There's no telling whether the video would cause a stir in the numbers.
But the first to be shaken up was definitely the Interastral Peace Corporation.
In theory, moderation for a cosmic-level video platform like this should be handled by AI.
But Sparkle's video had managed to trigger certain keywords.
Once the AI detected the mention of the Amber Lord, it flagged the video for human review.
And so, the moderator, expecting just another piece of fanatical praise for the Amber Lord or some messy, half-baked historical nonsense, clicked open the video—and was instantly stunned senseless.
To ordinary people, Aeons were beings shrouded in mystery, lofty and untouchable.
Many didn't even know their names.
But today, this video gave our moderator a crash course.
The Fables About the Stars were quite famous across the universe, but there were countless versions, full of gaps and inconsistencies—wild, scattered lore that mostly coasted on mystical hype.
That's why so many creators loved using it as material.
But!
She had never, ever seen a creator take it to this level.
It was as if the creator had set up a camera right in front of the Aeons, filmed them, and edited it all in.
"By the Amber Lord, what even is this…"
The moderator felt as though each Aeon had taken a turn staring straight into her soul.
At first, she imagined herself as an emissary of Destruction, conquering worlds; then she felt like a follower of The Hunt, pursuing cosmic justice.
Later, she became a seeker of wisdom, destined to spread intellect across the galaxy…
In those brief moments each Aeon appeared, she almost believed she was being pulled into the path of different Pathstriders.
But by the end of the video, accompanied by that mocking chuckle, she jolted back to reality—she was just a low-level employee, after all.
"This is terrifying… Should I even be watching this?"
Could a human even have made this?
No—this was way above her pay grade.
So she promptly escalated it.
But even her direct supervisor was just an ordinary person.
After all, Pathstriders were a rare breed in this universe.
So the head of the Moderation Department also got mentally locked in for a solid few minutes, only snapping out of it when Aha's laughter rang out.
And after that…the video made its way to the headquarters of the Interastral Peace Corporation.
Compared to ordinary folks, Pathstriders had higher resistance, sure.
But high resistance was one thing—as Pathstriders, they were even more aware of the terrifying weight this video carried.
It radiated the essence of the Aeons themselves, an overwhelming impact for any Pathstrider.
And so, even within the Interastral Peace Corporation, the video began racing up the chain at a frightening speed, until finally, it landed in the hands of top executives from several major departments.
Diamond watched the entire video in silence.
The other department heads fell quiet as well.
As leaders within the corporation, they'd seen it all.
But today, they witnessed something entirely new.
"Diamond, what's your take?"
A processed electronic voice came through the conference call.
As an Emanator of Preservation, he had seen the Amber Lord in person.
If Diamond felt the presence in the video was authentic, then the implications were staggering.
"The part with the Amber Lord felt real. Only a fraction, maybe one or two parts in ten, but without a doubt, it matches what I've seen. Honestly, it felt closer to the real thing than the corporation's official depictions."
"Sssp…"
The moment Diamond finished, someone audibly sucked in a breath.
"I've just received word. The Family's response is that it bears some resemblance to Xipe. They're even asking us who made this video."
"The Xianzhou Alliance's conclusion aligns with everyone else's. Madam Herta didn't bother replying to me, but I don't think we need to verify further."
As his colleagues discussed, Diamond was stuck on the final segment.
Once multiple sources had confirmed the video's authenticity, that deliberate mention of the Astral Express became especially noteworthy.
Had the long-dormant Astral Express prepared to set sail once more?
Was this information reliable?
Would the fallen Aeon of Trailblaze, Akivili, truly return?
Unlike the other Aeons, even with Akivili's name invoked, the visuals only showed a speeding train—not focused on the god, but on the Express.
Was there something special about this Astral Express, soon to embark once again, that made the creator grant it its own segment?
They'd have to keep an eye on it.
--+--
The meeting continued.
But whatever ulterior motives each of them held, only they themselves knew.
Regardless, the Astral Express had left a mark in everyone's minds.
If the Express never showed up again, fine.
But if it ever set sail once more, it would surely draw the attention of many.
"The board's position is that since there's no slander against the Amber Lord, the video can stay. But as for the creator… who's going to reach out?"
"..."
The question was met with brief silence.
It wasn't for any complex reason—but because of that line in the video description:
"Directed & Special Appearance By: Aha"
At first glance, everyone had scoffed.
But after watching the video, and especially after all the verification, that line couldn't be ignored.
And then came the problem:
If this "Aha" was real, then this video might just be another one of Aha's pranks for fun.
That so-called "Director Sparkle" might be completely irrelevant. And given Aha's reputation across the universe…whoever took this job was in for pure misery.
No one wanted to mess with Aha.
Who'd want to risk that lunatic showing up at their bedside in the middle of the night, wailing like a ghost? There'd be no one to complain to.
--+--
'Sparkle' had no idea what was happening inside the Interastral Peace Corporation, nor did she expect her video to climb all the way to the top.
She'd thought a moderator would contact her directly.
Heck, she'd even prepared a few Aha jokes just for the occasion.
But she never got to use them—the video went live without a hitch.
The only surprise was that the Interastral Peace Corporation even gave her video a modest promotion.
So the moment it dropped, a massive crowd flooded in.
And then—came the eerie, silent comment section.
'Sparkle' casually browsed the page.
The views, favorites, and likes were skyrocketing.
There were even tons of credit donations.
But the strange thing was, even as the numbers soared, the bullet comments—aside from a few at the very beginning—vanished completely afterward.
If it weren't for the slight boost Sparkle saw in her own stats, plus the chorus of wailing in the comments, she might've suspected the corporation of inflating her numbers.
As it stood, it seemed every viewer got mentally locked in for several minutes before they could even process what they'd seen.
--+--