The struggle between the Imaginary Tree and the Sea of Quanta never ceases. Their unbroken assaults weave an airtight, colossal net, leaving no room for escape.
Yet within it stands a single figure, unmoving as a mountain, an air of ease and serenity spreading outward from him.
Neither the streaks of imaginary golden light scattered by the Imaginary Tree as it swings its branches, nor the surging, endless waves of the Sea of Quanta can shake him in the slightest.
Like a pillar holding up the heavens. Like a divine needle anchoring the seas.
The conflict between the two never stops. It is only that this time, They have gained a common enemy, giving rise to a scene unseen for tens of millions of years.
The intensity far surpasses anything before. They scar one another, only for those wounds to heal in the blink of an eye under the nourishment of primal power.
The tides rise and fall. Fate is born and fate is extinguished.
Though all Their efforts are ultimately futile, given Their sheer scale, maintaining such intensity is effortless.
They can still sense the existence somewhere that is constantly siphoning Their power, watching Them even now.
Powerful instincts allow Them to remain calm and unhurried. It is precisely because of this that life's pursuit of essence and elevation came into being.
Having existed since time immemorial, They possess ample patience and confidence.
Yet, in the end, They never gave rise to true consciousness. The cries of instinct are not entirely correct, and the consequences may be far beyond what They themselves can bear.
Mobius is also present, witnessing a scene she could never have imagined before.
Though she stands within it, she is equally aware of the changes occurring beyond. Imaginary vortices suddenly appearing throughout the cosmos, annihilating everything around them…
But Mobius knows that this is already an extremely rare stroke of fortune.
Countless worlds sunk within the Sea of Quanta have been destroyed during this period of conflict.
Even many intact worlds upon the Imaginary Tree have not been spared, annihilated by the very attacks that nurtured Their existence.
…
By comparison, only a few world being destroyed, with the rest being damage on a minuscule, visible scale, is already a blessing.
Surely Herta and the others are within the bounded observation zone, right?
...
The tearing continues.
The number of newly formed imaginary vortices is not large, but the existing ones are growing rapidly under some unknown force.
Balanza Furnace.
The stronghold of the Lord Ravager, Irontomb.
A massive mechanical planet floats beneath the starry sky. At its center, a gigantic mechanical eye glowing red sways slowly, gazing at the empty Balanza Furnace.
"So far, it has expanded to three light-seconds."
The three light-seconds refer to the expansion range of the imaginary vortex within Balanza Furnace.
Measured at the speed of light, three light-seconds is an enormous distance.
Three light-seconds are tiny. Within the vast cosmos, three light-seconds are not even enough to draw the attention of a child being scolded by their parents.
But for Irontomb, who values precise data, this figure is terrifying.
If the imaginary vortex continues to grow, it will not be long before Balanza Furnace is completely swallowed. By then, what he loses will be more than just a single legion.
Preparing in advance is a principle every rational lifeform should understand.
After clearing his territory, he can better observe this grand record that has appeared only once.
He remains motionless in the starry void, standing firm and unmoved.
Perhaps… it can be tested.
Suddenly, this thought surfaces in his mind.
Exploring the unknown is something every sufficiently powerful intelligent lifeform possesses. Coincidentally, he perfectly meets this condition.
The furnace begins operating. Various data streams are adjusted, and the body personally tuned by the Lord Ravager reveals itself flawlessly amid the glittering stars.
He cannot fully record the consciousness of the Xianzhou people.
High-ranking individuals such as generals cannot be fully recorded due to time constraints.
Thus, he settles for the next best option, completely recording the most numerous ordinary Xianzhou citizens, along with some exceptional individuals.
Under normal circumstances, even if he possesses the ability to record a person's data, he cannot deploy it perfectly.
As Xianzhou people blessed by Abundance, their data far exceeds the limits of ordinary beings.
What he intends to do is to reconstruct these bodies, to search for the mysteries within them.
"Body adjustment complete. Injecting life marrow."
Command after command is issued.
Within minutes, the hastily constructed cloning laboratory completes its task.
A person. A person with complete life.
The newly born individual looks dazed, naked as he steps out of a mechanical vessel, holding his forehead, his steps unsteady.
Redundant memories surge violently through his mind, overwhelming his fragile biological structure.
Xianzhou people can bear such massive memories thanks to the blessing of Abundance they carry.Irontomb can create life with vast capacity, but he cannot create a true Xianzhou person.
Within an estimated ten minutes, this created being, carrying the memories of a deceased individual, will naturally collapse.
As effortless as his birth, so too will his departure be effortless.
"Go." Time waits for no one, and the created beings exist solely for exhaustive probing.
Receiving Irontomb's command, the person moves toward that vortex.
Every cell in his body screams for him to flee, yet he cannot. Just as he could not choose his birth, his destruction is also beyond his control.
After advancing an unknown distance, his genes begin to collapse, his cells disintegrate. Before he can properly bid farewell to the world, he vanishes once more into the cosmos.
"Safety log updated. Continue deployment."
Irontomb issues another command. Another organic being similar to a clone is created, following the same path.
This time, before reaching the point of natural collapse, he is forcibly dismantled by overwhelming imaginary energy.
"This route is impassable. Change course."
If one path fails, try another. If one person is insufficient, then use two.
The method of exhaustion is the greatest discovery in the world. Even geniuses cannot escape its curse.
Irontomb mobilizes resources. A steady stream of people begins to carve paths for him, naturally collapsing before they can even sort through their memories.
These memories are all precious data recorded by Irontomb.
