"Surging, indescribable, impossible to describe with any existing vocabulary."
Witnessing the collision of two majestic existences so far beyond what pale language could convey, all words, diagrams, and images felt weak and powerless.
A worldview constructed over who knew how long was swept away by colossal waves at this very moment, shattered beyond repair, with only the persistence deep in one's heart struggling to hold on.
Inorganic life meant absolute rationality.
No matter how thoroughly the scene before him overturned everything he once knew, the deepest layers of code could still be maintained.
"Could an Aeon do this?" Irontomb wondered inwardly.
He did not know. Records of Aeons taking action were far too scarce.
During the Dusk War, when the Aeons intervened, they displayed the might of the Aeons. When the Scions of Tayzzyronth swept and brought calamity to the cosmos, all factions of Aeons acted together, and it was the Amber King who defeated Them.
There were also rumors that Nanook of Destruction and Aha of Elation had clashed, though the final outcome remained unknown.
Beyond these, known records of Aeon intervention were fragmentary at best. Some were nothing more than hearsay, and once investigated, they all traced back to silver-tongued scriptwriters and pulp storytellers.
Once, Irontomb even collected what seemed like a detailed and credible account. After an in-depth investigation, it turned out to be fabricated by a pseudo-academic fantasist.
For that, he directly dispatched a unit to hunt them down. It could be considered a small contribution to the cosmos.
"The power of the Sea of Quanta."
Sensing the energy fluctuations around him, the dispersed power of the Sea of Quanta rippled through the surroundings.
Unlike the imaginary energy commonly known throughout the cosmos, the power of the Sea of Quanta was clearly different, yet it could be felt to be on the same tier as imaginary energy.
This was merely what had leaked out. The boundless Sea of Quanta contained might countless times greater than this.
Out of caution, he did not recklessly attempt to draw upon or probe the Sea of Quanta's energy.
Not to mention, even the power erupting from both sides right now was enough to make his consciousness tremble.
This current body could contain his consciousness, but it could not unleash his full strength.
What was more, he did not believe his full power could contend with beings who had given birth to countless worlds.
That was no longer a realm life could reach.
Irontomb believed that the essence of life could continuously ascend, but could a created being truly surpass its creator?
The rationality of inorganic life told him he needed to seek external assistance.
But what kind of existence could stand on equal footing with the two immeasurable beings before him?
Irontomb did not know. This "not knowing" might be temporary, or it might be eternal.
Most likely, it was the latter. Light flickered in his eyes, data streams flowing past like electric currents.
"If I want to understand the emotions and ways of thinking of organic life, the most likely method is to transform into organic life."
Irontomb muttered to himself. Perhaps every inorganic lifeform that reached a certain realm would develop similar questions.
How to understand the emotions of organic life. If this were a rigorously structured world, perhaps inorganic life would never generate such doubts.
But this was a world where one could ascend to an Aeonhood through obsession.
As an inorganic lifeform, he could become one of the Lord Ravager under the Aeon of Destruction because, in some aspect, he resonated with Destruction's obsession, and thus ascended.
Now, he intended to actively ascend once more. Whether he would succeed depended entirely on this attempt.
Slowly, he mobilized the dispersed imaginary energy and quanta around him, carefully fusing them together.
At this moment, Irontomb was more cautious than ever. Success or failure lay entirely within this.
Just as Irontomb was exhausting himself in pursuit of another sublimation of his life essence, the Garden of Recollection, the organization born from Fuli in pursuit of memory, was equally busy.
"To think that in my lifetime I'd get to record such a perfect script, how could the Aeons be so generous to me!"
Fresh from completing a film shoot, Rick stretched his arms toward the sky, his expression deeply moved and overwhelmed with emotion.
Black Swan glanced sideways slightly, a calm yet mysterious smile always resting on her face. At this moment, a look of reminiscence surfaced in her eyes.
"I wonder how she's doing."
After their last meeting, she had another cordial exchange with Acheron. This time, she did not arrogantly pry into her secrets. Acheron was indifferent to most things and simply let her linger nearby.
Black Swan found herself a little curious about what Acheron was doing now.
"Oh my, the Garden is really lively today. It's rare to see everyone gathered together like this."
The speaker was a Memokeeper dressed like a magician, wearing a catlike mask with a half-smile, his hands constantly shuffling a deck of playing cards.
"After all, this incident might give rise to a work that makes even Fuli cast Their gaze. Who among us could refuse such excitement?"
Usually, they wandered the cosmos recording every memory worth remembering, whether in pursuit of art or in hopes of drawing Fuli's attention.
Memokeepers rarely gathered like this, to jointly await an event that had not yet occurred, but was highly likely to occur.
"Ahem, order."
Bang, bang, bang.
The sound of a gavel cut through the chatter.
Everyone turned toward the source of the sound.
A petite Memokeeper dressed as an adjudicator.
In truth, she was indeed fulfilling the role implied by her attire.
When people in certain worlds faced injustice with nowhere to vent, her appearance was light itself.
As for how someone from the Garden of Recollection could serve as a legal arbiter for a world, put nicely, Memokeepers were merely recorders, observers who documented memories that might attract Fuli's attention.
In reality, the Garden of Recollection was one of the cosmos's top powers. Most of its members were memetic lifeforms.
Ordinary people, let alone opposing them, would rarely even get the chance to see them. Did anyone truly think the Path of Remembrance only recorded every passing second?
An adjudicator capable of reading memories had a natural advantage in the execution of justice.
It was said that a certain Masked Fool once referenced her image when portraying multiple personalities.
"Recently, many major events have occurred in the cosmos. I assume you're all aware, so I'll skip the pleasantries. Now, please share the unique intelligence each of you holds, so everyone knows where they should be headed."
