Gamma-ray burst.
Considered to be the most intense explosion in the universe, lasting from a thousandth of a second to one hour, theoretically produced by dying massive stars or near-dense stellar mergers, the energy released is roughly tens of times that of a supernova.
Gamma-ray bursts are a rather common astronomical phenomenon; almost every day in the universe, there is a gamma burst occurring, lighting up the cosmos like uninterrupted street lamps. Unfortunately, the lifeforms on planets illuminated by these cosmic streetlights are struck by an extinction-level event. Even more unfortunate is the fact that gamma bursts occur at regular intervals, and the Milky Way Galaxy is no exception.
Death Star still maintained that same posture; the leather on his arms had deformed, resembling charred asphalt draped over his wrist, emitting a burnt sizzling sound.
There was no smell of well-cooked human flesh, and although the scene was gruesome, Lyle still felt relieved that the people around him were alright, perhaps with just a few more percentage points of radiation in the surrounding atmosphere.
Mr. Death Star did not meet a heroic end; he simply stood back up as if nothing had happened, unconcerned about the discomfort where his arms tightly clung to his body. Facing several dozen eyes fixed on him, he said, "As you can see, Advanced Magic Research may be much more interesting than you imagined... "
"..."
"The Death Star Fraction is a rather fanatic discipline within Advanced Magic Research. The danger of the experiments should not be overlooked. Even if you're vigilant with every step you take, you can't avoid the possibility of accidentally dying in the next moment. To respond to Andrey's pedagogical principle, of inheritance and continuity, we researchers must ensure that there are successors before we conduct certain relevant experiments. My teacher, Death Star I, did just that. I personally witnessed him being devoured while studying the Red-Hot Grenade."
"The reason I joined this recruitment session is that I hope to find an apprentice among you."
"Destroying the Death Light, in fact, was just a failed semi-finished product. A relatively concentrated immense energy directly collapsed the celestial spell framework designed by our president, and the half-finished celestial body broke apart, discharging its energy in a beam-like fashion. As long as you maintain the right posture," Death Star replicated the flower-shaped gesture of his hands, "you can control the direction."
"I've recently improved the energy threshold of the simulated celestial bodies. Now, all I need is a lucky individual to inherit my knowledge. Is there anyone eager to volunteer?"
Lyle was astonished. The self-destructive tendency the gentleman spoke of was evident. According to Death Star's descriptions, it seemed like this madman wanted to conjure a black hole with his bare hands; perhaps soon, we would welcome the arrival of Mr. Death Star III. With Death Star's seemingly reckless demeanor, Lyle didn't believe anyone would accompany him on his lunacy.
"Excuse me, sir, how can I become the successor of the Death Star Fraction?" Incredibly, it happened, and the number of people was not small.
"A sufficient foundational knowledge and a pair of hands filled with dark matter."
"?" Lyle looked at Death Star's hands displayed before everyone, always thinking those excessively black hands were some kind of disguise by magic. Only now, being reminded, he noticed that Death Star's hands underwent no camouflage, the deep black knuckles were slender, as if composed of bones alone with a mist-like substance, seemingly with a conscious will, dissipating from the fingertips. Those were hands that would cause discomfort to any layperson who saw them.
"There is a Magic Conduction Device in Advanced Magic Research, capable of generating a Dark Matter Tide. Just need to put your palms in it for a thorough rinse a few dozen times, and that should be sufficient."
"If you're lucky, maybe a few times will be enough, because the reconstruction of scrapped limbs takes a considerable amount of time. If your bone structure is of the Void Element, which has an affinity for the Dark Element, it's not impossible to succeed in one go."
To cultivate this incredible power, one must first be prepared to risk their hands.
It seemed that irreversible magical alterations were also necessary for the hands. Lyle mentally crossed off Advanced Magic Research.
Just as Mr. Death Star was enthusiastically interacting with his potential future apprentices.
The door of the recruitment event swung open. The door, struck by a powerful force, slammed against the wall with a tortured creak from the iron hinges.
A large light bulb entered from outside the door.
It was Mr. Raymond, emitting a blinding radiance.
It must have been the dean who noticed the commotion caused by the Destroying Death Light, his own castle being pierced with a skylight — he would be in a rush for sure.
The dean stood behind Raymond, his face a mask of shock as he regarded the hole above the recruitment event, his left hand habitually touching the beard that wasn't there.
Knock, knock, knock.
It was Miss Eliane.
Her Iron Maiden also appeared on the third floor; she may have encountered no obstacles while climbing the stairs.
The feminine statue atop the Iron Maiden seemed to have turned golden.
The first one to react was Mr. Raymond.
He did not return to his own booth; Lyle even saw the reporter hastily tidying up his parchment scrolls, stooping to hide behind the Literary Society's black drapes.
Raymond scanned around and eventually fixed his gaze on the Advanced Magic Research area; Lyle had the illusion that Raymond's gaze, as if penetrating through the slits in the helmet, was fixed upon him.
Scouting evil.
Was it because he had skipped class?
Lyle watched the giant ball of Holy Light hurling towards his side, his expression relaxed, after all, he was unscathed, and he was still considering what kind of lying posture he should maintain next to appear less embarrassing.
The Holy Light fell.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud.
That was the sound of people's heads knocking against the ground.
Mr. Death Star and his watcher stumbled, even astronomy had to shiver in the presence of the Holy Light.
The gentleman knelt on one knee.
It seemed that the ability to endure Holy Light was related to one's own level.
As Lyle considered this, he forgot that he was still standing in the midst of the Holy Light.
The old people around him looked at Lyle in the light, just like Raymond.
"Another Purifier!"
It was Raymond's laughter that interrupted Lyle's thoughts.
"Holy Light eternal! Hahahaha, just like Sister Eliane said, Plague Doctor, you are a Purifier."
Looking at Raymond who suddenly appeared before him, taller and broader by a head, Lyle realized he really was a jinx.
The feeling towards Raymond was terrible.
It was like the sun focusing all its brightness on you, a sense of oppression made Lyle instinctively take a step back.
He could feel everyone's eyes on him, he was just a step away from social death.
"Plague Doctor, join the Holy Light Almighty Sect, return to the embrace of the Lord. Join me, join Sister Eliane, it is the ultimate glory."
So, it was Eliane who sold me out, Lyle glanced at the distant Iron Maiden, apparently not someone he could afford to be angry with.
Then he looked again at the deity before him.
Holy Light was really toxic.
Agreeing was out of the question, he already knew he wouldn't be the favorite child of Holy Light, and besides, looking at the gaze of people around, just by saying yes, he probably couldn't live in peace in Andrey.
But could you dare to say no to a knife at your throat?
The gentleman stood up.
"Mr. Raymond, Mr. Plague Doctor is already a member of the Cup of Luxury."
The Cup of Luxury seemed to dim Raymond's thoughtless glow a bit.
It appeared to have a miraculous effect.
"Joining the Cup of Luxury shouldn't affect the faith in Holy Light, should it..."
"Raymond, Mr. Plague Doctor's situation is not stable, he needs to be fully committed."
"...Then why not let the Plague Doctor fill in an application form for the sect at my place, we can talk about it."
"There's nothing to discuss."