As Wei Fenghua's resonance depth continued to rise, black matter kept flowing out through the various gaps in the Mecha Cockpit.
The stuff seemed liquid, yet seemed to have no mass, while still appearing viscous.
As the substance spread, the Cockpit was gradually eroded bit by bit.
A red dialogue box popped up on the command console, displaying a horrifying message.
"Boundary Erosion detected in the mech. Pilot, please evacuate the Cockpit as soon as possible."
"Current Boundary Erosion progress: eight percent... ten percent..."
The reading was shooting upward at an astonishing speed.
Just like the resonance depth data, it broke through the safety threshold in the blink of an eye, with no sign of stopping.
Wei Fenghua sat in the chair. Inside his helmet, he breathed softly, and his exhalations blurred the visor.
Amid the haze, he recalled the past.
He seemed to have returned to the compound where he had lived as a child. On a summer afternoon, sunlight streamed through the window and spilled across the living room.
He sat in a dark wooden rocking chair, with a lazy cat lying at his feet.
That rocking chair had been made by his father with his own hands. From selecting the wood to processing it and applying the finish, that unsmiling man had crafted it from start to finish.
This utterly ordinary rocking chair held a father's silent love.
The scene shifted in an instant.
He saw himself in the prime of his youth, holding a worn-out book. He could even smell the faint scent of ink between its pages.
He sat in the corner of the living room while an old-fashioned record player quietly played gentle music.
He desperately absorbed knowledge from the ocean of books.
Light and shadow flickered away.
He arrived in a vast and