Chapter 466 The Crimson King (End)
Darkness envelopes the throne, and there is nothing here, as if everything has been annihilated in the fate of the end before entering into existence, and all sounds and smells have turned into It is a meaningless wisp of dust in the void of truth, and the dust itself never existed for a moment.
This is the remaining dark ruins after the end has come for millions of years. It is the destined end of nothingness that time is accelerating towards. And after it crosses the end, it returns to the same beginning that has not entered the light, swallowing the world before it was born. of swaddling.
Magnus placed his palms on the blocking curtain wall, and soon he lost the feeling of his palms. This slight trembling and spasmodic deprivation spread throughout his body, changing his brain's mapping of the world bit by bit. Removed, his tool for understanding the outside world was taken away by darkness.
He slid gently against the curtain wall and fell into the nothingness that held him up. The feeling of his body touching the entity was gone, leaving only the hint of eternal fall in the inertia of his consciousness—— Even the demigod's mind cannot cope with the bone-shattering void beneath the throne of the Dark King.
He kept falling, and kept falling to the deepest place. His non-existent face was screaming and shouting, and his insensible stomach was throbbing in trembling pain. He stretched out his hands and grasped blindly, like a blind man touching the heavenly book in mid-air. braille.
Stop, he shouted to himself, the imaginary voice reduced to a thin scream, stop, Magnus! What else can you do!
The Crimson King continued to fall. His conventional thinking simulated the acceleration brought about by his fall. His neck was so painful that it was on the verge of breaking. His breathing had stopped centuries ago. It was over. He was already a pile of numb and out-of-control flesh and blood, falling into the silent abyss, grabbing his spirit by the throat and dragging him down...
The Emperor...
He Forcing himself to imagine the faint and undetectable golden light of the Emperor, before the darkness completely deprives his soul, he must ascend to the higher state of consciousness and temporarily escape from the terror of the body...
If he wants to see the Emperor, he must reopen the Thutmnes Rune, allowing the source of darkness to be locked up again in the cage of the Milky Way. In this way, he can break through the blockade of the formation and truly come into contact with the Emperor's remnants. Light...and what happens after that? The Lord of Darkness can still feed on the destruction and death in the world, grow indefinitely, and fill in the missing parts that remain vacant after drinking half of the original body...
Ten Thousand Lives, hundreds of thousands, millions, the more they try to hunt the darkness, the stronger it grows, an irredeemable festering cyst, a gestating baby of unbridled greed, medicine and blood It’s all its nourishment.
The whirlpool of despair throws Magnus back to the bottom of the spiritual environment. If he shakes again, he will fall with his body in endless terror. The darkness is ready to swallow his legs. Then the belly, the chest, the vision of tearing his head open and causing him to fall, echoing, echoing, echoing forever after the end...
Perhaps the Emperor's plan was not perfect, perhaps the Master of Mankind It only touched the level of opening the cage. Humanity's exploration of the subspace is still limited, and until the last moment to face fear, the Emperor may not be able to accurately perceive that even if the Dark King has not yet been born, and has not heard the first cry that tears apart the galaxy, it is enough to destroy the entire Tianchuan Galaxy.
So, does it end here? Magnus saw the future, and the future didn't exist. The Emperor's gamble brought the chess game between humanity and Chaos to a situation where life and death were determined by one move. Once the move was wrong, the entire human race would be doomed.
Unless - the end and death have another destination, a destination that is not the entity of the Dark Lord... And who in the galaxy has the equivalent essence?
Still the Emperor. The Emperor is the heart of the human race, and nothing else. And the Emperor is indeed the enemy of the Dark King. Whether it is two sides of one body, the gestator and the conceived, the benefactor and the entrusted, in any relationship, the Emperor can cut off the half of the Dark King from each other. Leave.
Magnus staggered up to a slightly higher level of meditation environment, leaving the uncontrollable falling feeling of his body a little further away.
The new problem came like this, and all time accelerated around the Dark Throne of Terra. He, an ordinary Primarch, a demigod who was no more than a grain of sand compared to the New God of the Universe, How to compete with this? Where is the other end of time?
Millions of places lit up like stars in his consciousness, and their weak firelight quickly extinguished one by one, representing the elimination of a method. No... He has known all these places, no, he has verified the environmental conditions of all the special places in the universe that he knows, and there is no place that can become a fortress against the New Gods.
He was doomed, Magnus thought. This idea was destroyed due to his limited ability. The hollow tide covered his mouth and nose.
