Hope in the Depths of Despair

After hearing the Heaven-rank expert's words, Lin Cheng fell silent for a moment.

Scene after scene flashed rapidly through his mind. Every glimpse he had passed in his memories gradually took on a hue of blood and ash. Those once-vivid figures became decayed and cold, like corpses that had been dead for countless years.

Unlike powerful figures such as the Military Lord and Beishan Lie, people like Uncle Dao might not even know that they had long since died. They still believed they were living well, still filled with hope for tomorrow's life.

Perhaps one day, they would forget everything they knew now and begin anew, entering another cycle forgotten in their memories. Again and again, they would play out the joys and sorrows, meetings and partings of the past, like marionettes controlled by someone else. Even their smiles and tears had been imposed upon them by others. As for themselves, perhaps they had already completely died at some point tens of millions of years ago. What remained now might be nothing more than an obsession—or a memory.

When could a person be said to have truly died?

When the flesh died, when the soul was destroyed, or when they were completely forgotten?

Perhaps only at the moment when every memory of oneself had completely faded away could one truly be said to have bid farewell to this world.

"..."

The scenes in his memories flickered swiftly, occasionally freezing in place. At this moment, two utterly different images surfaced in Lin Cheng's mind at once—one brimming with vivid vitality, the other seemingly soaked in blood.

"So this is the truth of the Spacetime Small World?"

At this moment, Lin Cheng's heart was indescribably heavy. He raised his head toward the sky and discovered that it had, at some unknown point,