"You're saying that frail-looking man just now had the ability to traverse different worlds?"** Luo Nanchuan's eyes narrowed, his sharp gaze hidden behind the darkened lenses of his switched-off glasses.
"Yes. It's a divine ability. Among implant bearers, such individuals are exceedingly rare,"** the Reptilian replied, its pupils shifting with eerie lifelessness.
"You will chase after divine power," the Reptilian added.
Luo Nanchuan smiled, the fire of life burning in his eyes. *When it comes to survival, we all find ways to tilt the odds in our favor.*
Now that he had obtained the implant, he would never sit idle.
The Reptilian read Luo Nanchuan's thoughts and couldn't help but admire him. His drive came from survival and conquest—even in the face of such a destabilizing revelation, his resolve remained unshaken.
As the variables grew more complex, the permutations of the game delighted its orchestrator.
The term **"free will"** held no currency in the cosmos.
For higher-dimensional beings, this was common knowledge. But for humans, the rare glimmers of brilliance that flickered amidst their struggles were precious in the grand sweep of history.
Night fell over City Z. The dim light in Luo Nanchuan's room cast shadows over the bandages wrapped around his left hand. He could no longer remember whether the wound came from clutching that crystal in his dreams or from the thorns of a blue rose.
**Navis.**
He wrote the name in smooth strokes with his fountain pen, the nib retracting sharply, like a sheathed blade.
The crystal—he stubbornly clung to that memory. In the tangled mess of his life, if only things could be cleanly split into black and white. The thought always made him resent the recollection of those days in Atlantis, working alongside artisans to cut gems from the ocean floor.
*How beautiful they were.* Even by today's standards, the precision of those cuts and craftsmanship was unmatched. He had secretly hidden those crystals away, and when he returned, Pearla was already deep in sleep. He fastened one around her neck with a delicate silver chain. In the dim glow of the room, the flickering light on the gemstone always made him smile faintly.
Using Atlantis' lost crystal-cutting techniques, he had carved out a place for himself in the modern world of commerce—all by the age of 26.
The flood of nighttime memories always filled him with self-loathing.
The Reptilian had become his mirror. Unlike Liu Yun's romantic idealism or Ge Tianci's detached neutrality, Luo Nanchuan had long since internalized the brutal laws of survival between civilizations from the Reptilian's words.
In this vast, dark universe, there was no good or evil. The dimensions of survival were never abundant—if they were, there would be no endless waves of so-called "stronger" forces. He knew all too well the fate of those crushed beneath them.
Atlantis always made him hesitate. The crystals stoked his hatred, yet they also granted him clarity. *If the ancient city is gone, then I'll design the next great conflict myself.*
Liu Yun spent less and less time with Ge Tianci. Her paintings had gained widespread acclaim, and wealth poured in like a tide. Ge Tianci had worried she might leave him outright, but she seemed oblivious, only growing more devout in her communion with the higher-dimensional gods—to the point of worship.
Her faith in those deities deepened, fueling ever more explosive creativity. Ge Tianci often feared that such intensity would consume her like a flame burning too bright. Liu Yun was like a pale rose—he didn't want to see the day she withered away.
**"The implant is active. To be precise, it's issued a task."** It had been nearly half a month since Ge Tianci last saw Liu Yun.
Her smile was still as comforting as the clouds, though her face seemed paler now.
**"I will follow its guidance,"** she told him, still taking small bites of lemon mousse cake.
Another sunset came. Ge Tianci asked about the implant's task.
**"Don't worry about anything else. Pour all your energy into painting. Whatever I want, I can have it instantly."**
Ge Tianci frowned. Last time, she had told him that by focusing entirely on the present world, one could freely traverse others.
**"Then… how many will you paint?"** His voice trembled slightly.
Liu Yun didn't answer. Instead, she pulled him close and gave him a mysterious smile, the sunset still glowing against her glass-like face.
**"Promise me… don't abuse divine power…"** Her voice was suddenly soft, drowsy, as she leaned against his shoulder.
*"Fragile as colored glass, fleeting as the clouds."* The phrase surfaced in Ge Tianci's mind unbidden.
Then, in his dream—no, in another parallel world—blood began to seep from Liu Yun's eyes.
She gripped a kelp-like creature, her slender arms straining against its massive tentacles, even as blood dripped from the corner of her mouth:
**"You lied. This was never the task. Your real goal was to drag us all into your game!"**
She shook it violently, her face deathly pale. The creature's tentacles snapped and regrew instantly, leaving it unharmed. It said nothing.
Time, that one-way variable of three-dimensional space, left Liu Yun with no choice but to fade.
*The observer does not interfere; the interferer does not observe.*
Which meant Ge Tianci could not enter the world where Liu Yun was.
Once, he had harbored countless beautiful illusions about her—like clouds, like bubbles, like the explosive interplay of hormones, like the romantic tableaus of life. *But nothing stays as it was in youth.*
Despair engulfed him. He refused to accept this outcome.
The lingering aftereffects of the Martian virus, mingled with his grief, sent him into a coughing fit. In his daze, "Smiley Face" morphed once more into a towering Reptilian, its shadow enveloping him entirely.
*The flesh suffers, lies burn.*
*The truth is cold, yet we've long grown numb.*
Luo Nanchuan adjusted his red-lensed glasses. The marks of all implant bearers shone with unnatural clarity.
**"Are you certain about this?"**
**"Yes. I only need one day."**
The Reptilian's eyes gleamed with mockery, its yellow-green gaze oozing dark amusement. Its lips curled back, revealing rows of jagged teeth.
Without hesitation, Luo Nanchuan snatched the blue pill from the Reptilian's hand and swallowed it.
He wasn't ignorant of the cost. On the contrary—he was all too aware. **Every deal struck in pursuit of the divine comes with a price, etched in invisible ink.**
And divine power? **It was always a transaction with unmarked stakes…**
Unbeknownst to him, a greater curtain had already fallen across the sky. No gathering storm, no clash of wills, no intertwining of sympathy and defiance—just an expanse of cold silence, surrounded by floating stellar debris, the remnants of civilizations obliterated in interstellar wars. In their presence, all else seemed child's play.
The impermanence and existence of every spark was mirrored by an opposing, desperate hunger for survival. And in this contest of death, every glimmer of light was a mockery—both of demise and, in its silence, of life itself.
Planets orbited one another in pairs. For those caught in the game, **collision was only a matter of time…**