Once Iver confirmed his choice, the other two entries dissipated.
The golden star gradually grew larger and taller, becoming a star, becoming the only sun in that pitch-black world.
Then, as if being quenched, it slowly went out... Only then did Iver clearly see its colors.
Half red and half purple. Together, they formed a Taiji of Yin and Yang turning in endless rotation.
It looked like a Rising Sun, yet also like a setting sun. It revolved repeatedly, indistinct and ever-changing.
But once Iver saw it clearly, the great Taiji sun began spinning rapidly and glowing--
Iver, who had been staring at it, immediately sank into a hazy hallucination. His consciousness seemed to be pulled out of his body.
In his daze, Iver saw seven profound marks. Three on the left, three on the right, and one above.
Four of the marks were dim and dull.
One mark burned with flames, like ashes.
Another mark crackled with dark-purple lightning, as though it were darker than black itself.
Sloth. Envy.
Iver immediately understood the meanings of those two marks.
As for the remaining one—the mark at the very top—Iver could not see its color at all.
The more intently he looked, the more he felt that it could be any color. It seemed black, seemed red, and seemed transparent.
As Iver's consciousness gradually sank into it, he finally saw...
A mirror.
Reflected in the mirror was his own face.
It was an Iver with an arrogant, unrestrained expression. His hair was black, and his pupils were blood-red.
He wore black light armor and sat cross-legged upon a throne.
He was slightly raising his right hand and looking over, while six small orbs of different colors revolved around his index finger.
"Hmph!"
Suddenly, that black-haired Iver seemed to notice Iver's arrival.