"Most timelines... eventually lead to destruction..."
The voice of the King of Illusions carries a deep exhaustion: "I have witnessed too many rises and falls... too many shattered hopes..."
"But you..." The scene shifts to Ron himself, whose image stands out brightly amidst countless fragments of broken worlds:
"There is something about you... a quality... a possibility to break the predetermined path..."
The frequency with which images and scenes around him are disturbed becomes more frequent, and Ron feels his consciousness nearing a return to chaos.
This is a sign that the dream is about to end...
Yet at this moment, the King of Illusions throws out another crucial piece of information to him:
"In Wizard history... every change of eras... has been due to the birth of a King of Eras..."
This word strikes Ron’s soul like thunder.
King of Eras... what does that signify?
"Ancestors, Creator, Apocalypse, End of Death... they were all Kings of Eras in their respective epochs..."
Suddenly, the surrounding space reveals a grand and terrifying scene:
Four gigantic figures stand in different corners of the universe, each radiating a greatness beyond comprehension.
They are not ordinary rulers, but some more essential existence.
"Ultimately becoming the cornerstone of maintaining the universe balance..."
In the scene, the four figures gradually integrate into the basic structure of the universe, becoming embodiments of concepts like time, creation, life, death, etc.
This information hits Ron’s consciousness like a heavy hammer.
King of Eras... Four Cornerstones... that means...
"Remember... truly wanting to transcend everything... cannot rely solely on plunder; more important are spreading, exchanging, and passing down..."
With this profound statement, the dream begins to collapse.
Those Floating Islands dissipate like bubbles, and the image of the King of Illusions gradually blurs.
Yet his final words clearly penetrate Ron’s deep consciousness:
"When you’re ready to accept this burden... I will provide the necessary support for you..."
"But remember... becoming the King of Eras... means you will no longer belong to yourself..."
.........
The morning light from Abyssal Observation Station never feels warm.
Through those specially reinforced glass windows, the projected light carries an eerie red-purple tint, a distorted spectrum produced by the friction between the abyssal aura and the atmosphere.
This light striking the skin creates a subtle tingling sensation, as if countless tiny tendrils are softly caressing the blood vessels.
When Ron awakens from deep sleep, he finds that the day is already bright.
The light streaming through reinforced glass windows casts mottled shadows on the laboratory floor.
The environmental control system inside the sleep pod is trying its best to adjust the temperature and humidity to provide him with the most comfortable setting.
But at this moment, his heart churns like a storm.
King of Eras... transcending all... no longer belonging to oneself...
These concepts repeatedly echo in his mind, each holding profound implications.
"If this claim is true..."
Ron slowly sits up, his eyes sparkling with complex expressions:
"Then the path I’m on now ultimately leads not to personal strength, but to some heavier responsibility."
He recalls the destructive scenes seen in the astrology ceremony, remembers the cold corrections of the Anomaly Catcher, thinks of numerous broken civilizations.
If there’s truly something that can break this cycle, perhaps it’s the "King of Eras," as mentioned by the King of Illusions.
But what does that entail?
Giving up personal freedom, shouldering the weight of entire civilization and universe?
Must a Savior sacrifice everything?
Well then, whoever wants such a Savior can have it...
"Let’s not consider such distant matters." Ron forces himself back to the reality layer:
"The urgent task is to enhance strength, perfect research, and... conduct divination."
He remembers the advice from the King of Illusions.
Indeed, as an Astrologer, many of the issues that trouble him can be answered through divination.
Especially regarding the choices for the development of his own lineage, the divination results can be more reliable than any external advice.
"Master... you’re finally awake."
Ailan’s voice comes from the other end of the laboratory, carrying an undisguised relief.
Her emerald green branches gently swaying, those leaves with small dew droplets condensed.
That is the special fluid she secretes when worried.
"You’ve slept for ten hours and thirty-seven minutes."
The Tree Spirit reports with extreme precision, as is her habit, always recording every detail:
"Your breathing rate was a bit unstable during mid-sleep, I’m worried it might be some pollution aftereffect..."
Her voice carries undisguised concern.
Seeing Ron’s prolonged intense research and irregular routine fills the Tree Spirit’s deep heart with worry.
Nearby, Dale also heard the commotion, her silver hair floating like seaweed in the water.
When she transforms into human form and steps out of the pool, the water droplets don’t drip, but instead form a thin protective film on her skin.
Her golden eyes full of anticipation and caution: "Did my lullaby have an effect?"
After conversing with Ailan last night, she used her natural Sea Siren voice to sing a lullaby for Ron throughout the night.
The melodies carry the ocean’s deep tranquility, soothing even the most restless soul.
Ron looks at his two concerned companions before him, and warmth surges in his heart.
He reaches out to gently stroke Dale’s silver hair, feeling its silky smooth touch:
"Indeed, I slept very deeply this time."