From the depths of her Stigmata, from the depths of the very foundation of her existence as the individual known as Raiden Mei.
—Mei.
That voice was very similar to her own, yet subtly different in the smallest ways.
Cool, steady, like a calm that could only have settled after witnessing the destruction and rebirth of countless universes.
Raiden Mei's Stigmata suddenly gave off a faint violet glow at that moment.
Hwangcheon's consciousness poured into Mei's body through the connection of the Stigmata.
Two—or rather, three—consciousnesses shared the same body, and two forces converged within the same Stigmata.
The color of Mei's eyes changed. Deep within her originally violet pupils, an extremely faint, almost transparent Red Light surfaced.
"You are—"
Guiji's languid tone, which had always sounded as if everything were in his grasp, changed for the first time.
Mei—at this moment, it was already impossible to tell whether she was Mei or Hwangcheon—slowly raised the tachi in her hand.
The movement was very slow.
Slow enough that Guiji had ample time to activate his ability.
And he did activate it.
In the instant the tachi was raised, he adjusted tens of thousands of probability parameters—the probability of the blade deviating from its path, the probability of a muscle spasm causing insufficient grip strength, the probability of energy transmission decaying in a high-concentration Memetic material environment, even the probability of Raiden Mei herself suffering a lapse in consciousness after continuous, high-intensity expenditure.
Every unfavorable probability was adjusted to nearly one hundred percent.
All of them were ineffective.
Nihility ignored everything.
Black Marshal said you did well, but I don't care.
When that blade-light was slashed out, Guiji realized for the first time that he had miscalculated.
Nihility had no probability.
Something that did not exist did not need to be