At that moment, the Terminal Origin Constructed World finally broke its silence. It did not speak, nor did it manifest any concrete will. Instead, the entire fifteenth floor of space simultaneously tilted in a barely perceptible yet irreversible manner, as if some kind of "permitted surface" that transcended time and space had been flipped. The light stream that was originally suspended in nothingness began to rearrange itself, and layers upon layers of world afterimages unfolded in the void, only to be folded into a higher-dimensional structure in the instant of unfolding. This was not the evolution of the world, but a retrospective reconstruction of a super-five-dimensional logical causality. The fifteenth floor was not the "end point," but a boundary node used to confirm the "final ownership of the right of judgment." And this node was not prepared for any tower climber from the very beginning.
Wan He took a step forward. Her footsteps landed silently, yet they resonated throughout the entire Terminal Origin Constructed World like a pulsating echo, as if a mark suppressed for countless epochs had finally been pressed down. At this moment, her figure was no longer confined to human form, but completely overlapped with the origin of the Void Authority World-Annihilating. The concept of the sword, the meaning of judgment, and the dual structure of returning to zero and allowing were interwoven within her. She was not "recognizing this place as her master," but rather being confirmed by this layer—she was the missing link here.
The fifteen-story space began to "give way" to her, not by retreating, but by actively adjusting its own causal weight. Those high-level judgment trajectories that should have only existed in the World Beyond Worlds began to revolve around Wan He. Each trajectory was neither an attack nor a test, but a verification. They passed through her past, present, and unwritten future, but all returned to zero the moment they touched her core. Because her very existence was a response to the "incomplete final judgment." She was the Void Authority World-Annihilating Divine Sword, the living solution left behind by the Ultimate Terminal Origin Constructed World when it could not complete the final negation.
At that very moment, a familiar yet lighthearted aura descended silently. Azure Ring appeared unnoticed, sitting steadily on Qin Yu's right shoulder. Her small figure swung her legs, but her gaze was unusually serious. She said softly, "Little Qinzi, this final level is that little girl's opportunity. You just need to protect her. You don't need to intervene on this level."
Qin Yu's gaze never left Wan He. He responded in a low voice, "Wan He's opportunity? No wonder I also found Wan He a bit strange."
Azure Ring nodded, azure soul light swirling in her hair, her tone certain. "Yes, according to my senses, there's something here that's perfect for her—not a weapon, not power, but the 'right to the missing' that she must reclaim."
Qin Yu paused for a moment, then exhaled softly, a barely perceptible smile appearing on his lips, "Alright, then we'll just be spectators. I won't intervene unless absolutely necessary."
At this moment, the light of the Terminal Origin Constructed World completely converged, and all outward-looking judgment structures began to converge towards Wan He. The true core of the fifteenth layer finally emerged. It was not a static treasure, but an unfinished "ultimate power logic," waiting for her to continue it in the name of the Void Authority World-Annihilating.
The step Wan He took did not cause any spatial fluctuations, nor did it leave any trace of tearing dimensions. The Terminal Origin Constructed World seemed to blink lightly, and she was completely "removed" from Qin Yu and Azure Ring's perception. It was not a transfer, nor a sealing, but a higher-level arrangement—she was listed as an "enterable object" separately, while all other existences were excluded by default.
When her consciousness re-coagulated, Wan He found herself no longer in any place that could be called a "layer".
There is no sky, no earth; all around is an endless gray void. The gray is not a color, but the afterimage left by all colors after they have been stripped of their meaning. The concept of distance is invalid here. She cannot tell whether she is moving, because the entire space itself is like a still yet constantly self-renewing whole, so quiet that the word "quiet" itself seems superfluous.
In the center of this Ruins Realm, a huge and condensed black crystal floats.
Its shape resembles a heart, yet it lacks any vitality; it resembles a core, yet it does not release power outward. It simply exists, stable, indifferent, and irreplaceable. The surface of the black crystal is covered with extremely fine dark patterns. These patterns are neither runes nor arrays, but rather more like some kind of "termination trajectory" compressed to the Limit. Each dark pattern seems to record the echo of a world that has been completely erased.
The Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source.
This name did not come from any declaration, but rather from the automatic cognition that emerged from Wan He's own nature the moment she saw it. It was not understanding, but rather "being allowed to know."
Under the presence of the Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source, the surrounding gray void exhibited a strange stability, without fluctuations or erosion, yet it instinctively made one realize that this was not a safe place, but rather that things had not yet begun. It was as if the entire Ruins Realm was waiting for a certain trigger condition, and once it was activated, even the possibility of "turning back" would be eliminated in advance.
Just then, Wan He sensed that an extremely hidden, yet absolutely irreversible structure was slowly taking shape.
That wasn't a formation, nor was it the unfolding of a test; it was a kind of "qualification calibration." She wasn't attacked, nor was she scrutinized, but she clearly realized that there was an Ultimate test here called the Nine Ruins Annihilation Trial. It wasn't designed for strength, nor was it opened for wisdom, and it didn't respond to fate or will.
