Xu Qianghua didn't move from the observatory after the two elders left.
The image of the drifting ship still lingered in his mind even though the projection was off. He could see it clearly—scarred, broken, drifting silently toward Nexera like it didn't even care about being seen anymore, as if it had long given up.
And yet, it was still coming.
It was supposed to be stronger than this. He remembered it—the fear back then, the pressure it brought.
The certainty among some sects that resistance would be pointless once the ship landed. He'd fought hard to shut those voices down.
Back then, he didn't have as much influence. But he'd been one of the first to say no.
That planet was theirs. Not a prize for some arrogant outsiders.
And now…
He wasn't sure how to feel seeing it like that.
A soft set of footsteps came from behind.
He didn't need to look. He could already tell who it was.
