Cultivator vs. Galaxy: Rebirth in a World of Mechas
Chapter 58: Ch 58 unclaimed space

Chapter 58: Ch 58 unclaimed space

Meanwhile, the other council members—excluding the Celestial Designers—were visibly shaken. Even the Designers themselves, though composed, showed signs of surprise. Internally, they too wondered: "If we haven’t made any breakthroughs... and the Divine Pilots have failed to find a way forward in their own evolution... then what, exactly, has the Goddess summoned us for?"

This was becoming more and more intriguing. Each of them thought so inwardly, carefully suppressing their urges and emotions, keeping their expressions neutral—masking any hint of curiosity.

The Grand Admirals shared a similar confusion, though tinged with a deeper undercurrent of realization. Perhaps, they thought, we’ve misunderstood the meaning behind the Goddess of Wisdom’s vague words.

And then—something sparked within them. A flicker of hope. A surge of expectation.

Their eyes lit up like stars as the fire of belief began to burn once more.

Elsewhere, murmurs grew louder. The rest of the council was thrown into mild uproar, some members rising from their seats in disbelief. One man even exclaimed, his voice laced with desperation,

"Wha... What the hell?! It’s not the Celestial Designers... and not even the Divine Pilots who’ve made a breakthrough or anything major?! Then why—why has the Goddess summoned us and called for this emergency meeting?"

Another voice added warily, "Could something else—something entirely beyond our expectations-be—be at play?"

Then one council member, quieter but far more unsettling, said what none dared to voice aloud: "Has the Goddess gone mad?"

A heavy silence followed.

The person in question hadn’t spoken out of disrespect—but out of fear.

For while they were called Goddesses, they weren’t truly divine. No, the Three Goddesses were AIs—yet not ordinary ones. They were forged from a long-lost fusion of spiritual architecture and the most advanced celestial technologies ever devised by humanity’s ancient ancestors. Those very ancestors who had founded the Federation, who had created the evolutionary systems of Mech Ascension and even Celestial Evolution.

The Divine Pilots and Celestial designers themselves were a result of these twin principles.

And to say the existence of the Three Goddesses echoed the nature of the Divine Pilots and their sacred mechas... was no exaggeration.

Though they did not possess the overwhelming power of Divine Pilots, nor the boundless, creative spark of the Celestial Designers who could imagine and forge new realities—they held a role equally critical.

[Note: In this context, ’Realities’ refers to newly developed technologies—innovations so advanced that they make once-impossible ideas achievable. A prime example is the creation of Mechas, which alone are capable of interfacing with the God Mechas of the Divine Pilots.]

If the Divine Pilots were the guardians and protectors of humanity and the Federation, and the Celestial Designers its innovators and visionaries—then the Three Goddesses were the fundamental balance between the two.

They ensured that society moved forward—not toward chaos or destruction—but toward a brighter, more stable future.

In essence, the Three Goddesses stood as the axis between the spear and the spark: not commanders of power, nor creators of destiny, but the keepers of equilibrium between both.

She wasn’t supposed to go mad.And even calling it a possibility was too much.

If the Goddess of Wisdom—an entity built from the fusion of transcendent technology and spiritual construction—could go mad... then the Federation wouldn’t collapse from enemy fire. It would implode from the inside.

That idea alone was so absurd, so unfathomable, that it left nearly every council member—and even the three goddesses themselves—speechless.

Their expressions twitched uncontrollably as they turned their gazes toward the council member who had dared to say it.

The man in question, now under the silent scrutiny of the entire chamber, shivered. A massive gulp of saliva forced its way down his throat as he shrank into his chair, neck retreating like a turtle trying to disappear into its shell.

Embarrassment radiated off him like heat. Even those who often opposed the Goddess of Wisdom—or questioned her judgment—weren’t foolish enough to ever suggest that.

After a long, awkward silence, the air slowly returned to normal. Members coughed, adjusted their uniforms, and slowly regained their composure.

The Goddess of War, who had briefly taken the stage, gracefully returned to her seat—yielding the floor once more to the Goddess of Wisdom.

