Ethan has already demonstrated for him in the dreamscape, and this time, even without the other’s help, he can bring the world back on track.
A world wholly engulfed in darkness, without a trace of light.
Everyone was trapped in darkness, waiting to perish with the old world, embracing a destiny meant for them. Before their arrival, such reboots had happened many times, yet this time, it was time for change.
Kane bid farewell to Ethan and Lindong without turning his head, raising his right arm to wave them goodbye.
"The rest is up to us now."
The golden radiance became the sole guide in the darkness, leading Ethan toward the next trial portal.
As their figures stepped into the gate, the torn space was mended, and the Spear of War fell to the ground with a muffled sound.
All light was extinguished.
Kane sat upon the skull throne, his hand touching something familiar, chaotic and disordered energies. In his mind surfaced another voice, those parts about to awaken longed for a grand spectacle, yearning to witness a war immediately, hear the sounds of battle, with the scent of blood in the air being the most delectable feast.
If it were Kaisaros, he would be eager to turn the new world into a battlefield.
And this time, He would simplify everything, leaving out the complex parts.
No identity, no background, not needing any reason.
Simply placing creations on the battlefield, allowing them to follow their beastly instincts, piercing each other’s bodies with sharp blades.
These were Kaisaros’s desires, seeming barely able to wait.
However, Kane vetoed Kaisaros’s plan, for He was no longer in charge.
He learned many things from Ethan; this world was like his house, and the skull throne was the control panel of the house. One of God’s powers was to paint this house as He liked.
Kane looked up at the sky, swallowed by darkness, where the sun was supposed to exist.
He disliked this dark, gloomy atmosphere. Fınd the newest release on 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹⟡𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⟡𝙣𝙚𝙩
God said, there should be light.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the camp.
McCarthy Delin’s shoulder was heavily patted.
The other’s grip was strong, making him grimace instantly — at this moment, he, like others in the camp, awaited the arrival of the predetermined destiny.
The sun was devoured, plunging the whole world into eternal night, all signs of the world’s destruction.
He brought a message to the subhumans, witnessing the Warlord’s death, and seeing the truth of this world firsthand. As an individual, he had nothing else to ask for, and the affairs following that were no longer within his control.
He was not McCarthy Delin, no longer the leader of humans. At least before the apocalypse, he found his free soul.
"Cynthia, what are you doing here?"
The voice behind was loud and casual, Cynthia always wore a smile, nothing seemed to trouble her, not even the end times could.
"I didn’t expect what you said to be true, not like you were kicked in the head by a donkey!"
Cynthia thought this couldn’t be blamed on her, for McCarthy Delin’s claims were too bizarre. Anyone suddenly hearing "this world is false" or "you are all puppets controlled by others" would think the person was acting crazy.
Yet this world was developing in the direction McCarthy Delin depicted.
When he returned to the camp, the Elemental Shapers who initially scoffed at his claims gathered around, asking what would happen next.
They saw the cracks in the sky and earth, witnessed the terrifying darkness within the fissures.
Unknown fears shrouded the people.
McCarthy Delin revealed to them an even more terrifying fact — this world would reboot, and as discarded individuals, they were no longer needed. Once the reboot process was complete, a new "McCarthy Delin" would replace him; it was a process everyone had to experience.
Such cycles had been repeated many times.
Despair spread between camps, followed by numbness.
"I never lied from the start."
McCarthy Delin said, "But I don’t have any more to tell you, Cynthia, this should be the end."
He understood Cynthia.
With her personality, she had already eavesdropped on all the conversations when he was surrounded by the camp’s Elemental Shapers, he knew it was hard to accept. All the wars, all their missions, were a game devised by ’God’.
He was a bit tired, not wanting to repeat this bad news, especially when facing Cynthia.
Perhaps they should find lighter topics.
Cynthia’s smile faded a bit, showing a rare serious look, "That’s why I came to find you, isn’t it? McCarthy, for me, the future is long, unimaginably long, so I always like to put many things off for later."
If they didn’t want to deal with it today, they would just put it all behind; this was their unique capriciousness.
But now, everyone’s time equally came to an end, so she had to put many important things to be done first.
For example, she wanted to meet McCarthy Delin, although many details still needed to be figured out.