As far as Plato was concerned, there was no way he could withstand nuclear fusion.
He was merely a saint on the verge of dying in the wasteland. How could he possibly withstand a nuclear bomb head-on?
Under Urukuluuk's near-self-destructive attack, the illusory Plato shattered like a soap bubble and evaporated in the scorching heat.
However, that was merely a projection of consciousness, not Plato himself.
While stunned by this strike that surpassed the limits of humanity, Plato also sensed the energy and radiation it contained. If such an explosion occurred near Utopia—or even within Utopia City—the consequences would be unimaginable.
The only thing he was thankful for was that this had been caused by a human, rather than being a natural disaster.
As long as there was an intervention of will, it fell within Plato's domain.
His consciousness dispersed, spreading across the rain-lashed desert like a vast net. Amid the rain, countless wails instantly filled Plato's mind.
They were the despair of the soldiers who had been dispatched, the pain of the captured traveling merchants, and countless more faint, barely perceptible murmurs.
At the same time, Plato discovered several voices among those murmurs that were especially grating.
"Holy crap, that's amazing! It's a nuke! Coach, I want to learn how to make nukes!"
"Compared to making nukes, wouldn't it be better to fuse together first?"
"Huh? Why did I become two people?"
"Fusion! I'll form the head!"
The same voice intertwined into different words, as though one person had split personalities, possessing countless consciousnesses and clones that were all fighting their own battles.
Plato extended his consciousness toward it, attempting to pry into that creature's mind.
But soon, a cacophony of murmurs filled all of Plato's consciousness. He felt intensely dizzy, as though he had been thrown from a