The night was as dark as ink. In the back alley of the town library, the warmth of Lin Yi's fingertips seemed to still linger on the old touch of that handwritten quotations.

The paper was yellowed, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.

Every word that was recorded was like an invisible thread drawn from him, weaving into a giant net that bound him tightly.

The sound of the wind gathered in Chu Yao's ears into a clear and solemn whisper, carrying a metallic chill: "This is not an individual act. The frequency of copying this book, its dissemination path, and its emotional resonance curve all precisely match the typical characteristics of the 'Cognitive Reshaping Project.' Someone is using your language to weave a new 'you,' a 'you' that they need."

"God." A cold smile curved Lin Yi's lips as he gently tucked the thin booklet into his pocket, as if he were planting a bomb about to explode.

He looked up at the dimly lit area in the distance of the town, his voice devoid of any emotion: "It's not the cleaners, it's people—people who have been kneeling for too long and are afraid that they will have no gods to worship."

Chu Yao's voice paused for a moment, then delivered more specific information: "The data stream points to the 'Ordinary Heroes Memorial Hall' on the west side of the town. On the surface, it commemorates the righteous deeds of ordinary people in various eras, but the energy fluctuations underground are unusually active and highly resonate with the fragments of memories that have escaped from your body."

Ordinary Heroes Memorial Hall.

Lin Yi—what a wonderful name, what a perfect disguise.

Countless tiny but real radiances are used to cover up a deliberately constructed, enormous, false god.

This method is far more sophisticated than simple violence and brainwashing.

Night is the best cover.

Lin Yi's figure blended into the darkness like a ghost, without alerting anyone.

The memorial hall looks solemn and simple. The stone tablet at the entrance is engraved with unfamiliar names. They were all remembered for their acts of bravery and selflessness.

The museum was dimly lit and displayed old medals, faded banners, and pictorial descriptions of heroic deeds. The air was thick with dust and the smell of time.

Everything seemed so normal, so unsettlingly normal.

Lin Yi didn't waste a single second on these appearances.

His perception was like the most sophisticated radar, penetrating the thick concrete floor and reaching the source of that restless energy.

In an inconspicuous storage room behind the memorial hall, he found a secret door leading underground.

The moment the door was pushed open, a nauseatingly strong odor, a mixture of expensive spices and fanatical faith, rushed out.

The basement was much larger than I had imagined.

There are no windows here, only hundreds of thick candles burning quietly, their flickering light casting an intermittent glow on the walls.

The walls were covered with portraits of Lin Yi.

There are his profiles during battles, his backs as he gives speeches, and candid shots of him resting against a wall when he is tired... Each photo has been carefully selected and edited to portray him as a lonely, powerful, compassionate, and invincible symbol.

In the very center of the altar, a humanoid puppet, identical in shape to him, stood silently. It was made of some unknown metal and biomimetic material, and the texture of its skin and the direction of its hair were exactly the same as Lin Yi's.

Countless golden threads, invisible to the naked eye, converged from all directions and entered the puppet's chest. These were "fragments of Lin Yi's memories" collected from the hearts of believers from all over the world, representing their worship, imagination, and expectations.

An elderly man with a hunched back was kneeling before the altar. He was wearing a simple teacher's uniform, his face was covered with wrinkles, but his eyes were frighteningly fanatical.

He was the town's most respected old teacher, but now he was like the most devout believer, murmuring to the puppet, his voice trembling with excitement: "Please come back, the world still needs you... needs your guidance, your strength, your very existence is our only faith against despair!"

Lin Yi stood quietly in the shadows, feeling no anger, only a deep sorrow.

He realized that the puppet was not just an idol; it was a container, a receiver.

When the collected fragments of faith and memory reach a certain threshold, this soulless shell may "awaken" under the collective will of countless believers and become a perfect "Lin Yi God" walking in the world.

A god who only says what they want to hear, only does what they expect, is always right, and is always powerful.

Destroy the altar? Kill the old teacher?

No.

Lin Yi coldly thought that it would only make them more convinced that their god had fallen due to persecution by "evil spirits," thus giving rise to an even more fanatical faith.

The best way to destroy a statue is not to smash it with a hammer, but to let it fall from its pedestal and be humiliated in public.

He approached silently, a faint but pure spiritual energy gathering at his fingertips.

The old teacher was completely absorbed in his prayer, oblivious to the darkness behind him.

Lin Yi gently touched the puppet's back, where the energy core was located.

A fabricated memory, or rather, a real memory that he deliberately buried, was precisely implanted into the deepest layer of the core program.

That was a long time ago, on the eve of a momentous decision that would determine the future of the world, when he faced an abyss-like future alone.

Fear gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake, and for the first time he felt his own insignificance and powerlessness.

He even considered giving up, thinking of taking Chu Yao and the people around him to some unknown corner to eke out a living.

In the dead of night, he spoke to Chu Yao on the other end of the communicator in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, uttering a phrase that even he found shameful.

This memory has never been shown to a third person; it is the softest and most unbearable scar in Lin Yi's heart.

Now, he tore it open himself and gave it to the imposter who was about to become a god.

He wanted to make this "imperfect" version of himself the first consciousness of this "perfect god" after he awakened.