He then attempts issuing commands without implanting memories, but such individuals are blank slates, consuming too much time.
Rejected.
So the process was repeated once again.
Gradually, as footprints began to spread throughout the Balanza Furnace, Irontomb stubbornly felt his way into discovering a path that could approach the Imaginary Vortex.
Although this path was still suffused with powerful imaginary energy that pressed down on the body, it was already far safer than the surrounding areas saturated with imaginary power.
That the manufactured clones could even reach this place was thanks to the protective devices he had specially smashed materials together to create.
He could not peer into the scene beyond the vortex, but the scattered and chaotic energy particles around the dock were still intact.
As long as the imaginary energy did not exceed a certain threshold, he could face it calmly.
Now was the season of harvest. He began forging a body for himself.
Unlike the mechanical bodies of the past, this time he planned to construct a body of flesh and blood.
To him, there was no inherent superiority between machinery and flesh, only what could truly climb to the peak was most suitable.
However, before achieving that ultimate goal, an incomplete body came with many limitations.
The imaginary energy around the vortex was far too vast. The force field it generated could cause a mechanical body to collapse even if it did nothing at all.
He could resist it with sheer power, but that would only be at the outer edge. What lay deeper inside was unknown, and to be safe, only a powerful flesh-and-blood body could steadily raise the success rate.
Though he had existed as a Intellitron for countless years and had developed only mechanical technologies, the worlds he had conquered were filled with organic life forms of unusual races.
Drawing parallels from them, he began constructing his own body.
A meticulously sculpted form, carrying the finest genes of countless races.
Under destructive forces, they were fused together, forming a body without blind spots.
A body that could be called perfect.
Once this body was completed, Irontomb began linking with it, his vast consciousness merging into the form he had personally overseen from start to finish.
The materials used this time would rank among the very best even across the cosmos, more than sufficient to contain the consciousness of a Lord Ravager.
He moved the body a little, testing it, solid and powerful. Nodding in satisfaction, Irontomb did not intend to enter the Imaginary Vortex himself just yet.
Based on the data from this body, he began mass-producing identical bodies. Two were selected to be infused with consciousness.
"Begin exploration."
With the command issued, the two newly awakened clones obeyed Irontomb's orders, advancing along the path trampled out by companions who had yet to open their eyes to the world, slowly entering the imaginary rupture under the watch of leaping stars.
"Zzz, " A shrill mechanical sound rang out, it was the mirror devices Irontomb had installed on them.
They broke down the moment the pair entered the Imaginary Vortex.
Faced with this situation, Irontomb showed no hesitation. A simple probe in exchange for unviable data was acceptable.
His gaze turned to two blinking red points. They represented life signs.
For now, both were safe. It seemed the environment inside was not excessively dangerous.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, one red light flickered rapidly a few times before abruptly going dark.
"..." That conclusion had come too early.
Though one unit was lost, Irontomb remained confident.
Exploration of the unknown was always about gaining through loss.
No one knew how much time passed. In the distance, a flickering star had already rotated half a circle, dragged along by the force field of imaginary energy.
"Beep beep!"
Just as Irontomb quietly waited for the results, a sharp and urgent alert rang out.
A familiar figure appeared in his field of vision.
It was the second body that had entered the Imaginary Vortex!
In an instant, Irontomb's consciousness probed its experiences within the vortex. Unfortunately, aside from the information that another had vanished abruptly, there was nothing useful.
Even so, this was enough to satisfy him.
It proved that what lay beyond the vortex was not pure calamity. With this, Irontomb's desire to personally enter and explore surged to its peak.
....
Time flowed on slowly.
Most people wandering across the cosmos had already learned of the variously sized Imaginary Vortices that had appeared.
Many who had participated in that battle carried a deep impression of the vortex.
Some even speculated whether Dr. Primitive had never truly died, and that this disturbance might be his mischief in the Sea of Quanta, affecting the Imaginary Tree.
"That is indeed a possible theory, but personally, I don't think Dr. Primitive has such capabilities. If he were still alive, it shouldn't be possible in such a short time."
"But what if it really is him? After all, who knows whether he might grab a vine and whoosh his way up!"
"Quiet, quiet. This is Sparkle's science corner, students, please behave~~"
Pressing her lips together, Robin looked seriously at the Masked Fool acting erratically in front of the city model.
"Miss Sparkle, if you're here as a guest, Penacony welcomes everyone. But if you're simply bored and looking for company, I can ask the IPC's people to show you around."
"Oh my! Look who I see, Miss Robin, the songstress whose voice echoes across the cosmos. Hmm, someone as kind-hearted as you is truly rare in this cosmos full of suspicion. You must be here for Sparkle's class, right?!"
Robin narrowed her eyes slightly, feeling both helpless and irritated at Sparkle.
If Sparkle had approached her through normal channels, it wouldn't have been like this. But the problem was that she had barged in after wrecking the diplomatic workflow with her usual grand antics.
If not for that earlier stunt, Robin could have calmly discussed recent events with Sparkle, or even gifted her a copy of her upcoming album.
Letting out a soft breath, Robin said, "Miss Sparkle, you must be quite busy. You didn't come looking for me just because you had nothing better to do, did you? Is there something you need my help with?"
"Eh! This time you guessed right~~"
As the words fell, Sparkle's figure suddenly flashed to within three centimeters of Robin's face.
Robin could even clearly see the faint redness on Sparkle's cheeks.
Leaning in slightly, crimson lips nearing Robin's delicate earlobe, warm breath brushed against it again and again, making it flush vividly.
"Don't you want to know what that chicken-wing boy is up to~~"