Lord of the Truth

"Helen?!" Robin was caught somewhere between surprise and disbelief.

Hedrick began to clarify, his voice calm but weighty.

"...Helen's personal power is the only thing that has allowed her to wage war against the Ghasan Empire for thousands of years without being completely annihilated. Their emperor might only be a mid-level nexus state, true—but don't underestimate him. He's inherited and accumulated an absurd number of planetary-grade weapons. These were passed down through countless reigns over millions of years.

Helen alone has been enough to push them back time and time again. Whenever their forces get too close to breaching strategic zones, she steps in and shuts it all down. Her presence on the frontlines is the only reason the war hasn't ended on the same day it began."

Then Hedrick raised an eyebrow toward Robin, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Now imagine that kind of power standing at the head of your defenses during the most critical battle of your life. Imagine her not just holding the line—but reinforcing it. I could even provide her with planetary weapons to amplify her might even further."

Robin's expression darkened, thoughtful but skeptical.

"...I thought you didn't command her, that she takes her decisions for her own mind," he said slowly, his voice laced with caution. "What exactly would motivate her to come defend me, of all people?"

He paused.

"And secondly—doesn't she already have her own battlefield to deal with? How can she possibly abandon Mid Sector 100 and come help me in Mid Sector 99?"

"It wouldn't be a command," Hedrick said, waving a hand as if brushing away the concern. "It would be a mutually beneficial proposal. A deal. Her empire is crumbling, Robin. Ravaged by endless wars, poverty, and fractured internal politics.

If I offered her funding—serious funding—or troop support in exchange for helping me help you, there's a high chance she'd accept. Maybe not immediately. But we still have 600 years ahead of us, eventually she'd see the benefit."

He leaned back slightly, more casual now.

"And even if, worst case scenario, all her worlds get conquered while she's gone? I'll compensate her directly. A billion, maybe two. That's more than enough to start over somewhere better, somewhere richer. She wouldn't see it as charity—not if she earns it in battle."

"...."

Robin's gaze grew distant for a moment, and he found himself recalling the image of Helen unleashing her Second Nature Annihilation Strike. That raw, destructive force… and the look in her eyes when she did it, despite knowing her life was at risk.

"...I don't think she's as easy to sway as you make her sound," he finally muttered.

"That's my problem to solve," Hedrick replied simply, his voice unwavering. Then he added, "So... what's your verdict? What do you think of the offer I've laid before you?"

Robin didn't answer right away. He fell silent, eyes wandering upward toward the sky, studying the crimson clouds drifting overhead. For several minutes, he said nothing. Then finally, he gave a slow, contemplative nod.

"...My objective was never to fight to the death for the seed," he said quietly, "but to protect it—for as long as I could. The offer you've made... is it truly an offer to fight alongside me, giving your all? Or is it just another offer to push back the chaos temporarily—to hold the line for a while?"

Hedrick let out a long, drawn-out sigh, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"...I think you already know the answer to that question."

Robin nodded again, slower this time, eyes still fixed on the burning skies.

"I figured as much."

He remembered—Hedrick had been the one to say it: that all the great Millennium Empires would mobilize their full military might. That sovereigns and guardians would appear without a doubt. That even the Stellar Academies—with all their untouchable influence, military strength, and galactic wealth—might descend from their thrones to claim the seed for themselves.

Yes, Hedrick was strong. His sister was terrifyingly powerful. Their followers were elite, battle-hardened, and deeply loyal. But the question still echoed in Robin's mind, louder than ever:

Was that enough?

Could even all of them, together, stand against everything the universe was about to throw at him?

If he said yes... if he agreed to Hedrick's terms... then a legendary war would unfold—a battle of cosmic proportions unlike anything seen in recent history. But even then...

Would it matter? Would it change the ending?

"A chance to fight is better than sitting quietly, waiting for the slaughter to come," Hedrick finally spoke again, voice low and calm, but edged with cold steel.

"You're proud, Robin. Confident. I know that. I can see that. I'm sure your forces are respectable—maybe even impressive by some standards.

But let me ask you this... wasn't your predecessor also powerful?"

Hedrick leaned forward, his voice growing darker.

"He was the only one in recorded history who managed to force his planet to ascend ahead of schedule. He succeeded where none ever had.

And what did it earn him?"

He paused.

"He watched it all burn. Watched his legacy collapse before his very eyes—and then he fled."

Hedrick shook his head slowly.

"So tell me, what makes you think your ending will be any different from his?"

He leaned back slightly, one hand resting against his knee.

"What were you even planning to do, honestly? Were you hoping to forge some grand alliance with a few optimistic factions? Throw a celebratory banquet on Nihari after ascension and hope no one stabs you during dessert?

