Dark red lightning, like a network, exchanged hundreds of quintillions of information streams every second, layering intricate thought data repeatedly, gradually collapsing human history into a singularity.
Black hole.
Endless information converged to ultimately form a black hole, storing every piece of information it devoured.
If the essence of all things is information, is the universe merely a diorama?
If the entire universe remains unchanged, then what is death?
If the world is just a game, a few lines of code, some poems, and stories, does life and destruction truly not exist?
The universe had never lived.
'Yawen... Yawen...'
Desca kept calling, waking Yawen from her profound dream instantly. Her body was entangled by parachute cords, frozen stiff by the cold wind of the Outer World. Had she not been a "Spirit Medium" with a strong resistance to cold, she might have frozen to death here.
