Chapter 186: I Only Want You to Stay Alive
He wasn’t a Challenger— then what was He?
If He wasn’t one, then… were there other Challengers?
Other Supreme Beings of different attributes? But Midnight was a graveyard—if any Supremes of other attributes had failed their “Challenge” and died, their traces should still linger within Midnight. Yet in reality, no other Supreme’s shadow could be seen there—only Him.
He had once died before. Why? Was it a natural fall? Or something else?
If it hadn’t been natural, then whoever could kill Him must’ve been another existence of His level. But if such a being killed Him, where were the others now? Why had no other Supreme appeared since?
He had known from the start that the Federation wasn’t “the whole world.” The Federation was just the Federation. So where had He learned that? Even the Narrator seemed to know the same thing. Where had they learned it?
Now that He had destroyed the Federation—what was He trying to do?
These questions unsettled Xu Zhi. She felt she had already brushed against the key truth, yet her current knowledge was still shackling her—keeping her from pushing open that door called Reality.
“Suppose,” she said softly, “I mean suppose— a world that has only Him, with no believers at all— would that be a good thing for Him?”
Her tone was light, but she knew— the answer to this question would lead directly to a theory she had been forming.
[If we ignore the current circumstances, of course not.]
“Do you know what the Federation used to be?” Xu Zhi asked again, a question that seemed unrelated.
[You’re not entirely wrong about one thing.]
[The Federation is the Federation. It never had a past. History began with the Federation.]
These words didn’t violate any hidden rule. The Narrator received no punishment for saying them.
At first glance, what it said seemed to contradict its earlier probing questions— but when she thought carefully, it didn’t.
Back then, it had merely asked questions, guiding Xu Zhi to think, without drawing any conclusions. And even now, it hadn’t mentioned anything beyond the Federation; it had only described the Federation itself.
Xu Zhi had never once thought about “what came before the Federation.” But now, once she did think about it—she realized something was terribly wrong. Why did the Federation have no “before”?
Everything in existence could be traced back to its origin— so why couldn’t the Federation?
Unless… it had simply appeared out of nothing. A world born without history—a completely new creation.
The Narrator hadn’t stated this outright. Instead, it had dropped riddles, leading her step by step to that realization. But Xu Zhi understood—that was exactly what it meant.
In fact, by avoiding any mention of what lay beyond the Federation, it was already confirming that such a “beyond” existed.
If the world truly consisted only of the Federation, why ask those questions at all? The only reason to ask was to tell Xu Zhi— the world did not end with the Federation.
So, where had they learned those truths—truths no native of the Federation could possibly know?
Naturally—from elsewhere.
Xu Zhi even began to suspect that the Fragment she’d once seen had also been something brought from outside, hidden within Midnight.
If that was true…
Then she already had a bold, frightening guess.
Why was there only a [Cup]-attribute Supreme?
Why had the Federation suddenly appeared?
And how could it continue to exist like this?
What was He really trying to do?
Xu Zhi now had her answers.
She exhaled softly.
“Then what does that make us— the people living inside the Federation?”
[Ordinary humans.]
Of course. Ordinary humans.
Just like the ones she had once looked down on with cold detachment. Just like those who died in Cloud City when the Federation’s high command launched the nukes. Just like the countless beings now dissolving into flesh and energy within His grand array.
In essence—they were all the same. Expendable, forsaken, ordinary humans.
“What rotten luck,” she muttered. “To be born in the Federation.”
[Indeed.]
“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at the handheld console in her palm—it seemed on the verge of dying.
[I’m fine. I just need to hold on a little longer.]
The Narrator could not lie. So Xu Zhi relaxed a little.
She didn’t want to overthink whether the console was an “external artifact” or from another world entirely. It had been by her side from the start—helping her again and again.
Strange as it was, she now saw this lifeless little device as a companion— the only being in this world she truly trusted.
She still had many questions. But seeing how weak the console looked, she didn’t dare ask too many—afraid that another few questions might be the end of it.
After a long pause, she asked quietly,
“Do you want to do the same thing He does?”
The Narrator seemed taken aback. Then it answered firmly:
[No.]
[I only want you to stay alive.]
[What He’s doing is far too risky. But if you wish it, I’ll help you.]
[Though by now, it’s not about whether you want to or not— you must.]
Yes.
She had to.
If she wanted to uncover the truth—to shatter the shackles of extraordinary power—even just to survive—she would have to inherit what He had begun.
“But… how?” she asked, bewildered.
“How do I even start?”
That colossal being—even wounded—was far beyond her reach. And now that she understood part of the truth, she knew—this was not yet the time to strike.
[Don’t rush. You already have a lead, don’t you?]
[Wait for the right moment.]
Even in such a tense moment, Xu Zhi couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’ve really gotten attached to that phrase lately.”
[…Stop being cheeky.]
As they exchanged words, the safehouse built by the small aberrant creature suddenly withdrew—not because it was out of energy, but because the outside world was no longer immediately dangerous.
All the radiation and heat in Cloud City had already been drawn away by Him. What remained was little enough that Xu Zhi’s self-healing could handle it easily.
When the creature’s branches finally dropped away, Xu Zhi saw the world clearly again— the ruined Cloud City lying between the real and the unreal of Midnight.
The city that had endured so many disasters was now completely barren, its once-bustling streets reduced to ash.
And standing tall amid that wasteland, unshaken even by the apocalypse— was the one who had started it all.
