Scientists estimate there were around 1,000,000 craters larger than half a mile across and over half a billion larger than 10 meters wide on the moon's surface. These estimates weren't just based on numbers but hinged on defining what qualified as a crater. After all, some were just shallow depressions, while others were jagged scars marking violent impacts from meteors, asteroids, and comets over billions of years.
But that knowledge had been rendered utterly useless.
In mere moments, the moon's surface had been reshaped to such an extent that not a single feature could be compared to what it once was.
The landscape was a catastrophic mess—vast craters gouged out by divine spears and explosions of corrupted magic, smooth plains turned into jagged ravines, and shimmering clouds of moon dust hung in the vacuum like cosmic ghosts.
Surreal stood amidst the devastation, his posture relaxed as if this battlefield were no different than a leisurely stroll through a garden.
Against the odds, he sidestepped effortlessly, disappearing from one point and reappearing a hundred meters away in the same fraction of a second, dodging Gaia's next attack—a volley of condensed golden light projectile that shattered the lunar surface, sending shards of rock careening into the void.
You know," Surreal began, his tone conversational, "You really should consider wearing something more... practical. A cloak? A garb? Anything, really. The one you're wearing barely qualifies as clothing~
"It sets a bad example for the children."
Gaia's response was immediate, her deep, regal voice cutting through the silence. "You massacred my children."
The air shifted.
Golden constructs shimmered into existence, each one a weapon or machine from humanity's history—a testament to their ingenuity and hubris.
A phalanx of ballistae materialized alongside trebuchets, tanks, jet fighters, and even a fleet of stealth bombers. Each construct gleamed as though crafted from divine light, their forms imposing and majestic.
"Looks like humanity gave you too much inspiration when it comes to violence," Surreal remarked with a chuckle, stepping back as the constructs began to advance.
The first barrage came swiftly. Ballistae launched massive golden bolts that split the ground with each impact. The trebuchets hurled radiant boulders that exploded into showers of light. Jets screamed through the void, firing streams of golden energy at Surreal's location.
Yet despite all of that, Surreal barely shed a single fear.
He slipped through space effortlessly, his body vanishing and reappearing in rapid succession, each movement perfectly timed to evade the onslaught.
"Huh, the design is quite true to the original. Didn't think that you're one with a penchant for details," Surreal said as he dodged another strike, appearing atop a tank.
With a snap of his fingers, black tendrils spread across the vehicle, corrupting its golden surface.
The tank turned its barrel toward a nearby ballista and fired, destroying it in a burst of divine light.
"Though, strength in numbers isn't exactly a good way to fight against me."
One by one, Surreal corrupted the constructs, weaving through the battlefield like a dancer, each move deliberate and ease.
The corrupted machines turned on each other, their golden glow replaced by an ominous black sheen.
Gaia watched, her expression unreadable as her creations were dismantled.
Then, in an instant, Surreal appeared behind her, his four arms outstretched as though preparing to strike.
Gaia reacted immediately, turning with a spear of golden energy in her hand for a quick swipe.
But before she noticed it, Surreal was already gone.
Her eyes widened as she realized something had changed.
A white cloak now draped over her shoulders, its fabric shimmering faintly with black and silver threads. It was modest yet elegant, covering her figure entirely.
"I thought you could use a wardrobe update," Surreal said with a grin, reappearing a safe distance away. "Handmade, of course."
Gaia's eyes narrowed, her golden blood flowing faster within her glass-like limbs. She clenched her fists, but she didn't tear the cloak off.
"Why, mortal?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous. "Why did you kill them? Why did you destroy the life I nurtured?"
Surreal's grin faded slightly, replaced by a calm seriousness. "Because it was your will."
Gaia froze, her towering form still as the chaotic battlefield around them seemed to pause in response to her confusion. "My will?"
"Yes." Surreal's voice was steady, almost gentle. "You may not consciously realize it, but deep within you lies a hatred for humanity—a hatred born from millennia of their crimes against you.
"Wait, scratch that. You actually hate them for real. It's just that you have been holding it for quite a while. And you know, just like a glass that was filled to the brim, it will prone to spilling~"
Her golden eyes locked onto him, searching for deception, but her silence betrayed her unease.
"We'll see," Gaia said finally, her tone commanding, but it was no longer seeping with hostility.
She raised her hand, and the chaos around them ceased entirely. A circular platform of golden energy formed beneath them, smoothing the ravaged surface of the moon.
A table and chairs materialized in the center, ornate and otherworldly. Gaia seated herself in the largest chair, her regal posture unchanged.
While Gaia was preparing for her hospitality, Surreal summoned a portal and dragged Forreal's incorporeal body from it.
He then flicked her forehead, removing the spectral state.
"The two of you may take a seat."
Two smaller chairs appeared across from Gaia, along with a teapot and two teacups.
As the two of them took their seats, the teapot floated and began pouring its content on each teacup.
The liquid poured from the teapot shimmered unnaturally, its surface fracturing into complex geometric patterns that defied comprehension.
One might think that it was a liquified mathematical concept by just how bizarre it looks.
Gaia gestured toward the cups. "A sip of this drink will cleanse you of impurities and prevent lies for the next ten minutes. Drink it, and we can start our conversation."
Without hesitation, Surreal picked up his cup and downed the contents in one gulp.
It was as if he hadn't drunk anything for an entire day.
Forreal, who had just been pulled out of her spectral state and was still processing the scene, hesitated before taking a tentative sip.
The liquid was indescribable, its texture and taste defying logic, yet it left no discomfort.
Gaia's gaze bore into Surreal. "Now, speak. What did you mean by my will?"
Surreal leaned back in his chair, his calm demeanor unshaken. "Humanity is part of you, yes. But you hate them, even if only a little. And that hatred, no matter how small, has grown like a seed…
"Left unchecked, it will bloom into something catastrophic—an extinction event that will consume everything in its wake."
Gaia's expression hardened. "After killing almost every single one of my children, you claim to know my nature better than I do? Speak plainly, mortal. What is this event, and why do you think I am its cause?"
Surreal met her gaze, his voice unwavering.
"Because you're part of the Reality Core."