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With Bert’s help, I was temporarily settled in a small town, where the primary residents were white German Shepherds.

The crossbreed dog specifically warned me not to mention Richter’s identity as a gray wolf.

Looking at the white German Shepherds around me, I could roughly guess why the gray wolf had to wear color-changing contact lenses.

However, this did make me a little curious about what his eyes originally looked like.

When I wasn’t lying on the bed staring blankly at the ceiling out of emptiness, I spent all my energy working on my virus—the one that would serve as the key to unshackle everyone’s collars.

I often worked until I was completely exhausted and would fall asleep directly on the desk terminal. Because whenever I had free time, my mind would start dwelling on things that would keep me tossing and turning through the night.

One time, when Bert came to visit, he tactfully suggested that I needed a bit more sunlight, though he didn’t directly point out that I looked like a walking corpse.

So, in an attempt to find something else to do, I started long-distance running around the outskirts of the town. Pushing my body to its limit was indeed an effective way to sleep. A brain so worn out that it turned blank finally gave me a more regular sleep cycle.

Perhaps, deep down, I had a faint hope that if I ran far enough, I could escape certain things.

But, on second thought, isn’t everyone running from something?

Maybe that’s why we always look toward the goal ahead, rather than at what’s left behind.

One night, Bert and the gray wolf showed up in the room where I was temporarily staying, along with a German Shepherd, some sort of antelope, and... a dragon.

Seeing the herbivore already surprised me enough, but a dragon?

As they explained that they were members of the Council and intended to invite me to the world’s other side, my attention kept drifting to the strange robes they were wearing. Bert clearly wasn’t very comfortable, scratching at certain spots now and then, while the others didn’t seem to notice any issues, leaving me with just an impression of avant-garde fashion—except for the gray wolf—who was still wearing the same black, high-collared suit from that day, expressionless, watching me. He hadn’t said a word since entering the room.

“So... is the world’s current state basically shaped by the will of the Council?” I asked after the dragon finally finished the explanation, trying to clarify a few things.

“Exactly,” his dark scales shimmered with various hues as he shifted positions. “The shadow government determines the world’s course.”

“Then...” I finally voiced my question, regardless of how ungrateful it might make me seem. “Where were you when we were enslaved and ruthlessly killed?”

Except for Bert, none of them showed even a hint of emotion. The yellow dog averted his gaze, making me feel a bit guilty, but I felt it was my duty to ask on behalf of everyone.

“The Empire’s drone systems are all preset to constantly generate new errors, forcing the pedigrees to continue relying on the foxes responsible for preserving the mathematical heritage.” The dragon answered, seemingly unaware of any issue. “And those with enough capability will find their way via the Railroad.”

“Why use this method...?” I couldn’t comprehend the logic behind it. If the Council was as powerful as they claimed, then they clearly had no desire to free the oppressed, which was why things were the way they were.

“The final reckoning is approaching, and we can’t take any risks that might drastically alter society, which would jeopardize the predictability of the plan.” To my surprise, the only one who disagreed with the dragon’s response was the antelope, who rolled her eyes.

“Well,” I had heard enough. “I’m afraid I have to decline.”

The dragon looked astonished, but I didn’t feel any obligation to justify myself, so I just continued staring at him, holding firm in my stance. After all, everything that needed to be said had been said.

“This is a one-in-a-million, incredibly rare opportunity!” the German Shepherd spoke up. “Especially for someone like you, an Epsilon level. Do you know how lucky you are to be recognized by the Council?”

“I could never become part of an organization that condones this kind of oppression.” I felt a little sorry for Bert, but I had to make my position clear.

“Then so be it.” The dragon folded his arms and glanced at the antelope. She sighed and walked over to me.

“I know this is frustrating, but the final reckoning is too important; all our fates hinge on it. We can’t afford any mistakes.” The antelope spoke in a soothing tone. “Think about the things you could do after completing the training—you’ll be able to change the world!”

I gently shook my head, unconvinced by the current state of the world.

“I didn’t know you were a utilitarian,” the dragon scoffed. “Did you get assigned to the wrong faction?”

“I tried.” The antelope glared at the dragon and then turned to Bert. “Now I need to wrap things up.”

The yellow dog nodded, still not looking at me. The antelope seemed to receive some signal, stretching out her hand toward me, as if intending to touch my head with a few fingers.

“That won’t be necessary,” the gray wolf’s deep voice interrupted. “The fox is Epsilon level and is still bound by the Treaty.”

The antelope paused and glanced at the gray wolf. The dragon shifted through a few different postures before finally sitting down on a table by the wall, the metal surface bending under his weight. The German Shepherd tilted his head, scratching his chin, while Bert turned to face me, raising one eyebrow.

“How should I report this to the Council...?” The antelope stepped back, her tone hesitant.

“Tell them I said so.” The gray wolf’s tone and posture hadn’t changed at all, but it was enough to unsettle the others.

“You all heard him,” the dragon huffed, clearly displeased. “This is no longer our concern.”

He stood up and left the room, with the others following suit. Bert approached me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Take care,” he said, and I gratefully nodded in response.

I figured, for someone who would eventually forget everything you did, there wasn’t much else that needed to be said.

Before leaving, Bert whispered something to the gray wolf, who then nodded slightly.

