In that instant, there was no sound, for all matter had been forced away by the ferocious power.
At the point where halberd blade met sword fingers, it was as though a holy spirit had unleashed its might, as if a thousand suns were shining in unison.
And that figure was swallowed by the light in that instant.
Of course, he had not died.
He was merely considering a question.
All life was a question.
From the birth of the most ancient life, questions had arisen alongside it. Even in that era when even "I" did not exist, even in those years before "mind" had come into being, questions whose names, meanings, origins, and essence were unknown still pursued humanity, asking: "What is the answer?"
To this, life gave its first answer.
[Existence] and [Continuation].
Through life, action, instinct, years, death after death, billions upon billions of evolutions and cycles, they carved traces into space-time and wrote down their reply.
After that, more answers emerged, founded upon existence and continuation, branching into infinity.
Within that infinity, life created more life. Seeds became ever more blossoms. Infinite dreams were refined generation after generation, while countless utterly different—even opposing—dreams split away.
Every answer represented an infinite possibility.
But was there a possibility that the answer itself, beyond infinity, erased even more infinities?
Because one chose an answer and set foot upon a broad, open road, that weed-choked path, that boundless expanse, that endless wilderness, was overlooked.
Of course.
Of course, some would say that such paths were infinitely long and infinitely wide; they were not limited to the achievements of one person, but could enable all to achieve; they imposed no restrictions and depended only on one's heart; anyone who wished to leave could do so freely.
Thus, the road itself was