"...."

Before the Cosmic Elder's roar could fade, Althera clenched her teeth so tightly her jaw trembled, then lowered herself until her forehead almost brushed the sand. Her voice was faint yet filled with shame. "Forgive me… I let my emotions take control."

"Tsk~" The old man clicked his tongue, then turned toward Robin with that same sly grin that mixed both mischief and decay. He tilted his head toward Althera and said with mock amusement, "Women and their feelings, huh? Heh heh heh."

"...." Robin couldn't help but smile faintly, even in front of that distasteful laugh. There was a bitter warmth in it—because this was the old man's way of coping.

This ancient being… in his own mind, he was already gone. Every breath he took was borrowed time. These last few days, he hadn't truly lived—he had merely been waiting for the right moment to exhale his final breath and step quietly out of existence.

When one lives for tens of millions of years, that existence itself becomes its own curse. It's not life anymore—it's eternity staring back at you with cold, indifferent eyes.

How can someone like that accept death with peace? Especially a being like the Cosmic Elder—a man who carried the weight of entire realities upon his weary shoulders—and still, still wished to know what would come 2.2 million years from now.

No, he hadn't accepted his fate. He might have claimed to, but deep down, every word hinting at his approaching end sliced through him like a blade.

He wasn't resigned—he was merely performing resignation. What he truly wanted was to leave this world with dignity, not despair— to fall gracefully rather than rot in fear.

"By the way," the elder said suddenly, breaking the silence as his eyes gleamed faintly beneath his wrinkled brow, "you said you brought something good for me, didn't you? What is it?"

When Robin noticed that flicker of fragile hope cross the old man's face—like a dying ember refusing to fade—he gave him a soft, sympathetic smile. "Take a guess."

"Oh…" The elder turned his gaze aside, fingers stroking the bark of the palm beside him as he pondered. "My troubles lie in the Master Laws themselves. The Law of Truth is too pitiful to do anything beyond watch and record. So we can set that one aside."

"....."

"....."

"....."

"And you surely didn't bring me a woman to keep me company in my final days and fill the house with children again," the elder leaned closer to Robin, whispering like a mischievous conspirator, "because frankly—I'm long past that kind of glory, heh."

"...."

"That leaves only one possibility," he went on, his cracked lips curving into that same ugly, knowing grin, "one single thing you could do for me that I would truly consider good. And only you, of all people, are capable of doing it."

"Oh? And what might that be?" Robin asked, his tone gentle but edged with curiosity. He already suspected what the elder was leading toward. This wasn't about power or objects—it was something deeper, something only a dying being would ask for.

"…To meet him." The elder's voice softened as he extended his frail, trembling hand and placed it gently on Robin's shoulder. "You wish to summon him, don't you? To let him see me—so that he might acknowledge what I've done for all creation… perhaps even offer me some form of gift?"

"…?" Althera, Shaddad, and Jabba exchanged uneasy glances, their hearts tightening at the mention of him—the mysterious figure whom even the Cosmic Elder revered.

"Acknowledge you?" Robin chuckled quietly, though there was a trace of sorrow in his laughter. "While you keep interfering with the cosmic wars he's been weaving? You truly think that would earn you favor?"

The old man's face didn't flinch. He only sighed, a deep, hollow sound that spoke of ages gone by.

For someone like the Cosmic Elder, there was no treasure left unseen, no secret corner of existence left unexplored. The only mystery that still eluded him—the only regret that refused to die—was the All-Seeing god himself. The one whose gaze saw through all timelines, all outcomes, all truth.

"...." The elder slowly withdrew his hand and let it rest on his lap, his back pressing weakly against the palm trunk behind him. His voice was almost a whisper now. "I interfered a few times to halt the slaughter between living beings. I couldn't just stand and watch as everything bled into nothingness. But maybe… maybe he sees things differently. Perhaps he intends something beyond what my blind eyes can comprehend."

For a fleeting instant, hope shimmered faintly in the dim glow of his face. "But I held back the Space Beasts and the Plague. I stopped them from consuming the cosmos itself. That must count for something, mustn't it? That should earn me at least one meeting with him… right?"

