"On the fifth day, I swear on Rules..."
"On the sixth day, I swear on Meaning..."
Sunday continued his proclamation, and the Martyr remained silent, listening intently and absorbing each word. A suspicion began to form in his mind: Christianity?
In his quest to find "God," the Martyr had studied the doctrines of every church. What Sunday was reciting now bore a striking resemblance to passages from the Old Testament.
Yet there was a crucial difference. In the Old Testament, God created the heavens, the earth, and all living things—sun, moon, and stars—in six days. But Sunday's six days focused entirely on humanity:
Truth, Calendar, Language, Value, Rules, and Meaning.
The divergence deepened as Sunday continued:
"It was not you who created all things. It was Humanity that created you!"
"On the seventh day, I swear of Human Dignity"
This marked the most significant departure from the Old Testament. In the Bible, God completed his creation in six days and rested on the seventh, establishing the Sabbath—a day of rest and worship.
But here, on Sunday, within the game, defeating an opponent allowed one to find "Someone's Lost Item," which clearly explained the meaning of the Seventh Day.
On the Seventh Day, humanity discovered they were mere puppets of the Aeon. United as one, they cast the Aeon into the pit of destruction and slew THEM.
Human dignity, strictly speaking, was not bestowed by the Aeons but earned through humanity's own struggle.
Therefore, from beginning to end, Sunday never intended to resurrect the Aeon. He merely borrowed and manipulated the power of Order to fulfill his long-cherished ambition.
The Martyr listened intently, carefully considering every word Sunday spoke, like a devout believer. Until the golden figure extended his hand toward the sky.
"Let your divine form lay the foundation for our paradise!"
"Oh, Ena...May you return!"
Everyone could see a colossal golden halo materializing in the sky. Within it, a hand slowly emerged, its palm pristine white (representing Ena) and its thumb shimmering with a starry purple (representing Xipe).
"This is..." At that moment, the Martyr's eyes widened. No special perception was needed; anyone witnessing this scene could feel the overwhelming aura of divinity radiating from it.
"Is this... God?" The Martyr extended his right hand toward the sky, even contemplating ordering the dragon beside him to carry him aloft for a closer look. But at that moment, all the dragons perched on the platform of the Penacony Grand Theater lay prostrate and motionless, while those circling overhead plummeted like dumplings to the ground.
In the next instant, Sunday's hand made contact.
There was no explosion, no sound.
In that split second, all existence ceased.
In the distance, Robin and her companions watched as the landscape before them fractured into a dense network of hairline cracks, the entire world shattering like glass.
Instinctively raising her arm to shield herself, Robin quickly found herself back in the real world, standing by the roadside outside the Bureau of Anomalous Investigations.
Without hesitation, she turned and sprinted toward the Bureau. Upon arrival, the first thing she saw was Zhong Wanhong and his two companions standing in a line, with a dark figure lying motionless on the ground.
"He's dead," Zhong Wanhong stated bluntly as he noticed Robin.
The instant the Primordial Creation was witnessed, its unparalleled power swept through the entire Illusionary Realm.
Even though this was merely a flawed, incomplete version of the Primordial Creation, it annihilated the entire realm, along with its very foundation—the Martyr's own ability—and his life.
"Your brother... he really..." Lü Heng's expression shifted repeatedly, as if he were struggling to find the right words.
A mere phantom within the Illusionary Realm had effortlessly slain one of the world's most powerful individuals.
Yes, effortlessly.
Anyone who had witnessed the entire battle would surely reach the same conclusion.
"Uh... so, you've gone missing. Your brother must be terribly worried about you, right? Do you think he'll come looking for you directly?"
After all, even without much interaction with him, any reasonable person could sense how deeply he valued Robin.
When speaking to Lü Heng and the others, Sunday's demeanor was lukewarm, bordering on indifference. But when addressing Robin, his tone softened into gentle calmness.
Lü Heng could easily imagine the scene: after a brief inquiry to learn who had wronged his sister, Sunday would have wasted no time in hunting down the culprit and slaughtering them. What a total siscon.
He pictured Sunday disguised, sneaking into his sister's concert, then spotting haters in the crowd. Without hesitation, he'd drag them into a deserted alley and beat them to a pulp.
Traveling to another world seemed impossible at first glance, but then Lü Heng remembered the arm that had reached down from the sky. He shivered involuntarily. Maybe nothing's impossible anymore.
Perhaps dimensional travel was only impossible for those in their world due to insufficient knowledge, technology, and power. But... who knew what that powerful benefactor could accomplish?
"This... it shouldn't be possible," Robin said, shaking her head. If she were the real Robin, Sunday might go to great lengths to find her. But she was just an imitation.
As they spoke, Robin glanced at the Martyr. His eyes were tightly shut, and he lay motionless on the ground, yet the corners of his mouth were upturned in a faint, almost imperceptible smile.
Perhaps the Aeon Ena summoned by Sunday wasn't the same god who granted the Martyr his power. Then again, the Martyr himself remembered nothing of the Aeon's attributes; it was all just a hazy dream.
Regardless, he had fulfilled his lifelong obsession. Though the price was death, he had paid it willingly.
Zhong Wanhong sighed heavily. "This is troublesome. A member of the Eight have died in the Dragon Nation. That's far from good news."
While the incident was entirely White Eagle's fault, the critical point was the outcome.
Originally, the Dragon Nation should have been demanding an explanation from White Eagle. Now, the tables had turned, and White Eagle would undoubtedly demand an explanation from the Dragon Nation.
"How serious is this?" Robin asked.
"Not too serious," Zhong Wanhong replied. "At most, it'll be a hassle."
After all, the Dragon Nation had committed no wrongdoing. White Eagle couldn't possibly use this as an excuse to extort concessions.
Still, it was predictable that White Eagle and the Dragon Nation would engage in heated diplomatic sparring on the international stage for the foreseeable future.