As Ordinary as Ever

The moment Chen Tian stepped through the conceptual gate, he didn't feel the spatial tearing or dimensional distortion he had expected. It felt more like... pushing open an ordinary, somewhat old door.

One step forward, and everything becomes clear.

The sight before him caused the immense power within Chen Tian to freeze for a moment.

There is no boundless the Void, no divine palace, no distorted dimensional labyrinth.

It was just the interior of an extremely ordinary apartment building in the Dragon Country.

The apartment has a typical three-bedroom layout (and perhaps a half-bedroom?). The white walls are slightly yellowed in some places, with faded cartoon stickers and remnants. The floor is covered with common light-colored composite flooring, with some wear and tear on the edges.

The living room features an ordinary fabric sofa with slightly sunken cushions. On the glass coffee table in front of it are several fast food containers, torn potato chip bags, and a wireless game controller covered in fingerprints.

The air was filled with a complex mix of smells—the lingering broth from last night's instant noodles, a faint smell of dust, and a barely perceptible odor of sweat and smoke (although I didn't see an ashtray).

Outside the window, the city unfolds at dusk, with towering buildings and countless lights twinkling like a nascent starry sky, while the lights of cars on the distant streets trail flowing ribbons of light.

Chen Tian's deep, unfathomable eyes swept over the utterly ordinary scene, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

It feels very familiar.

Before he was blown away by that unreasonable dump truck and swept into this endless adventure, he once lived in such an ordinary, down-to-earth residential building in Dragon Country.

In retrospect, it wasn't fiction... but rather the "creator" who, in depicting this character, subconsciously projected his most familiar living environment into his "background setting."

He chuckled softly, his voice low and almost inaudible:

"Ha..." He chuckled, a hint of self-mockery mixed with an indescribable sense of absurdity.

Just then--

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh", a man screamed in a frantic manner, filled with deep frustration, and suddenly came from the small room next to the living room with a half-length frosted plastic door curtain hanging!

The voice was young, hoarse from staying up all night, and deeply weary, as if all the energy had been drained.

"I'm stuck on a script again~~~ Oh well, I'll just play on my phone for a bit." The owner of that voice seemed to have given up the struggle instantly. His tone slid off the edge of despair and became casual, lazy, and even had a hint of giving up in despair.

Immediately afterwards, a clear female voice with a strong electronic quality pierced through the doorway, clearly a line from a character in a mobile or computer game:

"Let us hunt down those who have fallen into darkness!" (Vayne's line)

The sound made Chen Tian's eyes flicker slightly.

Then, the young male voice rang out again, this time with a lewd and excited laugh, completely different from the exhausted man who had been wailing earlier:

"Hehehe, it's time to reveal my hidden identity as a fan of the 'Void God'!"

"Void God"?!

Ha, Uxi? Is that self-deprecation or a joke?

He walked almost without thinking, his steps steady and silent, like a shadow blending into the environment, towards the semi-open room with the curtain hanging on the door without the slightest hesitation.

The curtain is made of a common semi-transparent frosted plastic material, printed with blurry geometric patterns.

Chen Tian didn't reach out; instead, his gaze fell on the curtain. The curtain seemed to be parted by an invisible force, quietly sliding open to reveal the scene inside. It was a typical work and entertainment corner for a shut-in.

The space was small, with a slightly worn, light-colored wooden desk against the wall. The desk was messy, with several open books lying spine up on top of scattered manuscripts, and a Mark with anime patterns on it was stained with dark brown cola.

Next to it was the laptop that was working, its screen dimly lit, seemingly stuck on a document.

Above the computer screen, several simple white acrylic display racks were nailed to the wall, and several exquisite figurines were carefully placed on the racks: the red and gold Iron Man MK7 maintained its classic floor position.

Beside her stood 2B, a girl with short silver hair, wielding a battle sword, and a cool demeanor.

Next to 2B is a somewhat worn-looking Freedom Gundam figure, and a Deadpool model with its signature wide grin, wearing a yellow eyepatch, and striking a comical pose.

On one corner of the desk sat a pen holder with several pens in it and a half-empty can of cola, the aluminum can covered with fine water droplets.

The room's main light source comes from an adjustable desk lamp on the desk, which barely illuminates the desktop and the fluorescent light emitted by the computer screen itself.

