Adam said nothing.
For the first time, something akin to confusion appeared in his ever-gentle, ever-compassionate eyes.
This defied all reason.
From the First Epoch until now, the iron law of Beyonder Characteristics had never been broken.
The moment you swallowed your first mouthful of potion, whether it was Sequence 9 or Sequence 1, your body and mind began to mutate.
You thought you were controlling power, but in truth, power was reshaping you.
Even gods were merely Monsters wearing human skin.
But now, that Artificial Angel pieced together from gears, rivets, and coarse work clothes floated above Tingen City.
Those lowest-class workers, who labored fourteen hours a day in factories, ate black bread mixed with sawdust, and barely knew how to read, had actually used their purest wishes to tame Beyonder Characteristics in reverse?
Why?
Adam asked himself inwardly.
He could not understand it.
He could see through the darkness in human hearts and manipulate the most intricate subconsciousness, yet he could not comprehend the almost foolish hope gathered by these ants who could not even afford enough food.
Tingen City Hall Square.
The rain had stopped.
The puddles in the sewers reflected the light of torches.
A young police officer wearing a monocle stood beneath a bronze statue, his finger resting on the trigger of an Enfield rifle.
He was about to fire a third shot.
As long as that bullet entered the crowd, the blacksmith at the front holding a hammer would have his head blown apart.
Then, the enraged crowd would completely tear through the riot police's defensive line. Trampling, accidental gunfire, slaughter—a perfect riot would unfold according to plan.
But he failed to pull the trigger.
A vast will so immense it made his scalp prickle suddenly crashed down from the depths of the Sea