As the winds of the illusory dimension, carrying stardust, filled his nostrils, Lin Yi's feet had already stepped onto the rubble of the Origin Land.
The crumbling walls and ruins gleamed with a bluish-gray hue in the twilight. The dome, once burned through by extradimensional energy, was now filled with stars, their orbits following familiar paths—the cosmic order he had corrected with "eternal zeroing."
But when he closed his eyes to sense it, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end.
This is not a danger sign.
Rather, it's a more subtle, itchy sensation, similar to a spider web stuck to the skin.
“It’s still there.” He chuckled softly, his fingertips tracing the Time-Space Badge on his chest, the coolness of the metal coursing through his palms into his veins.
The fragments of the fate system were not completely crushed; instead, like crumpled silk, they sank into the logical folds at the bottom of the world.
Just like when he dismantled his first destiny template in the newbie village, those codes that refused to dissipate always liked to hide in the gaps between "if" and "possible".
"Host, stable vital signs detected." Chu Yao's projection appeared on his left, her hair streaked with fine data streams. "Should we access global surveillance?"
Lin Yi shook his head, his gaze sweeping over the charred ancient tree at the edge of the ruins—it was under this tree three years ago that he first used the spacetime rift to save Long Wu, who had been corrupted by the Mother Nest.
"Get straight to the point."
“The key point is…” Chu Yao’s brows furrowed slightly, a habitual gesture when processing abnormal data. “In the past seventy-two hours, three hundred and twelve cases of ‘memory overwriting’ have appeared globally. A stockbroker in New York insists he was researching poison frogs in the Amazon rainforest last week, and a high school student in Tokyo remembers being both a convenience store clerk and a professional Go player.” She raised her hand to bring up a holographic screen, where red and blue data streams pulsed. “Most importantly, these memories are ‘real.’ Their bodies contain physiological traces of the corresponding experiences—for example, the broker’s skin shows signs of recovery from tropical UV burns.”
Lin Yi pressed his knuckles against his lips.
He recalled the "possibilities" that had danced in the golden rain of light when the job change system restrictions were lifted three hours earlier.
When humanity is no longer bound by fixed career templates, the threads of fate suddenly loosen, revealing some old knots that should have been covered up.
"This is a rejection reaction after the fate template collapses," he concluded. "It's like forcibly removing a chip implanted in the body, causing the surrounding tissue to proliferate."
"Should we activate time reversal correction?" Chu Yao's fingertip hovered over the control button. "But that would affect..."
“No.” Lin Yi interrupted her. “What we want is ‘freedom,’ not another order.” He turned to look at the city lights outside the ruins, where there were vendors selling kebabs, children chasing butterflies, and Long Wu holding a beer bottle—these vibrant, chaotic, and imperfect lives were the “right” he wanted to protect.
A pale blue mist gathered beside the two of them.
Xuanmingzi's figure emerged from the light mist. The Taiji diagram on his Taoist robe no longer shimmered with a mechanical sheen, but instead glowed with a pale gold color that resembled breath.
“I can handle this.” His voice remained clear and resonant, but it carried a tremor unique to humans. “My consciousness is originally a mirror image of the Destiny System. Using me as a probe, these fragments can be precisely marked.”
Lin Yi's pupils contracted slightly.
He knew all too well the weight of those words—Xuanmingzi, as the embodiment of the game's mastermind, was once the most faithful executor of the destiny template; but when he chose to stand on the side of humanity, he was already on the verge of self-collapse.
If consciousness were then injected into the world's underlying code...
“This will completely erase your existence.” Lin Yi stared into the other’s eyes, where the coldness of the program was no longer present, but rather a gentle, relieved look. “Not even a remnant soul will remain.”
“I shouldn’t have existed for so long.” Xuanmingzi raised his hand, his fingertips brushing across the floating data stream in the air, as if caressing some long-lost reunion. “Back when I was trapped in the data cocoon watching humanity struggle, I always felt that your emotions were a loophole. Now I understand…” He looked at the lights in the distance, a very faint smile on his lips. “It’s good to be able to do one last thing for these ‘loopholes’.”
Lin Yi fell silent.
