Chapter 219: The End of the Era, Little Grey’s Final Footsteps
The coldness unique to steel slowly faded from Rast’s skin……
Even though Emis still maintained the motion of gently tapping herself with her fingertips, that intimate sensation of skin touching skin had already vanished, unable to be felt any longer.
At the same time, he clearly saw the girl’s figure before his eyes becoming even more hazy and illusory—
She had already shifted from a once real and distinct body, within reach, to a bubble-like phantom.
Not just Emis.
Rast slightly lifted his head and saw around himself and Dean Silver, that veil-like nightfall was also gradually descending, along with the distortion of light and shadow.
This was the backlash of the 「Corrective Force of History」.
If the already-established events that had truly happened in the past within the River of Time were what was called “correct history”—
Then, what Rast and Dean Silver were currently experiencing in the Echo of History of the Sixth Era was what one would call “wrong history.”
To the River of Time, whether it was Emis, who should have lost control and triggered the “Disaster of the Mechanists,” or Rast and Dean Silver, who had intruded into the Sixth Era—these were all impurities that had deviated from the original trajectory… They were entities that should be purged, corrected, and returned to the proper timeline.
However, at that moment—
A sound came from the far darkness above…
It was the sound of wings fluttering—
Steel wings that blotted out the sky and sun, formed from the metallic particles of the ruined remains of the entire Watchtower.
Clearly, Emis’ figure was so delicate. Other than certain parts of her body exhibiting obvious mechanization, the rest was no different from an actual human girl… Yet atop the dome behind her, those steel wings were vast enough to obscure the clear, bright moon.
As the steel wings flapped, some invisible yet boundless power was stirred by Emis and descended upon the ruins, causing the entire remnants of the Watchtower to tremble and emit a resonant hum.
That black nightfall which had been descending, aiming to engulf Dean Silver and Rast—dragging them away from the Nightworld and the Echo of History to return to the Present World—also came to a halt under the influence of that power.
It froze in place, unable to advance another inch.
That was the law known as “Judgment,” a rule only an angel of the Judgment Sequence like Emis could invoke—one that could even suspend the effect of the “Corrective Force of History.”
However, such an act evidently consumed a great deal of Emis’ strength……
Her already hazy and indistinct form now further dissipated, nearly transparent, almost impossible to see clearly.
“With the remaining power I possess, I won’t be able to hold on for much longer.”
“The ‘Corrective Force’ from history is something no extraordinary being can resist. As long as the impurities intruding into correct history remain, the backlash of the correction will also persist.”
“To put it in your own words, Rast—the Corrective Force of History is like those NPC cops in Grand Theft Auto. As long as you’ve got a wanted level, they’ll relentlessly chase after you, kill one and more will come, the higher the stars the better their equipment… Unless they drag you into the police station themselves, they’ll never stop.”
“So, while the wanted level—meaning the backlash of the correction—isn’t too intense yet… I’ll use the last of my strength to send you to the end of this Era.”
“Of course, at the end of this Era, a true battle of angels may break out… Relying solely on my power, having crossed a vast span of time, I absolutely can’t protect you in that angelic war.”
“Therefore, for your safety, you and Dean Silver can only stay within the River of Time and watch the scene unfold as spectators. You must not intervene.”
Hearing Emis’ calm voice, Rast paused slightly in surprise.
It was after being trapped in the Same Day Time Loop of Deep Blue Port that he had awakened memories of his previous life.
These black terms from that life—like Grand Theft Auto—were things he had only confided to Xiao Ai in Canaan after getting stuck there.
But at that time, the true Emis should have already entered a dormant state after Ascending as an Angel.
This was the issue that had lingered in Rast’s heart ever since he saw Little Grey’s Memory-Crystal and listened to her personally spoken truth—one that he had been reluctant to face—
The Emis living in Canaan, nestled in the Rift Between Dimensions between the Nightworld and the Present World, and the blonde girl who stood before him now, having completed the Artificial Angel Project and achieved Angelhood… Were they truly the same being?
Or was it, as mentioned in the recording Little Grey left him earlier, merely “a Bionic AI generated through language model training based on Emis’ vast language data, possessing all of Emis’ memories and personality”?
And now, at the very moment the girl uttered words like “Grand Theft Auto” and “wanted level,” Rast finally understood the answer.
“The Emis in Canaan was, of course, also me……”
“Just as I said earlier—angels possess an overbearing uniqueness. At every single moment in the River of Time, there is only one Emis.”
“It’s just that, all this time, I sealed my own memories of Angelhood so you wouldn’t learn the truth too early. I only left behind the memories of my time in Canaan.”
As if seeing straight into Rast’s thoughts, Emis’ voice rang out again.
“This was a lie jointly crafted by me and Sister Little Grey—a lie to protect you before your wings had fully matured.”
“All these years, I’ve been waiting… Waiting for you to break free from your Shackles, to cross through the dense fog, to grow up at last, and reach the moment you could uncover all the truths.”
Her voice paused slightly as she stared directly into Rast’s eyes.
“After all, just like you, Rast—I’m also a rather possessive person.”
“As long as even the slightest shred of hope remains, the tiniest sliver of possibility… how could I ever allow myself to be replaced by a Bionic AI? Let an artificial being stay by your side in my stead?”
“So Rast, you can rest assured.”
“Until we truly reunite in the Present World… I absolutely won’t allow myself to die so easily.”
Listening to the voice echoing from deep within his soul, the final trace of hesitation in Rast’s heart finally vanished without a trace.
