Aunt Heidi and Kal received their recent work assignnts and soon left the study, which appeared much quieter in the spacious room, leaving only Gawain sitting behind the desk and Veronica/Ophelia standing in front of it.
Of course, Amber was also present, but she was often dissolved into the air, and could be ignored.
Gawain looked up at Veronica, who was holding the platinum scepter, and nodded calmly: "Regarding this ’Supre Narrator,’ there are so issues we can discuss. Please have a seat."
Veronica nodded, took a seat on a high-backed chair next to the desk, and spoke softly: "Your actions this ti provided us with a valuable reference example—this should be our first ti encountering a god so directly, and up close, especially one in a rational state."
Gawain said in a deep voice, "Strictly speaking, there is still a difference from the gods in the real world. We cannot yet determine whether the Supre Narrator brewed in the Sandbox World is sufficiently ’complete,’ and having undergone processes of madness, death, and division, it’s hard to say what changes occurred in it during this process."
"But as a reference, it’s enough," Veronica said, "We can at least analyze many god-specific ’features’ from it."
"For example... the purity of the divine nature and the response to mortal ideologies," Gawain said slowly, "The Supre Narrator is composed of two parts, divine nature and human nature. Human nature appears radical, chaotic, emotional, and not rational, yet at the sa ti more intelligent and cunning. Divine nature, however, is much simpler. I can sense it has an unconditional protection and attention towards its followers, and will act to satisfy the collective ideology of its believers—in so respects, its human nature part acts to fulfill the ideology of its believers, just in a different manner."
As he spoke, Gawain slowly furrowed his brow: "This corroborates one of my previous speculations: all gods, whether they eventually beco mad and harmful or not, act in the early stages for the purpose of protecting mortals..."
"Defiers never denied that possibility. We even believe that until the very last mont of madness, the gods retain their instinct to protect mortals in certain aspects," Veronica said calmly, "There are plenty of pieces of evidence showing that gods sheltered the mortal world. In primitive human tis, the existence of gods even helped frail mortals avoid countless cataclysms. The madness and downfall of gods is a gradual process—after this action against the ’Supre Narrator,’ I am more convinced of it."
As Veronica spoke, she lowered her head slightly, gently pressing her chin with her fingers, as if pondering, as if organizing words: "We can view the ’Supre Narrator’ as a god in its earlier stage—a god in the early birth stage, its relatively pure ideology endowed it with more pure divine nature. This is the phase closest to the ’essence’ of a god, while gods in the real world are at later stages. According to our records from those years, gods in the real world are already in a very chaotic, fanatical state, and this situation is clearly deteriorating..."
"We might divide gods into several stages based on this," Gawain pondered and said, "Initially, gods born out of mortal ideologies are pure beings produced by strong spiritual mappings, usually born out of more singular emotions or desires, such as humans’ fear of death, awe of nature, this is the ’primordial gods,’ and the Supre Narrator belongs to this stage;
"Once born, the gods will continuously be influenced by mortal ideologies, and as this influence persists, they will beco mixed with too many ’impurities,’ making them increasingly chaotic, tending toward madness. This is likely the longest phase in a god’s entire ’life cycle,’ the ’pollution era of gods’;
"In the final stage, the pollution reaches its peak, and gods completely transform into chaotic, mad existences. When all reason is obliterated by those chaotic ideologies, gods enter their final stage, the stage that Defiers strive to combat—’Mad Gods.’
After Gawain finished speaking, Veronica gently nodded: "Based on the characteristics exhibited by the Supre Narrator, your classification should be correct."
"...So, not only does divine nature pollute human nature, but human nature also pollutes divine nature," Gawain sighed lightly, "We have always believed that spiritual pollution from gods is the initial, strongest pollution, yet we overlooked that the vast number of mortals also significantly impacts gods...
"The complexity and divergence of mortals lead gods to continuously slide towards madness from their conception. The gods who sheltered all beings were ’created’ by mortals themselves, and the ’Mad Gods’ that ultimately destroy the world were also created by mortals."