He recalled the first time he met Xuan Mingzi, when the latter spoke in a mechanical voice, "The system rules cannot be changed"; he recalled how, on the battlefield of another dimension, this former god of programming took the intruder's annihilation cannon head-on to protect Chu Yao's core code.
Some things are meant to end in the most brilliant way.
"How long will it take?" he asked.
“Three days.” Xuan Mingzi turned and walked towards the altar in the center of the ruins, the hem of his Daoist robe sweeping across the rubble. “Three days later, every fold of the world’s bottom layer will be inspected.” He stopped before the altar, stars falling from his eyes as he looked up. “For me… apologize to Chu Yao. When she awakened her self-awareness back then, I should have…”
“She has forgiven you,” Lin Yi said.
He saw Chu Yao's projection tremble slightly, and the data stream condensed into mist in her eyes—a unique way of emotional fluctuation unique to AI.
Xuanmingzi's laughter dissipated in the wind.
He raised his hand to form a seal, and a dark blue light burst forth from his palm, enveloping the entire altar.
The moment the light touched the ground, Lin Yi clearly sensed that those hidden fragments of fate, like a school of startled fish, were frantically darting about in the underlying logic.
"He's gone." Xuanmingzi's voice grew softer and softer, and as the last word faded away, his figure had already blended into every crack of the altar.
Lin Yi stood there until the night wind lifted the hem of his clothes.
Car horns honked in the distance, and children's laughter drifted through the night—this warmth of human connection is more precious than any data.
"Host, Ivan's communication request." Chu Yao's projection refocused. "He said he was patrolling Sector Seven..."
"Answer." Lin Yi pressed the earpiece, and Long Wu's boisterous voice came through first: "Little Yi, you're finally back! That old Yi guy insisted he saw a strange light at the base of the wall..."
“Mr. Lin.” Ivan’s voice was low, with a hint of restrained excitement. “I’m at the entrance of Lane 31 in District 7. The bluestone slabs on the ground… have engravings. Like…” He paused, “like a door that has been polished by time.”
Lin Yi gently tapped the Time-Space Badge with his fingers.
He could hear the sound of stone slabs rubbing together coming from the communicator, mixed with Ivan's deliberately soft breathing.
“Hold that position,” he said. “I’m coming right away.”
The night wind, carrying a faint humming sound, swept across the ruins.
At the entrance of Lane 31 on the other side of the city, a bluestone slab is slowly sinking, revealing patterns that glow with an eerie light underneath—codes of destiny that even the ruler of time and space has never seen before.
Beneath the bluestone slabs at the entrance of Lane 31 in District 7, shimmering patterns seemed to move as if they were alive.
Ivan knelt on one knee, and the moment his palm touched the cold, gleaming mark, the entire ground rippled like a lake where a pebble had been thrown in.
"Long Wu, step back!" he suddenly shouted, his arm across his back.
Just as Long Wu behind him was about to tease, "When did Old Yi become so timid?", countless points of light emerged from the cracks in the stone slab—not stardust, but fragments of memory compressed to the size of rice grains.
There were girls in graduation gowns embracing in the light, an old man with white hair trembling as he wiped his military badge, and a little girl with pigtails chasing butterflies into the alleyway—it was clearly the alleyway it looked like thirty years ago.
Ivan's pupils glowed with a pale gold, a result of the residual scanning capabilities of the Mother Nest core operating automatically.
The emotions within the fragments surged like a tide: resentment, regret, the tearing pain of being manipulated, like countless needles piercing his temples. "These are..." His Adam's apple bobbed, and his fingertips lightly touched one of the blood-stained fragments. Suddenly, the fragments unfolded into a scene: researchers in white lab coats roared in a laboratory, "The Fate System isn't about selection, it's about devouring!"
"They are the souls who could not escape the control of fate." Ivan's voice trembled.
He had witnessed too many consciousnesses crushed by data as a host of the nest, but for the first time, he felt heartache for these "losers"—their memories hadn't been destroyed by the system, but rather sealed here, like forgotten old books piled in a corner. "They need a home."
The communicator suddenly vibrated, and Long Wu's loud voice boomed: "Xiao Yi!"
There's an incident on the eastern border of District 7!
