Hua Wei's casual remark—"Earth... I've already forgotten how long it's been since I last returned"—stirred towering waves within the Emperor's heart.
A visible fluctuation of emotion appeared on the Emperor's weathered face—shock, realization, and an indescribably complex feeling.
"Earth..." The Emperor's voice was low, carrying a slight tremor. "You truly are a fellow countryman from that land."
His gaze sharpened, as though he wished to see through Hua Wei's true thoughts.
"Then you... truly do not care about humanity's future? You truly do not care how I pushed humanity's hope step by step into the Abyss?"
His tone was filled with deep self-mockery. Ten thousand years of struggle and his eventual loss of control had nearly exhausted every last glimmer of his humanity.
Hua Wei slowly set down his teacup and shook his head, his gaze carrying the distant depth of one looking down upon the river of time.
"No. Quite the opposite. We actually... have many people who have always been watching this place, watching you."
"Watching me?" The Emperor frowned slightly, somewhat puzzled.
"Yes," Hua Wei affirmed. "You have quite a few followers where we come from. From your initial birth to your step-by-step unification of the chaotic stars, your attempt to lead humanity toward reason and Glory, many among us have been following your path. Just as you once hid behind the scenes, silently watching every stumbling step of human civilization."
He paused, watching astonishment flash through the Emperor's eyes before continuing. "To be fair, most of us think quite highly of you. We consider you resilient, decisive, and possessed of foresight far beyond your era, as well as... the resolve to bear every accusation and pain for the sake of your species' survival. Of course, some believe your methods were too extreme, that excessive rationality suppressed