After Luna and Walton made contact, another seven months elapsed.
During this time, they constantly deliberated on how to depart, engaging in countless discussions.
One was a Civilization leader; the other, a high-ranking official within a Civilization.
Their efficiency in this regard was undeniably swift.
Each conversation yielded valuable insights and ideas.
As the number of dialogues grew, these nascent ideas were compiled, eventually allowing them to formulate what they believed to be the optimal escape plan.
After seven months, it was finalized.
"To escape this dimension, it is certainly impossible for us to accomplish it independently. We must rely on this seven-dimensional Civilization."
"They are the only ones who know the method of egress."
"And what we must do is manipulate their judgment—cause them to make an error, and that error must, crucially, benefit us."
"Honestly, doesn't this entire scheme sound like something out of Arabian Nights?"
Walton reviewed the consolidated blueprint.
It was impressive on paper. Individually, each segment seemed plausible, but assembled together, it transformed into a near-impossible mission.
It required meticulous, delicate maneuvering.
In reality, they still hadn't fully grasped the actual implementation phase. They lacked understanding of this seven-dimensional Civilization and the mindset of its inhabitants. This reality meant any plan formulated now was likely to become a farce.
Perhaps they would perish merely attempting the first step.
The silver lining was that only the two of them knew this intricate strategy, sparing them ridicule from any external party.
"Do we possess any alternative options at this current juncture?"
"This plan is already as realistic as we can manage."
"How does the enemy make errors? How do we compel the enemy into mistakes that serve us? In truth, none of that needs detailed planning right now. We only need to focus on survival."
"As long as we survive, the enemy will invariably falter eventually."
"Actually, as long as the two of us collaborate, ensuring our survival will be effortless."
During these seven months, Luna had nurtured an incredibly audacious concept in her mind.
She was uncertain of its feasibility.
But she was absolutely determined to test it. Before proceeding, however, she deemed it imperative to reveal the majority of her history to Walton.
"How?"
Walton remained skeptical, sensing Luna harbored numerous hidden agendas; one should never underestimate the capacity of human ingenuity.
Luna stated solemnly to Walton: "If this current predicament hadn't materialized, I would never entertain such a decision during the standard political maneuvering phase of any Civilization."
"In fact, I shouldn't even be discussing these matters now."
"But I want you to know this: human Civilization has never harbored a desire for enmity."
"If you have examined the recorded history of human Civilization, you would know that we readily accept the integration of different species, and we accommodate the autonomy of star nations. Therefore, we are completely open to cooperation with any Civilization."
"We feel the exact same way regarding your Civilization."
Walton merely offered a cold sneer at Luna's proclamation.
Anyone could utter such platitudes. True Civilization strategy is never swayed by mere sentiment. Between Civilizations, only the outcomes of life or death are genuinely possible.
"Actually, the plan itself is quite straightforward. I exist within seven dimensions, and you currently reside in three."
"They, at the very least, cannot locate you right now, so every action required to lure them must be executed by me."
"My continued existence is impossible. If I possessed the capability to single-handedly contend with their entire Civilization, or even a fraction of it, then I ought not to be called a person."
"I am certainly going to perish. In fact, I could attempt to repeat the process, constantly fragmenting myself into smaller and smaller particles, enduring repeated rebirths."
"But if their Civilization truly commits to searching for me, I will have absolutely nowhere to hide. Eventually, I will still be extinguished."
"In that event, any plan we devise becomes meaningless, because this strategy will certainly demand prolonged trial and error; immediate, one-time success is impossible."
"Therefore, I require you to utilize your cognitive abilities to construct a new version of myself."
Creation through thought.
This truly was a stroke of genius.
"But as you stated, in this plan, you are guaranteed to die. You cannot descend from seven dimensions to three."
Walton identified the most critical flaw in the logic.
Luna calmly responded: "What consequence does death hold?"
"As long as my demise proves valuable, I can embrace death at any moment. You need not concern yourself with that aspect."
Walton intended to voice further objections.
Yet, he felt a strange lump form in his throat.
In truth, he hadn't anticipated Luna's attitude toward her own mortality would be so utterly nonchalant.
