This aura was extremely faint, yet it carried an indescribable sense of purity and order. It didn't originate from Lin Mo's own galactic core, which was on the verge of collapse, but rather... a tiny, almost forgotten silver-white point of light!
It was the most original imprint of order that was forcibly preserved when Pei Du merged into the core of the starry sky. It was the uncontaminated first-generation fire seed, the "first flame"!
This mark, when Lin Mo's consciousness was about to be completely annihilated and all the marks belonging to "Lin Mo" were stripped to the bottom, was like the last spark buried deep under the ashes, and was forcibly stimulated by the desperate situation of death...!
A refreshing aura of order, like the gentlest thread, instantly entangled Lin Mo's disintegrating mental image! It wasn't powerful enough to withstand the turbulent flow of time and space, but it was like a stabilizing force, forcibly stabilizing the very essence of the mark's "existence"! The rapidly dispersing fragments of memory and stream of consciousness were caught in an invisible net, their disintegration suddenly slowing!
At the same time, this refreshing breath, as if carrying some strange "purifying" and "guiding" properties, began to very slowly, bit by bit... combing and repairing the most fatal cracks in the phantom! Like the most patient craftsman, using the finest chisel, repairing the glass on the verge of shattering.
The process was so slow that it felt like an eternity.
The chaotic currents of time and space continued to surge, washing over this tiny "island." Lin Mo's shadow, enveloped in a cool breeze, seemed to sink into the deepest slumber. The intense pain and chaotic storm of memories subsided, leaving only an ethereal, almost annihilating calm. Lin Mo's individual consciousness slumbered, but the imprint of order emanating from the "First Flame" protected this spark of light.
Time (if that concept still has meaning here) passes quietly.
I don’t know how long it took, maybe a moment, maybe eternity.
The most fatal cracks in the phantom were finally, with the meticulous repair of the aura of order, barely healed. While still covered in fine lines, like cracked porcelain, it was at least temporarily stable. No more scattered stardust, no more violent distortion.
Buzz...
The silver-white mark of order that was maintaining the repair seemed to have exhausted its last bit of strength. The light was completely introverted and fell silent, as if it had completed its final mission and disappeared deep into the core of the mark again.
In the chaotic and broken rifts of the other dimension, only the eternal roar of the turbulence of time and space remained.
However, against this backdrop of silence and chaos.
The stabilized dark golden spiritual imprint phantom trembled very slightly.
It was like an ancient beast that had been sleeping for billions of years, opening its heavy eyelids for the first time.
Lin Mo's consciousness, in the absolute nothingness and chaos, woke up with great difficulty...
The first thing to return wasn't sight or hearing. Rather, it was a vague sense of his own "existence," a feeling that transcended all senses. He felt like a wisp of wind, a cloud, a mass of energy ready to dissipate at any moment. A sharp sense of weakness and a dull ache of being torn apart and then forcibly pieced together washed over his newly gathered consciousness like a tide.
who I am?
Where am I?
what happened?
Chaotic fragments of memory, like the floating debris of a shipwreck, clashed chaotically in the ocean of consciousness. The explosion of Dawn Star... Shuangyao's blood-stained face... Chenxing's agonized cries... the cold beam of annihilation... the sleek helmet of the Purifier... Xu Shuangyao's final, empty gaze... Chenxing's huddled form, sealed in amethyst... and... the Observer Fleet's flagship, like the maw of the abyss...
Every fragment carries a pain that is like tearing the soul apart!
"Shuangyao... Chenxing..." A hoarse, almost unrecognizable thought, like the turning of a rusty gear, gathered with difficulty in the core of the shadow. Worry, fear, and boundless anger, like volcanic magma about to erupt, swirled in his weakened mind! What happened to them?! Where was Chenxing taken?! Shuangyao... her last empty look...
The strong emotional fluctuations caused the spiritual shadow that had just stabilized to flicker violently again, and the cracks on the edge seemed to be expanding again!
"Calm down...must...calm down..." Lin Mo's remaining sanity screamed frantically. He knew that any intense emotion at this moment could cause the mark, which had finally stabilized, to collapse again. He forced himself to suppress the heartbreaking images and emotions, like using a huge rock to block the crater of a volcano about to erupt.
He struggled to "extend" his perception (if it could still be called perception) outward.
There was no light, no sound. Only a grotesque, distorted chaos beyond words. The fractured space, like the fossilized branches of a towering tree, twisted and stretched towards nothingness. The riot of colorful spacetime, like viscous, unruly paint, flowed, collided, and vanished freely across the shattered canvas. The fragments of time, like shattered mirrors, reflected fleeting, incomprehensible, blurry images of past and future. The laws of physics were a mockery here; space was a shattered kaleidoscope, and time a tangled mess.
Is this... the graveyard of the universe? Or the garbage dump of spacetime?
Lin Mo's consciousness was filled with a wave of dizziness and intense repulsion. The very existence of this place was a denial of order and life. The violent turbulence of time and space was like billions of invisible scrapers, continuously scouring his spiritual shadow. Each scour brought a tearing pain, sapping his already weak strength of existence.
Can't stay here!
Must leave!
We must find our way back! Find Frost Medicine and Morning Star!
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