No—
Magnus struggled to beat the desperate water pressing against his body, the only Primarch to face the truth of what was happening. No, no, no...
Where else is it worth a chip? Where else is it worth betting? Where else could he have imagined something but never found the time to explore? A stagnant crossroads of time, another endpoint born before the beginning of the world. Because of the failure of time sequence, it is enough to become a special place to confront the end of time?
It would be better to be located in the Webway, so that he could from now on calculate the changes to Thutmons, assisting in the direction of the end and the power of death towards that end. It had better be ancient and mysterious enough, and become a powerful enough celestial aid when manpower is limited. It's best to be indestructible, and it's best to be a unique, almost natural singularity in the universe, an incredible and mysterious place.
Wigberach.
The crossroads where time ceases to flow, the end point where glorious paths intersect.
Magnus continued to float in the ocean of consciousness. He became light and tiny, like a fallen leaf or a quietly broken hair. Unhindered by physical pain, he reached the state of mind. the upper level.
In Wigberach, time exists inertly, even against the current. It is the unexplored end of fantasy, like the singular point that the hand of creation has not yet reached out to touch. All things are ten thousand under the Throne of Darkness, and they may be one under Vigberach.
And...
A new possibility emerged in Magnus' mind. Since Vigberach is originally located in the Webway, could it be the end point for souls in the Webway? In other words...
After the Primarchs lose their bodies and essence, can their souls gather in Vigberach?
Magnus's spirit gradually lifted up amid the haggardness, like the last burst of bright flame before a candle burned out. In front of his eyes, that ray of emperor's brilliance reappeared, which meant that he was almost no longer restrained by his body and began to perceive the world from a pure spiritual perspective.
The Thirteenth Node of Thutmons requires only the physical body and warp essence of the Primarch. The spiritual intelligence of the Emperor's children is a superfluous element in the Emperor's creation, and is not needed to maintain the final seal. Extra ingredients.
These spiritual intelligences can also have a final destination...
And if the Emperor is reborn in Vigberach, at least the Emperor will definitely be able to continue them at this special end of time forever; even if these rootless and ethereal spiritual intelligences lose their support, they will be unable to leave the mysterious place... …
The answer is clear. Magnus thought that what he had to do next became easy. The unprecedented excitement almost became his disease at this moment, making his will burn with excitement.
Oh Emperor, he thought, Oh Emperor, he opened his legs, stepped on the darkness and silence, stretched out his hand to the heights, until the hot stars flowed into his burning palm against his melting palm. of blood vessels.
This is what he's going to do - is he right? Is there anything else he hasn't considered?
No, there is no chance anymore. Even if he thinks about it in the dark for a thousand years, he will only come up with the same answer.
Emperor, will you forgive me? For my mistake in killing Omegon? For the crime I'm about to commit?
The light shone on him.
The runes of the Webway Formation burned his fingers, and his consciousness expanded to infinite dimensions, touching every line in the darkness like a blind man.
He interpreted them, quickly and firmly rewriting the lines that had to be modified for the new bet. His invisible eyes were sore and swollen, and his fingers hurt terribly. He was trembling, standing alone in the darkness. , feeling that everything that makes up oneself is dissipated in the output of energy.
There is no puppet string that can control him and any clockwork that can assist him. He made this crazy decision and he will not hesitate anymore because time is almost over. If all this Destruction is in his hands, then the world is a felony that he cannot bear, but his decision must be implemented otherwise this will be the end of everything. If he does this, then regardless of success or failure, he is destroying everything he once created with his own hands, because His tampering with the Tutmons Barrier will inevitably undergo fundamental changes, and no one can give him a word of guidance. He is setting out to destroy his achievements just to gamble on a new ending, and he is about to become the biggest crime of the entire human race. It’s...
The light became increasingly subtle.
He did not have the support of the Emperor because he could not hear the Emperor's voice and all he could believe in was the existence of this beam of light. Countless runes were burned down and then reborn in his hands. He completed this alone without any sense. Will he really be able to succeed in his career? Will he die before completing it all, leaving only a half-finished and damaged realm, when all the remaining people have enough power to accuse him of destruction? The sinner of the entire glorious dream, and he must confess his guilt and escape, his name will die forever...
How many runes has he rewritten? One hundred. One million. One hundred million. The rune barrier trembled on the verge of collapse several times, but in the end it was fixed in a new form - the core was no longer the Throne of Terra, but pointed directly at the crossroads Vigberach, just waiting for that intersection to be blocked by a sufficient A powerful beacon lights up.