Haru had witnessed it previously and imparted certain details to him. The very reason he desired Luna's elimination back on Kamelin was precisely because he perceived this Luna as genuinely terrifying. Only by killing her could the Flyer Civilization secure a favorable future.
However, Walton scoffed internally at this narrow assessment. No overarching historical current is ever dictated by a single entity; Haru's judgment was simply flawed.
Nevertheless, Walton now grasped a truly terrifying aspect of Luna: if a being harbors no fear even of death, then they are, inherently, formidable.
Of course, Walton maintained his own established viewpoint. A singular individual cannot dictate the trajectory of an entire Civilization.
"In order for you to create a seven-dimensional iteration of me, I must impart a great deal of classified information to you. But you absolutely must not truly grasp the intricacies of seven dimensions, otherwise, that comprehension itself would cause you to also exist within seven-dimensional space."
This carried immense peril.
To Luna, Walton was also an adversary. Revealing her Civilization's sensitive information to an enemy—if she were an ordinary person, it wouldn't matter much, as her enemy would have no need for understanding her fully before dispatching her.
But Luna was a Civilization leader.
Therefore, her data, any fraction of it, held the potential to determine the fate of an entire Civilization.
Hence, Luna had spoken those crucial words earlier. Yet, Luna had no alternative but to proceed. This dreamscape Civilization had already encroached upon too many variables. Without firsthand intelligence, the Flyer Civilization faced imminent collapse by this encroaching force, and subsequently, the Federation would follow.
Luna could already perceive the situation as unstoppable. If no internal information was leaked outwards to comprehend the true nature of this opposing Civilization, the consequences for an uninformed entity would be devastating. All beings would naturally question: Where is this attack originating from?
No one would ever conceive that the assault emerged from pure consciousness, from dreams. What a concept—abstract and fantastically unbelievable! It was akin to someone tripping over a rug and concluding a ghost was responsible.
People who possess such foresight are almost nonexistent. Even if they do exist, they cannot influence the masses or instill a shared ideology of resistance across an entire Civilization. Instead, that individual might simply be dismissed as an eccentric, even if their ideas are entirely correct.
Furthermore, if Luna's identity were anything less than that of a Civilization's architect, even if she meticulously transmitted the information from this place, it would likely be dismissed as mere propaganda from the Flyer Civilization, or proof that she had been compromised by this seven-dimensional entity and made a flawed judgment.
It was precisely because she accounted for all these possibilities that Luna found herself with no alternative but to make this decision at this juncture.
She absolutely had to weigh the broader implications, clearly distinguishing between short-term sacrifices and long-term rewards.
"Are you prepared?"
"Allow me to relay everything about myself. You must then internalize and visualize it."
"Wait!"
Walton recognized the weight of her words.
Even for an ordinary entity, willingly revealing one's entire past to another being—especially a stranger—is rare. Often, even intimate partners, friends, or family members are denied such access.
Walton sensed ambiguity in Luna's request.
"Our connection has not yet reached that level."
Luna smiled faintly at this.
"Do you truly believe I would share everything with you?"
"Do not worry; I will be judicious. You do not need comprehensive knowledge of my entire existence. You only require the ability to manifest a version of me within your consciousness—a version of me that is incredibly powerful."
"You only need unwavering trust in me; trust that I can facilitate your departure from this place. That is sufficient."
Luna would meticulously sculpt an ideal version of herself within Walton's mind.
She would not expose every secret pertaining to herself or the entirety of human Civilization to Walton.
Yet, even revealing a fraction of this knowledge was enough to fundamentally disrupt the equilibrium between Civilizations.
"That is reassuring, then!"
Walton let out a visible sigh of relief.
In truth, it deeply desired to know everything about Luna, but that knowledge felt excessively burdensome.
If it were a being motivated by the absolute attainment of its goals, perhaps it would accept that weight.
But it was not.
Even without fully grasping human moral standards, it inherently understood the appropriate distance maintained between entities.
"Speak, then. If this is the sole viable path, I am ready."
This was, undeniably, the only viable path.