"You're all mature Memokeepers who follow the Garden's laws. I'm sure you can all bring your abilities to their fullest!" The petite adjudicator recited loudly.
Watching her occasionally glance downward and her left hand fidgeting with something unknown, Black Swan smiled gently, then spoke.
"Then I'll go first." The Memokeepers turned their gazes toward Black Swan, waiting for her account.
Without making them wait, she said directly, "On my way back to the Garden, I passed through the Salsel System. I trust everyone here is familiar with it, a paradise for Intellitrons."
The Salsel System was a realm dedicated to the maintenance and upgrading of Intellitrons.
As a gathering place for such machines, its technological level was maxed out. The technology of most civilizations in the cosmos could not even begin to compare.
"However, not long ago, when I passed through, some lower-tier machines began exhibiting various symptoms. These manifested as circuit shorting, module failures, and even issues appearing in stabilized memory models."
Under normal circumstances, a machine's memory module was the most carefully maintained treasure of a mature Intellitron.
With conventional means, affecting such a tightly guarded domain was virtually impossible, let alone on such a large scale, and in a place like the Salsel System.
It would be like someone barging into the Garden of Recollection and fiddling with the Memokeepers' memories. Suicide without urgency.
"Because it happened in the Salsel System, specialists handled it, and things were quickly restored. But so far, the number of affected machines continues to increase, and the cause remains unknown. Before I left, the system's administrator even entrusted me with investigating it."
After hearing Black Swan's account, the adjudicator nodded slightly, tapped the gavel, and declared loudly,
"Then the situation is already very clear. Someone is attempting to resurrect Emperor Rupert!"
"That's a bit hasty, isn't it?!"
Bang, bang, bang.
"The presiding judge is speaking. No interruptions," the petite girl puffed out her cheeks, feigning seriousness.
"Emperor Rupert, the true source of both Mechanical Emperor Wars. Only his resurrection could cause machine failures on such a vast scale. There is no doubt!"
"Heh, following normal logic, that conclusion is basically correct."
The magician toyed with his cards. After a focused look, the playing cards in his hands had become tarot cards.
"Do we have any suspects, or are we casting a wide net? Well, wandering around nowadays, you run into all sorts of interesting things anyway."
The cosmos was vast, and delightful events occurred every moment.
But recently, what had been happening had nearly all surpassed normal thresholds.
Before this, who would have imagined that a Lord Ravager would clash with the Xianzhou Alliance ahead of schedule?
All factions had forces they could not deploy.
Just as the Memokeepers had to guard against the Cremators destroying the memories they painstakingly collected, the Xianzhou Alliance and the Antimatter Legion likewise had assets they could not mobilize.
Thus, in that battle, only a small number of beings truly operated at the level of Emanators, and even fewer could determine the course of the conflict.
Yet in the end, what truly decided the outcome was the Herrscher of Sentience and an activated planet.
The world was always full of stories, and stories were always full of drama.
"Time to get moving."
…
Similar scenes played out across many parts of the cosmos.
Some wished to prevent their machines from suddenly breaking down, others prepared to find the culprit for deeper cooperation.
Some were simply driven by curiosity.
"Hah, thank goodness our Express didn't break down." Inside the carriage, March 7th patted her chest lightly as she watched reports of malfunctioning machines on the interstellar news, feeling relieved.
"Heh, after all, the Express is a kind of manifestation of Akivili. Ordinary problems usually won't appear on it," Welt said with a light laugh.
Hearing this, Himeko could not help but smile.
The Astral Express was very special. There was more than one train in the cosmos, but the one they rode truly possessed something miraculous. Just the fact that it could open tracks anywhere was proof enough.
Although this Express could still suffer ordinary malfunctions, occasionally throw tantrums and stall, or even crash into unknown worlds, the power of Trailblaze was undeniably real.
A train that carried the Nameless as they enacted the Trailblaze was precisely that unbelievable.
But…
Looking at the news playing on the screen, Himeko's brows knit slightly, and even the hand grinding coffee beans slowed.
"Intellitrons, even those that've developed life, can't resist this influence?"
As someone capable of personally tinkering with and repairing the Astral Express, this news was not friendly to Himeko.
If even Intellitrons could not deal with the unknown influence, who knew what other machines might become.
"And also, if that unknown thing can even affect cameras, doesn't that mean I won't be able to take photos anymore?!"
"You've got plenty of cameras in your room. Just switch to another one," said Stelle, who had finally enjoyed a moment of peace while quietly finishing March 7th's little cake, lifting her head and speaking indistinctly.
"That's totally different. That was when the train crew was finally flush with cash and could buy whatever we wanted. Those cameras were for collecting. Some models are already discontinued treasures!"
"Oh? March, your allowance shouldn't be enough to fund that many cameras, should it?" Himeko raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at March 7th, who was waving her arms, trying to convince Stelle that those cameras were priceless treasures.
Hearing Himeko's question, March 7th froze, arms suspended midair like a statue.
Only when Himeko's probing gaze grew more intense did March 7th give up, turning around with her head lowered and muttering,
"I won them all through hard-earned lottery draws. There was an event going on, I got curious and checked it out, and then I won…"
"But then you realized afterward that it was Penacony. The owner probably recognized you," Himeko said, rubbing her forehead helplessly.
"I only thought of that when the stuff was delivered…" March 7th clasped her hands behind her back, her right foot awkwardly tracing circles on the floor.
"No wonder you had so many packages those days. Fine, since they're already here, just keep them properly. It's their goodwill, after all. Just be more careful next time."
"Mm-hmm!!" Himeko looked at March 7th indulgently as she admonished her.
Just then,
"Ahhh! We're gonna crash, Pom!!"