Chapter 432 World
Even later on, Azuka still almost didn't want to recall the memories that almost drove him crazy.
The founding of the People's Republic of China was undoubtedly a moment of immense excitement for everyone. At the founding ceremony, Marcylin embraced Orel and cried uncontrollably, her tears and snot all over him. The assassin grumbled a few words of disdain, but in reality, he too was blinking non-stop and even wiping his eyes several times, not wanting anyone to see, especially Greven, whose eyes were also red with excitement.
They all looked up at that man, the one standing high, gazing at the rising flag with a solemn expression. The former Scarlet Tyrant, enveloped in the fluttering crimson banner, appeared and disappeared in the wind, evoking a sense of vastness and unreality—as if he truly were a ghost from history and the future, a spirit not of this world, who had suddenly chosen to walk among the human race.
These vague and inexplicable ominous premonitions were slowly coming true step by step.
First, Rabelais died.
This is not actually an accident. Miracles are too rare and cruelty is the reality. Everyone is mentally prepared and can even comfort themselves. After all, the old man personally attended the founding ceremony and witnessed the birth of the People's Republic of China with his own eyes.
The old man was so excited that his face was flushed that day. He would brag to everyone he met about the best young man on the stage, who was his proudest student.
But grief is grief, and when it strikes, it doesn't fade even a little bit with the ceremonial words of comfort to the living. At Rabelais's funeral, the professor remained calm throughout. He personally arranged his mentor's remains, draped the flag of the Republic over the body, and returned him to the grounds of Baita University. Then, he stood silently by the tombstone, feeling the wind for a long time.
"...I've sent too many people away." The black-haired young man whispered when he was hugged from behind.
Madal Rabbi, Gad Mavro, The Owl, The Cole Family, Ashes… and now it’s the turn of Delos Rabelais. And many more, famous, unknown, familiar, unfamiliar, past, future…
Azuka said nothing. He simply held his lover's increasingly thin body tightly in his arms, as if hoping to shield him from all the storms and thunder from the outside world.
...But there are always some things he can't do, even if he is a so-called "God".
The professor fell into a coma with absolutely no signs. Azuka happened to be away that day. He just attended the meeting as usual, listened, spoke, slammed the table and quarreled, and then fell down in public. A bloody gash was cut on his forehead by the corner of the table, which scared the Populist who was speaking. The rough man burst into tears on the spot, thinking that he had angered Mr. Ghost.
The good news is that this was a small-scale meeting within the top leadership of the People's Party, and all of them were trustworthy people. Azuka acted decisively and strictly sealed the news to avoid causing greater panic and turmoil.
The bad news is that the professor was in a coma for about a day and a night, but none of the therapists, including Azuka, could find any symptoms. Apart from fatigue and some minor ailments caused by coffee addiction and lack of sleep, this body was kept very healthy.
But the person just couldn't wake up until a day later, when he slowly opened his eyes in a trance. The only thing he could remember was the memory before he fell into a coma, so it could only be temporarily regarded as a coma caused by "being too tired".
Azuka didn't say much on the surface, but he felt heavy in his heart - if everything was fine with the body, then the problem was most likely with the other person's soul.
Sure enough, soon these comas began to become more and more frequent and lasted longer and longer, which caused the professor to lose weight rapidly, become delirious, and unable to eat. When he tried to stimulate his brain by drinking coffee, he was sternly stopped. At that time, Azuka rarely turned his face to someone and got quite angry. After he calmed down, he hugged the man tightly with trembling hands, and whispered an apology in his ear for his loss of control, saying that he shouldn't have lost his temper and been mean to him.
"...How can you call that mean to me?" The professor patted his lover's back rather dully. "The crows in Ore peck at people with more force than you do."
This clumsy comfort, which was done with a touch of fake levity and sarcasm, did not make anyone feel any more relaxed. Azuka took a deep breath, forcing himself not to pour out the panic and anxiety that filled his stomach and was almost driving him crazy onto a patient who should have been carefully cared for.
"...Sir, please don't scare me like this anymore." The Savior pleaded in a low voice.
He was referring to the guy's attempt to prolong his life with coffee.
The professor huddled obediently in his arms, probably knowing he was in the wrong, and rarely responded obediently to the coffee question.
But promises pale in the face of reality, and his body continues to weaken at a visible rate. Even if those in the know try their best to conceal it, Mr. Ghost has always been a well-known workaholic. His increasingly frequent absences and clearly haggard appearance are enough to prove that there is something seriously wrong with his body.
