He sighed softly, his voice as gentle as ever.
"Didn't you already have the answer?"
"...So that means he's not in this world, right?"
Aetheran looked up, gazing at the empty barrier, his eyes, hidden beneath bandages, were blank.
He murmured softly.
"With my strength, I am not yet able to break through the world's barrier."
"Then will you give up?" the world consciousness asked.
Aetheran seemed not to hear His question, lost in his own thoughts.
"But if we can obtain energy from higher dimensions, there might still be a glimmer of hope."
Having said that, he finally turned his head and looked at the world consciousness again.
"..."
He appeared to be at his last gasp, sustained only by sheer willpower. But like a moth drawn to a flame, beneath the calm lay an unyielding madness; he was prepared to destroy everything in his path.
The world consciousness, however, actively set aside a wisp of energy, which transformed into a gentle breeze that swept across Aetherland.
His most beloved child—
Perhaps this is fate.
Under Atheran's astonished gaze, the world's consciousness voluntarily relinquished its last vestige of origin and bestowed it upon him.
The universe was annihilated, and the barriers between worlds crumbled like parched earth, scattering into countless fragments. In the exit passage, he turned his head to look at those fragmented memories, as if reviewing his entire life.
A genius born with innate knowledge, the undisputed heir, the chosen one on the throne.
His glory, brilliance, and past are all contained here.
But as he left, Atheran reached out and grasped only the fragment engraved with Vili's smiling face, holding it tightly in his palm.
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