The moment we step on the second floor, the atmosphere changed, showing the feel of an older themed building. Paintings adorned the walls, and antique furniture added to the vintage charm.
The office we were headed to was situated at the far end, and from a distance, it appeared to be rather big. It seemed that the owner of the office preferred an open and airy layout.
Inside the office, I noticed a spacious desk positioned near the window. An elderly man, approximately 60 years old, sat behind it, engrossed in writing on a notebook.
He wore a standard white polo shirt and sported silver-rimmed eyeglasses that complemented his white hair quite well.
"Dr. Hon, someone is here to see you," the female assistant who had guided me here announced.
"Do I have a meeting?" Dr. Hon inquired without looking at us.
"I'm here to consult with you about something, Dr. Hon," I got straight to the point and introduced myself.
Dr. Hon paused his writing and slowly raised his head to look at me, squinting his eyes to get a better look.
"And you are?" he asked.
"My name is Zyden, Dr. Hon. I've heard a lot about your research,"
"Which research?" he asked with a keen eye, scrutinizing me.
"There's a lot, but I'm particularly interested in your research about Moon Rocks," I responded. I had already gathered some information about him from his assistant.
There was a chance he also had a moonstone, so to be safe, I refrained from using my suggestion on him .
"Oh, someone else interested in those rocks! Please, have a seat, have a seat," he exclaimed, his demeanor undergoing a complete transformation after hearing my interest.
"So what do you know about the Moon Rocks ? " He asked eagerly.
"Not much, really. I've gathered information from various sources, but I'm really interested by the concept you mentioned in your book about the moon's influence on our minds,"
I had obtained a general understanding of his book by inquiring about key points from his assistant. While it might be challenging for others to retain all this information, I had my passive skills to assist me.
"So, how is this connected to the moon protecting our minds?" I inquired.
"Oh, this is the best part of the story." He chuckled.
"In that text, it was mentioned that the first generation of humans they created began developing some kind of special abilities. Initially, it was fine because the Zilliots didn't mind, as they were still more powerful.
However, with our ability to procreate, the humans progressed so fast that the Zilliots eventually stopped interfering in the world and merely observed from a distance," he paused to catch his breath.
"But things took a turn for the worse when humans gained more power,"
"Don't tell me..."
"That's right, humans waged wars against each other to gain control over Earth!" he shook his head in disappointment.
'As expected of greedy humans,' I sighed to myself. "what happened next ?"
"Let me take a sip of my coffee first," he requested, asking for a short break.
After a brief pause, he adjusted his sitting position and continued with his story.
"At first, the Zilliots didn't interfere because they loved the humans they'd created. But as the death toll among us increased due to wars, and with humans growing so fast that some even reached power levels close to the Zilliots, a new problem emerged."
"What problem ?"
"Well, unlike the Zilliots, who had bodies made of energy, humans had physical brains. They soon succumbed to their own power, and they turned insane, destroying anything in their path. In the end, the Zilliots had to create the Moon to protect us humans from our ourselves. It acted like a neutralizer or a buffer."
"No way," I leaned back in my chair, attempting to process everything he had told me. To others, it might sound like nonsense, but it matched with my own experiences.
"Zilliots," I murmured, quietly repeating the word to myself.
"Take my story with a grain of salt. Like I said, it's more like a myth at this point. Ancient people tend to exaggerate things after all." he chuckled aloud.
'I hope that's really the case,' I muttered to myself.