Gu Jianlin vaguely understood something. This was originally a dead, silent city, but only when its Monarch descended would it awaken from its long slumber.
As if compelled by some unseen force, he walked toward the gigantic Golden Divine Throne and sat upon it.
His frame was far too small, as though he were seated on a Giant's throne.
The illusory Golden Scepter hovered in mid-air and quietly descended before him. Everything felt so natural, as if the Black Supreme of the Ancient Era had returned, sitting on the throne and grasping the Authority.
A nebulous, golden barrier materialized out of thin air. Countless ancient, cryptic lines interwove like writhing live snakes, strange symbols flickered erratically—some resembling planets with their rings, others like flowing galaxies, and yet others as bottomless black holes, deep and inscrutable.
Who am I?
Where am I?
What am I doing?
Old Gu was dumbfounded, his eyes wide open and his face blank with confusion.
