The So-Called Truth

Han Qi still did not answer, but his actions had already tacitly admitted what he had done.

Seeing that Han Qi was unwilling to answer, Mo Ling froze for a moment before slowly backing away.

As he retreated, he stared in disbelief at that familiar figure.

"How many stories did you make up?"

"Were they all meant to deceive me?"

"What good did that do you?"

Han Qi stood there facing Mo Ling, utterly still, with no emotion visible on his face.

"I am telling you the truth," he said softly.

"But all of this is fake..."

"Even if it is fake, it is still the truth. It is merely presented in the form of a stage. What you felt was fake, but what I wanted to tell you was real."

"You mean all that stuff about freedom?" Mo Ling retorted. "If all of this is fake, how can you prove that those things truly exist?"

"I cannot prove it, but that is the truth," Han Qi replied blandly. "You can choose to continue drowning in 'reality,' or awaken within the 'illusion' I created. That is your right... but it seems you have already made your choice."

Han Qi was still trying to persuade Mo Ling, but Mo Ling could no longer believe him.

"Were those gazes I felt real?"

That was the only thing Mo Ling wanted to know.

"I can build a stage, and creating some watchful gazes is naturally very easy. There are countless eyes above the Abyssal Hole. I only need to pick a few at random and project them down, or project one gaze into many. Either way, I can achieve that effect..."

As he listened to Han Qi's explanation, the last shred of Mo Ling's trust collapsed.

"You... could have chosen not to tell