Kafka stood at ease despite the restraints, posture relaxed, gaze distant. It was as though the situation no longer concerned her, as though she had already moved several steps ahead while everyone else was still catching up.
She spoke without preamble.
"Long the Permanence."
Her voice carried evenly across the platform.
"Idrila the Beauty. Ena the Order. Tayzzyronth the Propagation... Akivili the Trailblaze. Each of THEM vanished, leaving their Paths behind without a master."
Sunny listened without interrupting. Kafka's tone wasn't reverent or ominous — it was matter-of-fact, almost instructional, like someone summarizing a failed experiment.
"A Path doesn't disappear just because its Aeon does. Concepts don't need a will to exist. They just lose direction."
She shifted her stance slightly, the golden cuffs around her wrists glinting faintly.
"There are three ways an Aeon can be destroyed. The first is overlap. When two Paths are too similar, conflict is inevitable. Over time, the broader concept absorbs the narrower one. That's what happened to Ena. Order didn't vanish — it was folded into Harmony. Xipe didn't kill Ena so much as render THEM obsolete."
Kafka shrugged lightly, as if the distinction barely mattered.
"The second is war. Aeons can kill each other outright if the power difference is large enough, or if several of them act together. Tayzzyronth caused the Swarm Disaster. That alone guaranteed retaliation. THEY were attacked by multiple Aeons and wiped out."
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the distant outline of the Luofu.
"The Xianzhou's approach to Yaoshi follows the same logic. The Hunt doesn't believe Abundance can be contained. So the Alliance destroys its creations, over and over, trying to erase the source of their flawed immortality."
Sunny finally spoke.
"And the third?"
Kafka didn't answer, a smirk on her face as she looked behind Sunny.
Sunny followed her gaze.
At first, it looked like the skyline was shifting. Then he realized it wasn't perspective — it was movement.
The Ambrosial Arbor was growing.
Not slowly. Not naturally. The massive tree surged upward, its trunk thickening as new branches split and extended with violent abundance. Ghostly green flames flared brighter along its bark, casting an eerie glow across the surrounding districts.
Sunny felt it immediately. Growth without an endpoint.
It made his skin crawl.
Behind him, something loosened.
Kafka's restraints vanished without a sound. They were simply no longer there, as if reality had revised itself to acknowledge a mistake.
Sunny sensed movement.
Blade landed beside Kafka with a muted impact, straightening slowly. His sword rested in his hand, fractured along its length yet held together by something stubborn and violent. He raised it slightly — not to strike, but as a warning.
Sunny didn't turn to face them.
He kept his eyes on the Ambrosial Arbor as it climbed higher, green fire licking the sky like living veins.
He had no intention of stopping them. No intention of fighting. Whatever was unfolding now wasn't his responsibility — not yet. He still had a role to play later, a promise to keep, a mask to put back on when the time came.
Kafka stepped off the platform.
She dropped cleanly into the layers below, vanishing without hesitation. Blade followed immediately, diving headfirst like gravity was an inconvenience rather than a law.
The platform was left behind.
Sunny remained where he was, staring at the Ambrosial Arbor as it burned brighter and grew taller, its vitality spilling into the Luofu like a slow catastrophe.
Then, looking to his side just to find March and Welt in a hypnotic trance, he sighed.
'Oh boy…'