He saw the moment Heaven collapsed.
The once-majestic holy temples were crushed flat like paper lanterns, the once-radiant domes burst apart like shattered glass, and the once-singing angels scattered in flight like startled flocks of birds.
Their wings were sliced open by debris, their holy light scattered by shockwaves, and their minds churned into a mess by chaotic laws. Some angels fell into cracks leading to the human world and were buried beneath the soil, where they were still struggling to this day.
Some angels were swept into turbulent currents of the void, drifting off to some unknown world.
Some angels died on the spot, but death was not the end, because the power of creation would not allow anything to end.
Their remains were still there, embedded in rock strata, lodged on the ocean floor, caught within cracks in the sky. Their consciousnesses remained as well, but they had already been ground into dust and mixed with fragments of human cells, impossible to distinguish from one another.
Wu Heng's consciousness withdrew from that chaos.
He had already seen through this world's blessing. It was neither a natural disaster nor a man-made calamity, but the aftereffect of God's failed experiment.
The power of creation had overloaded, bursting human souls apart, draining Heaven empty, while the power of death had nowhere to go and condensed into Hell.
The living were imprisoned in immortality, while the dead were trapped in eternal stillness.
The power of creation had twisted into a blessing, permeating heaven and earth and becoming the underlying hue of this world.
His senses refocused on the present.
A gray sky, cracked earth, twisted trees, dark red grass, the broken bodies of the undead, and the phantoms of hungry souls.
Everything now had an explanation.
Nothing was accidental. It had all