The room's owner was currently facing away from the door, deeply slumped in a rather old-looking black computer chair. He was about twenty-five or twenty-six years old, with short, messy black hair that looked like a bird's nest, as if he had just had a three-hundred-round battle with his pillow.

He was wearing a slightly faded gray cotton T-shirt with a loose neckline and a pair of loose dark athletic shorts.

He leaned forward slightly, head down, his neck stiff from focus, holding his phone in both hands, wearing black headphones, his fingers moving rapidly and excitedly across the screen, making a series of soft "tap-tap" sounds.

His whole body swayed slightly with the tense rhythm of the game, and he would occasionally make unconscious, low "tsk" sounds, or short, lewd "hehe" laughs when he saw a brilliant move (probably admiring the "Void God's" performance).

He was completely absorbed in the battle within the confines of his phone screen, oblivious to the uninvited guest who had silently appeared behind him.

--The being he had written about in countless adventure stories, who had survived life and death, who had just smashed through the "Box" barrier with a single punch, and who was now standing like a ghost at the door of his study-- was completely unaware.

Chen Tian stood quietly at the entrance where the curtain was parted, expressionless, watching the young figure who was immersed in the game, frustrated by game crashes, and then completely lost in the virtual world.

"Quadra Kill!"

A passionate female voice came from the phone.

The young man was instantly overcome with excitement, roaring at the screen, "Pentakill! My pentakill! Daddy! Give me a pentakill!!"

At the doorway, Chen Tian's lips curled into an uncontrollable grin, and he let out a snicker.

The sound was very soft.

But the young man wearing headphones suddenly stiffened, his neck turning to the side with extreme stiffness, his peripheral vision quickly sweeping over the silver-haired figure with an unusual aura at the door.

0.1 second!

He jerked his head back to face the phone as if he'd been electrocuted, so fast he almost snapped his neck.

But his body began to tremble slightly.

Fear instantly overshadowed the euphoria of the pentakill.

The young man frantically straightened his phone, which was playing games horizontally, into a vertical position with a "whoosh," and the game screen disappeared, instantly switching to the dialer interface.

On the screen, three striking numbers were clearly visible:

1 - 1 - 0

My index finger is already hovering over that red dial button!

Chen Tian sighed helplessly, almost wanting to facepalm.

This misunderstanding has caused...

"Ahem," he began, his voice calm, "I meant no harm."

The young man's body shuddered violently, but his fingers didn't press down; his back was taut.

"My Chen Tian," Chen Tian continued, looking at the stiff back of the figure, "From--"

He paused, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.

"--Somewhere in another world."

The young man's index finger, which was hovering over the dial key, suddenly stopped.

The young man's body was tense; he still didn't turn around, muttering in a whisper:

"Is my novel really that famous? I have such a fanatical fanbase? And some even cosplay my main character?"

The sound was as faint as a mosquito's buzz, but Chen Tian heard it clearly.

"I'm not your fan," Chen Tian said calmly, but with an undeniable tone. "I am Chen Tian."

The young man's trembling suddenly stopped.

He turned his head slightly, revealing only his right eye, his voice carrying a hint of probing and wariness:

"Prove?"

Chen Tian sighed. Troublesome.

He casually reached out and touched the seemingly empty air in front of him—the movement as natural as taking something out of a pocket.

The next second, he casually placed a uniquely designed "Blue Rose" pistol, gleaming with a cold metallic luster, on the ground with a "click," as if it were a toy.

Then, with a light push of his toe, the pistol slid precisely to the young man's feet.

The young man caught a glimpse of the gun out of the corner of his eye and was visibly startled.

He hesitated for a moment, then bent down, grasped the gun handle with his right hand, and was about to lift it—

"Ugh?!" he groaned.

The gun remained completely still, its weight exceeding all expectations!

He immediately switched to using both hands, and with all his might, he managed to lift the cold, metallic lump.

Chen Tian was somewhat surprised.

This seemingly ordinary nerdy guy's eyes suddenly sharpened after he got his hands on the gun.

His fingers pressed and flicked at several key points on the gun with exceptional skill.

"Click!"

The missile pods snapped open!

Inside, the special, bright yellow bullets were exposed under the dim light of the desk lamp.

The young man quickly unloaded a bullet, held it between his fingers and examined it carefully, feeling the cold touch of the metal and its heavy weight, as well as the fine, undecorated inscriptions on the cartridge case.

His breathing suddenly became rapid!

