Do you like this kind of Eternal Cradle?
Gawain suddenly thought of the hatchling that had just awakened from its incubation sac, of the cheerful cry it had given him; of the "inferior citizens" in the lower districts, already muddled by addiction to enhancers and hallucinogens, utterly reduced to nourishment for the gods; of that chaotic, frenzied arena, of the dragons fighting on the field... Those were more than a dozen cold Steel Machines fighting, their frames bound with brains and ganglia immersed in enhancer-induced hallucinations.
Those dragons were indeed still alive—but Tarlonnd was already dead.
"How terrifying," he suddenly said softly. "Neither life nor death has any value."
After a pause, he asked, "Can the Eternal Cradle be broken?"
"That would come at an enormous cost," the Dragon God said quietly. "And the chances of success are exceedingly slim. In the end, this cradle itself is already the price of failure, and the laws of nature are never forgiving toward failures. Any race—even the powerful dragons—can hardly afford to fail twice."
As She spoke, She suddenly raised Her eyes, Her line of sight falling upon Gawain's face. "Then do you want to help Tarlonnd break this 'Eternal Cradle'?"
"Me?" Gawain pointed at himself and could not help laughing. "How could I possibly be capable of that?"
"You could destroy it with a single Order," the Dragon God said with a faint smile. "Why not assume that you also have the ability to break the 'cradle' on this continent?"
It seemed like a joke, yet Gawain could not help seriously considering it. After several seconds of thought, however, he still shook his head. "No. At least, not now."
"Why?" The Dragon God showed a hint of curiosity. "Don't you find this cradle terrifying?"
"I am not the dragons' savior—there has