Otherwise, Luna would have felt a measure of relief if the process proved too arduous.
Because if the method failed, then everyone would perish together, rendering the protection of secrets meaningless.
Luna, momentarily linked to Walton's form, began her narrative.
"My name is Luna. I am an ancient human, originating from 220,000 years ago."
"At that time, human Civilization had yet to coalesce, nor had the Federation. The human species itself was annihilated by a gamma-ray burst emanating from a primordial black hole, and I was the sole survivor."
"I commenced a cosmic voyage. In the void of space, I began to develop and advance based on my existing knowledge. Centuries, then millennia, forged immense power within me. I encountered the first true Civilization, the Multi-eyed Civilization. I defeated it and claimed dominion over its remnants."
"Subsequently, I reached another star system. I utilized deception to mislead that Civilization, leading them to believe I hailed from an even more powerful entity. We collaborated, allowing me to grow stronger through absorption, slowly integrating their technological framework. But then, another formidable Civilization arrived; it carried the absolute will of destruction…"
Luna narrated eloquently, her voice flowing as if recalling a cherished legend.
Walton initially struggled to maintain its composure, but soon, progressively larger and more detailed visuals flooded its mind in synchronicity with the narration. At times, it felt as though it was freezing internally.
In Luna's recounting, she was not a diplomat or a mere survivor, but a terrifying force who had single-handedly engineered the entire foundation of human Civilization.
Walton even entertained the thought that Luna must be recounting an elaborate fabrication.
In fact, much of Luna's preceding emphasis seemed designed solely to prepare Walton to accept this very story.
And Walton did somewhat believe it.
Due to its earlier interactions with Luna, it had deliberately investigated the known background of human Civilization and the Galactic Federation, and indeed, there were numerous anomalous points.
At the time, it rationalized those peculiarities as mere inconsistencies stemming from cross-Civilization intelligence gathering.
If the truth were as straightforward as the discrepancies suggested, it would have to question the authenticity of all received intelligence.
However, Luna's narrative and the anomalies Walton had previously noted began to align perfectly.
This alignment became undeniable after Luna recounted her victory over the Purple Thorns Civilization and the subsequent creation of the Galactic Federation.
The encounter with the new Olive Branch Civilization.
The revelation regarding the existence of the Filament Civilization.
All these details, intricate and deeply specific.
Every passage felt like precisely calibrated images being injected directly into its consciousness.
And at the very core of every image, there was consistently one figure.
This entity was named Luna, the pivotal core upon which an entire Civilization rested.
Up until this moment, Walton hadn't felt an overwhelming emotional response, treating it mostly as listening to a grand chronicle. Especially when Luna detailed human Civilization's despair facing the Olive Branch Civilization, Walton instantly became highly alert; it logically concluded this must be fiction.
But then, Luna narrated her own desperation, her ultimate, reckless gamble.
How she defeated the Olive Branch Civilization, and how Chu handed over the authority of the Olive Branch Civilization to her—at this point, Walton was profoundly shaken.
Unless one truly experienced it firsthand, who would ever imagine such things could exist?
This defied all conventional logic.
But precisely because it defied logic, Walton became utterly immersed.
If Luna wanted to fabricate a story, she could have concocted a flawlessly smooth, more captivating narrative, complete with perfectly constructed characters.
But she chose not to.
Walton didn't initially perceive Luna as flawless, but as the narration continued, she gradually became substantive and undeniably real.
At this moment, Walton experienced another profound jolt of realization.
That realization was: How could such an seemingly ordinary being overcome so many towering obstacles?
A truly powerful individual accomplishing a great feat is enough to deeply move people, inspiring them to aspire to strength and fostering admiration for the strong.
But if it is an ordinary person performing deeds far beyond their known capabilities, doesn't that individual seem even more astonishing, perhaps even more formidable?
Only life itself truly comprehends what it lacks.
An imperfect, flawed being, supporting a story that appears utterly perfect.
How—magnificent!
Walton could only summon this term to describe Luna's portrayal of herself.
It also profoundly understood why Chu would entrust his entire Civilization to Luna.
Absurd.
