Lynn followed the golden line downward and saw fragmented images.
They were scenes of the familial bond between Lynn and Lin Chen in the simulation.
The final image froze at the moment the vortex in the River Styx appeared, when the boy stood in front of him without hesitation and looked back to call him "Father."
Every event in those nine years, every laugh, every scolding, every moment spent together, had added something to this line.
After nine years, thin as it was, the line connected them firmly. Nothing could tear it apart.
He focused his mental power on the golden line and touched it with his truest emotions.
He remembered how soft and seemingly boneless Lin Chen had been the first time he held him, the warmth of that little hand when he taught him to hold a sword, and the final look he cast back before leaping into the vortex.
The golden line flashed.
Lynn continued pouring mental power into it, strengthening the thread and pushing all the emotions accumulated over nine years in the simulation into it.
The golden line grew brighter and thicker.
He felt fate stirring.
The dark red lines faded, slowly retreating.
The golden line rose from the corner, becoming clearer and more tangible.
The Stellar Orbit Fragment began trembling incessantly. Several cracks opened across its crystalline surface, and starlight spilled through them like sand that could no longer be contained.
Lynn did not let go. He pushed the last of his emotions into it, then clenched his hand.
The golden line settled into his palm and solidified.
It was no longer an illusory image, but a real, tangible thread, one end connected to him and the other leading deep into the distant gray-blue void.
Lynn opened his eyes. The Stellar Orbit Fragment in