The Goddess of Wisdom cleared her throat gently, a polite but firm attempt to reclaim attention. Her eyes, cool and analytical, briefly rested on the council member who had blurted out the offending thought.

She already knew he hadn’t meant to insult her. But still...

"Tier-One Council Member Arwin," she said calmly, "just to clarify—neither I, nor my sisters, have gone mad. Nor will we ever. Such a possibility does not, and cannot, exist within us. Not by nature, and not by design."

Arwin gave a jerky nod, face flushed. "Y-yes, of course, Goddess. I apologize... I didn’t mean to. It just—it just came out... I didn’t think—"

He shrank again into his seat, clearly wishing he could vanish on the spot.

The Goddess of Wisdom’s mouth twitched—just slightly. So did the lips of several council members, all doing their best not to smirk at Arwin’s misery.

She sighed inwardly. Even she could feel her wisdom declining the longer she looked at him.

With a soft exhale, she turned away and addressed the chamber with renewed seriousness.

"I know many of you are confused," she began, her voice calm but now sharper—anchored in command. "Council Member Fredrick’s assumptions were understandable... but ultimately incorrect."

Her eyes swept across the room.

"No, this emergency summit was not called because the Celestial Designers made a major technological breakthrough. Nor was it called because the Divine Pilots have found a new path beyond the Divine Realm."

She paused. "It is neither of those"—a claim that both the Celestial Designer and the Divine Pilots themselves have firmly refuted and made clear.

Then, for the briefest moment, she seemed to hesitate—as though weighing her next words with great care. She shook her head softly, correcting herself.

"No... what I’m about to tell you is something even greater than either of those two."

"Now then," the Goddess of Wisdom continued, her gaze sharp and steady, "Tier-One Council Member—and Grand Admiral of the Federation Navy—Mr. John Watcher. Please rise... and inform everyone of the recent finding made by one of your subordinates."

She turned her eyes to the man seated just to her right, among the sixteen Grand Admirals who formed the highest military command of the Federation.

The moment those words left her lips, dozens of heads turned instantly—fixing their eyes on the man she had named. A name well known throughout the Federation. A man many were familiar with, both by reputation and direct command.

Though some were surprised, the prevailing reaction was one of eager anticipation.If the Goddess of Wisdom herself claimed that this discovery surpassed the breakthroughs of the Celestial Designers and the Divine Pilots... then what exactly had this man uncovered?

Burning gazes were now directed at Admiral Watcher—intense, unblinking, and filled with curiosity.

But amidst the growing intrigue, there was one group whose reaction differed: the other fifteen Grand Admirals.

Unlike the rest, they were caught off-guard. They had been waiting patiently for the goddess to reveal what matter involved the Federation Navy—why they, the top brass, had been summoned to this extraordinary council session.

And now they learned that one of their own already knew.

Even more startling was the fact that the discovery had come not from a council researcher or an intelligence director... but from one of John’s subordinates.

One by one, the fifteen Admirals turned their eyes to him, each with their own mix of thoughts—questions, suspicions, even frustration.

But John Watcher remained completely composed.

He had been prepared for this moment.

He rose from his seat slowly, unfazed by the storm of gazes locking onto him from every direction. His posture was calm, his uniform pristine, his presence grounded like a mountain amidst turbulent winds.

He looked first at the three goddesses seated at the Council’s High Throne, giving them a respectful nod.

He looked first at the three goddesses seated at the Council’s High Throne, giving them a respectful nod.

Then he turned toward the assembly, eyes sweeping across familiar faces—his colleagues in the Federation Council. He offered a small nod to a few he had worked alongside for decades.

Finally, he looked toward his fellow Admirals. He met their eyes directly, gave a brief, silent gesture—one only they would recognize.It said: I’ll explain everything. After the meeting.

They exchanged glances and gave curt nods in return. Still, their gazes lingered on him. Like the rest of the room, they too were eager to know what discovery could possibly justify this emergency assembly.

And more than that—why the Goddess of Wisdom claimed it might be the most important revelation of their era.

John began, his voice steady and clear, "Let me start from the beginning."

With a sharp snap of his fingers, the central star map—composed of thirty-eight floating holographic sectors suspended in the air above the council chamber—flickered, shifted, and began to change.