But precisely because it was absurd, it was undeniably real.
"My physical form underwent modifications, granting me the ability to manifest in countless iterations. I can be omnipresent within my Civilization, and I no longer need to fear the consequences of my own demise."
"Everything I am is dedicated to the Civilization; everything I am has long since belonged to the Civilization."
"Walton, contemplate this: In the deepest recess of your consciousness, what exactly do I resemble?"
Luna concluded her narrative.
It contained numerous embellishments, attributing Ayla's actions wholly to herself.
This inevitably caused her projected image to become somewhat detached from tangible reality.
But fortunately, every claim she made was verifiably true.
No matter how fabricated the rendering of truth sounds, it remains fundamentally true. Such truths will eventually resonate with the listener.
Walton considered itself a being highly resistant to external influence.
But at this moment, it was genuinely moved, because this account was too authentic, too grounded, and it wasn't merely the tale itself.
Just as many narratives preface themselves with, "This account is adapted from a true story," which evokes different emotions in the reader later on, Luna's "marker" wasn't that introductory sentence, but the palpable emotions she conveyed during her telling.
Walton lacked the capacity to directly read subjective feelings, but beings can sense each other's emotional states, however faint; that was sufficient.
It was influenced, and before it, a new "Luna" truly began to take shape.
A fresh Luna stood before it.
Luna scrutinized the entity for a moment. It bore a striking resemblance to herself, at least externally.
But what Luna truly required was its core essence.
It needed to possess a spirit of selfless dedication, mirroring her own.
Perhaps even more extreme than her own.
Did Luna genuinely desire self-sacrifice?
No sentient being inherently desires its own termination, especially when critical objectives remain unfinished.
And in her earlier narration, she presented an idealized version of herself to Walton, which would inevitably cause the imagined iteration of herself to become even more perfect.
The low-EQ phrasing for this ideal would be "sainthood."
A true saint.
At this moment, the eyes of that imagined Luna flickered, then it turned toward Walton.
It exuded a sense of looking down upon the vastness of all ages.
A surge of profound wisdom emanated from its pupils.
Perfectly fitting the archetype, it carried the aura one expects from a novel or drama protagonist—scheming and brilliantly astute.
Luna found this representation excessively formulaic.
Because such a perfectly flawless person does not exist in reality. Often, she too could propose many ideal courses of action, but these suggestions were never a sudden, flawless burst of intuition; rather, they were the culmination of intense deliberation, integration, and ultimately, a meticulously formulated plan.
This process often required an unimaginable amount of time, calculable in centuries of effective work.
This was completely unlike the state of a typical protagonist.
Any protagonist in any story can render flawless decisions in a very short span, and those decisions remain utterly without fault.
At this moment, this imagined Luna radiated precisely that feeling.
Any problem would be effortlessly resolved in its presence.
"Walton, I already comprehend your reservations."
"For the entirety of the three-dimensional space, and for the everlasting survival of my Federation, I must establish contact with that seven-dimensional Civilization, regardless of the immediate cost or benefit."
"However, I can clearly sense now that I remain anchored in three dimensions; I cannot access seven dimensions."
The imagined Luna addressed Walton.
Walton couldn't resolve this either. It directly transferred the challenge to Luna.
"I lack the faculty for cross-dimensional sensory perception, nor can I attain knowledge of it. Before I proceed to visualize it, you should offer me some basic insight into dimensional perception."
Luna did not immediately provide Walton with the information; she naturally held her own judgment on the timing.
"Wait!"
Walton understood the implication immediately.
"This cannot be conjured purely by thought; it requires genuine personal experience."
"You cannot construct something here that you do not know, but I possess a method to resolve this dilemma."
"It is actually quite straightforward. I merely need to guide it to the seventh dimension and bring it back. You acknowledge the factual certainty that it can reach the seventh dimension, so you will then possess a certain probability of manifesting a version of me capable of reaching the seventh dimension."
This concept defied conventional logic.
Yet, Luna's statement certainly carried its own internal reasoning.
Walton, true to its Archon status, quickly grasped the core idea.
