Gyeon Jioh flicked her gaze upward.
A galaxy sprawled vast above her head.
It wasn’t the plaza of the Ground Floor she knew so well.
There was no border between sky and earth. With darkness pressing in on every side, a clear, shallow sheet of water held the stars the way a midnight salt desert would hold the night—brimming with them.
The constellations were so countless and so close it was dizzying, as if they might spill down. Beside her, Na Jo-yeon groaned.
“An observatory……?”
“It looks similar, but it isn’t the Celestarium. I moved us here because it seemed more suitable for a conversation.”
Is the Celestarium like this too?
Since long before she ever set foot in the Tower she already had a star and had no need to be chosen, so for Jioh this was a first-time view.
Taking it in, Jioh asked,
“An apology? I mean, putting the rest aside.”
“Mm…… As a director, I felt there was a moral responsibility. You went through a lot, and I’m sorry we couldn’t support you at all on our end.”
Regional directors and rankers were in the same boat. With the Tower between them, they were bound to each other’s lives; it wasn’t an entirely wrong way to put it. But—
‘Was he ever this humble a type……?’
Jioh’s sour look matched everyone else’s. The story about an E-rank turned director becoming a stubborn, prickly wreck had gotten quite famous among rankers.
Gyeon Riok, who’d kept running into Hong Haeya now and then while going up and down the Tower, wore a face that said, Has he finally snapped?
Being the adult in the room, Sa Sejong was first to compose his expression.
“No, sir. An apology? We know as well as anyone how hard the Director is working, day and night. You have our constant thanks.”
“You mean you understand?”
“Of course. We understand.”
“That’s a relief. I thought you’d get mad if I told you…