"This is the essence of the world," Veronica said quietly, the Defier who has lived for over a thousand years spoke in a serene tone, her crystal-like beautiful eyes devoid of emotion, "Neither unjust nor biased, it rely follows a set of rules in which all of us—including gods—must operate. The only ironic part is us ’Defiers,’ a group of mortals unwilling to obediently die according to the rules, and refusing to die is probably the greatest defiance towards this world."
Gawain was silent for a few seconds, shaking his head with a sigh: "...Survival is the instinct of all beings, morality is limited to between races, in a certain sense, both humans and gods are pitiable."
At this mont, Amber’s voice ca from the nearby air: "But why must human nature inevitably pollute divine nature? If mortals are complex and chaotic, weren’t the mortals at the birth of gods the sa?"
Gawain glanced to the side, casually pulling Amber from the air. Next to him, Veronica spoke: "Because we are constantly developing, the group is becoming increasingly large, increasingly complex, not only materially but ideologically as well.
"The ancient people who initially brewed ’gods,’ they might have simply revered certain natural phenona, their greatest wish might have been rely to have enough food and clothing, just to survive to the next day, but what about us today? How many types of desires do mortals have, how many expectations and impulses for the future? And all these will point to the god who was initially just ant to protect people to have enough food and clothing..."
Listening to Veronica’s words, Amber couldn’t help but slowly furrow her brow.
"This sounds like a dead end... unless we never develop, not even allowing population changes, nor do we alter our thoughts over millennia, to avoid creating ’Mad Gods’... but how is that possible?"
"It is indeed a vicious cycle," Gawain said calmly, "that’s why we must find ways to break it. Whether it’s the Oblivion Association attempting to create a god entirely governed by human nature, or the Eternal Sleepers trying to sever the ’pollution link’ between humans and gods by breaking the ntal Steel Stamp, it all aims to break this vicious cycle. It’s just... none of their paths succeeded."
Suddenly, Amber looked up at Gawain: "Are there other paths?"
Gawain looked into those bright eyes and slowly smiled: "Where there is a will, there is a way."
"Hopefully, this way is found soon," Amber murmured, muttering under her breath, "Good for people, good for gods too..."
Veronica heard Amber’s words, yet as a Defier, she did not offer any rebuttal or warning. She rely listened quietly, her gaze tranquil, seemingly lost in thought.
Gawain slightly narrowed his eyes, his thoughts swirling.
The developnt of mortals... in so sense, brewed the poison that pollutes gods, planting the seeds of humanity’s own destruction. Yet developnt itself is the only defiance mortals can muster against this cold, unyielding world.
This cold rule is indeed unkind, but humans and gods have no alternative.
...
The Magic Guide Technology Research Institute, Druid Research Center.
The gray-haired Byron stood on a clear patch of ground, nervously watching the technicians busily debugging equipnt around the platform. He tried hard to appear calm, standing straight and tall, but those familiar with him could see the deep-seated tension within the Imperial General.
Normally, Byron was scarcely seen standing this solemnly.
Pea quietly sat on a chair beside Byron, slightly helplessly raised her head to glance at her foster father, then lowered her head to pick up her ever-present writing board, scribbling a line of text on it before poking Byron’s elbow with the pen and handing the board over:
"Dad, relax, you’re affecting everyone."
Byron glanced at the content on the writing board, forced a stiff smile: "I... I’m quite relaxed..."
Pea sighed helplessly at his words, her gaze shifting to the pile of machinery and technicians not far away.
Pittman stood in a crowd of assistants and researchers, his lined face displaying an uncommonly serious and stern expression.
The crystal resonance device embedded under the lab bench emitted a pleasant hum, while a complex and clear three-dinsional image appeared above the projection crystal embedded in front of the bench. His gaze swept over the spine-like structure of the image, confirming each detail and focusing on every change it displayed.
