"Disappear?"
"Do you want to give up this authority?"
Edwin froze, not expecting the other party to say such a thing.
Although the ultimate fate of Beyonders in this world was to become vessels for the Original Creator's resurrection.
From a human perspective, the period before that was still exceedingly long.
Throughout those long years, one could sit upon a divine throne, gaze down at the stars, and toy with the threads of fate.
With a snap of the fingers, one could extinguish a star; with a turn of the palm, one could erase an entire civilization from the history books.
Who could refuse power that was nearly omnipotent?
"It wasn't me who chose this path."
Hearing that, the figure replied.
"This path chose me."
The instant he spoke, the vast, ancient, utterly inhuman divine aura around the figure suddenly collapsed.
He became Klein once more...
"If I had a choice, I would rather give it up."
The figure continued.
The moment he finished speaking, grayish-white mist surged back in.
That cold divinity once again occupied the high ground.
Tentacles drilled out from beneath the hem of his trench coat, writhing wildly and tearing at the surrounding space.
"So that's how it is... Then you've effectively acknowledged my existence?"
Watching this scene, Edwin stroked his chin.
For higher-dimensional beings, time had never been a river flowing in a single direction.
Past, present, and future existed in an overlapping state.
He had always found it strange.
He had caused such a huge commotion in this world—implementing compulsory education, building steam engines, and forcibly shattering the underlying logic of mysticism.
How could the Outer Deities beyond the cosmos, along with the Great Old Ones deep in the starry sky, possibly have had no reaction at all?
He had thought that his future