Chapter 69

The sky roared, as if the entire plain of reality was trembling for that moment.

The moment the light and darkness within Seed 237 completely intertwined, the boundaries between heaven and earth disappeared. Dazzling white light and pitch-black shadows bloomed simultaneously, like two raging torrents, colliding and tearing at each other.

The earth was torn apart, crisscrossed with ravines, and crimson magma surged forth, intertwining with the cold black mist, transforming into a boiling chaos. The ruins of the light domain collapsed in an instant, stones were suspended in the air, and then shattered into dust.

All the creatures that approached roared—some were completely purified in the blazing white light, leaving not even ashes; others transformed into aliens in the shadows, howling as they pounced on any life that had not yet been swallowed.

Sprout 12 was thrown into the air and crashed heavily into the shattered rock. Blood stained the corners of his lips, but he still struggled to keep his eyes open and look towards the center of the storm.

There, Seed 237 hovered in mid-air, its body twisted, light and shadow clashing like two colossal beasts within its body. Its breathing was intermittent, its eyes sometimes clear, sometimes empty. The light spot on its forehead flickered, like a flame that might be extinguished at any moment.

The aftershocks of the eruption spread for hundreds of miles, and narrow cracks appeared in the sky above the plains, revealing an indescribable void. The vanguard forces of the three factions were instantly engulfed, their afterimages dissipating in the interplay of light and darkness, as if erased from existence.

But this "purification" is not a victory.

More shadows seeped from the cracks, as if awakened by this out-of-control eruption. They responded with twisted whispers, their voices filled with madness and allure.

Sprout 12's heart clenched violently, and a hoarse shout escaped his throat:

"237! Stop! You'll destroy the entire plain!"

But 237 did not respond.

The raging tide of light and darkness is out of control, and he is falling step by step into an abyss of no return.

At this moment, everyone understood—

A full-blown outbreak signifies that the existing order has been torn apart.

On the other side of the rift, some much larger darkness was watching them.

Sprout 12 was thrown into the air and crashed heavily into the shattered rock. Blood trickled down his lips, and his chest felt like it was being crushed by a boulder, yet he still struggled to lift his head and gaze at the storm of light and darkness.

In mid-air, Seed 237's figure twisted, like a soul torn in two. Light and shadow gnawed at his body, turning into countless intersecting cracks that spread along his limbs and chest.

The spot of light on his forehead sometimes shone brightly and sometimes went out, like a lone lamp swallowed by a storm.

His eyes shifted between clear and dark, his voice deep and disordered, carrying two diametrically opposed wills:

"...Protect...Destruction..."

The aftershocks continued to spread, cracking the sky above the Plain of Reality, and whispers of nothingness echoed from the depths. The vanguard forces of the three factions instantly collapsed—some were annihilated by the light into dust, while others twisted into monsters in the shadows, struggling and howling.

But this is not the end.

More and more shadows began to writhe in the cracks, as if awakened by the eruption, dragging dark chains as they slowly crawled out from the other side.

Sprout 12's chest heaved violently. He tried to stand up, but was held back by the excruciating pain in his body.

His heart was pounding, and a broken cry escaped his throat:

"237! Can you hear me? You're going to destroy the entire plain—!"

There was no response from the eye of the storm, only a more frenzied clash between light and darkness.

In that instant, Sprout 12 realized—

This complete eruption is not only tearing 237 apart, but also tearing the entire world apart.

...slowly crawling out of the bank.

The storm's power finally waned amidst countless howls and roars.

The chaotic torrent of light and darkness gradually subsided, the roar that filled the world dissipated, leaving behind only a deathly silence.

The earth is no longer the earth.

The original plain was torn apart into a crisscrossing abyss, where scorching lava and icy dark mist intertwined, as if piecing together a strange hell. The remaining walls of the Light Domain collapsed completely, turning into floating debris, which then turned into dust in the silent shockwaves.

The sky remained cracked, the void hanging there, showing no sign of healing. Whispers from the depths still echoed, like the breath of some colossal being, pressing down on the souls of the survivors.

Sprout 12 struggled to get up, her eyes scanning her surroundings.

He saw his comrades' bodies dissipate in the light, saw creatures swallowed by the shadows turn into mangled remains, and saw the entire plain lose its color, leaving only gray and black.