Time starts to branch off and flow again from the crossroads, intersecting in confusion.
The Emperor's light is always there, although it is weak, although it is almost invisible...
One step left. Magnus thought. Then he raised his arms, Emperor, he thought quietly, Emperor.
He stretched out his hand upwards and grasped further. One layer of the dome was broken through, and a blockade somewhere in the distance was shattered. Thousands of golden dust scattered around him. The first The lock was broken, and Thutmons trembled.
I don’t know when he was no longer afraid. The fear in his heart disappeared in the pure work. He was still panting, but his mind was clear and stable, as if he had received some kind of light. Promotion has been infused with a new and infinite vitality. His heart is so peaceful.
Perhaps he has returned to the Holy Father. Maybe he has died.
He broke the second blockade, and he had no way of observing whether the golden light in the darkness was getting closer.
The Webway trembled under his destruction, telling him with crystal clear clarity that he was destroying everything he had created.
He is destroying the Web Channel. If the plan fails, the power imbalance in the Web Channel will lead to the destruction of the entire network system. The glory he gained from the construction of the webway was abandoned by himself.
I should take a break, he thought. I don't have much strength left. My bones and blood filled Thutmons' destruction.
Then he broke the next level of lock because there was no time.
By the time later, the last few layers of locks were as brittle as bones. Magnus soberly killed Thutmons's last remaining vitality, and there was no way out.
Perhaps outside of this darkness, the turmoil caused by the half-destruction of the Webway Circle has long been unparalleled. Perhaps the entire galaxy knows that someone is cruelly destroying mankind's last hope hidden in the box.
But here, the world is still so quiet, and the slightest sound can completely explode and tear apart this dying moment.
Magnus wanted nothing, he just reached up.
His fingers were touched.
The ray of light wrapped around his fingers, and then fell into his arms, like a light feather, held in his arms.
Some noble idea flowed from it, illuminating Magnus's intellect.
He vaguely felt that the sound originated from this invisible group of light. It was the sound of dawn that transcended language. It was the sun at noon and the holiest fire of love. It was also confused and trapped, and it was harsh and lonely. The night after dusk, the stone of right and wrong and the drooping night, is a body that needs sleep and a mind that needs to rest in the dark night.
He cried out, was distressed, cried, wept, discerned, eager, indignant, and condemned. He has struggled with darkness for a long time.
He once revealed the light to all nations, but now only this remaining ray of unawakened spirit is left, painfully alone.
He is in his arms and puts his last soul in his hands.
Magnus felt at a loss. Under such a tight deadline, he shouldn't have this unnecessary sentimentality. He raised his head, opened his eyes, and thought, let's go, Magnus, let's go to Vigberach, to the place where the sun can be reborn as a star.
The only light was already in his arms, and there was no light anywhere he could see. To find his way to Vigberach, he needed a path of light.
Magnus imagined a carving knife, thin enough and sharp enough.
Then, he continued to hold the beam of light with his left hand, reached into the void with his right hand, took out the engraving needle, opened his right eye, trembled slightly, and then meticulously carved the direction steadily on the surface of his eyeball. Runes of Vigberach.
After the work was completed, he took out the eyeball that had been transformed into invisible candlelight from its socket and held it in the palm of his hand. A faint guiding path once again emerged in the darkness in front of him. This is the price that must be paid to leave the Dark Throne.
He began to move in the direction indicated by his eyeballs, and the Emperor's last remaining hold on the Dark Lord finally gave way.
The darkness behind him finally reacted, surging and chasing his back. The silence formed suffocating scythes and tendrils, hooking through his body, pulling him backwards over and over again, but he didn't dare Go directly inside Tutmons.
Magnus stumbled, like a stumbling rolling stone, and ran with difficulty holding the beam of light.
How far is the darkness from him? Is he about to be overtaken?
Magnus swayed and stepped forward, moving forward in the convulsing dark world. Sometimes he felt like a small boat that was about to be overturned by the wind and waves. Sometimes he felt like he was suddenly thrown from a high place. It fell a thousand meters and was smashed on the boulder below. He got up, roaring in pain, and ran without stopping, while protecting the light in his arms.
What is he doing, Magnus? It sounds like an escape in fear of crime... He just tampered with the energy flow of Thutmons, he even blew up all the blockades, and now he is leading the Emperor to run for his life in the dark like a fool, or like a Some weird and embarrassing insect, twitching and jumping around.