Having done all this, he retreated into the darkness as he had come, disappearing without a trace.

The three-day wait was an agonizing anticipation for the believers in the small town.

For Lin Yi, it was the calm before the storm.

On the afternoon of the third day, the underground altar of the Ordinary Heroes Memorial Hall was crowded with core believers who had come after hearing the news.

They surrounded the altar, their eyes filled with fervent anticipation.

The retired teacher stood at the very front, presiding over the ceremony to welcome the "god" back.

Just as the ceremony reached its climax and everyone held their breath, the puppet in the center of the altar, which had remained motionless, suddenly twitched its fingers slightly.

A suppressed gasp erupted from the crowd.

Immediately afterwards, a faint light slowly shone from the puppet's empty eyes, as if a soul that had been asleep for ten thousand years was awakening.

Its head turned stiffly, its gaze sweeping over everyone present.

"God... God has awakened!" Someone was so excited that tears welled up in their eyes, and they knelt down on the spot.

The old teacher was overcome with emotion, tears streaming down his face. He reached out his trembling hand, as if trying to touch his deity, his voice choked with sobs: "You...you've finally returned!"

The puppet's lips parted, and the sound it emitted had a metallic quality, yet it was also mixed with an indescribable sense of human confusion and trembling.

Its first words were clearly heard in every corner of the basement.

"...I'm actually afraid of death, so afraid that I want to run away."

The entire basement fell silent instantly.

Everyone's expressions froze; the fervor and excitement turned into astonishment and absurdity.

Time seemed to stand still at that moment.

A few seconds later, an uproar erupted like a flood!

"What?"

"What is it saying? Is this the language of God?"

"Impossible! How could Lord Lin Yi be afraid of death!"

The old teacher's face instantly turned bright red; he was struck dumb and couldn't believe his ears.

He rushed forward, pointing at the puppet and shouting, "What nonsense are you spouting! This is blasphemy! Who are you? You are not him!"

The puppet's gaze calmly fell on the old teacher, and a hint of pity seemed to have appeared in those eyes that had just lit up.

It spoke again, its voice much smoother than before: "If I had never known fear, how could I understand your trembling in the face of despair?"

These words struck like a heavy hammer, hitting everyone's heart hard.

Before anyone could react, the puppet continued speaking.

Its voice is not loud, but it has the power to penetrate people's hearts.

It begins to tell the story of Lin Yi's hesitation before a crucial battle; how a wrong judgment led to the failure of the plan, almost wiping out the entire team; his guilt towards Chu Yao, because his choice burdened her with too much; and his debt to Long Wu, a debt buried deep in his heart, never spoken aloud...

It's all true.

Every detail, every psychological activity, is so real it sends chills down your spine.

But these are all "stains" that have never been celebrated or even deliberately erased from the hero's halo.

The fervor on the believers' faces gradually faded, replaced by confusion, doubt, and pain.

Their proud belief, that flawless and invincible spiritual pillar, is crumbling and shattering little by little.

A young man asked in a trembling voice, "The one we...we worship, is it a person, or a god we've pieced together ourselves?"

This problem spread among the population like a plague.

Amidst the cacophony of debate, doubt, and weeping, the once unbreakable faith began to crack for the first time.

On a distant high-rise building, Lin Yi stood against the wind, taking in the commotion at the memorial hall below.

He showed no pleasure whatsoever; his eyes were as calm as a deep pool of water.

He spoke softly to the wind, as if explaining to Chu Yao, or perhaps declaring to himself:

"Let 'me' become ridiculous, pathetic, hateful... just don't let me become their answer again."

Just then, Chu Yao's warning suddenly rang out, filled with unprecedented urgency and gravity: "Lin Yi! The situation has changed! The final pulse of the seventh node has begun—it is attempting to resonate with that puppet! Its target is not you, but that 'questioned god'! It wants to use this body infused with 'humanity' to complete a perfect reverse parasitism!"

Lin Yi's pupils suddenly contracted.

Almost simultaneously, in the underground altar of the memorial, the puppet that was being argued about by believers suddenly fell silent.

Under the horrified gazes of everyone, it slowly raised its hands.

Amidst a series of teeth-grinding mechanical noises, it grabbed its own head and jerked it upwards!

"Snap—"

The head was completely removed.

What was revealed was not a complex circuit and mechanical structure, but a crystal core the size of a human head, completely translucent, and engraved with billions of mysterious runes.

The crystal core was emitting a soft and holy light, illuminating the entire basement as bright as day.

Everyone was speechless with astonishment at this bizarre yet sacred scene.

Immediately afterwards, a clear, steady voice, devoid of any mechanical quality yet exuding unparalleled authority, resounded directly from the glowing crystal core, echoing deep within everyone's soul:

"The real Lin Yi... would never teach you to believe him."

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire basement fell into an unprecedented silence.

The old teacher's legs gave way, and he collapsed to his knees, the last glimmer of light in his eyes extinguished.

The crowd stood frozen in shock, staring at the headless body and the floating, glittering crystal core, their minds blank.

God is dead. God has proclaimed his truth in another way.

The vacuum of faith brings a fear and confusion that is more terrifying than fanaticism.

Where will this world go after losing "God" as the answer?