"Boom―!"
Flas fiercely burned. Cheng Luohe stepped back, in front of him, the ten-ter-tall Divine Sect hall was being consud by fire.
This Divine Sect hall was built by the Deity six years ago for thought domination and brainwashing, harming countless people. Now, he finally burned down this place of sin.
"It has finally collapsed." A soldier teared up, several of his brethren had died within the halls of execution of this building.
"Collapsed, collapsed..." an old man with white hair kept repeating, no one knew what he had once suffered. He was but a microcosm of the countless soldiers and civilians.
People gazed at the collapse of this sinful building, their heads slightly bowed, eyes filled with sorrow.
"Rest in peace, brethren who were persecuted over these six years." Cheng Luohe stood before the building, his hands joined together, "From now on, I hope there will be no Deities in this world."
Your unwillingness, your indignation, the unyielding spirit of your lives... your chief has avenged you. Now as I burn this Divine Sect hall, I declare there are no more Deities in the world, may your souls find peace.
The fire cast a long shadow behind him; he picked up his crimson sniper rifle, covered his blinded eye, and re-entered the shadows of the city-state.
...
Between the blocks, Xì rose from a pool of blood, her ponytail high and lifted.
She had been fighting for hours, her body covered in wounds.
"Commander, I’ve always regretted... not being able to keep up with your pace. I am not as powerful as Tretiya, not as wise as Noah, not as patient as Beili Sier, not as resolute as Lin Guang. The only thing I could do was try my best to accompany you," she murmured, "Even though you can’t hear these words, I have lived these forty years without any sha in my heart."
She leaped up and dashed forward.
Fierce Yuan Guang burst out from her, like clusters of blooming lilies. chanical soldiers were severed under her blade, the soldiers who were struggling in fierce battles were liberated wherever she went.
As one of the Nine Thrones, she was inconspicuous and did not have a past filled with great suffering, but she was like an immovable rock, always waiting in the sa spot no matter what.
Now, of the Nine Thrones, only Rong Yuan and she were left alive.
Yet, she would still keep fighting.
...
At six in the morning, all the chanical people were killed, and the war was declared over.
During this ti, tens of thousands of chanical people felt lost while fleeing.
"Where has the Deity gone?" A chanical person with patterns painted on his body and with a butterfly knot on his head stood puzzled amidst the ruins.
They were originally humans from the Deity’s civilization; the Deity was suddenly expelled from the two-dinsional world, and they were left behind, trapped in the bodies of chanical people, unable to return to their civilization.
Having lost the Deity as their leader, they didn’t even know what to do.
"Why... can’t we go back?" A chanical person trembled.
"My daughter is still waiting for at ho. I promised her to rember the first lily of spring and to tell her about it when I got ho," a chanical person said hoarsely, "I still want to see her."
"You must believe in the Deity! He has only been expelled from the two-dinsional world; He will definitely co back to save us!" a chanical person shouted to the sky, "Deity! Co back quickly! Deity!"
Despite their continuous cries for the "Deity," God did not co.
What they welcod was the fury of the military and civilians of the Ruined World; as "invaders," they were bombarded by overwhelming artillery fire, their lives utterly dissipated in a foreign land, and they couldn’t return ho even in death.
"Mom, I want to go ho..."
"Daughter, daughter..."
"We just wanted to live, why..."
The battle of civilizations trumps all.
All of the chanical Army had been wiped out, and even if they housed the souls of another civilization, the military and civilians of the Ruined World would not allow them to survive.
The victor lives, the vanquished dies, with no room for maneuver.
An eye for an eye, blood for blood.
...
It was the first day of the 72nd year since the Catastrophe, 10 a.m., Doomsday City military hospital.
The hospital was very quiet, save for the sound of footsteps hurrying through the corridors and the long benches in the lobby where rows of Generals and Players sat, all of them with furrowed brows and deep sighs.
Occasionally, soone would glance at the door of a ward, craning their necks, as if waiting for sothing.
When the Doctor walked out of that ward, these people imdiately surrounded him.
"How is Su Ming’an?" Yamada Machiichi asked anxiously.
"He’s still in a coma. We’ve administered the dicine, but there’s no sign of him waking up. The Chief experienced an Emotional Resonance far beyond what a normal person can withstand; we have never heard of anyone who can endure the resonance of three individuals. Normally, even one such resonance is fatal..." the Doctor replied.