Maybe he has died a long time ago. The current world is all an infinitely extended fantasy in the moment before his death. In fact, he has nothing long ago. After he personally destroyed the dream he spent all his efforts on, After Tutmons, he was completely dead... or was that right? Maybe so.
But he doesn't want this, he also hates destruction, doesn't like darkness, hates hopeless gambling, hopes that he can always live surrounded by people, hopes that he can eat Prospero under the shining sun dessert, spinning the emerald quill in his hand...
Two hundred years ago, he lived a carefree life like this. The only worry was the topic of tomorrow's research. He grew up freely under the protection of the sages of Tizka. He spread his wings and flew with the emperor at night in the ocean of fantasy, soaked in the stacks of books with the scent of paper, and listened to the voice of his heart and lived his happy and pure life. Life. He felt like that was all he needed.
Sometimes he also knows that a person always has to grow up, and as he grows up, responsibility will fall on his shoulders as a deferred reward for the happiness in childhood life that he had claimed in advance, but he I don’t want to bear the pain alone, nor do I want to face the expectant looks of others, because they are too hot and hurtful. During the day, he enjoyed everyone's admiration. At night, he worried that he would be disappointed in the hope of the people he cared about. Occasionally, he would lie under the stars and look at the stars in Tizca, and he would also worry about whether he was not good enough and whether his avoidance and avoidance were the right things. Not worthy of the admiration of others. He hoped that he could live alone in a pure white tower, with the sky above his head and no one else watching around him.
Soon Prospero was turned upside down. So many of his teachers and his friends died, and he still misses the joy when they grabbed the same book and rushed to be the first to read it. Laughter. Missing the cookies Amon brought him from the market that he missed. I miss the gleaming shell of the Great Library and the warm sun in the sky.
But all this happened two hundred years ago.
In this way, he kept running in the darkness. His eyeballs had taken him through many curved branches, some folded in half up and down, and some horizontal and vertical lines of convergence were difficult to distinguish, and he was already extremely tired. He was too tired, and his strength had long been insufficient to support his consumption.
His heart was contracting extremely fast and the world was spinning. Is he really still running forward? Has his pace stalled?
Were all his efforts in the solitude of pure darkness nothing more than his delusions and fantasies?
For a moment, he felt as if he was back in Prospero, lightly crossing the puddles on the ground after rain, wandering around in the clear sun...
Oh, those The faces of the people he almost bumped into carelessly flashed past him one by one, forming fragments of his life... How much he loved his life, how much he loved the world he once had, and Not this dead darkness that brought him endless pain and repeated despair.
His body is still falling far away, sinking continuously, burying him in the suffocating cemetery...
Tell me, no matter who it is, tell me, I Are you doing the right thing?
I don’t know when, the surrounding environment seemed to have changed, and complex perceptions emerged vaguely in the darkness, colorful and full of malice, swirling and surging eagerly... The thick fog whizzed around, filling and surging, more than ever. All were raging, clawing furiously at the outer walls of the Webway - and Magnus had already fortified everything he could while reshaping Thutmons. He hoped it would actually come in handy.
For a moment, the terrifying pure darkness grabbed his neck. He was indirectly knocked to the ground by some vicious force, and was pinned into the thick fog that filled the Webway. The eyeballs were thrown out of the hand.
The Emperor's light in his arms flickered for a moment, and Magnus murmured worriedly: "It's okay, father, don't worry..."
He groped blindly with one hand. As he stood, his trembling arms carefully swept every inch of the rough road around him until his little finger touched the ball protected by the runes. The lights came on again.
He struggled to stand up, trying three or four times. His whole body was twitching uncontrollably. He was shaking too hard, and his breath was filled with a dark and cold smell, and he The power was like passing water vapor, tremblingly drifting away from his willpower.
"Don't worry about those things, father," he said, "I will take you out of here..."
He seemed to see the emperor's back, the slightly swaying robes, those candles, those waiting for him Looking up at the stars...
He listened carefully, and seemed to still be able to hear the Emperor's steady footsteps, ringing beside him, and the subspace waves that were dispersed when he raised his hand. He followed suit, looking at every flickering color around him - now there was only one candle left, burning in the palm of his own hand.
Magnus inhaled hard and stood up on the ground. Did the light in his arms tap lightly on the inside of his arm?
