Without comparison, there was no harm. But once there was comparison, the truth felt cruel.
Amid such silence, as Heaven Qi drew closer, the powerful magnetic field it carried began to interact violently with Earth's magnetic field. The climate across the entire world started changing abruptly, while sea levels rose and churned up raging waves, as though they were about to drown the land.
All life on Earth felt suffocated by the drastic shift in the magnetic field. Things with keen senses but simple neural structures, ants among them, were especially thrown into constant panic.
Yet even at this point, Zhao Cheng had still not appeared. Of course, many had long since stopped hoping.
But after witnessing countless nuclear warheads detonate at once, only to kick up a little dust, many people naturally came to understand what a celestial body was.
It was something that, even in terms of raw data, left no room for hope of surpassing it.
Zhao Cheng was powerful, but he was ultimately only human. And humanity ultimately had its limits.
In a distant parallel spacetime, at the edge of the first spacetime horizon, within a strange constructed pyramid, an agent of the Purple Moon Empire stared at the images observed from the primordial spacetime. He had clearly seen humanity's final resistance as well.
As for virtual cave-heavens, such technology was utterly commonplace in the Purple Moon Empire. The Empire could not even be bothered with such things. If they wanted to make a "game," they would directly alter an entire parallel spacetime universe, modifying its various constants and laws to turn it into a game.
Virtual things were children's tricks.
In his view—or rather, according to the judgment of the Purple Moon Empire's central mainframe—this was merely a low-level civilization that had luckily acquired