The situation was truly strange. We had originally come here to uncover the Green Star Secret, which should have been a remnant of the Old Empire from tens of thousands of years ago—a high-tech Planet Warship, or at least a Planetary Fortress. I had expected to find layer upon layer of encrypted Databases, crisscrossing starship corridors, armed-to-the-teeth automated defense robots, perhaps even waves of hibernating Ancient Guardians popping out. Then I would lead this group of girls whose combat power broke through the heavens, charging in with great fanfare and digging up some ancient secrets from the planetary core Database—that was how things were supposed to develop.
But this was how things had actually turned out: we had indeed passed through two starship corridors and encountered a high-tech complex, but our final destination was a low-gravity "satellite" floating within the planet's core. That was the only name I could come up with. What exactly should one call a miniature planet sealed inside the core? Constantly calling it the little green ball did not seem appropriate, so Tawell suggested Earth's Core Satellite. Who said satellites had to orbit planets? Stuffing one inside a planet and carrying it off worked too. This low-gravity satellite was lush and green, protected by an ancient shield system against the thousand-degree conditions of the surrounding core. Countless gigantic plants grew here with the wild excess of a fairy-tale world, but ninety-nine percent of them were Mass Projections that would crumble at a pinch. The ground was covered by the only solid thing here: vines that seemed to wrap around the entire Earth's Core Satellite. Oh, and we had also run into a messy little girl who appeared to have some intellectual issues. Throw a kid like that into the Life Goddess's temple for three years, and