Chapter 433 Ending
silence.
The whispers suddenly vanished. Azuka's vision was the first to betray him. Beyond the darkness lay utter chaos. The abyss lacked up or down, left or right, only countless shattered, twisted, swirling blocks of color, like a shattered palette of paint, scrambled by a frantic, chaotic hand. The result was an indescribable riot of color, so dazzling that even the mere sight of it was nauseating.
They sailed in the depths of that vast chaos and nothingness, sometimes like little insects struggling in sticky honey, even breathing was extremely slow and laborious; sometimes like dead leaves falling into a rapids, the colors around them were pulled into indistinguishable lines at a speed unimaginable to humans.
A large amount of divine power was being consumed at an extremely terrifying speed, like a candle flame swaying in a strong wind. The barrier protecting the two of them emitted a tooth-grinding wail that seemed like it could collapse at any moment.
This is the abyss, the abyss that buried the old gods' bodies and exhausted their souls.
However, the God of Struggle and Change did not show any emotion that could be called "fear" on his face. His expression was terrifyingly calm, and there was nothing in the depths of his golden eyes, as if the words he had just said to "destroy the world" did not come from his mouth.
"Ambrose, you can't attack me," the blond god said calmly. "Otherwise, you would have personally expelled the old gods trapped in the abyss. Why bother with so much trouble? All you can do is wait for the abyss to consume my body and soul bit by bit."
——The world is destroyed, everything will end.
All that you care about, all that you cherish, all that you protect... will vanish into thin air.
"Of course, you can also try to reverse the timeline again." The God of Struggle and Change actually smiled slightly, cold and sharp, with a kind of calm madness. "Just like when the Storm God Utoska died, I guess you were involved, and I was powerless to stop it."
"But the silver lining is that I have the Book of Genesis as a 'save point.'" The Savior's voice was low, even gentle and calm. Its slow and measured tone was clear enough to drown out all the noise emanating from the abyss. "I will return to the beginning of it all with my memories, and once again—destroy you."
He continued smiling. "Of course you can relive this confrontation over and over again, and I'll bet the same chips every time. A thousand times, ten thousand times, until your will frays and weathers in the eternal cycle, and I'll be waiting for you at the end of every beginning."
"—You can bet on how many times I will repeat this, and how many times you can restart it."
Dead silence.
After a long time, the will of the world finally rumbled again.
—Fate sees that this will be the case with you.
——Resistance and change, what do you want?
"I want him to be able to truly live in this world like I do," Azuka answered without hesitation. "I want him to be free. I want him to be healthy. I want his existence itself to become an unshakable 'truth' recognized by the laws of the world."
——Freedom of existence, yes.
——But the souls of people from another world do not belong here.
——As time goes by, the rejection will intensify, and the body belonging to this world will gradually weaken.
——He will not be healthy and he will die young.
Azuka was stunned for a moment, a chilling coldness suddenly appearing in his eyes. No wonder the professor was so frail and sickly. He had always thought it was simply a congenital deficiency or overwork—but it turned out that the world had been rejecting him since he was born!
"Then let him have the power to travel freely between the two worlds," the blond god said decisively, proposing a radical solution: "I will regularly accompany him to his homeland to recuperate and alleviate the rejection reaction, thereby protecting his body from premature decline."
Another long silence.
"Don't tell me you can't do it," Azuka said coldly, with an undeniable sense of oppression. "Since you were able to bring him here, you must know the 'coordinates' connecting the two worlds. Maintaining a passage that isn't permanently open, but only periodically stabilized, will be far easier for you than dealing with the countless world-destroying storms I've unleashed."
He took a step deeper into the abyss, and the vast and bright divine power temporarily forced back the sticky and chaotic darkness, illuminating the golden-haired god like the dawn that split the eternal night - although this dawn brought the will of destruction.
The world finally gave an answer.
--Can.
——But you will not cause any damage to the abyss, and in the future you will calmly step into your destined death.
——In addition, you must use your divinity, your authority, your soul, and your existence itself.
—Swear to the Okensele River.
…
I have a splitting headache.
His whole body seemed to be wrapped in a tight layer of leather. The wind was like a wet gauze, gently brushing his cheek, but he was so dull that he seemed to be separated from the world by a thick barrier.
The professor slowly opened his eyes. Darkness, silence, endless nothingness… but something seemed to be gently touching his cheek, then trembling and hugging him tightly.
"What happened to his eyes?!"
After receiving the news that the professor had woken up, Ole, who rushed over first, waved his hands in front of people's eyes a few times - there was no focus, like two empty, highly transparent glass balls.
"Still can't see," Marceline whispered.
