"Brother, stop while you still can."
Robin looked at Sunday and said with utmost seriousness, "While the impact is still limited, pulling back now will lead to a good outcome!"
"We're all here—can you really not see the situation clearly?"
She did not want to cross blades with her brother, at least while circumstances still allowed otherwise.
"Robin, you still can't understand me." Sunday shook his head and sighed as he spoke. "This world is one where the strong bully the weak, and the weak suffers endlessly. I will personally create a world where everyone is happy, where even the weak can enjoy the beauty of life."
"What's wrong with that?"
"When we were young, we once picked up a fledgling with broken wings. After we healed its injuries, there were two possible paths. Let it fly freely into the sky, or keep it at home and raise it ourselves."
"In the end, we released it—and not long after, it fell and died."
"I long for a world where life exists equally, each enjoying their own way of living. Thus, I created a dream of Order. Here, even if one loses their wings, they still possess the power to soar across the sky."
He remained unwavering in his conviction.
To create a world where everyone would be well, and to bear the weight of all life himself—if he alone remained clear-eyed, that would be enough.
Sunday grew ever more resolute, light blazing brilliantly in his eyes, as he softly chanted, "All the hardships before my eyes, all the loneliness that lies ahead."
"If it can be exchanged for immeasurable joy for all beings, then it is nothing more than a little wind and frost."
He wished to see all beings rejoice, to see all things exist in harmony.
The power of Harmony was far too gentle; using Order to delineate the world would forcibly erase all war and suffering.
Robin said solemnly, "Brother, but you have no right to choose the fate of all beings for them."
"And you have no right to stop me from choosing to save them."
Sunday's expression remained calm, utterly unshaken. "In the era when Order still existed, the star systems under THEIR protection were peaceful and tranquil, so plain only because there were no heroic legends."
"But when Order fell, heroes emerged amidst war. People cheered and applauded them, yet how many lives were lost in helplessness? Tell me—did those who died willingly chose death?"
"They did not yearn for heroic epics. They may have simply wanted to live ordinary lives."
"Across this galaxy, how many people are exploited by capital? Did they willingly choose to live like slaves? Some things were rightfully theirs, yet were taken from them."
"Little sister, your singing is far more beautiful in peace and freedom."
He knew that his sister had nearly died in war before—suffering had been right beside him.
In that moment, he deeply understood that pain was far more profound than his own death could ever be.
He did not wish for his loved ones to die, and thus did not wish for the beings of the universe to lose their loved ones either.
Robin's expression wavered, and she was almost unable to speak.
She agreed with her brother's ideals—they were nearly identical to what she herself yearned for.
But the method was wrong. A good starting point alone was meaningless.
Still, her singing truly was more beautiful in peace, and she felt the bond of kinship with her brother so deeply that she almost did not want to argue anymore.
He makes so much sense.
March 7th nodded blankly, feeling that there really was nothing wrong with what Sunday said.
This was practically more righteous than the Astral Express itself—she even felt a bit ashamed.
"Kind big brother, you have to win!"
Stelle shouted outright, practically itching to defect on the spot.
It was just too correct. Opposing war and striving for peace was right.
Bosses exploiting labor was even more wrong—she should obviously just collect her pay without working.
"Bang!"
Stelle clutched her head, eyes brimming with tears.
Himeko, Welt Yang, and March 7th all turned their faces away, pretending they didn't know this clown.
Sol withdrew his hand after flicking Stelle on the forehead and said helplessly, "Think about Mikhail. Think about the meaning of your Trailblaze!"
"Oh, right." Stelle's eyes cleared, yet she was still puzzled. "But I really feel like what he said is right."
Sol nodded, his expression odd. "He really is good with words, and his ideals are lofty—very easy to inspire people."
Why did it feel like the Sunday he was facing was even more eloquent? Could it be that his presence somehow boosted the enemy's talking skills?
Sol stepped forward, looked at Sunday, and said, "There's nothing wrong with pursuing peace, and nothing wrong with opposing exploitation. But ignoring real conditions and creating an escapist dream—now that's a serious problem."
"This world is a dual realm of spirit and matter. Any issue must be considered with both aspects together. No matter how lofty an ideal is, once it's divorced from material reality, it becomes nothing but hollow rhetoric."
"If there were only a spiritual world, your method would be absolute truth. But in a dual-realm reality, focusing solely on the spiritual world is leading them toward destruction."
"The power of the soul is consumed. If they fail to awaken and escape the dream within a limited time, it is no different from dying under an illusion."
Before resolving the sapient enemies led by the Aeon of Destruction and the various natural threats of cosmic disasters, a dreamlike paradise would shatter at a single poke.
Whether gods should or should not govern human fate was secondary—do not argue that point here.
From a rhetorical standpoint, this could be categorized as the kind of universally righteous, vague discussion about saving the world—something difficult to refute from the perspective of human nature. But once you start from reality, countless objective factors immediately expose a series of flaws.
That also makes so much sense!
Stelle stared blankly at Sol, feeling that it was absolutely correct.
"That is indeed the case." Sunday sighed and had to admit it. "If I possessed power beyond that of an Aeon, only then could I create a perfect world. What exists now is, indeed, crude."
Then his tone shifted, growing impassioned. "But how do you know I won't find the perfect solution in the future? I will carry them all forward with me!"
===BREAK===
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