His cheeks were moist.
After leaving Prospero, he assumed the responsibility of a leader. He led his warriors and scholars to fight for mankind. Just like now, he squeezed out some remaining strength, opened a thin shield, and used To withstand the waves brought by Chaos crashing into the webway.
Sometimes he is at the front of the battle formation, and sometimes he is sitting on a high-altitude ship. When thousands or even tens of thousands of psychics unite as one, pouring dangerous power beyond reality into the same battle, he is the final master and guide who holds up the protective shield with them. He repeated the duties he had performed in a war involving millions of soldiers, only now he was fighting alone.
Nearly two hundred years ago he was no longer a child, a teenager. He came of age and became a leader. Most of the time, he was respected, even feared. Especially when accepting the annual research results, even Ahriman avoided him. He waved his weapon, guided the direction, looked into the distance in the vast galaxy, took the stars into his bag, and then presented them to the glory of the empire.
Countless decisions passed through his hands, and countless orders were signed by the Crimson King himself at the bottom of the parchment. He is sanctified by some planets as the supreme monarch and demigod. He is regarded by some places as a ruthless overlord who plays with magic. Some mortals call him a killer under the divine light.
He readily accepted these ominous titles and accusations, even if he occasionally felt dissatisfied and felt aggrieved. He never neglected his duty, and he dared to swear by Prospero.
He is a beacon to others, and his presence is a signpost for his warriors to discern their way. Tens of thousands of Dust Suns, as well as countless auxiliaries and crews... They shine brightly...
"It will happen, father," Magnus whispered, his voice like a silent burst of The final airflow was full of strange panic and unconcealable confusion, "We will succeed, everything will be fine."
He moved forward awkwardly in the darkness, one step at a time, embracing everyone. The light's hand was too cold to be felt, like a mist hanging on his shoulders. A sob rose in his throat combined with his heartbeat. The road ahead was in tatters, and at times the bitter air slapped him against the wall, cracking him like a torn canvas.
Even without true access to the Webway, the power of Chaos was still enough to destroy a Primarch that had burned almost everything.
For the calculation of the plan, for murdering his brothers, for destroying the Webway, for holding the Emperor's hand, his blood was drained. He was turned into a jagged piece of wood, split with a giant axe, thrown into water and baked in the fire.
He is too tired. He is too tired. His strength has been exhausted.
Then Magnus trotted, trotting in some lifeless form. He heard small cracking sounds continuing to come from his body. The power of the Dark Gods and the Fifth God was Confrontation near him. He could feel the powerful force of destruction hitting his body hard, passing through his skin and into his blood vessels and bone marrow.
He suddenly remembered the Tower of Astartes opposite the Star Observation Tower. For no reason, the illusion of white marble swayed in front of his eyes. Very bright, white and shining, shaking with light.
"That's it," Magnus muttered, "Father, I swore to you there. Gee, I'm not scared at all. I do feel a little tired, or something. I I did run a little slower, after all, I am not the best at sports..."
His footsteps echoed in the webway, no, it was still dark and silent here. The sound of his footsteps echoed in his own heart. One voice after another.
"It's almost there, it must be almost there." He said softly, and the light in his arms flickered quietly, becoming increasingly dimmer. "Hurry up, Magnus..."
Unknowingly, Time seemed to slow down around him, twisting horizontally.
The energy of the time-stagnant crossroads condensed and pushed back other forces. At this time, Magnus realized that what Vigberach was resisting now was himself - until the Emperor Only when the spirit of Vigberach is stagnant can all the glorious paths be illuminated, and the power of death can reach the beginning of time along the path of enlightenment under the leadership of the Emperor.
The resistance is still increasing, and the indomitable and ruthless power has its end...
Magnus fell, his arm hit the ground, and he hit his head hard , the pain rolled through his spirit and floated away from the leaky remains. The body built by his will is dissipating, and the impact of pain is still spreading, starting from his calves and shoulders, gradually evaporating his will form. Blood and tears covered his face, forming a cold mask of despair.
He failed.
He could never get up again, his last bit of strength burned away when he realized the situation at the crossroads. The eyeball landed near his cheek, and its flickering light went out. His dim consciousness cried in despair. He was close enough, but the final obstacle was one he had no chance of breaking through. His hope exploded painfully in his chest, creating a huge, unparalleled cavity.
He failed.
