The Mockery and Jeering.
When Cheng Shi stepped inside, his avatar—the spider web—had grown another full size, "capturing" nearly every kaleidoscopic wonder in sight and pinning it to the threads.
He cautiously surveyed the changes in himself, searching for Fate's form. But found nothing.
He couldn't see Fate.
Fortunately, the surging tide of Fate's essence flowed in a single direction. Following it, he finally sensed a presence beneath the churning Mockery and Jeering—sothing that "possibly existed."
Sensing an existence within a twisted River of Existence while that existence was itself Void—now that was irony.
Cheng Shi stared in that direction, eyes flickering, expression peculiar.
All those days and nights of accumulated blasphemy, and it ca down to... a cry for help. No matter how thick your skin, you couldn't just swagger up to your benefactor and beg at a ti like this.
But Cheng Shi didn't consider himself a person.
He imdiately switched to devout mode and wailed toward that direction, tears streaming: "My Lord! Save !"
A terrifying ripple of Fate's power detonated from within the Mockery and Jeering, carrying a world-ending aura that surged in every direction.
The colossal pressure buckled Cheng Shi's body for an instant—but soon, the divine oppression bypassed the only Fate Weaver present and redirected its fury at the surrounding Mockery and Jeering.
The twisted seethed. The absurd burned. The abstract unwound.
And then, once again, those spiraling, star-flecked celestial eyes opened before him.
Their gaze was glacial as ever, the outer corners slightly drooped—clearly harboring boundless rage. He looked upon His follower, furious that he hadn't tried harder, yet softened His tone's icy edge with sothing resembling pity for this unfortunate soul:
"The wrong path... was it pleasant?"
"..."
'Felt like getting slapped.'
Cheng Shi's cheek throbbed with phantom pain. He lowered his head awkwardly, still making excuses:
"How can one appreciate Fate's 'fixed destiny' without walking the wrong path? Change is also Your authority. At the very least, the road walked on the wrong path was still... getting closer to You..."
It was a defense completely devoid of conviction. Normally, after saying sothing like this, Cheng Shi would simply brace himself for divine punishnt. But today was different—Fate was imprisoned and couldn't discipline him.
More unexpectedly, the imprisoned Fate's gaze actually softened considerably at these words. Even the boiling Mockery and Jeering around them gradually stilled.
Seeing it worked, Cheng Shi imdiately laid out everything—his deductions about Deceit's allegory from the trial. He no longer cared whose territory this was. There would be only one chance. If he couldn't win Fate's support here, all that awaited might truly be another "wrong path."
Of course, Fate's support probably wouldn't be a good thing either—a sacrifice could never escape a sacrifice's fate. But choosing the lesser of two evils, staying in his own world to serve as a sacrifice beat being dragged to another world as soone else's salvation tool.
Cheng Shi was desperate. He kept himself as composed as possible, delivering a clear and organized account of his suspicions about Deceit, his fear of Deceit, his rebellion against Deceit...
Fate was silent throughout.
Cheng Shi sensed sothing was off. He paused, looked up questioningly—and when Fate still didn't respond, he gritted his teeth and finally asked the question that had plagued him for so long.
"The Outer God Deceit's desire to steal the clown is itself a validation of the 'fixed.'
But Your follower has never been able to understand—what is 'fixed destiny,' exactly? And why... am I the fixed?
And how can You be so certain that the lofty, unapproachable Origin needs the 'fixed' that You champion?"
"Insolence!
You will not disrespect Him!"
"..." Hearing Fate's rebuke, Cheng Shi let out a wry laugh and suddenly relaxed.
He spread his hands, staring into those eyes, unconcerned: "Insolent, then. I'm about to die anyway—what's the point of watching myself?
My Lord, since I can't escape this fixed destiny, why won't You let
die with understanding?
If I'm offered to the Creator while drowning in confusion, wouldn't He be displeased by devotion tainted with impurities?
No matter how you look at it, this is the right ti to let
know the truth.
I've accepted my fate. The mont I learned Deceit ca from beyond this world and intended to take
to another, I accepted it.
The fixed will always be the fixed. No matter how much I resist or rebel, it always finds a way to pull
back on track—to make
'willingly' beco the fixed.
I just never expected the final thod would be shattering every illusion I held about the Fear Faction...
And now, all that separates
from 'willingly' is a single truth.
Tell
the truth of the fixed, and I will beco the 'fixed' as You understand it.
You once said it wasn't You who chose , but that the fixed resides in . Then why does it reside in !?
I know I may not deserve to seek the truth. But please, shelter
one last ti... my Lord..."
"..."
The Mockery and Jeering froze in an instant—as if eternally sealed in ice. Even the colors dimd, the distortions vanished, and against this backdrop, those celestial eyes blazed ever more brilliantly.
Fate lowered His gaze upon His follower and heaved a deep sigh.
In the end, He relented, and spoke the answer to Cheng Shi.
"This is not my will. It is..."
"Origin!?" Cheng Shi's pupils contracted violently. Cold sweat poured from every pore. "My Lord—don't tell
that the Creator who sits above billions of lives—no, billions of universes—that the purpose of His universal experint is to... anchor a single mortal!
!?"
Fate said nothing. He hadn't finished—but He had already said everything.
"Ha. Hahahaha!"
Cheng Shi burst into laughter. Louder and louder, clutching his sides, pounding the ground—utterly unhinged, wholly beyond control.
He couldn't understand. Refused to understand.
"What virtue do I possess, what ability, to warrant a Creator's sole attention?
What does He want? What is He doing!?
My Lord—You chose
as a sacrifice perhaps to please Him. But what did He choose
for?
Is there sothing above even Origin!?
If not—then surely He doesn't an to pass the Origin's throne... to !?
Hahaha—then I'm about to beco Origin!?
Good, good, good—all gods extinguished, the universe dissolved—behold: Origin!
No wonder those words echo through the Real Universe's graveyard! I understand now!
The day I succeed Origin shall be the day this absurd universe is dismantled!
Gods should never have existed in this world!"
Sensing the despair in His follower's heart, Fate forgave his blasphemy against the Creator.
But He offered no comfort. Because the fixed could not be changed.
He could tolerate Cheng Shi going astray for the sake of the fixed—but He would not tolerate Cheng Shi abandoning the fixed out of despair. This was Fate. What He favored was never a particular follower. It was the road ahead.
'Heartless!'
Two words leapt into Cheng Shi's mind. But he didn't dare say them aloud.
He was the one asking for a favor, after all. No matter how shattered he felt, he couldn't fling those words in Fate's face.
Cheng Shi laughed himself out. He lay sprawled across the Mockery and Jeering, emptied himself, gazed up at the distortions, and murmured like a madman:
"What's so good about ? What's the point of choosing ?
How can this world be this absurd?
Ha—co to think of it, the last person who chose
for no reason at all... was Old Jia.
Old Jia?
Right—what if Origin is Old Jia?
Maybe this is just a Creator-father's succession trial for the mortal son He adopted.
I'll only inherit His divine throne if I pass, right? Don't you think so, my Lord?"
"Utter nonsense!"
The Mockery and Jeering erupted again, and Void's frigid essence ca surging out.
...
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