"You are not alone."
When Tang Qi sent this voice into the Dust Universe, lighthouses appeared within his eyes—lighthouses that continuously shone with gentle, brilliant starlight.
Each of them was as enormous as a star, surrounding a stretch of starry sky, and within that sky was a cemetery.
Tombstones and Star Coffins condensed from "starlight" wrapped around broken, lifeless corpses. These corpses came from different origins: gods nearly a thousand meters tall, races similar to humans, treants, elves, and ugly creatures from alien realms...
What they had in common was that they seemed to have endured unimaginably brutal wars. Almost none of the bodies remained intact, yet all carried an aura of peace and tranquility.
The lighthouses shone with radiance, serving as both guardians and guides.
In Tang Qi's mind, he heard the Voice in the Wind.
"They were all once warriors. The wars they took part in were all wars of love and salvation. In the end, they died, following the fate of all warriors."
"Passing traveler, would you offer a flower? May the radiance of the warriors' souls forever guide you."
Tang Qi offered flowers, then stepped into an unfamiliar universe.
At first, it appeared lifeless. There was no civilization, nor was there any life. It resembled a world that had just been born, yet also one that had already fallen silent.
But soon, fine, dense voices filled with all kinds of emotions rose from the depths of Tang Qi's soul.
Every speck of dust, every meteorite, every ray of light within this universe was telling a different story. They were not those who had experienced those stories, merely retellers. They charged no compensation and eternally retold the stories of others.
In an instant, this place became a universe brimming with boundless vitality.
There was nowhere more