Were you expecting all those powers to wish you well because you might become a Great Truth Chosen someday? To stand by your side out of faith and kindness? To fight for you, just because they like your vibe?"

Hedrick scoffed, the shadow of a grin playing on his lips.

"Lord Robin... this universe doesn't operate on kindness. It never did."

"Or maybe you were planning to ally with a few of the Millennium Empires, offer them a handful of merged laws, and then ask them to come defend your galaxy seed in exchange?" Hedrick's voice was edged with visible irritation. There was no mistaking the scorn in his expression—this was insanity in his eyes, a reckless gamble bordering on suicidal, and a one-way ticket to oblivion.

"...."

Robin said nothing, but inwardly, a faint shadow crossed his mind.

Those thoughts... those very strategies... they weren't foreign to him.

Once upon a time, they had roamed his thoughts like ghosts in the dark, offering easy solutions.

But he had banished them—crushed them under the weight of logic, and more importantly, instinct.

Reputation? A fantasy.

Potential? A fleeting illusion.

Technology? Nothing but a mirage.

All of them were trivial.

Utterly meaningless when placed beside the true prize—a Galactic Seed.

The only reason Robin could remotely believe Hedrick was serious about forming a partnership, was because Hedrick himself possessed a seed. One he needed to protect just as badly.

But the cynicism in Robin's heart whispered a darker truth:

If the seed of Virillion were to fall—if it were to be destroyed—he wouldn't be surprised if Hedrick was the first one to launch a full-scale assault on Nihari the moment it ascended.

No, maybe before that.

"So?"

Hedrick interrupted his thoughts, watching him closely, clearly expecting a reply.

"...I'm afraid that if I give you the fourth-stage planetary displacement gear, I'll lose my best chance to build a grander galaxy—to expand my influence far beyond the minimum—and increase my odds of surviving the chaos that's sure to come."

Robin gave a dry, almost helpless smile.

"And then, right after I ascend, you WILL be defeated... my army would be crushed... and I'd lose everything in one swift stroke."

He looked directly at Hedrick. "Can you blame me for hesitating?"

"...Yeah," Hedrick muttered, his voice low, his brows drawing closer. "Yeah... I think I'm beginning to understand.

You're someone who struggles with hard choices. Indecisive.

And clearly... this meeting of ours isn't ending anytime soon."

Robin didn't take offense. Instead, he chuckled under his breath.

"Hesitation isn't always a weakness, Lord Hedrick.

Sometimes, it's a sign of wisdom.

Sometimes, it gives a man room to breathe—to weigh options others never even consider."

Then, narrowing his eyes slightly, Robin posed a new question:

"How long do you think you can keep fighting in Young Sector 101? I mean really fighting—not just surviving?"

"A century—at most—if things continue the way they are." Hedrick replied immediately.

"A century and a half if I follow your advice: consolidate my strength, pull all forces toward the seed, force the Shattering Meteor Empire to abandon their outer holdings, and go all-in.

Maybe two centuries, tops, if I go personally to defend the immediate orbital region myself, taking my last remaining generals and elite warbands with me."

He paused, exhaling.

"But even then, the local enemies will keep pouring in. They'll infiltrate the planets. Eat away at them from the inside out. No matter what I do—they'll rot my empire from within."

Then he smirked, clearly seeing where Robin's mind might be drifting.

"What's this? Are you imagining that I'll go to war for two whole centuries—fighting on the frontlines with my bare hands, sacrificing everything I've built in the Shattering Meteor Empire... just so you can spend those two centuries gathering more planets for your seed?

That doesn't sound very noble to me. Doesn't sound fair, either."

Robin let out a slow breath.

"No. I wasn't thinking that at all. I was thinking...

If you can't even protect your own seed... how do you plan to protect mine?"

His tone was cold. Sharp. Unapologetic.

"I was thinking... your war's already been burning for centuries. So how long do you think it'll last when it's my war instead?"

"..."

"Listen carefully, Lord Hedrick."

At this moment, Robin turned around slowly, hands folding neatly behind his back. His posture straightened, his voice grew firmer—more grounded in resolve than ever before.

"This deal between us—it will not be displacement gear in exchange for the protection of Nihari.

That's irrational. It costs me too much.

You said it yourself: the success rate of your transportation method is what—barely 50%?

So I give up the gear...

You fail to teleport in...

Then you show up late anyway, forced to help defend Nihari.

And by that point, we've likely already lost it."

He narrowed his gaze.

"This... excessive chain of failure? It doesn't sit well with me. It doesn't align with how I operate.

I'm not used to playing dice with everything I've built."

Then, for the first time, Robin turned fully to face him—expression firm, voice ice-cold:

"Our partnership is upside-down.

But the terms are changing.

The new deal is this—

you protect Nihari,

and I protect Virillion."