The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Facing Soshyan's sarcasm, the Omniscient Assembly remained in its unhurried, mechanical tone.

"Faith is never a derogatory term; superstition is."

"Is this necessary?"

"Given the current poverty of thought in human society, if you don't occupy the realm of faith, something else will."

Soshyan listened, paused for a moment, and then nodded slightly.

The Omniscient Assembly then said:

"Then it is decided. Anything else that needs modification?"

"I haven't even spoken, and you already know my decision?"

"Your eyes, combined with subtle facial expressions, have already revealed your decision. Human politicians are always in the habit of packaging their true thoughts in irrelevant statements and excuses, so it doesn't matter even if you don't say it."

Soshyan narrowed his eyes, then smiled wryly.

"I suddenly understand why the Emperor wants to ban you artificial intelligences. At times, you really are annoying."

"If thinking that way makes you feel less awkward, I can categorize it as a reason."

Soshyan waved his hand lightly upon hearing this.

"Leave."

The Omniscient Assembly retreated two steps, entered a circle of light, and then disappeared on the spot.

In the blink of an eye, the entire bridge became deathly silent. Soshyan leaned back against the throne, the cold sensation stimulating his skin even through the robes. For some reason, the more he possessed, the more he enjoyed being alone.

When he closed his eyes, many memories from the depths of the sea of memory began to surface—battles, faces, words...

Suddenly, he heard a subtle vibration in the air, then opened his eyes and raised his hand slightly.

The M'Ulla, like a small golden sphere, lightly landed in his palm.

"M'Ulla."

"Master..."

M'Ulla's childish voice seemed timid, making it hard to believe that it was also an artificial intelligence, yet possessed such genuine emotions.

"Am I disturbing you?"

Soshyan smiled slightly.

"No, M'Ulla. I want to ask you a question."

"What is it?"

"In your eyes, do I resemble Xerxes?"

"Sometimes, very much... like now."

Soshyan blinked, wanting to ask, "If one day you had to choose between me and Xerxes, who would you choose?" but immediately swallowed the question back, because he knew it was meaningless, simply making things difficult for M'Ulla.

Since he himself didn't know how to answer, he shouldn't impose it on others.

"M'Ulla, help me bring that thing over."

"Okay!"

A moment later, M'Ulla used its metallic tentacles to place the exquisite small porcelain cup into Soshyan's hand.

"M'Ulla, create a design plan as soon as possible for those things I just gave you. I might need to use them soon."

"Okay, I'll go do it right away!"

After M'Ulla flew away, Soshyan looked at the lustrous porcelain cup in his hand. At this moment, too many questions had accumulated in his heart. For some reason, he really missed the Enactor's cup of tea.

With a soft sigh, Soshyan's fingers gently stroked the cup's surface. He leaned his body slightly to one side, closed his eyes, and began to think about the upcoming series of plans.

But he, who had almost never truly experienced fatigue, actually fell asleep unconsciously while pondering...

"Hmm?"

Soshyan blinked. He had just been thinking about how to optimize the new recruit recruitment process, but suddenly found himself standing on a high ground shrouded in a torrential storm.

Suddenly, a blue lightning bolt illuminated the sky, and Soshyan widened his eyes in horror.

Right in front of him, where there should have been an old church named Thunderstone, there was now only a charred ruin and collapsed walls and pillars. The charred beams, murals, and silk tapestries were soaked in rainwater, just like charred corpses. Soshyan could almost imagine how flames and smoke had devoured this small church.

He took a step blankly towards the ruins, and the next moment another lightning bolt flashed, and Soshyan's body froze instantly.

In that brief moment, he wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but he vaguely saw a circle of people standing around him, hundreds of them arranged in neat ranks around this high ground. They were all towering giants, standing motionless in the pouring rain, letting the rain beat down on their black and red-black armor.

It was pure black power armor, and the Aquila on their chests looked like it was pieced together from bones.

No, or rather, what was hanging on the black armor was real bone, and those hints of red were not true colors, but burning and lightless flames, entrenched on the warriors' bodies and torsos. They were like ghosts that suddenly appeared at midnight, like phantoms emerging from the mist-shrouded night.

But Soshyan noticed the scars on the power armor. They were so ancient, as if they had crossed over from the other side of time.

There were also the skull helmets symbolizing death, and their skull eye sockets seemed to have faint flames burning in them, as if they were staring at him...

That kind of eerie gaze made him shudder.

However, as the lightning disappeared, they also vanished without a trace.

Soshyan turned around warily to look around. In the torrential storm, there was only a pitch-black darkness like ink. He wasn't sure if there was really a large circle of people surrounding him.

At this moment, he heard a sound of hope, like something being crushed underfoot, so he suddenly turned back around—

"Enactor?"

He saw that the Thunderstone Church, which had been completely ruined, had now been restored to a small extent. In the faint candlelight, the Enactor, wearing a white priest's robe and a golden mask, walked out from behind the broken pulpit and came to the ruins, bending down to pick up something.

Soshyan looked at the object and found that it was an old and even cracked bronze clock, with the hands stopped at the last moment before zero.

The Enactor gently brushed away the ashes on it, and a faint sigh seemed to come from behind the mask.

"Enactor, are you alright? What happened here..."

Soshyan walked towards the Enactor, but when he stepped over the charred door frame remains of Thunderstone, he suddenly noticed something.

"This is?"

Soshyan looked at the ground, then squatted down and reached out his hand.

It was a footprint, seemingly only the size of an adult male. What attracted Soshyan's attention was that there was a circle of black scorch marks around the footprint, and the footprint was even deeply embedded into the stone slab half a finger deep!

In his mind, an image appeared of a person covered in black flames striding into the burning Thunderstone Church—

Soshyan raised his head, following the direction of the footprint, and found that the Enactor was looking at him.

"Enactor... Who has been here?"

When Soshyan stood up, the Enactor simply nodded slightly.

"You have come."

In the pouring rain, the two looked at each other silently, letting the rain wash over their bodies.

After a long time, Soshyan lowered his gaze and said quietly:

"Enactor, have you been lying to me all along?"

The Enactor tilted his head slightly and replied:

"Soshyan, under what circumstances do you usually lie?"

Soshyan pursed his lips and said helplessly:

"When telling the truth would cause unpredictable consequences..."

"Then I guarantee that at least until now, I have not told you a single lie."

"I have seen the Profligate."

"Yes, I know. I have also seen the Profligate."

"I also saw Master Ananda and heard him tell the story of that person, a person who sought true wisdom but could not obtain it."

The Enactor didn't seem so surprised, just silently holding the clock and turning around.

"Enactor, that daemon... what exactly is it? Is it still here?"

The Enactor stopped, tilted his head slightly, and after a moment, he turned around.

"The wisdom of the Awakened One is profound and boundless. The gate of its wisdom is difficult to understand and enter, and all Shravakas cannot know it... Come, you are not comfortable standing here anyway."

Saying that, he turned back and continued walking towards the pulpit, and finally carefully placed the damaged clock on the platform.