"So what’s going to happen to him?" people asked in a jumble of voices.
"We don’t know. He might wake up, he might not... and even if he does wake up, it might not be him. Based on experience, the chances of waking up are very low. It’s not impossible he could beco a vegetative state, so you all should prepare yourselves for the possibility of losing him, as the Main God World cannot repair the spirit," a mber of the Healing Series Players said from the side.
As soon as they heard Su Ming’an might not wake up, the Players erupted.
"Su Ming’an! Can you hear my voice? Wake up!" soone started shouting, trying to awaken Su Ming’an through the walls of the ward.
"Su Ming’an! Don’t sleep..." a female Player cried out.
"Su Ming’an! If you don’t wake up, I’ll steal Lv Shu away!"
"Su Ming’an! If you could save the Ruined World, you can wake up too!"
"What kind of treatnt is this? Deciding that Su Ming’an might beco a vegetable?" so felt angry.
"Noel! Don’t you have authority beyond that of the Organizers? Can’t you reverse ti and space to wake up Su Ming’an?" a Player asked Noel, who was in the corner.
At these words, the crowd fell silent, and all eyes turned to Noel.
Noel was slightly taken aback, his eyes ringed with dark circles, clearly from a lack of rest. Faced with the Player’s question, he replied softly, "I have no authority."
Although all the Players were convinced that Noel had authority, so long as he denied it, the Organizers couldn’t do anything to him for the ti being. Since he had resolved to take a bullet for Su Ming’an, he was prepared for the consequences.
Seeing Noel’s denial, soone couldn’t help but say, "Why are you so selfish? Can’t you save Su Ming’an?"
Noel was sowhat taken aback. He hadn’t expected to be accused in such a way.
He suddenly understood the difficulties Su Ming’an faced; the similar accusations Su Ming’an must have experienced were surely much more than his own. He felt a dramatic reversal of status.
Before he could respond, the person attempting to morally blackmail him was quickly dragged away. After all, Noel was a General, and it wasn’t a soldier’s place to accuse him.
"If Su Ming’an really never wakes up..." soone murmured.
"I truly feel like humanity is without hope..."
In the ensuing silence, the atmosphere was oppressive. People bowed their heads and sighed, speechless.
At that mont, a figure in a khaki trench coat flashed past in the corridor and entered the ward. A red braid traced a vermilion line through the air, like a scarlet butterfly.
...
Su Ming’an had a very long dream.
He tread through the apocalypse surrounded by steel and concrete, walked across the bloodstained chessboard of black and white, with the lingering sll of disinfectant in the air, never seeing the blue skies and white clouds again.
He passed through the cold, white city, where a blonde girl with blue eyes clung to his sleeve, humming to him a fairy tale of kings and witches. Then suddenly, she disappeared amid the sound of piano, like dying embers scattering.
He walked past the dim, grey-toned school building, where a young boy clutching a golden trophy waved at him, his figure gradually vanishing between the spotlight beams.
He journeyed through the dusky village, where blood-soaked crosses hung high, and ghosts sighed beneath their coffins.
Bathed in a blue-purple sky, he saw hundreds of white doves circling the high tower, a pristine figure stood silently in the distance, with a thousand souls singing its praise.
He saw the wooden building collapsing in flas where a black-haired girl kissed her lover amid the firelight.
He breathed the salty sea breeze where golden-armored knights stood guarding the city walls, and a red-haired girl glanced back at him. A red rose pierced through the heart of the Demon King as the dazzling Yun Shang City crumbled into the sea waves.
He walked into the black mist where the girl in a red robe shed tears, setting herself ablaze, consuming the world’s filth and ignorant faith in her flas, shouldering the entire darkened expanse of the sky with her own strength.
Afterward, he stepped into the light.
Sunlight filtered through the gaps in leaves, falling upon him like strands of hollowed gold. The fluttering thousands of ginkgo leaves passed by him gently.
Countless leaves, due to the shifting light, turned from gold to white, a myriad of golden "butterflies" filled the path, accompanying his footsteps.
"Lewis, will you go for a walk with ?"
He heard soone calling him, and so he turned around.
There was nothing but emptiness.
Amidst the dancing ginkgo leaves, no one stood there.
All he could do was keep walking forward, past the ginkgo tree-lined path.