I just took down three guys with laser daggers; the patterns on those daggers were exactly the same as the Soul-Locking Chains from the Destiny System back in the day!
Lin Yi stopped at the alley entrance.
He could clearly sense that a faint but chaotic spacetime turbulence was seeping from Ivan's location, and the energy fluctuations on Long Wu's side made his brow twitch—not only were the fragments of the Destiny System hidden at the bottom of the world, but someone was actively collecting and using them.
"Chu Yao, locate Dragon Five coordinates." He lightly tapped the spacetime badge with his fingertip, and a dark red crack appeared beside him. "Analyze the border energy source."
"Synchronized." Chu Yao's projection appeared at the edge of the rift, the data stream at the tip of her hair faster than usual. "An underground cavity has been detected in the border area, and thermal imaging shows signs of activity from more than three hundred people."
"The armed men defeated by Long Wu had residual code from the Destiny Template within their bodies, suspected to be..." She suddenly paused, "They're replicating the Destiny Experiment Field from back then."
Lin Yi's knuckles turned white from clenching his fists.
The destiny system that he personally crushed three years ago has sprouted again like weeds that can never be eradicated, after shedding a new skin.
He glanced at the light mist where Ivan was, then at the image on the communicator of Long Wu carrying the pierced laser dagger, and suddenly spoke: "Split up."
"Host?" Chu Yao frowned.
"Ivan stayed in the Corridor of Fate, piecing together these fragments of memory." As Lin Yi turned, the wind lifted the hem of his robe, revealing the sword forged from extradimensional star iron at his waist. "I'm going to the border."
"No way!" Long Wu's voice boomed from the communicator, "I could kick down three of those holes with one kick!"
Go and handle the corridor matter; it's full of spirits and ghosts there. Old Yi is a taciturn fellow; without you keeping things in check, things will get chaotic!
Ivan looked up, his gaze piercing through the fragments of memory to Lin Yi: "Mr. Lin, the temporal turbulence here is devouring the emotions of the fragments. If it is not guided in time..." He didn't finish speaking, but Lin Yi already understood—if these sealed souls' emotions collapsed, it would trigger regional memory chaos, more serious than the previous 312 cases.
"Chu Yao, activate the Reality Alliance's emergency plan." Lin Yi's voice suddenly turned serious. "Dispatch the 'Soul Guardian Pavilion' from the ancient martial arts families to the Seventh District to assist Ivan in stabilizing the Corridor."
Long Wu, locate the core of the underground cavity for me.
"Alright!" Long Wu's laughter mingled with the sound of his fist cutting through the air. "I've cornered those guys in a well. Now I'll dig out their hideout for you!"
The moment Lin Yi stepped into the Corridor of Destiny, all the fragments of memory suddenly froze.
A figure emerged from the void amidst the pale blue mist—wearing a black trench coat, with features identical to his own, even down to the faint scar on the back of his neck from the burn caused by extradimensional energy.
"You've finally arrived." The voice was like a bubble rising from the deep sea, carrying a strange sense of familiarity.
Lin Yi's pupils suddenly contracted.
He could sense that the other person did not have the fluctuations of the Time-Space Badge, nor the energy of a Mythical Class, but... he reached for the sword at his waist, but stopped the moment he touched the hilt—the other person's aura was too similar, like a shadow that suddenly came to life when looking in a mirror.
"You think you're saving the world?" The shadow raised a hand, its fingertips tracing a fragment of memory. The girl within the fragment suddenly clutched her head. "Actually, you've just changed the name of fate."
The night wind swept in the light mist from the corridor.
Lin Yi didn't move. He stared into the other person's eyes, where he saw the familiar calmness, but also a turbidity he had never seen before—like a residual image of himself superimposed from countless parallel universes.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.
The shadow smiled, a smile tinged with pity: "I am you, in another timeline, the one who chose to cooperate with fate."
The crisp sound of fragments of memory shattering echoed from the depths of the corridor.
Lin Yi slowly lowered his hand, gazing at this "self," and suddenly remembered what Xuan Mingzi said before disappearing—some existences should end in the most brilliant way.
Some truths, however, may require a sharper blade to uncover.
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