Based on the Navigator's description of him, I expected Mr. Antony to be an introvert—a reclusive scholar who would hide away in his room reading alone. It wasn't until he actually visited the Colossus that I realized just how wrong I was. That day, I had planned on showing Mr. Antony around and giving him the low-down on daily life here. As we were walking along, he suddenly dropped to the ground, pulled out a magnifying glass, and inspected every inch of the corridor wall while mumbling incessantly to himself. To tell the truth, I was actually quite frightened and didn't really know where to go from there...
Luckily, Mr. Antony is a very affable kind of guy. When he noticed I was looking a little freaked out, he started apologizing over and over again, and explained to me how much he'd been looking forward to this opportunity to observe the Colossus up close. It turns out that whenever he finds himself in the presence of the unknown, even if he were to somehow find himself in the belly of an Eclipsite, he can't help but study the focus of his attention intently, completely oblivious to everything else around him.
A voracious appetite for knowledge is truly a terrifying thing.
—Vice

With regards to all I've learned on my travels, I have a considerable degree of insight to share! But when it comes to me, myself, there really are no sensational stories to tell... The knowledge I have accumulated comes primarily from self-taught learning. When I was young, the elders of my village, the craftsmen with their boundless experience, and the many books no one else wanted were all my teachers. The most valuable of these resources were the books, each one a world unto itself beckoning eager exploration. When I was 14 years old, there was a sudden upsurge in communication between Northland and the outside world, and a reading class was organized by our laird as a result. I attended these classes in my free time and borrowed as many books as I could from my teachers and classmates. As traveling merchants and bazaars passed through our village, I discovered an increasing variety of books, such as books on history, plants, and machinery... Never before had so many new worlds opened up to me.

Living on the border, I was naturally most fascinated by astronomy and the many questions it posed. Why does the sun rise? Why do stars disappear? Where do the auroras of Northland come from...? What did the magnificent night sky gazed upon by those ancient civilizations who created all those awe-inspiring ruins look like? Northland is home to various myths about the origins of the world, and even if we put their symbolic value to one side, I find the simple truths they highlight to be sufficiently appealing. Fueled by a thirst for knowledge, I left Northland hoping to further broaden my horizons. It's embarrassing to admit, but during this period, I thought I had already amassed enough knowledge to take the academy examination in Lumopolis. Needless to say, I failed miserably. The examiner in charge on the day yelled at me in an almost reprimanding tone, "Do you actually consider yourself worthy of Lumopolis' Dawn Academy? Copy out the complete history and teachings of Lumopolis ten times before you even think of retaking the examination!"
Hah! I still had a lot to learn.

And the truth is, even if I had passed the exam, I wouldn't have been able to afford to study in Lumopolis back then. I'm sure some people might see my travels as vagrant wanderings. But I have learned many things during my journey. Traveling to various places and meeting different people is also a valuable form of education. It was through exploring the continent that I realized there are many Aurorians in the world who share my passion for exploration, including certain noble scholars and Undercity technicians, as well as desert-dwelling explorers and members of clandestine organizations who operate in the shadows. Together, we explored ruins emitting mysterious sounds, encountered Eclipsites capable of speech, and gazed into the infinite starry sky. However, each of these individuals had their own goals with regard to exploration, and they always ended up going their separate ways. This particular path of learning ultimately became a path I was forced to walk alone.

I found that my journey of exploration was essentially without purpose. I'm not someone who's obsessed with acquiring ancient relics or forcing their views on others—attaining the truth and nothing more is enough of a thrill for me. In today's Astra, such an idea must seem preposterous to most people. I have heard the postulations of Lumopolis and engaged in discourse with members of the True Order to understand their respective opinions and opposing points of view. But I believe that their diverging views may all be part of the same truth. All of the knowledge they hold dear originates from this world, but it is presently scattered and fragmented. There are still many sects and organizations on the mainland that employ exclusionist practices. If only they would all put aside their differences and work collaboratively, we might actually be able to piece together some of these scattered fragments of knowledge, inducing even more of the world's buried wisdom. After all, the things we have seen and heard in Northland constitute only a small part of the mysteries this world has to offer, and there are still many more truths waiting to be uncovered...