Tawell analyzed information about the Homeland World from the world fragment that had collided head-on with us, confirming that we were headed in the right direction. This was already tremendously good news—because even now, we could only describe the Homeland World's coordinates as "probably correct." We did not dare say they were definitely accurate.
The Homeland World's initial coordinates had been left behind by a God Race sentinel in ancient times—ancient even by the standards of the eternal God Race. Since then, ages had passed. Even universes with lifespans of hundreds of billions of years would be born and die countless times. Though the Homeland World had not perished, its position would change as the void shifted, and the God Race had used the laws governing those changes to derive a series of "probable coordinates."
Obviously, that entire process was full of uncertainty. Every step contained too many variables. Even after the God Race spent several months working desperately to select the coordinates, we still could not say for certain that the Homeland World was at the locations indicated by them.
Though Sandora and I were unwilling to admit it, this fleet expedition really did involve an element of gambling on luck. Circumstances had forced our hand. The Void Cataclysm had not left us much time, so even if we had to gamble, we had to come out and take a look. Now that Tawell had detected signals from the Homeland World in the world fragment, the weight in everyone's hearts had finally lifted: whether our homeland still existed or not, we could at least confirm that the course we had ultimately chosen through elimination was correct.
"Can you determine the Homeland World's exact location?" I asked greedily, but Tawell was not omnipotent. Faced with that question, she could only