Suddenly, he saw a white-haired youth, walking amongst the machinery forged from steel, a body of flesh and blood yet seemingly rged with the chanical army.
That gaze was like a wounded beast, silent gravestones, damp and rotting swamp in a rainy landscape.
But the soul of the white-haired youth was pure white.
How many pure white souls exist in the world?
"Lewis." When the white-haired youth saw him, he approached. "Co take a walk with ."
Su Ming’an’s throat tightened, he wanted to say "Yes," but in the next mont, the white-haired youth shattered and dispersed before his eyes, like many splendid white butterflies.
Only the quiet sound of bamboo flute played on, as it rolled to his feet.
...
Su Ming’an startled awake.
He opened his eyes to a damp chill at his back.
He gasped for air, his heart pounding rapidly. Pressing his hand to his chest, he could clearly feel the rapid throb inside his ribcage.
[Lewis, co take a walk with .]
[Lewis, it’s so good to et you.]
[Lewis...]
His ears were left with nothing but an unending echo. Suddenly, he felt an unusual sorrow, as though he had cried in his dream, and though he was now awake, it felt like a heavy stone lay upon him, his whole body aching as if torn.
"Stay calm... deep breaths..."
The whispering at his ear seed to be relaxing him.
Su Ming’an adjusted his state, slowing down his breathing, decelerating his heartbeat... His vision gradually clarified, and he saw the person sitting in front of his bed.
Su Rin sat in the chair at the bedside, a thick leather-bound book resting in his hands. His gaze was calm, his shoulders sagging slightly forward—a gesture offering a reliable support.
"The emotional resonance left you with severe post-syndro effects, likely to leave you in an eternal sleep. So I wove a dream for you, to help you rember who you are," Su Rin looked at him. "Take a deep breath, relax, keep your voice down, or else the group outside will notice you’ve awakened and rush in here, all excited."
"Has the war in the Two Dinsions ended?" Su Ming’an couldn’t focus on himself and imdiately asked.
Su Rin bowed his head slightly, as if he too was moved by the two thousand three hundred simulations of the Ruined World. After a mont, he said softly,
"It has ended."
"Tonight, the simulation at Caius Tower will co to a complete end."
"Don’t worry, no one has Achieved a Perfect Pass yet. As the supre leader of the war, you will be the first to do so."
In an instant, Su Ming’an finally relaxed.
He looked out of the hospital room window, where each building in the city-state was bathed in golden sunlight. People walked in the radiance, their whole bodies reflecting the gold-like brilliance.
The sunlight is so nice today.
So good.
"Su Rin, thank you," Su Ming’an said, looking out the window.
Su Rin stared at him for a few seconds. There seed to be a sudden tranquility between them, silent and peaceful. Su Rin appeared hesitant about sothing.
It was only when Su Ming’an’s gaze t his that Su Rin stretched out his hand and passed the item in his hand to Su Ming’an.
Su Ming’an trembled slightly, seemingly moved.
It was a blood-stained bamboo flute.
It lay still between the palms of Su Rin’s hands, the bloodstains on its body uncleaned.
"The flute he planned to give you was stolen by the rcenaries; this is his gift to replace it," Su Rin said. "I found it in the ruins of the building, for you."
Though Su Rin did not ntion who "he" was, they both understood.
Su Ming’an’s expression froze.
Five seconds later, he reached out to take the bamboo flute. Hanging from its tail was a clumsily made white tassel; Lin Guang could never learn to craft these properly.
But even though he could not learn, Lin Guang always tried his best to present the best to him. The tea he brewed might taste horrible, but he’d still offer it; the tassels might look ugly, but he’d still gift them.
The wonky Dragon Country characters on the flute were still ugly, really making one wonder how Lin Guang could claim to have learned well.
He smiled subconsciously, but quickly suppressed it, his fingers caressing the flute, leaving only bitterness in his mouth.
"There’s no need to be too sad, stay true to your feelings," Su Rin said. "You always silently do so much alone, just like when I was young. Loss is normal; after doing all you can to hold on, acceptance is good."
"..." Su Ming’an bowed his head.
After a while, he clipped the bamboo flute onto his left side, opposite of the flute on his right.
"I’m not sad."
Su Ming’an raised his head and gave Su Rin an ugly smile.
"This way... I now own two bamboo flutes."
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