Prologue

Fourteen years ago.

Ninth Star District of the Steel Empire, Far East Land.

The lonely, frigid planet hung as ever at the edge of the star system. The secret landing of an armed military spacecraft meant that the infamous Crescent Prison had received a rare new guest.

A faint scent of blood lingered in the central command post as a one-eyed man in a suit slowly opened the office door.

An amiable old man stood outside. He was impeccably dressed, and the only thing drawing attention was the child in his arms.

The one-eyed man looked at the child in surprise. "This is the new prisoner?"

The old man nodded silently.

"He'll die here. Soon." The man frowned.

The old man smiled. "Those are the Marquis's orders."

The one-eyed man shrugged, strode back into the office, pressed a button, and gave the order decisively. "Chris, we've got a new prisoner. Put him in the Seventh District. Yes, the Seventh District."

The next second, he turned around and said bluntly to the old man, "Just hand him over to me."

"I've heard about that matter too. The Marquis certainly lives up to his reputation for cold-bloodedness... But what's with this child?"

The old man silently handed over the child. The latter neither cried nor fussed, merely rolling his bright black eyes as though deep in thought. An ancient pocket watch hung around his neck.

"His name is Ronan," the old man explained.

The one-eyed man's body jolted. He gave the old man a long, deep look and said nothing.

Yet the hands holding the child trembled faintly.

The noble old man soon departed this filthy, muddy land—as the Empire's upper ranks saw it—aboard the armed spacecraft.

The one-eyed man stood in the central command room, watching through the glass as the spacecraft took off and flew resolutely into the depths of space. At last, he let out a soft sigh.

"I always knew that tiger was cold-blooded, but I never expected him to be this ruthless."

"Little one, your fate is truly terrible."

"Try your best to stay alive... though that's almost impossible."

The office door opened soundlessly, and several guards filed inside.

A burly, scar-faced man strode over.

"I'm here to collect the prisoner."

The one-eyed man turned and spread his hands.

Everyone froze in astonishment.

At that moment, the child who had remained silent all along suddenly burst into an astonishing wail!

He was so tiny, yet the hand clutching that pocket watch was so strong.

The awkward men in the command post did not know that this cry was also the first sound Ronan had made since his birth.

Fourteen years later.

Seventh District, Crescent Prison.

Deep into the night, alarms suddenly blared!

Every guard and electronic police officer jolted awake—someone was attempting a prison break!

To be honest, such things did not happen often in Crescent Prison. As a prison with both private and military functions, Crescent Prison was the nightmare of nearly every criminal in the Empire!

Powerful guards, electronic signal suppression that reached everywhere, pervasive surveillance, impregnable fortifications, and multiple isolation measures ensured that prisoners who came here entered but never left.

In fact, not a single person had escaped Crescent Prison in nearly thirty years.

"When I catch that bastard, I'm going to kill him."

In the special isolation zone of the logistics passageway, a guard who was still half-asleep held his gun and yawned, silently cursing the troublesome escapee in his heart.

In his eyes, the escapee was simply increasing the workload for himself and his colleagues.

Perhaps someone in this world could escape Crescent Prison, but that person had not been born yet.

In the pitch-black night, he lazily put on his night-vision equipment.

East of the logistics passageway's isolation belt was the library. There were no hidden doors or tunnels nearby; no prisoner could possibly come this way.

Just as he thought that, a flash of green suddenly flickered across an emergency passage door ahead!

The guard was instantly startled.

He instinctively raised his weapon, his heart pounding.

The next second, darkness suddenly fell before his eyes, and every electronic device suffered a disruption in its data stream.

The door burst open, and a figure as swift as a cheetah appeared before him.

Without hesitation, he opened fire!

At Crescent Prison, guards had absolute authority to deal with escaped prisoners!

Bang!

The gunshot rang out. The figure suddenly ducked low and darted toward him at an unbelievable speed.

In an instant, the guard's back prickled. He tried to keep firing, but a sharp pain suddenly shot up from his groin!

"Motherf—"

Before the curse could leave his mouth, dizziness hit him, and the back of his head took a blow.

Boom! The burly guard collapsed at once.

The figure paused for a moment and let out a soft breath.

Not far away, a surveillance camera turned and swept in his direction.

He frowned, suddenly gripping the Pocket Watch against his chest as he asked in a low voice:

"Still haven't dealt with the surveillance?"

After a while, seemingly having received a satisfactory answer, his brow finally relaxed.

He glanced at the camera staring fixedly at him, smiled, and quickly vanished into the darkness at the end of the service corridor.

An hour later, an invisible spacecraft that had been hidden in advance at the designated location struggled into the air, passed over Crescent's already-paralyzed radar and other detection systems, and disappeared into the depths of space.

Meanwhile, in a Marquis Manor in the imperial capital.

A freshly prepared report was delivered to the Marquis's desk.

"He escaped just like that?"

The imposing, uniformed man surnamed Luo raised an eyebrow, showing little emotion.

The elderly man dressed as a gentleman nodded slightly. "The young master is very clever."

"If he were truly clever, I wouldn't have had to wait all these years." Marquis Luo said flatly, "He's caused so much trouble. Does he really think I wouldn't dare kill him?"

The old man smiled. "He is your son, after all. We tested him fourteen years ago. He isn't a wizard."

Marquis Luo fell silent for a moment, then waved his hand.

"Forget it. I've only been away for a few days, and there's already so much dust on the desk. Wipe it clean."

The old man asked, "How clean?"

The Marquis said impatiently, "As clean as possible, of course!"

In the pitch-black universe, the lonely spacecraft traveled slowly and laboriously onward.

Looking at the distant river of stars, the boy suddenly muttered, "It's out of power already?"

"I saved and scraped for fourteen years, and it all got blown in one go. What a prodigal piece of junk."

He shook his head and opened the seemingly old Pocket Watch.

A warm smile appeared before him. The woman with a smile as bright as the sun was his mother.

He would never forget her smile, just as he would never forget that fire.

The hands on the watch face still moved, but the annoyingly cheeky voice that had accompanied him for fourteen years had disappeared.

Maybe it really was out of power.

He took a deep breath and snapped the Pocket Watch shut.

Suddenly, the spacecraft began to shake violently.

"Damn it! Don't tell me this patchwork thing isn't sturdy enough and is about to fall apart?"

The boy rushed into the cockpit and was just about to check the relevant readings when an enormous spacecraft appeared across the starfield not far away.

Compared with his makeshift vessel, the colossal thing in the distance was like a monster from the depths of space, slowly baring its savage fangs.

Smack!

A blazing beam shot out from the spacecraft and locked directly onto the boy's little ship.

And at that moment, he saw the distinctive glowing inscription on the exterior of the ship.

When he saw that person's name, he silently gave up all thoughts of escape.

Beneath the vast radiance, guided by the brilliant light, the tiny spacecraft was slowly swallowed into the giant vessel's belly.

Stars dotted the galactic river as spacecraft moved silently among them; and what awaited the boy and this universe, as always, was fate—whether changing or unchanged.