The station had run out of time.
In the mere flick of a finger, the station had shattered out of its threefold state and been crushed into a single mass, leaving it unrecognizable. And it was only getting worse!
Explosions erupted one after another, flames flared everywhere, and countless urban horrors writhed and shrieked, roaming about in search of people to devour.
Ji Jue strolled through the flames and thick smoke, listening to the furious shrieks and wails.
And even that utterly familiar roar...
It all felt so familiar.
Truly, it was a balm for the soul!
Three seconds.
From the moment the Doomsday Train crashed into the station until the Tai'a Domain unfolded and covered the entire station, Ji Jue had only three seconds.
Within that single second, Ji Jue, who had assumed [Worm]'s form, decisively overtaxed himself and split off more than a dozen copies of himself.
No exchanges, no communication, and certainly no need for words.
In less than a second, the sixteen Ji Jues exchanged glances, then split up in perfect accord to execute their strategies and secure results.
These included, but were not limited to, accelerating their personal time to stretch those three seconds into fifteen minutes, sabotaging the entire station's communications system, planting all the explosives aboard the Doomsday Train, releasing massive quantities of poison gas and microbial cultures into the station, and packing all the station's servers and records into the Doomsday Train's hazardous materials vault... and so on and so forth.
The first fifteen Ji Jues each had their assignments. The last Ji Jue appeared in the station's warehouse.
While all his other selves were hard at work, he leisurely drew out the Secret Rite, completed the arrangements, and laid out the offerings and sacrifices.
Finally, he took out the oil lamp.