An extremely uneasy undercurrent began to surge in the core of power of the Republic.
Maxine cried secretly several times because of this, Orel's temper became more and more violent, and Greven was terrifyingly silent, but everyone reached a consensus, which was to support that person and everything they had created together - until Magnus' "arrival", although it was forced.
The future god of fate who was caught seemed reluctant, but under the threat of death, he still uttered a few mumbled words.
——The abyss, the beginning of everything, the end of everything.
Azuka stood on the streamstone beach, his head tilted back, his golden hair fluttering in the wind as he silently gazed at the majestic snow-capped Assaki Mountains before him. Ezra lay quietly beside him, as if sensing his emotions, gently nuzzling his face with her dragon head, and occasionally sniffing the dark-haired young man who had fallen asleep again in his arms, nudging him with her kiss and making uneasy and sad murmurs.
Going deep into the snowy mountains in the dead of winter was simply courting death, but he had no choice. They rode their dragons over the Asaqi Mountains. Beyond the snowy mountains lay not a wider world, but storms, endless, sinister storms that blotted out the sun, their vision completely obscured by snow and fog. And the further they went, the more violent and violent these storms, as if they shouldn't exist in this world at all, grew. Even Azra, who had always feared nothing except a beating from his master, began to hesitate, letting out low growls of fear and uneasiness.
Until they reached the giant storm wall that even Wind Walker could hardly move forward, Azuka whispered to the dragon to stop on a slightly gentler snow slope.
"Wait for me here," he instructed, stroking the dragon's neck. After a moment's thought, he added calmly, "...If we're not back in three days, you'll leave on your own."
The wind whipped up snow foam like a billion sharp swords, scratching people's faces painfully. Visibility here was horribly low, and just a few steps away was a chaotic, swirling white apocalypse. Seeing his master preparing to carry his partner into the place of death, Azra immediately leaned out and tried to bite the man's robe and drag him back.
But the dragon failed. When the divine power covered his body, the God of Resistance and Change disappeared at the end of the storm without hesitation in a flash, as if he had taken the initiative to walk into the throat of the giant beast.
…
Darkness, only darkness, in darkness they walked.
Azuka suddenly thought he heard what the professor had described as "ultrasound or infrasound" coming from the depths of Assachi Peak. This was impossible; he was human, not some gray-backed voles committing mass suicide. But Azuka was certain he "heard" a kind of clattering movement, a call, an urging, a kind of... a nagging chatter, as if someone were whispering emotionlessly deep within his soul.
——People from another world, it’s time for you to leave.
"Ambrose, the God of Origins?" the God of Struggle and Change said expressionlessly, "Or should I call you 'World'?"
The sound stopped for a moment, as if something slowly turned its head to look at him, then shifted its gaze indifferently.
——People from another world, it’s time for you to leave.
"He won't leave," Azuka said coldly. "His body in the other world has been destroyed. If you expel him now, he will die. How can that make sense?"
——People from another world are variables and need to be expelled.
——Exist, the world is dangerous. Leave, the world is safe.
Azuka was almost amused by Him: "Then why didn't you think of the so-called danger when you brought him into this world?!"
——Fate is unpredictable.
Then, the other party stopped answering any of his questions and began to nag the alien to leave. For a moment, Azuka felt a strangely similar irritability to the great prophet Magnus, who was thousands of miles away.
However, any human emotional fluctuations are useless to the world itself. He does not have any human concepts of good and evil, only the purest weighing of pros and cons.
The logic of the world is cruelly simple. He cares not for process or motive, only for results. The arrival of the Otherworlder is a "variable" created to disrupt the situation. In the past, he was tolerated because of the more deadly and important chaos created by the gods.
But when the gods were driven out of the abyss and the world gradually moved towards a new and fragile balance, the existence of the "variables" from other worlds who had a history of almost destroying the world became a "serious mistake" that urgently needed to be corrected by the world.
"...I understand." Azuka's tone became unusually calm.
"Ambrose, I know you're listening." The golden-haired god slowly raised his head, his untidy hair moving without a breeze. His eyes were like cold, luminous gilded suns, revealing a calm, icy, and madly resolute determination that was too cold to be looked at directly. "You're worried his presence will increase the risk of world destruction, so you're forcing him to leave. This is the rule of the 'world.'"
His voice was very soft, and he spoke word by word.
"But if you insist, I will now trigger the greatest spatial turbulence I can create, and then destroy the abyss and the world together."
"—These are my rules."
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