As the illustration neared completion, Rita found her understanding of rules growing deeper and deeper.
Perhaps the fact that both Starsea and Quiet Mountain were overflowing with gas had never been coincidence in the first place.
Just as Divine Ga itself could only distribute rewards through ga settlent chanics, everything within this mysterious realm revolved around rules.
A ga was fundantally simple.
Establish rules.
Complete objectives.
Receive rewards.
This vast world operated the sa way.
Even after obtaining part of the authority, Rita still had to obey the rules.
When using items, skills, or relics, she still consud mana and soul fire.
She could not permanently alter a player’s attributes, talents, or number of fatal weaknesses.
She could not directly edit her own skills or item descriptions either.
But she could establish rules.
And issue quests.
At its core, this was still a transaction.
The inability to erase fatal weaknesses did not an they could not be altered or transferred.
Rita could clearly feel that this World Sigh illustration had beco part of her existence itself, just like soul fire and World Sigh.
They were inseparable.
So while painting, Rita transferred all four of her fatal weaknesses into the puzzle fragnts of the illustration.
Every day, the weaknesses shifted randomly between pieces.
Right now there were only five thousand puzzle fragnts.
Once the illustration was complete, there would be ten thousand possibilities.
Still, Rita occasionally found herself stuck.
For example, Lania Kaia.
This world had not shattered.
It had remained an invading victor from beginning to end.
So how was she supposed to paint its sigh?
Unlike Tingo, whose greatest lant was the wind whale itself.
Unlike Dawn and Winter Sea, whose inhabitants beca destroyers spreading suffering and catastrophe to other worlds, only to perish before the final bell under the revenge of the Vineborne and Sharkfin Clan.
And unlike Nuclear Flash, which shattered and was reborn.
In the end, Mistblade gave her inspiration.
Mistblade sat casually on the armrest of Rita’s chair, looking over the mountain of discarded drafts scattered across the table before softly saying,
"Paint his Sinblood."
So Rita painted endless white bones.
At the end of the sea of skeletons stood a blood red throne.
Empty.
How long was one hundred years?
Long enough for nearly a hundred Divine Ga players to completely comprehend their divine talent words.
Long enough for Nivalis, under Foolishness’s instruction, to defeat Holy Cup within minutes.
Long enough for everyone to heal old regrets.
Long enough for ambitious people to grow restless and begin hating peace itself.
And long enough for Rita to finish ten thousand paintings and finally piece together a complete Starsea and Quiet Mountain as they existed today.
Right now she was sketching the abandoned machinery of the Scrap Heap.
Destroyed chanical corpses piled together into mountains of steel.
Who could have imagined this might be the hidden mastermind behind Starsea’s tragedy?
B80 sat quietly on Rita’s shoulder watching.
Nearby, Deceitful Bloom had also stopped painting and turned her attention toward the canvas.
After the initial excitent faded, fewer and fewer people constantly hovered around Rita to see what she was painting.
After all, everyone could see the results whenever a puzzle piece rged into World Sigh.
But only B80 and Deceitful Bloom stayed beside her from beginning to end.
Rita painted for one hundred years.
Those two watched for one hundred years.
Deceitful Bloom even moved all her teaching hours to nightti.
Nivalis frequently returned to BS to play mahjong.
Sotis she joined Smoke Tune in Sanchez’s street racing tournants.
Other tis she participated in the esports competitions Rita arranged specifically for her.
Cinders spent several hours every day back in Isolated Isle teaching students.
That was her hobby.
Lightchaser occasionally sat nearby to watch Rita paint too.
But if she stayed longer than three hours, she would inevitably start arguing with Deceitful Bloom.
Unbelievably enough, Lightchaser actually lost those argunts.
Mistblade imrsed herself in studying while redesigning BS’s Snowland district according to the historical records Rita provided.
Maple Syrup balanced studying with handling her increasingly complicated mother daughter relationship.
Foolishness was a master of ti managent.
She seed to possess invisible informants everywhere.
Every single ti Rita finished a painting, Foolishness would appear silently behind her within minutes, quietly admire the work, then disappear again.
Cicada alternated endlessly between Starsea Deceitful Bloom’s classes and QM Deceitful Bloom’s classes.
Whenever neither of them was teaching, she was searching for Smoke Tune.
As for Quex, she almost never ca.
Rita’s painting area was too quiet for her.
Year after year passed.
In the end, only Deceitful Bloom and B80 witnessed the birth of every single painting.
And now, this final Scrap Heap piece depicted the mont Rita first found B80 atop the chanical ruins.
She even painted herself into it.
A tiny figure standing before the massive Scrap Heap, head tilted upward as though searching for sothing.
"BS has many gas."
Rita’s brush moved lightly and steadily, matching the calmness of her voice.
Deceitful Bloom and B80 both waited quietly for her to continue.
"In those gas, we call characters that players cannot control NPCs."
"NPCs interact with players."
"They provide items, skills, and assistance."
"They make gas feel more alive."
"But most of the ti, NPCs are untouchable."
"Because their purpose is to serve players."
"Even when an NPC betrays a player, that betrayal still exists to enhance the story and improve the player experience."
Deceitful Bloom cooperatively asked,
"And then?"
Rita answered,
"Gas contain conflict."
"They contain quests."
"But players usually share one unspoken understanding."
"NPCs do not casually harm players."
"And if they do..."
"There must be a reason."
Her final brushstroke landed.
At the top of the Scrap Heap, she painted a small robot.
On its body she wrote a designation:
B8023461.
The entire painting lit up.
At the sa mont, World Sigh floating beside Rita slowly opened.
The pages turned past the prologue, revealing the illustration missing only one final piece.
"I’m looking forward to hearing that reason."
No emotion could be heard within Rita’s voice as she spoke.
Then the final puzzle fragnt shot toward the empty space within the illustration.
And the instant that last fragnt completed the artwork inside World Sigh, every living being in Starsea and Quiet Mountain simultaneously felt flas ignite between their brows.
An invisible wind seed to guide the fire.
The flas all bent toward the sa direction.
Everyone instinctively raised their heads toward the sky.
As though sothing existed there that all life could not help but revere.
The complete illustration, ford from ten thousand worlds into one Starsea and Quiet Mountain, beca the very first image visible upon opening World Sigh.
It was also the perfect embodint of the entire book.
Within this single illustration existed every sigh recorded in the pages.
And also every story left unrecorded beyond those sighs.
Without needing any inspection at all, information naturally surfaced inside Rita’s mind.
[Ga Invasion] (Authority)
[Ga Invasion] (Authority): You seem capable of deciding certain things. For example, the future of this galaxy.
Before Rita could fully understand what that description truly ant, a sound echoed from the distant Order Clock she had sealed and frozen for a hundred years.
Sothing inside it cracked.
The Order Clock had broken free from her suppression?
Not only that.
Rita suddenly sensed what was coming.
After enduring a century of forced suspension and imprisonnt, the pendulum of order would now strike Quiet Mountain at even greater speed.
Rita cast one final glance toward B80 on her shoulder.
Then she rose to her feet and extended her right hand.
World Sigh descended obediently into her palm.
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