"You hypothesize that the entire dreamscape functions as a singular entity. If it is a unified whole, then it must also participate in the creation of artificial constructs."
"If it has logged a version of myself (Luna) that can access the seventh dimension, and I subsequently imagine it again, it is highly likely to utilize that prior Luna template to generate it?"
Walton had never formulated such a conjecture before.
Now, with Luna articulating this possibility, it instantly recognized immense latent potential.
"Otherwise, how could this work? If the dreamscape needed to be constructed from the most primitive elements repeatedly, then a dream world fundamentally could not have been generated in the first place."
"That sheer workload would be impossibly massive; that seventh-dimensional Civilization absolutely could not construct a colossal war machine within the dream world."
This was akin to recreating an entire advanced Civilization.
And, furthermore, recreating it starting from the fundamental particle stage.
The time required for such a feat would be simply astronomical.
From this deduction, Luna formulated this very possibility.
Of course, she had experimented with creation earlier. She noticed that manifesting the same object a second time was significantly easier, which naturally led her to this insight.
"Truly exquisite. Is this world originally an existing realm, or one meticulously designed?"
Walton felt a deep sense of confusion.
If it were primitive and naturally occurring, it should appear inherently crude.
But if it were intricately designed, then the seventh-dimensional Civilization's control over this space was remarkably deficient. Of course, conversely, it could also imply their power was so immense that they created something beyond their complete mastery.
"Why must it be one or the other? The dreamscape has always possessed a latent existence; it is merely an extension of consciousness."
"The true might of this seven-dimensional Civilization lies in their ability to make creations born in dreams actively influence physical reality."
"Very well, the strategy must commence."
"I need to travel to the seventh dimension with it, and you must observe its transformation upon entering the seventh dimension."
Having declared this, Luna already exited Walton's host body.
The Metacellular automatically began to proliferate.
This was a world of pure consciousness; Luna had complete dominion over the Metacellular.
She reformed herself anew, even manifesting a clothed version of herself.
She looked toward the imagined Luna construct, their gazes meeting.
"Tell me, how do I enter the seventh dimension?"
The imagined Luna finally possessed an air of haughty superiority, even when confronting the real Luna.
This was precisely the personality Walton had envisioned, and it was Luna's deliberate intent.
"It is very simple. Accept my memories. I will transfer Metacellular to you."
This Luna construct was, after all, only imagined by Walton. It could not possibly grasp Luna's true, complete self.
Luna had no intention of gifting it everything; it only needed to comprehend a fraction relating to the seventh dimension.
Once in the seventh dimension, its sole directive would be to search, and to search ceaselessly.
Luna divided a portion of the Metacellular and bestowed it upon the construct.
Upon receiving the Metacellular, this imagined Luna's form instantly shifted—or perhaps it wasn't a physical change, but a profound shift in perceptual awareness.
Although human eyes can only perceive two dimensions, processing input to form three dimensions of reality.
But this does not imply that touch, smell, and other senses are also constrained to two dimensions. One's own body, even with additions, could not lack tactile feedback. Therefore, after entering the seventh dimension, one could clearly sense the variances in the surroundings, even if the visual input remained obscured.
This subtle transformation was present, though easily missed unless one observed closely.
At this very moment, Luna detected an emotion appearing in the distance; it was approaching their location.
The imagined Luna also observed it; this was a feature Luna had previously recounted to Walton.
"The adversary is approaching!"
Both spoke almost simultaneously.
Luna declared to Walton: "The lesson concludes here. Soon, we will both perish. Your assignment is to persevere, continuously fabricating new iterations of me. Perhaps at the ten-thousandth, or maybe the hundred millionth, billionth, or ten billionth iteration of myself, that chance will be found. Or perhaps that opportunity will never materialize."
"Good luck to you next time. If you manage to escape this place, you might encounter another version of me."
Luna prepared to turn and depart.
At this crucial moment, Walton suddenly inquired: "Everything you have told me until now—was it all truthful?"
It still harbored deep skepticism.
Luna did not look back, instead flying off in a single direction.
But in her place, she left behind a Flyer Civilization glyph, instantly formed from mist, which she had conjured.
"Of course!"