No one was willing to think about that question.
Because it was not impossible.
The Abyss could corrupt all things, and they could only rely on the Simulator to resist its encroachment.
To some extent, the Simulator seemed to have appeared precisely to help humanity fight the Abyss.
If humanity defeated the Abyss, who could guarantee that the Simulator would not disappear?
No one dared to guarantee it, nor was any Mimic willing to accept the possibility that the Simulator might vanish.
Those who had initially attempted simulations, failed in simulated worlds, and lost their ability to simulate could afford not to care whether the Simulator disappeared, because they had already lost their qualifications to become Mimics.
But for those Mimics, there was no way they could give up the Simulator.
Whether it was the power, lifespan, wealth, resources, or the infinite worlds and infinite futures the Simulator brought them, none of it was something they could abandon.
Having already obtained everything, how could they possibly be willing to lose it all?
Even if the Simulator disappeared, what they possessed now might not vanish, but those things were merely gains they could obtain through the Simulator as Mimics.
What truly mattered was the Simulator, not those resources!
If the Simulator disappeared, what meaning was there in retaining what they currently possessed?
They would have lost the foundation of being Mimics.
Thus, no Mimic was willing to accept the possibility that the Simulator might disappear, even if it was only a possibility.
For that reason, neither humanity nor the Abyss could truly achieve ultimate victory; because humanity—humanity as Mimics—did not wish for that.
So Lin Chen found himself, and the Mimics, a very good excuse. Ordinary people would not accept it, but the Mimics would not refute it.
As beneficiaries, they