Chapter 1135: Chapter 163 I Allow You to Hug with Ian’s Face (6000)
Echoes.
For thousands of years, all the different echoes resonate in the ears.
At the beginning, it was thunder. And an incredible massive tremor. It was the continent shaking, the sound of the ocean boiling. Storms swept across the land and sky, and even though the entire institute sank into the ground, it couldn’t stop the thunder triggered by tsunamis crashing against mountains. Most people t death in bewildernt and despair, perhaps a rcy, as such a swift death was painless and spared them from facing the suffocating reality post-apocalypse.
Then ca the sobbing. The survivors miraculously preserved their lives in the face of sudden disaster, but there was so much they couldn’t preserve: family and friends, elders and juniors, superiors and subordinates, the conversations of passersby on the street, the swaying branches of boulevard trees, and appointnts with friends along the streets. All the mundane components of life had vanished, leaving only the wailing and sobbing scattered by the fierce winds after the destruction.
Then ca the questioning. Why us? Why did disaster strike? Why did all this happen? Why did the best people die? Why did soone as incompetent as survive?
The survivors, apart from their luck at being alive, occasionally felt such bewildernt or anger from the depths of their hearts. They felt their powerlessness acutely, living with pain greater than death, because they understood that just they alone couldn’t bring about a happy ending found in stories, where hope arises from despair. Civilization would surely be lost in their hands. They would first step into tragedy, hence preferring others to survive instead of themselves.
But ultimately, there was silence.
No matter the anger and pain, despair and bewildernt, reality wouldn’t change for their tears.
Terra civilization was already destroyed. Its last breath was forcibly maintained by one person, an elderly man nearing his end, using his wisdom.
As long as he lived, there was still a possibility for civilization’s revival—because he had in his mind a gift that could record all data, a chip shining with silver brilliance, as resplendent as a myriad of stars.
With such an incredible gift, and wisdom beyond an era, even a single person could bear the weight of civilization.
After the catastrophe, he didn’t give up. The elder continued working in the remnants of the institute, collaborating with a few surviving researchers to explore various possibilities of the Sublimation Path, and one by one sent those who inherited part of his knowledge—the inheritors—to various shelters across Terra.
He keenly perceived the suffering and tornt Terra was about to face post-destruction—the fall of the Star God’s ship, the failure of the True Dragon’s plan, but the Spark of a Thousand Stars would still arrive as promised. This ti, however, they wouldn’t et a complete Terra civilization but rather a turbulent planet still capable of nurturing life.
A land where ‘They’ could take root and be reborn.
They would not be accommodated by Terra but grow freely, developing into their complete form wherever suitable, wreaking havoc on the birthplace of Humans.
—They must be crushed.
This was the only goal the elder set for himself.
At the very least, at the very least, Humans should leave behind a piece of land for their graves.
—As for exactly how to do it…
In the vast laboratory, only the echoes of footsteps lingered. After the last researcher had been sent away, the entire institute fell silent, leaving only the smart servants moving through the corridors.
The Pioneer ceased breathing in such silence.
When exactly did life depart from that body?
Having achieved glory, with a respected position, entrusted and revered by everyone, founding a brand-new era, he was undoubtedly at the pinnacle of the planet… Such a person, even in death, it should be an earth-shattering, civilization-shaking event.
But unfortunately, civilization passed away before he did.
So, what remained for the endless echoes was only silence.
Light and shadow disappeared, all images crumbled.
Ian, as if in realization, moved his hand away from the fragnts of the Calculation Chip.
“Ian?”
Beside him, Anfa noticed Ian’s strangeness and began questioning, while the youth ca back to his senses: “Hmm? Hmm… nothing.”
He gave his friend a calm smile, “Just… saw sothing unusual.”
Indeed it was unusual, even remarkably extraordinary past.
There was no other possibility; Ian could be sure that what he saw was the final monts of the life of the Silver Chip’s original owner, the ‘Pioneer’.
However, this period wasn’t complete. Only the part of his mory, where he was bewildered that his knowledge couldn’t be passed down, was relatively clear. mories from other tis were just fragnts, flashing and fleeting, impossible to discern clearly.
And in this mory, what Ian felt most deeply was not despair, fear, or bewildernt.
But rather a profound loneliness.
As a traveler from Earth, a visitor from another civilization, Ian was as lonely as the Pioneer.
They both existed in a world lagging behind their own eras, surrounded by people who couldn’t comprehend their wisdom, and they struggled to change the era in which they lived… They both knew well that if they died, then the possibility of changing this world, the last sliver of hope, would vanish.
The only difference was that the Pioneer was already old, while Ian was just seventeen. The Pioneer no longer had ti to alter the future, while Ian not only had ti, but as a Prophet, he could gain more ti through predictions of the future.
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