it is said that so humans were so affected by the war that they evolved to a more superior form of humanity—albeit more attuned to negativity than normal humans. They’re known as—"
"The Mourgens..." Northern completed, the pieces clicking into place.
She turned to him and nodded, looking pleased.
"Correct. They were the carriers of this knowledge. Their culture, this war—it ford the backbone of it all." Her expression grew distant. "Although they separated and scattered into different worlds as ti went on, and as more ti passed, these truths beca less reliable. Less true."
She withdrew from the bridge railing and looked at Northern directly.
"There’s sothing I’d like to show you."
Northern raised his brows, suspicious despite himself.
"That’ll be?"
She smiled, enigmatic.
"Sowhere... that managed to survive since before the first civilization."
Northern’s eyes widened slightly.
’Sowhere that existed since—’
He wanted to question how that was even possible, but then again, he was standing in one of the nine wonders of the world. If there was a place where such a thing could exist, it had to be here. ’Of all the places in the world, this would be it.’
Northern’s gaze narrowed as another thought occurred to him.
’I might have to go on a long tour one day... see what else is hidden in the other eight.’
He followed Anike nonetheless, curiosity winning out. As she reached the end of the bridge, she didn’t head toward the next do. Instead, her golden wings peeled off her skin—the sight still unsettling no matter how many tis he saw it—and she offered her hands to assist Northern.
But he rely levitated, rising smoothly into the air while looking at her with a blank expression.
’She forgot I can fly.’
The old lady seed to realize her mistake, hiding her embarrassnt behind a practiced smile. She took off into the clouds, flying forward over the reverse current of the massive river. Northern followed closely behind. He tried to look at the waters below, but Anike warned him not to.
He ignored her warning anyway. ’Just a glance.’
The view of the river from above was hypnotizing—almost provoking hallucinations, in fact. Colors that shouldn’t exist swirled in patterns that hurt to track. He felt the only reason he survived it was his strong ntal fortitude.
Else he would have lost balance and simply plunged into the river the mont he glanced down at it.
They continued to fly. And fly. So much that Northern started getting confused.
’Just how far are we going...’
Finally, after delving into a huge sea of clouds, they plunged out the other side—
And the first thing Northern saw was a tyrannically massive chain.
There was no other way to describe it. The sheer width alone suggested it had been built by hands as large as Thunderhead Dreadnought. Maybe larger. The chain stretched over the fog of clouds, plunging upward and disappearing into another sea of white above.
Northern exhaled slowly, trying to process the scale.
"What. Is. That?"
Anike looked overwheld herself, and she’d clearly seen this before.
"Every ti I see it, it reminds how truly mighty the mourgens were. The first humans..." She shook her head slowly. "I don’t think we can ever completely comprehend them."
Northern squinted, his civil engineering self kicking in automatically.
’Size, material composition, structural integrity...’
He was already analyzing the chain with his eyes, but it was going to take a while. The thing defied easy categorization.
Anike glanced at him and suddenly added a warning.
"By the way... don’t be deceived. They aren’t tallic."
Northern gave her a dark look, the kind that clearly said ’you can’t be serious.’
"What?"
Anike turned back to the massive chain, unbothered by his skepticism.
"They’re wooden. We can fly closer and take a look if you want."
"Please."
’I need to see this up close.’
Anike’s golden dragonfly wings flapped, catching the air, and Northern followed. He descended carefully, landing gently on the chain. He stood on one side of the link, before the hollow space leading to the other side. Where he stood alone was wide enough for five people to walk side by side.
The thing didn’t even shift under his weight. Not even a tremor.
Now that he stood on it, he could feel the wood beneath his feet—smooth, impossibly dense, nothing like any timber he’d encountered. The hollows of the links were thick with green vegetation, vines and moss carpeting the interior surfaces.
Anike shifted, her tone turning cautious.
"There may be monsters hundreds of years old in there. There’s a possibility that rifts could have ford amongst the hollows." She looked ahead toward where the chain disappeared into the distance.
Northern followed her gaze, scanning the length of it.
"Does it end?"
"Most certainly it does. You can see it too, if you want."
Northern answered imdiately.
"Please."
They flew again, shooting across the chains at great speed. The massive links blurred beneath them as they rocketed forward, entering and plunging out of thick mists of clouds. The world beca nothing but white fog and the occasional glimpse of impossibly wide wooden chain.
Finally, they broke through into open air—
And Northern found himself staring at what looked like a floating oasis.
A single massive tree dominated the space, twisting skyward with gnarled branches but no leaves. Bark like ancient stone. A lake of crystal-clear water stread down the edges of the floating landmass, cascading into the clouds surrounding it like an endless waterfall feeding the sky itself.
The wooden chains weren’t just connected to the tree—they were carved into it. The tree stood at the edge of the oasis, in a way backing the overflowing lake, and the chains seed to grow from its trunk like massive roots.
Northern and Anike landed on the green ground just beside the tree, their feet sinking slightly into soft moss. Northern imdiately moved closer, studying where wood beca chain.
’How is this even possible...’
He observed the way the chain was carved into the tree, like an outgrowth of the wood itself. Seamless. Perfect. But it couldn’t possibly have been natural.
This was built with a level of architecture that he had never seen in his life. The craftsmanship was beyond anything humanity could produce now. ’Not even the Aetherborne could manage this.’
And looking at it right now, coupled with the fact that he was considering building his own nation, Northern felt a familiar hunger stirring.
’I want it.’
The thought was imdiate and shaless.
If he had sothing like this—this level of construction, this mastery of materials—even the Origins wouldn’t be able to trespass what he wanted to build. The defensive possibilities alone... He would certainly make it a tough job for the gods too.
Northern’s gaze swept across the tree’s base, then stopped.
There was sothing carved there. Words, etched into the ancient bark. He crouched down, frowning slightly as he leaned closer.
The language looked familiar. Very familiar.
Anike observed him, her expression curious.
"That seems to be the language that the first humans learned from the constellations. No one really can—"
Northern frowned and began reading aloud, his voice cutting through her explanation and making her go abruptly silent.
"What follows is speculative—fragnts of truth pieced together from ruins, rifts, and the mad ravings of those who touched forbidden knowledge. No mortal knows the full truth, and perhaps the truth itself is too fragnted to be known completely."
He paused, the words settling over them like a weight.
His frown deepened as the implications clicked into place.
’This can’t be a coincidence.’
’Aoi... tell why this language is the sa as the runes you use to relay ssages to in written form?’
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