Time seemed to stretch into solidified amber at that moment.
The chaotic fluctuations powerful enough to "format" reality stopped abruptly, like a waterfall cut off at its source.
Distorted space and garbled matter returned to normal in an instant.
The ominous black "stone" hovering above the altar lost all its luster and activity. With a clack, it fell to the ground, becoming an utterly ordinary piece of scorched meteoric iron.
It was as though the catastrophe that had nearly overturned everything they knew had been nothing more than an absurd dream.
The cold aura of "divinity" surrounding the members of the Levee unit receded like a tide.
In its place came the exhaustion of surviving a disaster, and... the indescribable horror in their eyes as they looked at their captain.
Minato Namikaze still held his kunai pressed against the stone.
He stood quietly, eyes closed, utterly motionless, like a perfect sculpture.
No one dared speak. No one dared move.
They could sense that somewhere beyond their sight, a war ten thousand times more perilous than what had just happened was raging.
This was deep within Minato Namikaze's consciousness.
Here stood a quiet library that stretched on forever.
Every book represented a memory, a piece of knowledge, an emotion.
The shelves were neatly ordered, the light soft and bright. The air carried the comforting scent of paper mingled with sunshine.
This was the core of Minato Namikaze's mind-a well-ordered world built from logic, responsibility, and warmth.
But a "virus" had broken in.
It had no form and made no sound.
It was simply pure "NULL," an absolute "null value."
The instant it appeared, the books recording the "Will of Fire" on the nearest row of shelves began to turn into "garbled data."
Words dissolved into meaningless pixels, and the pages