"We're finished! Oh, how could this happen? The group members said our chat group was invincible! How could it get smashed and taken over? How could this happen?"
Harry Potter looked utterly despairing. At that moment, he felt what true despair was: fear, helplessness, and an indescribable oppression that kept surging through his heart. It was the feeling of an ordinary person facing a natural disaster, powerless to do anything.
Compared to the situation now, every hardship he had faced before—including every hardship humanity in their world had endured—was child's play. World wars, Voldemort—even the destruction of a planet—all amounted to child's play in the face of this crisis.
Their world didn't currently have any planet-destroying beings, but it was still quite powerful, especially its systems. Some of them could even travel through time.
It certainly seemed miraculous, but against monsters and natural disasters that could destroy planets—or even universes—with a casual move, their supposedly miraculous powers were still far too weak in scale.
Take gravity, for example. It was a mechanism: people fell to their deaths from high places, and huge masses of matter gathered together to form black holes.
That was a mechanism, but did falling from a high place mean a person would definitely die?
Various methods could weaken that death mechanism to its limits, or even ignore it entirely. Parachutes, bodily modification, cybernetic ascension, genetic transcendence, psychic immortality, and so on could free people from the mechanism that falling from a high place meant certain death. That was what it meant to raise one's scale.
Their world had plenty of magical mechanisms, and even the power to travel through time and space. But as he'd said, their scale was far too small. They hadn't even reached the planetary level, so how could they possibly stand against