And at the eye of the storm—

Seed 237 floated silently, its body covered in cracks, like a porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment. Its breath was almost gone, yet it still managed to maintain its form. The light on its forehead was so faint it was nearly extinguished, yet it still stubbornly flickered.

Sprout 12 felt a tightness in her throat and staggered forward.

At this moment, he understood more clearly than ever:

They have committed an irreparable crime.

This ruin is not only the end of the battlefield,

It is also the prelude to a new catastrophe.

...Traces. The whispers from the depths still echoed, like the breath of some colossal being, making the survivors' souls tremble.

Sprout 12 staggered toward the eye of the storm.

Every step he took felt like walking on the edge of an abyss, as if he could fall at any moment. Finally, he saw that almost shattered figure—Seed 237.

The body, riddled with cracks, seemed as if it would shatter at the slightest touch, and the light on its forehead flickered on and off. Just as Sprout 12 reached out, a chilling aura suddenly surged forth.

That wasn't the wind, nor the aftershocks, but rather—the whispers of a parasitic shadow.

It spread through the ruins, bypassing the collapsed light roots, and drilled straight into the crack in 237's chest cavity. A deep, seductive voice echoed:

"Give up..."

You have already tasted the power.

"Once you surrender yourself completely to me, you will transcend light and darkness and become the true ruler..."

Sprout 12 suddenly stopped, its branches and leaves trembling. He saw 237's fingers twitching slightly, as if responding to the call of the darkness.

"No! 237!"

Sprout 12 screamed, her voice hoarse, "Can you hear me? This is a trap! It's going to take you away!"

As if enraged by his shout, the Shadow Parasite condensed its black mist into long, thin tentacles and lunged at Sprout 12, attempting to drive him away.

Sprout 12 did not back down, but instead stepped forward and tightly grasped 237's broken hand.

"You're still here! You are not darkness!—Don't leave me alone!"

The tentacles exploded under the collision of light and will, and the black mist hissed, trying to penetrate deeper into 237's body.

At that moment, a spot of light flashed on my forehead, as if responding to the call of Sprout 12.

The darkness within the crack paused, as if it had been pushed back slightly.

Amidst the ruins, the tug-of-war between light and darkness begins anew.

This time, however, it's not a clash of worlds, but a life-or-death struggle between two souls.

The black mist dispersed, but the tentacles remained wrapped around Seed 237's body, dragging him little by little into the boundless shadows.

Sprout 12 gripped his hand tightly, blood and light mingling together, as if trying to nail them to the edge of the ruins.

suddenly--

The spot of light on his forehead flickered faintly.

Seed 237's eyes cleared briefly amidst the chaos; like a fish breaking through the waves of the deep sea, he struggled to utter a weak thought. It wasn't a voice, but a whisper that struck Sprout 12's very soul:

"...Sprout...are you still...?"

Tears instantly blurred Ya Dou's vision, and he almost choked up:

"I am here! I've always been here! Don't listen to it—you are not darkness!"

The black mist roared, desperately trying to sever this connection of the soul, but the light still flickered faintly.

The echo of 237's soul trembled as it came:

"I... I'm so cold... like I'm being torn apart... Neither light nor darkness will accept me... Am I... never meant to exist...?"

Sprout 12 trembled all over, his heart feeling as if it were being ripped open. He desperately tried to respond with his mind:

"No! You must exist! Without you, I would have died in the storm long ago! Without you, we wouldn't have made it this far! You are... my partner!"

The whispers of darkness echoed within 237:

"Don't struggle... He can't save you... Only I can stop your pain..."

237's soul trembled violently, writhing in agony, almost breaking apart. But in his final moments of clarity, he struggled to grasp the warmth emanating from Sprout 12:

“...If...it takes away...the sprout...you will...end me…”

Sprout 12 was suddenly jolted, and tears welled up in her eyes.

"No! I won't let go! I'd rather fall with you than destroy you with my own hands!"

In that instant, the light spot burned intensely, as if responding to the shout of Sprout 12.

The black mist emitted a sharp hiss and was forced to retreat half an inch.

Two souls embraced tightly in their death throes.

The tug-of-war between light and darkness has not ended, but at least for now—

Their hearts are still connected.