Chapter 731: Before It All Began

Chapter 731: Before It All Began

In the vast and mysterious depths of the ocean, a profound silence enveloped the entire area. This silence was so deep and complete that even the drifting particles among the floating islands seemed to freeze in time, leaving a stillness that nobody dared to disturb. The only sound came from a colossal entity resembling a mountain range looming over everything. With its body dotted with dim lights flickering like distant stars, this ancient deity exuded an aura of immense patience as it awaited a response.

This eerie quietude stretched on, feeling like an endless void, until Shirley’s voice pierced through, filled with awe: “Wow...”Yôur favorite stories on n/o/(v)e/lbin(.)com

With a composed demeanor, Duncan raised his head to address the gargantuan being: “I wish you could explain something. What exactly do you mean when you say about ‘taking over all this?”

From deep within the star-like mountainous god, a voice tinged with a human-like quality and a hint of sadness emerged, then spoke slowly: “Usurper of Fire, perhaps you already understand... During the event known as the ‘Third Long Night,’ I failed to execute all my plans as per the original design. The Boundless Sea is far from a perfect haven. My attempt at ‘World’s Creation’ ended in failure, just like the endeavors of the Pale Giant King and the Dream King. However, my failure was postponed by ten thousand years.”

Standing in the ocean’s deepest recesses, Duncan found the admission of failure from this ancient, world-creating deity profoundly impactful. Despite having numerous clues pointing to this truth, hearing it directly from the mouth of the Nether Lord caused him to sigh deeply.

After a moment of reflection, Duncan broke the silence: “Yes, I’m aware. There are many indications of this. I’ve seen the city-state reflections deep within the dimensional sea and the ‘unfinished creations’ in the ocean. I’ve also uncovered truths about the shadow demons. On the Holy Island, I discovered a hall where thousands of biological records are kept... All of this points to the fact that our current era in the deep sea is merely a facade of struggling civilizations, barely gasping for breath in a post-apocalyptic world. As a ‘sanctuary,’ it’s riddled with imperfections.”

Alice, who had been listening, softly commented from the side: “Isn’t that a bit too harsh...?”

Shirley responded in a similarly hushed tone, “That’s actually putting it mildly.”

Their quiet exchange was suddenly interrupted by a rumbling from the dark, mountainous deity: “Yes, this sanctuary is flawed, and now these imperfections are reaching a breaking point... Usurper of Fire, how many times has the Observer Effect Stability Anchor failed now?”

Duncan’s face showed a slight change in expression: “...Twice.”

“The Anchor is crucial to maintain the stability and harmony of the various ’embers’ within the sanctuary. Its light enables the conflicting, untranslatable fragments of worlds left over from the Great Annihilation to merge into a single reality. Its failure indicates that the foundational flaws of the sanctuary have accumulated to a critical point. Once it goes out completely, the collection of ‘emberous clumps’ we’ve forcibly held together will begin to disintegrate.”

With a hint of skepticism in his voice, Duncan inquired slowly, “So, how is all of this connected to me assuming control over ‘everything’ here?” He glanced around, indicating the sprawling sanctuary. “The sanctuary is teetering on the edge of collapse. Are you implying that it will undergo a miraculous transformation if I take charge?”

“The answer, based on my careful calculations, is a yes,” came the reply.

“Our existence since then has been a tapestry of randomness and distortion. The collision fundamentally altered our essence. Time was in disarray, space contorted, fragmented. We emerged from the fiery chaos of total destruction. Our initial interactions with one another were almost as catastrophic as the collision itself. Many perished from contamination during these ‘first contacts.’ Those who lacked the strength or fortune quickly turned to dust, leaving behind only a handful of us, including some names you might recognize.”

The Nether Lord continued, “From the beginning, you were present, dormant within a mysterious ‘cocoon’. You remained asleep, formless. To us, you appeared as a nebulous cluster of light, isolated from the world, impervious to external influence. You remained undisturbed through endless nights, numerous gatherings, and world-shifting events.”

“Had you not recently shown signs of activity, I might have believed you would sleep indefinitely, maintaining your shapeless luminescence until this world, reborn from ruins, faced its end again.”

“Our ‘observation’ of you has been marked by your unresponsiveness... Ta Ruijin was the first to give you a name, calling you ‘Fire Usurper,’ yet he never revealed the reason for this name. Navigator Two seemed to grasp something of your power or ‘attribute.’ The Pale Giant King observed you amidst the ashes for seventy-seven cycles, leaving behind a solitary remark – he anticipated meeting you again. After that, he remained silent until his demise on the first long night.”

The ancient god’s voice resonated solemnly through the depths of the sea, accompanied by the ancient, dim starlight from above, casting a mysterious, chilling atmosphere.

“Fire Usurper, we still cannot fathom your true nature, but throughout the long years preceding your awakening, we have been observing your dormant ‘cocoon.’ Those shapeless glows you emitted revealed different truths and futures to each observer. Now, being the first to directly engage with you is my privilege.”

Duncan remained silent for an extended period.

He needed a moment to gather his thoughts, which were swirling chaotically. The notion of being perceived as an unfathomable “cocoon by the “Ancient Kings” was overwhelming. How had he always been seen through their eyes?

Duncan grappled with this new information as a peculiar sensation settled in his heart. The realization that these “Ancient Kings,” survivors of cataclysmic destruction, had been observing him throughout time, extracting profound “revelations” from their prolonged surveillance, was both unsettling and intriguing.

After a period of contemplation marked by a furrowed brow, Duncan finally broke the silence. “And you? What ‘insight’ have you derived from your extended observation? Does it relate to your desire for me to assume control over this ‘sanctuary’ you’ve established?”

In response to his query, the landscape transformed dramatically. The vast and imposing star-shaped mountain range, bathed in dim starlight, momentarily plunged into darkness. Then, as if responding to an unseen command, every light on the range blazed to life. Streams of dark blue light intensified, pulsating with energy. A deep, resonant rumble emerged from the mountain’s core, capturing the awe of Shirley and the others. The central “peak” of the range began to part slowly, revealing a pulsating dark red core that rose from its depths. This core, resembling a giant, solitary eye, gazed calmly but intensely at Duncan.

“No,” the core responded, its voice carrying a harsh, cold mechanical timbre. “The revelation I have received is far different. It suggests that you are destined to set the entire world ablaze – a ‘cremation’ of sorts. In this unprecedented event, all timelines, all historical currents, and the lingering lights of every remaining civilization worldwide will converge and be consumed.”