This seems more like a cult execution site than a promotion ceremony.
Not far away, you can vaguely see a team of doctors prepared and ready. In the transparent containers, there are liquids emitting a silver light, with a large number of Mang Silver Souls gathered here to deal with any possible contingencies.
Bologue ntioned earlier that he didn’t think he needed the rescue team—a joke of sorts about saving an Undead, which sounds less like a waste of dical resources and more like a dark joke.
The doctors also believe rescuing an Undead is aningless, but they can prevent Bologue from getting lost in the Ethereal Realm to so extent, so they remain at their posts, on high alert.
Getting lost is a more terrifying outco than death; Bologue would fall into eternal slumber, turning into a living corpse.
Others were quite worried about this, but Bologue himself was not very concerned. He knew that if he encountered an insurmountable crisis, that heavy, rusted anchor would reappear, dragging him back to the mortal world.
He is the Astronaut’s Deputy in this world, the Chosen One who carries its will. The Astronaut is weaving so grand conspiracy, and Bologue is the most crucial executor. The Astronaut would not abandon him as long as he holds value, like a mutual threat.
Bologue looked forward to that scene. He had too many questions to ask the Astronaut.
"Speaking of, Aimou."
Bologue called out to the hazy figure. The ritual hadn’t started yet, but the Ether concentration in the place had already significantly increased. A faint golden mist surrounded Bologue, the air becoming moist and filled with vapor, with golden dew forming on the tal surfaces, as if containing countless golden specks.
"What’s the matter?"
Aimou was doing the final checks on the ritual platform, neglecting no spot.
"After this, do you have ti?" Bologue said, "I rember ’Night Hunter’ is being re-released today. If I’m quick, we might catch it."
Aimou shook his head and said, "Make sure you stay conscious after it’s over first."
"Hopefully."
Bologue took a deep breath, his chest rising slightly. Approaching footsteps could be heard, and a blurred figure gradually erged—Mamo ca to Bologue’s side, his old palm brushing Bologue’s arm, dry skin rubbing like a piece of dead bark grazing against Bologue’s body.
Mamo asked, "Do you rember what I said?"
"Of course."
Bologue followed the mory and said, "My ’body’ will remain here, while my ’mind’ and ’spirit’ will rise to the Ethereal Realm, facing the existence of the Secret Source."
"You must ensure the integrity of the mind and spirit. We are trinity; losing any part, the completeness of our life would cease."
To lose the ’body’ is the destruction of the physical flesh; the annihilation of the ’mind’ is the dissipation of self-awareness; the departure of the ’spirit’ represents the loss of the soul.
Mamo continued, "Based on your last experience as a Prayer Believer, we have made such a presumption about getting lost."
"Let’s hear it."
"Perhaps those who are lost are called by the brilliance of the Secret Source during their deep venture into the Ethereal Realm, and their spirit remains intact, but their mind is forever left there, unable to awaken."
Mamo continued, "Just like phototaxis."
"Demons, Debtors... all those who have lost or lack a soul, they uncontrollably crave a soul, moving them forward, and we Condensers also seem to have a similar kind of phototaxis."
Bologue murmured, "We crave the Secret Source."
"Like in myths."
Mamo said, "Demons take our souls away, while Gods attempt to save us."
Bologue asked, "Do you think the Secret Source resembles a deity confronting demons?"
"I don’t know. I can’t even be sure if there are any gods in this world."
Mamo’s voice paused, and he continued with Bologue, "Did I ever ntion it to you before? When I was young, I was a believer, a Priest."
"And then?"
Bologue asked, the old man before him having existed in the sa era as the first director. He continued to advance Alchemy Matrix Technology rather than joining the multitude in his old age, instead arduously extending his life until the mont of Death God’s arrival.
"At the ti, I naively thought that gods existed. This idea beca stronger after I saw the Demons."
Mamo’s voice was hoarse as he tugged on the strange helt hanging over Bologue’s head, twisting the bolts in a final adjustnt.
"Yes, just like the books say, the abhorrent demons are real, the crazed devils are real, surely then, sowhere in this world, there must be gods watching over humanity.
I beca more and more devout. By chance, I beca a Condenser, stepping onto the Path of Transcendence, and in the days that followed, I t the initial mbers of the Order Bureau.
Mamo’s eyes were full of nostalgia, as most of his friends had passed away, and these past events beca mories belonging only to him.
I have experienced many things, witnessed much suffering, always looking forward to the advent of the divine. But as ti went by, I saw more and more devils, yet I never found any trace of the supposed gods.
Mamo was silent for a mont, connecting cables to the helt, "One day, it suddenly occurred to , what if there are no gods at all?"
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