When the White Room lit up, sound vanished first.
Communications, the wind, the water in the passage-all were shut outside. Lu Wenchuan heard his own heartbeat, beat after beat, in time with the light on the White Room's walls.
Xu Zhihan stood beside him, his face a little paler than before, his fingertips hanging beneath his sleeves. He did not immediately use his divine spark.
The chair in the middle of the room was ordinary, with a metal back, gray leather upholstery, and worn armrests, like an examination chair commonly found in hospitals. But beneath it were nothing but threads, burrowing densely into the white floor and connecting to unseen depths.
Lu Wenchuan looked at the two threads on the armrests.
"It wants us to sit?"
Xu Zhihan said coldly, "You can try."
Lu Wenchuan smiled. "On second thought, no."
As soon as he finished speaking, a mirror appeared behind the chair.
They were not in the mirror.
There was only a severed fate line.
One end connected to Lu Wenchuan, the other to the snow-white steps beneath the Divine Throne. Xu Zhihan stood on the steps, holding four Fragments and looking down at Lu Wenchuan.
The Xu Zhihan in the mirror raised his hand and removed the Fragment from Lu Wenchuan's fate.
Lu Wenchuan collapsed in the mirror.
In reality, a sudden pain shot through Lu Wenchuan's wrist.
He looked down and saw blood seeping through the gauze, spreading outward along the Line-Sealing Patch.
Xu Zhihan raised his hand and pressed it against the mirror.
"Shatter."
The mirror did not shatter.
The scene in it continued.
After the Fragment returned to Xu Zhihan's palm, the Divine Throne lit up. Xu Zhihan climbed the steps one by one, his figure swallowed by snowy white. Below the steps, the lights of