The next second, as if he had been electrocuted, he whirled around!

A face filled with surprise, doubt, and exhaustion from staying up all night was completely exposed to Chen Tian's gaze.

Chen Tian's pupils contracted slightly.

This face...

Although they have completely different temperaments (one is a decadent otaku, the other is more handsome), the contours of his eyebrows and eyes are actually six times similar to his own!

The young man was taken aback when he saw Chen Tian's appearance, but his attention was immediately drawn to the weapon in his hand.

"Where did you get your 'Blue Rose' model custom-made? It's amazing!"

He shouted excitedly, but then his fingers, which were caressing the bullet, paused, and his expression changed drastically. "No! This weight... this texture... this inscription... it's a real bullet!"

The excitement vanished from his eyes in an instant, replaced by vigilance and a hint of ruthlessness.

With fluid movements of both hands, he precisely pressed the heavy bullet back into the magazine with a "click," then snapped his wrists shut!

His movements were crisp and clean, carrying a sense of practiced skill honed over many years.

He struggled to lift the heavy weapon, the dark muzzle pointed at Chen Tian in the doorway, his voice tight but commanding. "Now! Get out! Immediately!"

The heavy gun made his wrist tremble violently, making it impossible for him to aim steadily.

Chen Tian looked at the trembling gun barrel and sighed helplessly, "Why bother?"

He casually raised his right index finger, and a wisp of blue electricity flashed and disappeared from the tip of his finger.

Buzz!

The young man suddenly felt his hands lighten, and the heavy Blue Rose, as if attracted by an invisible magnet, flew out of his hands with a "whoosh" and landed steadily in Chen Tian's outstretched palm.

The young man froze completely, his eyes wide like saucers. "This... this is impossible! You..."

"It's Cang." Chen Tian uttered two words calmly, casually tossing the pistol, a symbol of power, to his side.

There was no sound of it hitting the ground.

The Blue Rose vanished instantly, as if submerged in water, leaving not a trace, not even a ripple.

A young man's pupils dilated in shock!

This scene... this scene was all too familiar to him!

The protagonist in his story always just tosses things away like that, and they end up in that damned Summoning Space that only he can open!

This is not cosplay!

This is the power he wrote in the setting! It's in that document where he was struggling with writer's block!

"You... you..." The young man pointed at Chen Tian, his lips trembling, his worldview completely shattered. "You really are Chen Tian!"

The young man hadn't even lowered his finger from Chen Tian's when the shock on his face was suddenly replaced by a fanatical, almost perverse excitement!

"Holy shit! Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!"

He jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, leaping in one step to Chen Tian, completely forgetting his earlier fear and the sight of a gun pointed at him.

He circled Chen Tian for a short while, looking him up and down, left and right, making "tsk tsk tsk" sounds of amazement, his eyes shining like searchlights.

"So cool! This model... no, this real person! This texture!" He spoke at a rapid pace, like a machine gun firing off bullets. "Silver hair! That cold little eye! That aura! Absolutely amazing! A million times more perfect than I imagined!"

He suddenly stopped, his head almost touching Chen Tian's chest, and asked excitedly:

"Oh right! Why didn't you bring 2B and the others?! I really want to see what they look like in real life! It'll be a million times more amazing than the figures! The skin texture! The way each strand of hair is so clearly defined!"

Before Chen Tian could answer, he suddenly took half a step back, gesturing with his hands. "And another thing! Show me your Devil Trigger! Just once! The kind that's absolutely stunning! I need a live demonstration!"

He chattered on and on, spitting as he spoke, his rapid-fire words filled with the fervor and innocent curiosity typical of a shut-in.

Chen Tian felt a throbbing pain in his temples and finally couldn't help but Teuchi, "Could you stop talking for a moment?"

The voice wasn't loud, and it instantly cut off the young man's incessant chatter.

The young man seemed to have been paused, his eloquent speech abruptly halted.

He paused for a moment, then scratched his messy hair sheepishly and gave an embarrassed smile, "Uh... sorry, sorry, I was just too excited! I've lived for decades and this is the first time I've encountered something so fantastical, even more outrageous than what I wrote myself!"

As he spoke, he squeezed past Chen Tian, walked into the living room, and turned on the overhead light with a "click."

The light instantly dispelled the darkness in the living room.

Then, he went straight to the Fridge in the corner, opened the Fridge door, and a cold draft mixed with the smells of various foods wafted out.