And just like that, the room was left with only me and the gray wolf. He remained in his arms-crossed stance, leaning against the wall. I had no idea what to say or what to do next, so I had no choice but to endure the awkward silence.

I could only guess that the gray wolf had just prevented my brain from being messed with. If the antelope’s “wrapping up” was anything like what the golden retriever had done before, it would’ve been a terrible experience for me. Should I be thanking him for that?

“So...” he spoke first, still not changing his posture or tone. “What do you plan to do next?”

“I...” I didn’t know. The series of events just now had shaken me so much that I was uncertain how to continue viewing this world, or whether any of my decisions or actions had the slightest meaning.

If we were all merely puppets, bound by strings, following a script written by some unseen will, then what was the purpose of it all?

But one thing was certain—I wasn’t going to waste this precious gift.

So, hopefully for the last time, I scratched the hairless skin on my neck and resolutely spoke the thoughts in my mind.

“I plan to travel through the stars, experiencing things I never imagined.”

“…For every landing ceremony, the Admiral always gives me a ride.” I removed the collar chip from the decoder I borrowed from Luther and placed it back into the hidden compartment of my terminal. “Abel’s body had long been reduced to bones, but that golden retriever even went out of his way to have the remains pieced back together, and they’re still hanging there.”

I was about to slide the decoder across the table, but Luther said he didn’t need so many of them, letting me keep it. Gratefully, I accepted.

“Well, that’s how I met the Admiral and eventually boarded the Empire’s Heart.” I leaned back in my chair, concluding the story.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Perhaps the pain of losing someone precious resonated between us, allowing us to understand each other’s feelings in the present. So, I hoped that sharing my knowledge of the Admiral would be a small token of gratitude to this mysterious gray wolf.

I suddenly realized that I probably shouldn’t keep calling him Admiral; Arthur is the acting Admiral now.

“By the way, since you’re going to be fleet commander one day,” I said in a joking tone, trying to lighten the mood. “I should let you know that I’ve accepted the Navy Academy’s invitation.” I pulled out the acceptance letter and placed the terminal on the table for Luther to see. “I figured this way, we can keep an eye on each other.”

I need more training. No matter how many people consider me a genius, the gap between me and completing that key remains insurmountable. For the sake of our long-cherished wish, I will not hesitate any longer.

“Oh,” Luther chuckled. “Then please take care of me!”

The mutt’s teeth stood out starkly against his black fur, and the upward curve of his lips seemed a little less heavy. I decided to give him more time to digest the long story he had just heard, so I excused myself and left the Admiral’s quarters.

I believed that eventually, Luther would once again find peace within himself and realize that they had never truly gone far.

I glanced at the lead-plated observation window, and the reflection looking back at me smiled. I could always see Abel in myself. I think it’s because the marks left by our shared journey constantly declare on my body the proof of existence.

No one was left behind, and we’re still walking side by side, continuing onward to the unknown.

Together.

As I walked down the hallway, where there were occasionally others passing by, I realized that I was ready. So, with unusually light steps, I began singing that song, the version that belonged only to me, in a voice only I could hear.

“…Before I embarked on the journey, I was already surrounded.

What bound me was not shackles or chains, nor even the collar that choked every breath of mine.

It was fear.

Fear of forgetting your face, fear of forgetting what drove me.

But each time I finally found the courage to take that seemingly insignificant step on the thousand-mile trek, it was the deepest reminder that I wasn’t alone.

The innate yearning in my heart could never be erased.

Thus, I could hesitate no longer and continued forward, toward that banner fluttering in the wind.

I knew deep down that after enduring the bitter journey and finally reaching the far shore, you would be waiting for me beneath that towering oak tree.

Then we would talk about all the sights along the way that led me here, to a place where the grass is greener and the sky is bluer.

And then, we would continue our journey together, freeing everyone from their collars.”

Standing in front of the transparent structure of the shuttle pod, I watched the world shrink rapidly below, then disappear into the thick clouds, leaving only a haze of misty droplets in my view.

The metal shielding was lowered at this point, protecting us from cosmic radiation.

Being in space for the first time made me a little nervous, yet a little excited as well.

The outside world, interstellar travel—these things I had never imagined before—I was about to experience and see them with my own eyes.

I wondered, what would the future be like?

It was a shame the view from the pod was now blocked by the metal shields. Otherwise, I would’ve loved to know how it felt to gaze down at my home planet from this height.

Just a little more patience. On the starship, I’ll be able to truly see the stars.

In the transparent polymer in front of me, my reflection stared back with olive-colored eyes, excited as if looking toward the future, anticipating all the unknowns.

It reminded me of another fox.

So, I grasped the two chips in the chest pocket of my shirt, recalling their familiar texture.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you around before.” From the reflection in the observation window, I saw a figure approaching. “First time on a space elevator?”

I turned around and saw a Labrador with golden retriever traits. Perhaps because of Bert, his appearance gave me an inexplicable sense of warmth.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Interesting experience.”

“No one ever forgets their first time.” He smiled, extending his right hand. “I’m Ian. You?”

Looking at the friendly smile of the yellow dog, I made a decision as naturally as could be.

“Nice to meet you, Ian.” I shook his hand and introduced myself. “I’m Abel.”

--Book one FIN