In the shattered pale library, the fragments of history sent forth hollow howls that continuously swept across the collapsed columns and walls, in the boundless dark chaos where the library's boundaries surged uneasily.
Then, all this turbulence halted in an instant.
As if time were reversing, the crumbled and shattered shelves and scattered scrolls and stone tablets swiftly reset, with a vortex of history fragments rewinding to its original state. Amidst the towering, restored bookshelves, Baili Qing's silhouette wavered like a water reflection, reorganizing and swiftly regaining a solid form.
Behind her, within the shattered light and shadow fragments, there remained a lingering shadow of disturbance, as if countless struggling illusions were trying to squeeze out from that phantom realm, accompanied by layered moans—
"Save us! We are still alive, we are still alive..."
"Everything outside is false... the truth is imprisoned here, turn back, quickly turn back..."