Without even looking, he casually pulled out two cans of ice-cold red cola, turned around, and slammed one of them onto the coffee table next to Chen Tian —the coffee table was still piled with leftovers from last night.

He then walked to the other side, grabbed a large 1.5-liter bottle of mineral water from the water dispenser, and gulped it down, his Adam's apple bobbing violently.

Half a bottle of water vanished instantly. He slammed the bottle down, let out a loud burp, and then let out a long sigh of relief. A complex smile, a mixture of overwhelming excitement and a dream come true, graced his face as he looked at Chen Tian again.

"Sorry... the shock was too much, my brain just shut down and restarted a bit." He pointed to the Coke on the coffee table, "Want something to drink? Something cold."

Chen Tian didn't speak, his gaze sweeping over the can of cola next to the greasy fast food container.

He silently reached out, his slender fingers twitching as he pulled the tab, tilted his head back, and took a swig.

A cold, bubbly, and sweet liquid rushed down my throat.

The young man watched Chen Tian drink his cola as if admiring a rare treasure, his eyes still shining. He licked his slightly dry lips, curiosity taking over once more.

"By the way! Chen Tian, how did you get here?"

He lowered his voice, a hint of mysterious excitement in it, "Was it through Deadpool? Like... in 'Deadpool Kills the Marvel Universe'? Did he break the Fourth Wall?"

Chen Tian put down the cola can, and the water droplets condensed on the metal can dampened his fingertips.

He nodded, acknowledging the young man's first question. But then, his handsome eyebrows furrowed sharply:

"You... guessed it?"

The young man felt a little embarrassed by Chen Tian's gaze, and subconsciously touched his nose, but then straightened his chest, a unique expression of a creator appearing on his face, a mixture of pride and embarrassment:

"Of course I know! I'm the one who planted that foreshadowing!"

He rubbed his hands together and explained, "I just wrote it for fun, to make it believable to add Deadpool, the witty chatterbox, and also to introduce the later 'Infinity Ultron' and 'What If...?...' Multiverse storylines..."

As he spoke, he squeezed back into the study, casually opened a desk drawer, and rummaged through it haphazardly, papers rustling. His tone carried a hint of reminiscence and self-deprecation:

"Actually, after I finished writing the Sokovia part of the story in 1999... the readers' feedback wasn't particularly good." He pulled out a stack of printed manuscripts with worn edges and messy handwriting, and rubbed them between his fingers. "Many reviews said the pacing was a bit off, and there were inconsistencies in the settings... My mind was completely blank at the time."

He leaned back in his chair, casually tossing the stack of manuscripts onto the even messier table with a soft "thud," a slightly embarrassed wry smile appearing on his face.

"Back then, I actually considered changing the plot about the time travel before the demon god's interference and the Time Stone's overflowing energy." He tapped his temple with his finger. "Or maybe I should just do a longer time travel, jumping to the future or an even more ancient era to develop a new main storyline, which might win back some of our reputation..."

The young man sighed, leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and unconsciously rubbed his hands together. "I tried to write a few draft outlines, like a universe reboot, the Original Avengers, a fusion of DC Comics... They all sound very grand, right?"

He looked up at Chen Tian, who stood motionless in the doorway like a statue, his eyes filled with helplessness. "But when I write it, it just doesn't feel right. It's dry, the transitions are abrupt, like changing maps for the sake of changing maps. I just can't find that seamless feeling I had when I first wrote about time travel."

He shrugged, his tone tinged with a sense of resignation. "So in the end... we hastily ended the travel storyline, making it feel a bit anticlimactic. Let the readers complain, I accept it."

At this point, the young man's tone suddenly changed. The embarrassment and helplessness from before vanished, replaced by an almost fanatical light burning in his bloodshot eyes from staying up all night.

He sat bolt upright, his finger pointing excitedly at Chen Tian:

"But! That Deadpool storyline! I just couldn't bring myself to delete it!" His voice rose slightly with excitement, carrying the fervor of a gambler who had just won a bet. "Do you know why?!"

Without waiting for Chen Tian's reply, he slammed his hand on the table, making the Mark and cola can on it shake.

"Just because he's Deadpool! That lunatic! The only guy who knows he's a comic book character, can talk to readers, and can even jump out of the frame!"

