At the center of the theater stage.
Sunday stood with his hands behind his back, facing away from Yan Huan with an air of supreme importance.
"[And so came the seventh day.]"
"[Then voices rose together in jubilant song—]"
A thunderous chorus of praise rang out without end, and the slumbering theater awoke.
Amid the overwhelming spectacle, Yan Huan walked up behind Sunday.
"You really like putting on a show."
"Heh, Mr. Yan Huan." Sunday turned with a faint smile.
"I've told you everything about Order. By now, you must understand what we seek."
"So, now that you stand before me, what are your thoughts?"
"None, really."
Yan Huan spread his hands.
"I watched your play. Too much classical Chinese. Felt like memorizing texts in elementary school."
Sunday smiled faintly.
"In the end, that was merely an insignificant episode in the galaxy's history. What matters is where its currents will flow from here..."
"Your timing is perfect."
"And so is that of the guests you brought."
Sunday raised his head and gazed at the densely packed Cloud Knights in the Audience Gallery. He nodded slightly.
"Just as well. They'll lay a solid foundation for my paradise."
"Mr. Yan Huan, surely you don't think these reinforcements alone can bring down my paradise?"
Yan Huan shook his head.
"Of course not."
Sunday kept smiling.
"Whatever your purpose, I still welcome you all. Welcome to the [Penacony Grand Theater]."
"This is the heart of the dream, the resting place of the Stellaron, the ultimate stage for the Grand Symphony Ceremony..."
"And the place where we'll fight a Deadly Duel to decide Penacony's future."
At that, Yan Huan slowly pulled two power banks from his pockets.
"Then can you tell me why my power banks are still dead?"
"..."
Sunday looked at the power