Lin Ye stood before the Prototype, his figure motionless, not even the hem of his robe stirring. He bore seven layers of pressure, yet his consciousness remained as calm as still water in the eye of a storm.
Only when the seven had paused did he slowly raise his head, his calm gaze sweeping across the seven conceptual statues.
"Have you all finished?" His voice was quiet, yet it echoed clearly throughout the Primordial Origin Court.
"If 'ancient' and 'pure' mean truth, why should this Thought Sea ever change? Would it not be best to preserve your 'purity' forever?" Lin Ye's first question struck straight at the central contradiction.
"If 'absolute void' truly is the best state for the universe, what meaning is there in the concept of 'void' itself, or in our discussion here? It would be nothing but noise destined to vanish." He looked toward the sea of darkness. "True 'nothingness' needs no pursuit. It is simply there. The meaning of 'existence,' however, lies in the process of 'existing.'"
"Overthrowing is a driving force, but not a purpose. Overthrowing for its own sake is just as stagnant as cycling for its own sake," he told the ladder of flames. "New shoots are indeed precious, but how could they grow without rotten wood turning into soil to nourish them? An upward spiral, not destruction on a flat plane."
"The efficiency of a single will rests on the eradication of diversity." Lin Ye faced the pure-white tower. "And the universe's greatest waste is to let billions of unique possibilities vanish into a monotonous echo. Our 'protocol' coordinates 'connections,' not 'uniformity.'"
"As for 'regularity,'" he said, turning toward the chaotic mist, "a complete absence of regularity is itself an extreme form of 'regularity.' Our protocol ensures the stability of the basic