The Nine Ruins Annihilation Trial will only be allowed to start after the "potential for bearing" has been confirmed. The trial has not yet begun.
The Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source still hovered in the center of the void, the gray Ruins Realm resembling a frozen sea, and Wan He stood within it, clearly knowing one thing—
Once the trial truly begins, she will no longer be able to exist as an "observer." This is merely the entrance. The end is yet to come.
The gray, Ruins Realm changed silently.
It wasn't a distortion of space, nor the arrival of power, but rather the collapse of the "story" itself.
Wan He stood still and noticed that the boundless grayness around her had suddenly developed extremely fine cracks, like a book that had already been written and was being slowly torn open from the cover. Within the cracks, there was neither light nor darkness, only a kind of blankness that instinctively resisted—a state of "not yet narrated".
The Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source trembled slightly.
It was neither a summons nor a command, but an absolutely calm statement of fact unfolding in the Ruins Realm —the first trial had been permitted to begin.
The Ruin of Narrative. At this moment, Wan He clearly "saw" her own narrative.
It's not about remembering images, but about a structure that's deeper than memory:
Her birth, the moment she was forged, every judgment she made as the Void Authority World-Annihilating Divine Sword, her first transformation, the first time she was seen by others, the first time she experienced the fluctuation of "self"... These are not arranged linearly, but rather like countless intersecting narrative lines, suspended around her consciousness, interconnected with each other, constituting all the reasons why the world can understand the existence of "Wan He".
As long as these narratives exist, she is "reasonable." As long as these stories hold true, she is "permitted."
Now, the test demands that she—deny all of this herself. Wan He slowly raised her hand.
The Void Authority World-Annihilating Divine Sword did not appear in physical form, but instead transformed into an almost invisible "line of severance," hovering in her palm. It was neither sword light nor energy, but a judicious outline specifically designed to sever the legitimacy of narratives.
The true name of the first skill naturally emerges at this moment.
Narrative Severance and reconstruction. This sword is not meant to strike the enemy.
Instead, it slashes at everything that has ever been told about itself.
Wan He did not hesitate.
The moment the line of severance fell, the entire Ruins Realm seemed to lose its direction of "past". She saw her own birth story collapse first, and those narratives about "why she was created" and "what mission she was given" instantly lost their support, turning into large swaths of blank dust, like chapters with their titles erased.
Next came the name.
The name "Wan He" only lasted for a fleeting moment in her consciousness before fading, shattering, and dissipating. It wasn't deleted, but rather automatically determined by the world as "not worth keeping." She tried to utter the name again in her heart, only to find that she could no longer confirm whether it had ever truly existed.
Subsequently, more narratives began to break down.
The details of her encounter with Qin Yu, the ceremony of being recognized as his master, the repeated calls of "Young Master," and even her understanding of Azure Ring —all the stories that were once used to prove "who she is" are being severed one by one. Each break takes away an emotion, a tendency, and a layer of meaning.
She felt no pain. Because "pain" itself is also a narrative outcome.
As the narrative is severed, even the ability to understand "what I am losing" dissipates in sync.
When the last narrative thread Time Splitting, the Ruins Realm fell into true stillness.
The Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source trembled slightly once more. The world began to automatically repair its vulnerabilities.
In all possible timelines, the existence of "Wan He" is relabeled as -- never appeared.
It was not forged, not awakened, and not held by anyone.
The memories of all those who have ever crossed paths with her will be naturally overwritten and logically filled in, leaving no questions unanswered.
In the center of the Ruins Realm, only one figure remained standing.
She still exists, but she no longer has a name, no longer has an origin, and no longer has a past that can be told.
She could not recall who she was, nor could she confirm where she came from.
She knew only one thing—at this moment, she was still standing.
The dark patterns on the Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source lit up for a moment, then fell silent again.
The first trial is over. But the truly terrifying thing is that after passing this trial, she can't even "remember" what she has passed.
There is no "transition" in the Ruins Realm.
One moment, the "present" remained, stripped bare to its Ultimate; the next, even the "present" seemed to have been gently lifted from the page—the gray ground beneath Wan He's feet suddenly shattered into countless irregular geometric pieces, seamless yet unconnected, as if the world had been dismantled into countless mutually contradictory answers. The Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source still hung in the distance, but its outline began to appear and disappear intermittently, each pulse seeming to proclaim: the axioms, order, and reasoning you relied on are all no longer valid.
The second Ruins Realm descends: the Ruin of Logic.
She looked up and saw that the "maze" was not walls and paths, but an absurd structure covering the entire Ruins Realm: countless transparent cubes, inverted staircases, endlessly extending bridges, and doors that passed through each other with identical doors behind them; even more terrifying, all the structures were constantly rearranging—not moving, but "reversing the rules." The staircase that led forward one moment became the one under her feet the next; the bridge that was solid one moment suddenly became a concept that "never existed" the next, and her steps fell into Emptiness, but Emptiness would suddenly become solid during the fall, bouncing her back to some completely unrelated location.