With some futile ferocity he trembled and cursed Chaos, cursed Lorgar Aurelion, cursed the Illuminati, cursed them to fall into greater failure, cursed them to come to an end. Then he began to blame himself, his own failures and shortcomings, and regretted the many things he had not done well in his life... There were so many hidden opportunities, and he missed so many details...
He failed miserably.
His death struggle was worthless, his lonely progress in the darkness was nothing more than a joke. No one knows where Magnus disappeared to, but with Thutmons destroyed, power imbalances will accumulate, the Webway Project will collapse, and the Crimson King will carry his sins with him until the end of time.
His body and soul were burned away, the Emperor's light falling near his last vestiges of consciousness, slowly dissipating as the Dark Lord's power drew ever closer.
The Dark Lord cannot gain any power from Magnus's remains, because everything he has is dedicated to the Webway and Vygberach, but the arrival of the Fifth God has left no one Blockable.
From the first cry of the Lord of Darkness, mankind will be annihilated in the depths of eternal chaos and evil. All reality will no longer make sense, and all the past will come to an end. Chaos will sweep over the world. There is no longer a Milky Way, only the inanimate Temple of Ten Thousand Demons.
No matter who it is, don’t forgive me.
The dark tide was rolling around him, and its power was so close. This huge power that was once restricted by the Emperor has now seized the Emperor's cold power, and is about to avenge this abominable man a thousand times. Cruel world.
It’s over. He has already heard the echoes of destruction, rolling rumblingly on the dark backside of the world, tearing and rubbing the surface of reality, twisting it into a fragile paper ball worth mentioning, and then turning into crumbs, falling endlessly into the abyss.
This was once the power of the Emperor...
No. There is another chance.
There is one more chance... Yes, yes, Magnus, stand up, don't give up, think about it... Since it was the power of the Emperor, then, perhaps, it is worth a try , the last time. Magnus, for the last time.
He stood up.
He is no longer an entity existing in the world, but has become an independent perspective, an empty eye.
He looked down at the last ray of light that was still on the ground, and then he floated up, letting himself fall backwards into the endless darkness.
His vision transcended reality, floating on a torrent of pure energy, calmly moving deeper and deeper through the endless horrors of darkness.
The world flew past him, and he continued to fall, staring calmly at the sky, at the last glimmer of the Emperor's glory. He no longer is anything, he no longer has anything. A crimson trail trailed on the trajectory of his falling existence, like a hanging spider's thread.
Until he reaches the depth he desires.
The Cursed City of God.
In the depths of darkness, this realm that once belonged to the Emperor still exists, and the souls within it are bound by the directionless darkness and have nowhere to go.
And Magnus sensed their existence - stubbornly protected by a clear consciousness equal to the former primarch, jointly resisting the erosion of darkness.
They will rise.
He landed on the edge of the City of God, and crimson threads connected the dark and lonely city to the outside world.
Gradually, he saw some light rising upwards. Following the thread, he found a path to follow from the darkness and despair... Thousands of angels spread their wings, and the tide of light Flowing past him, no soul noticed the falling of an insignificant crimson stardust. So bright, so radiant...
They climbed upward until the point of light disappeared into the darkness he could see.
The darkness returned to the silence of death, the void once again covered everything, and the crimson thread gradually dissipated, disappearing without a trace.
Magnus waited calmly for the final verdict.
He watched as the light disappeared and continued to fall into the darkness. His ego had burned away long ago, but he still clung to existence, in some form that he couldn't even name. The last part of him continued to stare into the darkness, he would not live to witness that fateful moment, but he was still watching.
After an unknown amount of time, a flash of light suddenly lit up in the distance.
A star suddenly breaks through the darkness at the far end of the stasis of time, emitting a wonderful light.
...Lo and behold, the angel brought the Emperor to Vigberach. No matter what kind of fateful perception or instinctive induction, he won the bet...
The Emperor ascended to the crossroads of the Path of Radiance. The flow of all paths is gradually reversed, and the formation he changed is taking effect. From now on, the supply of death and end will return to the stars.
One day, one day, that star will become the sun of the human race again.
Oh, if only he could share his joy with anyone. If only he could have a few words with someone and ask them if they were doing their job.
He really wants to hear praise or encouragement from others. He wished someone could tell him that he had made amends for his mistakes. What a great job he did. Just like two hundred years ago...
The sunshine at that time was so warm, Prospero's pyramid in the distance was bathed in clear light, and there was no sign of destruction in all things, as if this tranquility would last forever Last forever.
(End of this chapter)