"...." Robin exhaled softly, his voice weighed down by truth. "He sees all, old man. When he appeared last time, he told me everything I had done during his absence. He's already watching you—through the shard that resides within my soul domain. If he wanted to appear before you, he would have already. I'm… sorry."

"…Oh." The elder's lips trembled faintly as he nodded, his gaze growing distant. "Then perhaps what I've given… wasn't as significant as I once believed." He looked upward, toward the endless void above, his words trembling between irony and exhaustion. "But who could I possibly blame? Even the Law of Balance itself turned its back on me… so how could that entity ever look my way? Heh~ pathetic. Truly pathetic."

"...." Robin said nothing. The image of that day—the golden scale descending from the heavens, shining with judgment—still haunted him.

It lingered like an invisible weight in his chest, a memory too bright and too heavy to forget, pressing endlessly upon his soul.

"Fine… then there's truly nothing you can offer me," the old man muttered, his tone calm but steeped in quiet resignation. His weary gaze drifted toward the horizon, where the endless sea shimmered beneath the dying light. "Stay here as long as you wish, rest if you must, then leave. But before you go, catch me a ton or two of fish. The tides have been restless lately… and my strength isn't what it once was." His voice faded at the end, as though the weight of centuries pressed upon his lungs.

"Your Excellency Cosmic Elder, we cannot simply depart like that," Althera pleaded, taking a step forward. "I still need your guidance—please, tell me what to do." She approached Robin's side, her posture lowering in respect. "How do I rally the other academies? How do I move them to act?" Her voice trembled, caught between desperation and hope.

"Be strong." The elder scratched the top of his bald head with a few frail fingers, as if those words alone carried the answer to everything.

"...That's all?" Althera blinked in disbelief. "Please… I'm asking for more than a phrase. Teach me your methods—your words that once stirred whole generations to rise. How did you rally the scattered worlds, ignite their courage, make them believe in the purpose of their existence?"

Her tone grew heavier, her frustration slipping through. "Every academy now either hides behind its walls or pretends not to hear me. They shut their gates, ignore my summons for the guardians and rulers to assemble. Only one academy, in Mid Sector 101, promised me an audience 'soon.' That was years ago!"

"...Heh~" The elder's shoulders lifted slightly as he sighed, a dry smile curling at the edge of his mouth. He turned his head to the side, eyes tracing the waves. "Hmm?" he murmured when he finally noticed Jabba and Shaddad standing silently behind.

Robin spoke in his stead, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "Your Majesty, how did you reach such power and yet remain so naive? Most heads of the academies cling to their authority like parasites. They use their honorable stations as excuses to hoard wealth and fame, caring only for the status that power brings. None of them intend to sacrifice what they've built for the sake of others, much less for a cause larger than themselves."

Althera's brows furrowed, her expression torn between anger and understanding.

Robin continued, his tone sharpening. "They obey the Cosmic Elder only because he is stronger—because he gave the system its authority and could strip it away at any moment. It's not respect or history that binds them—it's fear. Strength is the only language they still understand. Only by power can you bend them to your will."

"They are my equals!" Althera shouted, her voice echoing through the still air. She gestured with both hands, her composure cracking. "How can I attack academies that stand on the same level as I do? If I move against them, they'll call me insane—a tyrant who no longer knows friend from foe! I don't want to destroy them—I just want them to stand together against a shared enemy!"

"Personal interests outweigh unity," Robin replied coolly, brushing the sand from his hands as he rose to his feet. "Until the space beasts reach their own gates, no one will move. If you're not ready to control them, don't waste your breath hoping for their help."

Althera's shoulders sagged. Her heart sank deeper with every word. She knew he was right… and yet, she hated that truth. How could she possibly control them? Only someone like the Cosmic Elder could command that level of authority, that kind of reverence that silences worlds.

"Hey, dear Robin…" The old man's voice broke through the tension again, carrying an odd tone—half amusement, half disbelief. His wrinkled face lit up with faint curiosity.

Robin turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. "Dear? Since when do you call me that, old man? What is it now?"

"...That young man there," the elder said slowly, his arm trembling as he raised a crooked finger toward Jabba, "is he… the gift you brought for me?"

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