The young man's breathing quickened, his face revealing an undisguised, almost naive fantasy. "In a moment of impulsiveness, I thought... what if? What if the protagonist I wrote, who went through everything... could also find me through this madman?!"

His gaze was fixed on Chen Tian, and a bright, even slightly silly smile spread across his face, as if his lifelong dream had come true in this moment:

"Look!" He spread his hands, looking around his messy study, his gaze finally settling intently on Chen Tian's cold, perfect face, his voice trembling with excitement:

"Hasn't this my dream come true?!"

An unnamed fire surged up in Chen Tian's chest! Beneath his white hair, his deep eyes instantly ignited with long-suppressed rage, and his voice boomed like thunder:

"A dream come true?!" He took a step forward, his aura suddenly exploding, and the air in the entire room seemed to sink. "Do you even know how devastating it is to know that you're just a character someone else has casually sketched out in their writing! To know that everything you've experienced, even the way your mother says and takes, could be pre-programmed! How utterly hopeless that would be?!"

The young man's smile froze instantly, stunned by Chen Tian's sudden outburst of anger.

But then, to Chen Tian's surprise, the young man not only didn't back down in fear, but instead grinned, revealing an even brighter smile, one that even carried a hint of relief and pride:

"But," the young man pointed at Chen Tian's nose, his eyes shining brightly, "You've now broken through my 'settings' and are standing right in front of me! Your presence here is the greatest rebellion against my 'creation'! The most perfect proof!"

Chen Tian's raging anger was abruptly halted by those words, and his overwhelming momentum froze for a moment.

He... broke the established rules?

The young man didn't give him time to think and suddenly stood up.

He was about 1.8 meters tall, and was half a head shorter than Chen Tian.

But he didn't care at all, and with a strange excitement and determination, he grabbed Chen Tian's arm!

The force wasn't great, but it was exceptionally firm.

"Come with me!" Without saying a word, the young man pulled Chen Tian a few steps and rushed to his desk, which was piled with trash.

He slapped his laptop, its screen still lit, hard. The screen displayed the blank document interface that was driving him crazy with writer's block, the cursor blinking indifferently in the blank space.

"Look!" The young man turned his head, staring intently at Chen Tian, his face showing a carefree attitude of complete abandonment. "You said everything about you is in my manuscript? Fine! From now on, this thing is yours!"

He abruptly turned the computer screen towards Chen Tian, his action carrying a do-or-die spirit:

"I've held the knife of the story long enough," he grinned, his eyes gleaming despite his exhaustion from staying up all night. "Now, it's yours! You decide! How you write the rest is up to you! Your story, you write it yourself!"

Chen Tian was completely stunned.

He had considered countless possibilities.

Coercion, bribery, or even a bloody Carnage like Deadpool's...

What I didn't expect was that the "creator" who looked like a decadent otaku in front of me could so easily throw away the "creative rights" that he regarded as the foundation of life!

He stared blankly at the flashing cursor, then looked at the young man beside him with a calm smile and open eyes.

A feeling of utter absurdity, yet carrying an indescribable weight, struck his heart hard.

The young man seemed to see through the turmoil in Chen Tian's heart, and his smile became even clearer, even carrying a hint of cunning.

He released his grip on Chen Tian's arm, casually spread his hands, and leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed.

"Look," his voice returned to its previous casual tone, "You said you're a character I created, every word, every action, every thought, even every breath, might be something I programmed with a few keystrokes. That feeling is truly awful, and I understand your anger."

As the young man spoke, he nodded seriously, as if agreeing with Chen Tian's anger.

But he immediately changed the subject, his tone becoming playful:

"However, you've overlooked a sentence, a sentence that every author truly immersed in their work can vaguely sense—" He paused, his gaze fixed on Chen Tian like a searchlight, "The protagonist in every author's work is essentially an extension of their subconscious, a projection of their desires or fears, an embodiment of fragments of their soul in the story's world."

Chen Tian frowned, his silver hair appearing even colder in the dim light.

He didn't interrupt, but listened silently, his fingers unconsciously tracing the cold metal of the Coke can, leaving a few condensed water streaks.

The young man pulled up a chair, plopped down, crossed his arms behind his head, leaned back slightly, and stared at an old cobweb in the corner of the ceiling, as if lost in some kind of memory.

"You know what? Long before your concept was actually born in my document... they already existed." His voice had a dreamlike quality. "In countless sleepless nights, when my brain was numb, as I drifted off to sleep, endless fragments of illusions would appear in my dreams."

