The golden yellow trembled for a long time. Then it made its choice—it gently settled on Lin Ye's shoulder, like a fallen leaf finding ground where it could rest. It did not merge into the cloak, nor was it reclaimed. It simply "stayed there."
A second color drifted over. It was a deep indigo that had once represented the Wisdom Sea. It landed on Lin Ye's other shoulder.
A third, a fourth, a fifth—more and more colors rose from the gloom and drifted toward Lin Ye. They did not merge into his cloak. They simply settled upon him, on his shoulders, his arms, and the edges of his cloak.
All sixty-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-seven colors found their places. Lin Ye sat there, covered from head to toe in countless hues like a painted statue.
Harmonic Leaping Note's tears finally fell. Not from sorrow, but because she had never seen such a gentle scene—an existence sitting here, doing nothing, simply allowing those forgotten colors to decide whether they wanted to be remembered.
Myriad Faces and Forms reflected Lin Ye's current appearance in its mirror surface. Those colors began to shine again upon him—not because they had been activated, but because they had been seen. For the first time in countless eras, an existence had seen every one of their forms.
On Primordial Origin's cloak, thirty-seven billion stars lit up at once. The obsessions of the Zero Era said—we see them too.
When the final color—a pure white that had once represented "eternity"—fell into Lin Ye's palm, a sigh came from the depths of the gloom.
It was not a threat or a warning, but a relief unseen in countless eras.
"Defined One," the voice said. "You did nothing."
Lin Ye raised his head and looked into the depths of the