Lin Yue and Xia Zichen exchanged a glance, simultaneously blasting matrix light particles toward the various tributaries of their sea of consciousness. The moment each particle touched a "first encounter memory," a purple lavender storm erupted in the corresponding universe—a sign of the rewriting of spacetime. In reality, Black Cat's gear-shaped glasses landed in Lin Yue's palm, transforming into the final piece of courage candy, imbued with seventeen different flavors.
"The sweetness value... is MAX." The black cat's voice became softer and softer. "The road ahead... you have to learn to find your own anchor point. Remember, when the lavender of all the universes blooms at the same time, the consciousness of the first generation will forever sleep in the symbiont." Before it finished speaking, its body turned into thousands of light points, merging into Lin Yue's wind rune and Xia Zichen's star pattern.
The starship's engine roar returned to a steady rhythm, and the medieval castle was clearly visible outside the porthole. Lin Yue touched the black cat's whiskers in his palm and discovered they had transformed into seventeen-colored bands of light. Inside Xia Zichen's robotic arm, a fragrant silver light began to flow through the gears. It was the symbiotic energy transmitted by "them" from various universes.
Lao Zhang's holographic projections finally merged, and he handed the two a medieval-style lavender crossbow. "According to the empathy matrix, the Holy Grail fragments are hidden in the Mirror of Lies on the castle's rooftop. But be careful—" He pointed at their crossed wrists, where seventeen tiny rainbow lines had appeared. "Every movement you make now will trigger an interdimensional butterfly effect."
Lin Yue gripped the crossbow tightly, and the lavender at the end of the arrow suddenly blossomed into seventeen colors. Xia Zichen pushed open the starship hatch, and a medieval wind, wrapped in the scent of roses and rust, blew towards him. But the moment it touched his star pattern, it was tinged with a faint scent of gear oil. In his sea of consciousness, "they" from seventeen universes smiled simultaneously and uttered the same words in unison:
"This time, it's our turn to weave our own cocoon of time and space."
(End of Chapter 51)
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