She tentatively reached out to touch the back of the black-haired young man's hand. At the moment of contact, even though the red-haired girl's hand was gentle and warm enough, the emperor was obviously frightened by her. Although he was very weak, he still instinctively shrank back with difficulty. Then he was held in Azuka's arms and gently patted his back like comforting a child. This time, the black-haired young man gradually calmed down in her arms, closed his eyes as if he was very tired, and leaned his face on his lover's shoulder.
"...I can't hear it either." Marcylin closed her eyes and added sadly.
——Even the sense of smell and taste disappeared, leaving only a very weak sense of touch all over the body.
"What's going on? Didn't you say it was resolved—" Orel tutted irritably. He glanced at his friend's icy expression and the horrible state of the Tyrant in his arms. In the past, he would have already begun to grumble at this numbing "sickness."
But now, Orel would rather the tyrant be healthy and jump around to anger him, insult him, or have a fight with others in front of him - the assassin finally swallowed all the anger and anxiety back into his stomach.
"It will take time to eliminate this world's rejection of him," Azuka replied briefly. "...His body is too weak right now, so recovery will also take time."
Ole and Marshilin left. They were busy, but upon hearing the news, they had abandoned their work and rushed over to see him. The news of Ghost's serious illness plunged the newly born Republic into chaos and anxiety. Undercurrents surged, and both within and outside the Party, relying entirely on the new generation, previously trained by Ghost, to fully support it.
The savior silently embraced his nemesis, patting his back. The professor, who always relied on his senses to absorb and interpret vast amounts of information, was now suddenly plunged into a nightmare-like "brain tumor" state, where all five senses were nearly nullified. Even imagining the fear and panic his lover must be facing sent throbbing pain through his heart, as if it were immersed in burning acid.
A cold, pale hand rose feebly, appearing on his face. Azuka was startled, then meekly lowered his head, allowing the other person to more easily and slowly explore his facial features.
The slightly cool fingertips stroked his brow bone, his eyelashes, his nose bone and lips... and finally entangled his hair, and then pulled it "hard" with difficulty, obviously very dissatisfied with his arbitrary decision to go to the abyss.
Azuka: “…”
He laughed softly and kissed the black-haired young man's pale forehead carefully, not caring whether the other party could hear him or not: "I'm fine, sir, don't worry about me."
"...A...Zu-ka..."
Azuka was stunned for a moment. He could see those beautiful smoky-gray eyes slowly turn and "look" in his direction. The voice was strange and out of tune, as if it was a clumsy imitation that was put together with great effort by the man who had used all his strength to mobilize his throat and tongue.
A huge surprise and an even greater sorrow and grief suddenly intertwined and hit his chest. The savior agreed clearly, letting the hand slowly slide down and gently rest on his chest, feeling his increasingly rapid heartbeat.
For the builders of the People's Republic of China, the following months were undoubtedly a period of repeated torment amidst anxiety and hope.
The professor's condition began to gradually improve. Azuka moved almost all the official documents to the other's bedside for processing. In the intervals between busy work, he continued to talk patiently to his lover who was sitting quietly on the bedside, telling him about the weather changes, today's breakfast, reporting on the daily work of the People's Party, describing the results of the newly promulgated policies, and what jokes Ole had made... Even though the other party often fell asleep while listening and he could only get some occasional responses, he still enjoyed it.
By the time the cold winter of 1853 was over, the professor was able to get out of bed and walk a few steps with the help of others. His other senses had almost fully recovered, but his eyesight was still very poor and he could not see clearly.
On a warm, sunny afternoon, Azuka supported him as they took a slow stroll through the garden. The newly born republic was in ruins, and a small, remote estate that had once belonged to a nobleman had been preserved and renovated as a place for Mr. Ghost to rest.
The professor paused, squinting slightly, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. The moss in the corner shimmered with a furry, wet light, and the blossoms on the branches shattered at the touch, rustling down and then being picked up by the gentle spring breeze, bringing with them a sweet scent.
He turned his head, his smoky gray eyes gleaming transparently in the sunlight. "There's something in your hair," the black-haired young man, who had grown paler and thinner since recovering from a serious illness, suddenly said slowly.
He reached out and plucked the soft white flower from his lover's golden hair, twisted it with his fingertips, then lowered his head and squinted his eyes to examine it carefully: "The anthers are yellow, it must be an apple blossom. Is spring coming?"
For a moment, Azuka felt an uncontrollable soreness suddenly appear in his eyes.
“…Yes, spring is here.”
He repeated softly, reaching out to hold the person tightly in his arms, his voice and heartbeat trembling as gently as a bird's feathers.
"——Sir, welcome home."
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