"There shouldn’t be any issues; the response matches the last test, the artificial nerve cord is functioning well, and signal transmission is clear," said an assistant. "The next step is to see if the new cranial base contact points can perform as expected..."
"Finally at the acceptance stage..." Pittman murmured softly, then cautiously picked up the oddly shaped silver-white device placed centrally on the platform, as if handling a treasure.
It was a less than half-ter long "serpentine device" composed of segnts of silver-white tal, resembling a flat spine, with one end having a triangle structure seemingly fitting the back of the neck while the other extended several "tentacle-like" terminals. The entire device appeared intricate and unusual.
This was the improved "Neural Thorn."
Pittman held the tri-shaped structure of the Neural Thorn with one hand and supported its terminal nodes underneath with the other, approaching Byron and Pea.
"Ready for use?" Byron imdiately inquired.
"It was always usable," Pittman rolled his eyes, "but for safety and caution, we checked again."
Yet this explanation did not significantly ease Byron’s tension; he couldn’t help but frown and confirm again: "In case sothing goes wrong..."
"First of all, this is a non-invasive nerve cord, connecting with the brain through cranial base contact points, which have a circuit-break chanism. As long as the user’s brainwave disturbance exceeds the safety threshold, the contact points automatically disconnect. Secondly, we’re surrounded by experts, and the lab is equipped with the best ergency facilities. You can just relax and keep your heart at ease so it continues beating where it should for decades to co, don’t let yourself worry unnecessarily here."
Byron opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say more, but Pea had already stood up from her chair, calmly pushing Byron aside.
Pittman glanced at Byron: "Pea is much braver than you."
Byron’s lips moved slightly; he seed to have much more he wanted to say, but ultimately, he kept silent.
Under such circumstances, one ought not challenge the professionals nor disrupt the experintal project—this simple truth was even clear to a rcenary-turned Knight.
"Pea, sit here," Pittman guided the girl to a nearby chair. Her hair was already tied up before leaving the house today, exposing her smooth neck. Pittman, holding the world’s first "Neural Thorn," brought it closer to Pea’s nape. "There’s a bit of coolness, and so tingling sensation that will quickly pass. Then the tray will adhere to your skin, ensuring effective connection of the cranial base contact points—the ’Bonding Technique’ is quite stable, so if you wish to take it off later, rember to press the sequence of buttons at the back first, otherwise it will hurt..."
Pittman explained the precautions with great seriousness, finally attaching the silvery device to Pea’s nape.
A very subtle "clicking" sound ca from the silver tal joints, as the equipnt, composed of magic-conducting materials, light tals, and biomitic substances, sensed the brainwaves and seed to co alive. The triangular tray adhered to Pea’s head, while a dark red light flow swiftly coursed through the neatly arranged tal "segnts," activating the internal magic symbols in succession, causing the Neural Thorn to contract slightly, then stretch out smoothly.
Pea’s neck briefly trembled, yet no discomfort appeared on her face.
Pittman straightened up, glancing at Byron, who stepped forward nervously, and then turned back to Pea.
"We’ve installed a small speech device in your Neural Thorn—you can try ’speaking’ now. Focus your attention, clearly visualize what you want to say. It might be challenging at first, but I believe you’ll quickly manage..."
Pea hesitated, turning her head, seemingly still adapting to the novel sensation at the back of her neck. Then, with furrowed brows, she concentrated as instructed by Pittman, sketching the words she wished to say in her mind.
A peculiar, indistinct noise emanated from the Neural Thorn on her nape.
Then ca a second bout of noise, with fragnts of scattered syllables seemingly mixed in.
Pea attempted a few more tis; finally, the syllables began forming progressively, and the noise gradually subsided.
She took a deep breath, refocusing her attention, then fixed her gaze on Byron beside her.
A clear yet fragnted voice ca through to the Knight nearing fifty: "...Dad... thank you..."
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