After a long while, Qian Yuhan carefully tore a slit in the sun and peeked out with her little head.
She did not even dare stick her whole head out at once.
First, a little bit of her forehead appeared.
She paused.
Then she slowly revealed her eyes.
Only then did half her soft, fair face emerge.
Just moments ago, she had been a solar divinity stretching across the stars, one the entire world had not dared look at directly.
Now, with that little head poking out, she looked inexplicably like a rabbit checking whether a hawk was waiting outside its burrow.
Qian Yuhan stayed tucked inside the sun, cautiously surveying the surrounding stars.
Left.
Nothing.
Right.
Nothing there, either.
After a moment's hesitation, she stole a glance beyond Chaos.
The World Membrane that had once wrapped around the entire world had vanished completely.
And that terrifying figure, which had once spanned Chaos and set her surviving memories screaming warnings merely by appearing, was gone too.
Only then did Qian Yuhan quietly breathe a sigh of relief.
But before she had even finished exhaling, the tattered memories in her mind began spilling out again, beyond her control.
The consciousness that had just been born within her was not a perfectly blank sheet of paper.
The divinity left behind by the Angel God.
The remains left behind by the Destruction Dragon.
Qian Yuhan's obsession with carrying all of human civilization on her back, time and again, toward the brink of destruction.
The final prayers of countless dying souls for light, for the sun, for the gods.
And the Destruction Dragon's savage madness, which had wanted nothing more than to drag every last god down to die with her.
Two utterly different, even contradictory things had been forcibly stuffed into her head.