The real calamity lies in the permanent formation of "Logic Collapse".
She saw a ray of light coming from the left, which should have cast a shadow, but the shadow appeared first, and the light arrived late. She tried to confirm the direction with her eyes, but the "far" in the distance would suddenly become "near," and the "near" in the near place would become "never near" in the next instant. She tried to construct a complete thought in her mind, but found that the framework of language collapsed like wet sand, and she could not even steadily describe "what I am thinking."
She has no narrative left.
No name, no origin, no past to recall. Thus, at this moment, she is left with only an empty shell of "existence," wandering through absurdity—which ironically brings her closer to the possibility of "passing through" than anyone still relying on their own story, because the Ruin of Logic doesn't demand explanation, but survival; it doesn't demand understanding, but the discovery of the sole "anti-logical path."
She took the first step.
The ground beneath her feet suddenly transformed into a mirror, reflecting a "her" image. But that "her" moved a fraction of a second faster, as if knowing her next move. Wan He instinctively tried to reason, but the initial concept was shattered into fragments—she could only grasp at a "stable point" through an older, more instinctive intuition. She focused her mind, letting the chaos surge in from all directions, neither resisting nor explaining, but using an almost cold sense of judgment to filter: which changes would kill her, which were merely noise, and which concealed the "foreign object" that was the only way out.
She soon discovered that the maze was not completely random.
It has a threshold—when she tries to "understand," the chaos doubles; when she abandons understanding and only makes judgmental choices, the chaos briefly subsides, as if waiting for her to step on a certain permitted node. So she no longer tries to construct "cause and effect," but treats each step as the landing point of a sword: she goes left, not because left is more reasonable, but because left is "less likely to kill her" at this moment; she stops, not because she needs to think, but because stopping itself will cause a rearranged trajectory to miss her.
Her figure sped through the absurd labyrinth, the scene like a silent disaster movie: inverted staircases flipped instantly beneath her feet, giant cubes folded and unfolded like a tide; she was flung into the air by "rising falls," only to be pushed back to her original position by "falling rises"; a door opened not into space, but into a shower of shattered formulas, the formulas tearing through the air like shards of glass, yet turning into petals the instant they touched her, the petals instantly burning into ice upon landing.
She finally stumbled upon a clue to the "only correct, illogical path"—an invisible trajectory.
The trajectory wasn't shown as light or a path, but rather as a brief silence surrounding the absurdity as she moved in a certain direction. That moment of silence was extremely short, like the interval between heartbeats, yet it was enough for her to confirm: the exit wasn't in the "rational" place, but in the place where "chaos temporarily refused to devour you." So she began to chase those gaps of silence, taking each silence as a permitted guide.
But just as she was about to step into the core of that silent path, the Ruin of Logic launched a counterattack.
The entire maze suddenly unfolded into a massive "axiomless storm"—countless paths appeared simultaneously from all directions, each one like an exit, each one tempting her to "deduce," to re-establish cause and effect and logic. The storm even produced the illusion of the "correct answer": she saw "Exit" written on a doorframe, a steady light at the end of the stairs, and clear arrows appearing on the ground... But her judgmental instincts were sharper than any rationality at this moment: the more these things resembled answers, the more they were traps.
She abruptly withdrew her consciousness, forcing herself back into a emptier, colder, and purer state—like a sword stripped of all its ornaments, left only with the function of "slashing." Then, she made a completely counterintuitive choice: she turned and walked towards the most absurd, impossible, and least exit-like area—a hollow zone devoid of direction, form, and any clues, as if even a maze was too lazy to fabricate illusions here.
The moment she stepped into the void, the world fell silent. The storm ceased.
Those tempting "answers" vanished like flames being extinguished. Deep within the void, a tiny crack appeared. Behind the crack, there was no light, no door, only a certainty that "if you continue forward, you will leave this ruin"—this is the anti-logical path: not leaving through the answer, but leaving through "rejecting the answer."
Wan He walked into the crack. When the crack closed, the Ruin of Logic gave its price.
Her rationality seemed to have been stripped of its skeleton. She could feel certain most fundamental axioms collapsing deep within her consciousness: the chain of cause and effect could no longer be fully connected, the certainty of mathematics became distant, and language was no longer a solid bridge, but more often just a surging fragment of intuition. She could still act, still judge, still make choices, but she could no longer "understand why the world is the way it is" as she once did.
The Heart of the Limitless Ruin Source trembled slightly. The second level was passed.
She stood in the gray void, clearly alive, yet seemingly forced into a deeper state of chaotic lucidity—a lucidity so profound that no reason was needed, a chaos so complete that no reason could be established.
The outline of the next Ruins Realm has already silently formed in the distance.