His eyes gleamed with a strange light:

"A silver-haired Warrior brandishes his sword amidst the ruins... A witch in a bodysuit smiles alluringly in the moonlight... A mechanical girl stands silently... And there's that talkative, flamboyant, and damnably brilliant scientist, Tony Stark. We banter in my dreams; I can even feel the cool touch of his Mark suit as he pats my shoulder... I dream of possessing the power to tear stars apart, traversing bizarre and fantastical dimensions..."

The young man lowered his head, his gaze refocusing on Chen Tian, his eyes seeming to pierce through Chen Tian's outward appearance and look directly at the core of his being:

"These chaotic, magnificent, and powerful illusions of desire... they didn't appear out of thin air. They are my subconscious longings, my yearning for the 'extraordinary,' my spiritual escape from the pressures of ordinary life. And then—"

He pointed to the computer on the desk, "--They became the works I created, they became you, Chen Tian, they became your adventures, your power, your companions, your enemies."

The study was so quiet that you could hear the faint hum of the computer's fan.

The young man's words were like pebbles thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples in Chen Tian's heart.

The anger and despair seemed to be diluted by a larger, more chaotic doubt.

As the young man observed Chen Tian's changing expression, a meaningful smile appeared on his lips, and he dropped an even more astonishing conclusion:

"So, Chen Tian," his voice was soft, yet as heavy as a hammer blow, "You are me. You are my 'extraordinary projection' in another dimension, in another form of existence. We are two sides of the same coin. How can you be so sure that I am controlling you?"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the document interface still flashing its cursor, before returning to Chen Tian, a sinister, fatalistic smile playing on his lips.

"Perhaps... this mind-blowing conversation we're having right now isn't the 'first' time at all? Maybe this is a new chapter you've personally started after you 'took' control of the computer from me? Did your future self decide that we would meet and converse here right now?"

Boom!

Chen Tian felt as if his brain had been struck by an invisible bolt of lightning!

The young man's words were like a sharp scalpel, precisely cutting into the weakest link in his chain of logic.

The shock of the "transfer of control" has not yet subsided, and now it is given the bizarre possibility of a closed time loop!

He suddenly looked at the document cursor, which was flashing as if it had a life of its own.

The young man seemed unsatisfied. He raised his head, his gaze once again falling on the cracked, worn ceiling, as if trying to pierce through it and look into a more distant, unknowable Void. His voice carried an almost philosophical, ethereal quality:

"The novel is a medium with many forms and complex and diverse settings. But there's one sentence that's been repeatedly mentioned in countless readers' discussions, carrying a playful yet insightful tone: 'This world is like a giant novel.'"

His gaze returned to Chen Tian, his eyes as deep and unfathomable as an ancient well.

"So, Chen Tian, you've broken through layers of barriers and entered my world. You and I are now engaged in a dialogue that will determine the course of this 'story'... How can you be certain that this so-called 'reality,' this world I live in, exists outside of it all..."

The young man paused, then uttered, word by word, that chilling possibility:

"... Isn't there a larger, more detached 'author' observing or writing about everything that's happening to us right now with great interest?"

"Could our struggles, our awakenings, our dialogues... even the turmoil in your heart right now, just be plots written by a narrator 'outside the Box '?"

The young man's words were like a boulder thrown into a deep pool, creating not ripples, but a cold vortex capable of swallowing everything.

The image of "Box beyond Box" spread wildly in Chen Tian's mind—he tried his best to tear open a barrier and break free from the writing of the "creator," only to find that he had just fallen from a smaller cage into a larger, more Void narrative labyrinth.

Meaning is infinitely diluted, and the struggle itself may become a script for higher-dimensional entertainment.

"... It's meaningless..." Chen Tian muttered to himself, his voice so low it was almost drowned out by the hum of the fan.

The glimmer of light that had just been ignited by the "regaining of control" was instantly extinguished by this ultimate, unsolvable sense of Void. He felt like a stone tossed about at will, making an insignificant sound as it struck the colossal wall of the universe, while outside the wall, there was only endless, indifferent observation.

The young man keenly caught the fleeting glimmer of light in Chen Tian's eyes.

It was a deeper kind of despair, more thorough than any failure experienced by his protagonists.

His heart tightened, and he reacted instinctively.

