The Human Emperor tried once again to contact one of the incarnations Daniel had left behind in this world.
But each of those incarnations acted like puppets on strings—executing only pre-programmed orders, completely unresponsive to any attempts at communication.
In an instant, all the pressure that had once been shouldered by Daniel now fell squarely back onto the Human Emperor's shoulders.
"I really thought," the emperor muttered to himself, "that with this Thousand-Year Apocalypse, my role had finally come to an end… I could finally enjoy retirement."
"But it seems I'll have to keep going after all."
A faint smile of helplessness appeared on his face, but it quickly faded. A moment later, his expression grew grim and serious. Humanity was on the brink of extinction—he couldn't afford to show even the slightest sign of weakness.
Immediately, the Human Emperor issued a global command—an imperial edict bearing his seal.