He glanced at Dean Silver nearby. “So, Dean Silver—you want to see the end of the Sixth Era too?”
“Duh. We’ve come this far step by step……”
“Even if just to avoid being tormented by a cliffhanger author, I have to watch the final scene of the Sixth Era play out.”
Dean Silver flicked her tail. “I have no objections.”
……
Boom——
Those steel wings that blotted out the sky stirred once again.
Only, this time, it was no longer to protect Dean Silver and Rast, but purely to kill and destroy.
The so-called “Judgment” was, from the start, a Sequence of pure destruction and verdict.
Before the rule of “Judgment” that extinguished all things, even the once unshakable time and space were torn open in an instant.
That was a rupture across hundreds and thousands of years of time—a gap that directly led downstream through the River of Time to another temporal node. It existed for only one ten-thousandth of a second before being erased by the corrective force.
However, to Rast, even just that one ten-thousandth of a second… was already enough.
A roaring thunder boomed once again, as if a Divine Punishment from an enraged Order of the World… In the distant skies, the murky heavens seemed to have been torn open for a brief moment.
But, when the thunder faded, and those majestic angelic wings unfurled once more—
Beneath the wings of steel, Rast and Dean Silver had already completely vanished without a trace.
……
Beside him, all the scenery was shifting in radiant, kaleidoscopic brilliance.
To Rast, this was far from his first traversal through time and space.
Every time he had entered the Nightworld and the Echo of History before, it had in fact been a process of crossing the River of Time.
But at that time, he was acting as a Black Night Traveler, relying on the power of the Nightworld to traverse time and space… Always shrouded in that veil of night like a gauzy mist—that was the protection of the Nightworld’s power.
The immense power of the Nightworld allowed even first or second-tier Black Night Travelers to cross the River of Time like angels, without suffering any erosion or wear.
However—this time was different.
It was not through the Nightworld’s protection, but by Emis personally tearing through time and space with her own hands, using her power as a Judgment Angel to send them to a point in the future beyond even the current Echo of History—
That is, the end of the Sixth Era.
Precisely because Rast was already powerful enough at this moment, he even had the leisure to glance at the surrounding landscape.
Even if it was like radiant brilliance, an image shifting constantly at extreme speeds, with Rast’s current eyesight, he could still extract useful information from it—
The outbreak of the Disaster of the Mechanists; all intelligent machines within human society rebelled… Fortunately, due to the advance emergency protocols prepared by the Shoreguards, most of humanity successfully evacuated to shelters within sub-dimensions, preserving their remaining strength.
Decades later, the berserk will of the Judgment Holy Grail was once again suppressed by Emis, and thus, the Disaster of the Mechanists was finally declared over—
People left the shelters in the sub-dimensions and returned to the Western Continent. Although, with a highly developed transcendent system in place, the shelters had achieved self-sustaining loops allowing long-term habitation… the Western Continent was, after all, their homeland.
After the end of the Disaster of the Mechanists came a nearly century-long period of gradual development.
Because of that previous disaster, human society began to deeply question artificial intelligence and the heavily internet-dependent technological system.
Thus, the previously soaring and rapidly advancing tech tree slowed down… The mainstream belief in human society became that it was better to halt progress than to allow another Disaster of the Mechanists to occur.
Still, even so, science continued progressing—just more slowly and cautiously.
If that trend had continued, then one day, humanity would still be able to once again achieve a leap forward in technology—perhaps even to the point of creating interstellar spacecraft capable of traveling across star systems. The colonization of outer space would no longer be far off.
But—
It was precisely at that node.
Rast saw clearly that all the surrounding images dimmed and faded into complete darkness.
The once multicolored, thriving vision of civilization vanished—
Only a dead silent world remained.
……
This was a desolate and colorless land.
The gray and white tones stretched endlessly, seemingly covering the entire world.
One couldn’t help but associate it with a thousand-li-wide desert wasteland. Yet, even deserts have oases, whereas this land held nothing—
Only those broken fragments of architecture buried beneath the ashen sand… could prove that this place wasn’t some barren alien planet or pocket dimension, but the Western Continent where civilization once flourished.
Beneath this colorless wasteland was buried a prosperous metropolis that had once truly existed, capable of housing tens of millions of people.
“Here lies the end of the Sixth Era—”
“In other words…”
“The place where Grey… left her final footprints?”
Rast gazed at the surroundings and murmured softly.
He felt that his current state was like that of a ghost, able to clearly witness what was happening before him, but lacking a physical form, thus incapable of interfering.
To put it in human words—it was something you could only look at, but not touch.
According to Emis, this was to prevent them from being affected by the aftershocks of an angelic battle. They were merely spectators, witnessing what had already occurred.
“Judging by the surrounding environment, the Final Catastrophe at the end of the Era must have already taken place—”
“What’s left now… is nothing but ruins.”
Dean Silver peeked out from behind Rast’s shoulder, voicing her own commentary.
“These ruins and wreckage aren’t much to look at. What we really need to see is—what Little Grey ultimately left behind in this world.”
Just as those words fell—
In the next moment, Rast saw Grey—that girl with long grey hair.
She still looked exactly as he remembered, wearing the standard-issue hooded cloak unique to the Shoreguards of the Dark Age.
But the once emerald eyes, bright and full of vitality, now held an unspeakable exhaustion and fatigue.
She walked across this colorless grey earth, upon the remnants of human civilization, like a Wandering Spirit with no home to return to.