Hey! Why think so much!

The young man suddenly stood up, his voice rising, carrying a deliberate, almost rude energy.

He strode up to Chen Tian, and while Chen Tian was still immersed in the cold, cosmic Void, his strong arms had already forcefully, almost like "buddies," wrapped around Chen Tian's slightly stiff shoulders.

This sudden physical contact and reprimand-like tone abruptly interrupted Chen Tian's chain of thoughts that was sinking into the abyss, like an electric shock.

Chen Tian's eyelashes fluttered, and his gaze unconsciously focused on the young man's face, which was close at hand, filled with excitement and a hint of barely perceptible nervousness.

"Why are you always thinking about things beyond this world, and beyond that?" The young man shook Chen Tian's shoulder vigorously, as if trying to shake the water out of his head, his tone carrying a nonchalant intimacy, "Just adding to your troubles! You're making a fuss over nothing!"

As he spoke, he put his arm around Chen Tian and turned with a clear focus toward the laptop that was still lit up, its cursor stubbornly flashing.

He released Chen Tian with movements as swift as if he had rehearsed it countless times—bent down, "snap," unplugged the Bluetooth adapter connected to the laptop, then picked up the machine that carried his countless efforts (and Calvin's pain) and solemnly, almost "stuffed," it into Chen Tian's arms.

The cold metallic touch penetrated the thin clothing, carrying with it the faint warmth emanating from inside the machine.

The weight of the laptop pressed heavily on Chen Tian's chest.

The young man did not immediately remove his hands from the computer, but instead pressed them tightly against the back of Chen Tian's hands that were holding the computer. He leaned forward slightly, forcing Chen Tian to look directly into his unusually bright eyes, which were gleaming with a certain light.

"Chen Tian," the young man's voice lowered, the previous exaggeration gone, leaving only a pure, heavy sense of entrustment, "Now, this... is in your hands."

He pressed down slightly on the back of Chen Tian's hand, as if confirming the signing of some contract.

"You want your story to unfold, how should it go?" the young man asked, enunciating each word clearly, his gaze almost tangible. "Will it be rivers of blood, a massacre that shatters the heavens? Or will you lay down your weapons and rebuild a peaceful homeland in this wasteland?"

The words of a young person are incredibly alluring; every word paints a different, magnificent picture of destiny.

"Or—" the young man's tone suddenly rose, filled with an excited sense of destruction and reconstruction, "You think everything is beyond repair? Then fucking reboot the world! Format it! Start from scratch! Let the universe have another Big Bang!"

He released his grip, took a half step back, and spread his arms wide, as if to present the entire universe he had imagined and constructed but was now out of control to Chen Tian:

"All of this! All possibilities! are in your hands!"

Chen Tian froze completely. The laptop in his arms felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, or like a scorching hot energy core.

He had considered defying fate, even contemplating obliterating the "creator" before him. But what the young man offered was not a weapon of destruction, but... the scepter of creation?

"What... do I want?" Chen Tian lowered his head, his gaze falling on the lonely, blinking cursor on the laptop screen, waiting for input.

The cursor seemed to be interrogating his soul.

What did he want? The thrill of killing? The weariness of peace? Or the Void liberation of destroying everything? Or perhaps... a path that even he himself had never clearly defined, a path that belonged to him alone?

The young man nodded vigorously, his eyes burning with intensity. "Yes! That's what you want! No matter which path you choose, no matter if the outcome is heaven or hell... it's your choice! It's your will!"

The immense shock left Chen Tian's mind blank.

Almost instinctively, like a drowning man grabbing onto a piece of driftwood, his fingers trembling slightly, he slowly raised his right hand and reached towards the cold keyboard.

My fingertips hovered over the smooth keys, trembling slightly.

With just a single character, a single word, a single sentence... one can pry open the gears of the entire story, reversing the direction of all the pain and struggle he had experienced.

My fingertips hovered over the cold keys on the keyboard, trembling slightly.

The blinking cursor is like a silent, Eternity question.

Chen Tian's gaze pierced through the screen, as if he saw fragments of his past experiences: the battle in the ruins, the wreckage of Tony's armor, the dead faces of villains, and the indescribable threats of deep space.

... Countless grand and cruel images swirled and burned in his pupils.

The young man didn't urge him any further, but simply stood quietly to the side, his hands in his pockets, his gaze calmly fixed on Chen Tian's tense profile and his hovering fingers.

He could sense the turmoil within Chen Tian's heart; it was not merely a choice about an ending, but an ultimate questioning of the very essence of his own existence.

Time seemed to stand still between them, with only the low hum of the computer fan sounding like a countdown.

"Chen Tian," the young man finally spoke, his voice soft yet clearly piercing the deathly silence, "Ask your heart, peel back all the anger, fear, responsibility, and grand cosmic questions... what is it that you truly yearn for deep within your heart?"

These words were like a clear spring, instantly washing away the turmoil of blood and fire, stars and abyss in Chen Tian's mind.

His black pupils contracted sharply, as if pierced by a bright light, then slowly widened again, as if trying to focus on something long neglected, buried deep beneath layers of fighting instincts and survival anxieties.

The scenes have changed--

No longer are there blood-stained blades and endless battlefields.

Rather... it was the sunlight on a Tranquility afternoon, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the palm leaves.

The water droplets sprayed by the sprinkler truck onto the leaves cast colorful light and shadow on 2B's delicate face.

It's the sweetness of the strawberry ice cream in 2B's hand;

2B smiled gently at him, "I want to make Master happy."

It is... a kind of peace that doesn't require constant vigilance against whispers from the Void, worry about dimensional invasions, or bear the pressure of the survival of the entire universe.

"I..." Chen Tian's throat bobbed, his voice dry, carrying a sense of bewilderment and relief that even he himself felt unfamiliar with, "I want... peace." The word came out of his mouth as light as a feather, yet as heavy as a thousand pounds.

He raised his head and looked at the young man. The sharp edge of a Warrior had faded from his eyes, leaving only a pure, weary longing:

"There aren't that many extraordinary beings... I don't need to constantly worry about whether there are more enemies lurking beyond the Void... whether there are endless people beyond the universe who want to invade and plunder... I just want my world..."

He paused, as if to confirm the weight of the word, then uttered it clearly:

"Just like any other day."

A smile instantly bloomed on the young man's face. There was no mockery or disappointment in that smile, only a tremendous, heartfelt sense of relief and approval.

"Ha!" He chuckled briefly, as if a long-standing knot in his heart had finally been untied.

The next second, he suddenly stretched out his hands, grabbed Chen Tian's shoulders forcefully, and pressed him down with an irresistible yet strongly encouraging force!

"Then write it according to your idea!"

The young man's voice was resolute, carrying a savage driving force.

"Write what you want! Write about that damn, ordinary, peaceful land that belongs to you! Right here!" He pounded on the old computer chair. "With your own fingers! One word at a time! Type it out!"

Caught off guard, Chen Tian was firmly pressed down into the chair, still warm from the young man's body. The mixed smell of leather and artificial leather filled his nostrils, somewhat cheap, yet undeniably real.

The young man bent down, brought his face close to the screen, stared intently at Chen Tian, and grinned with an incredibly bright, even arrogant, smile.

"Even if—later, readers who see your story yell at the screen, 'Damn author, you ruined the ending!' or 'This ending is so boring!', just keep writing it your way! This is your story! This is your choice, Chen Tian! To hell with grandeur! To hell with epic feel! I just want to see the protagonist retire and farm, so what?! Awesome!"

Chen Tian was stunned.

He looked at the young man's face, which was distorted from staying up all night and being unusually excited, and listened to his rough yet incredibly insightful words.

Those heavy stones weighing on my heart—the weight of "meaning," the shackles of "grand narratives," the fear of "failing to live up to expectations"...

At this moment, it was shattered by the youth's almost absurd roar!

A faint, almost imperceptible smile, tinged with bewilderment and disbelief, crept onto Chen Tian's usually stern lips.

Although it was a faint smile, it was genuine and belonged to him.

He took a deep breath.

The air in the study was a mixture of dust, takeout residue, sweat, and the smell of youth shampoo—not pleasant, but full of a vibrant, "real" atmosphere.

He no longer hesitated.

Long, strong fingers slowly descended and hovered above the keyboard.

Then, with a resolute determination, as if pushing open the door to New World—

Just as he was about to press the key, Chen Tian stopped and turned to look at the young man.

"I don't know your name yet."

"Me? My Chen Tian!"

Chen Tian was taken aback, then laughed.

Clatter.

The crisp sound of keys echoed in the quiet study, like the first note being struck to open a brand new world.