In the White Eagle Free Federation, a colossal architectural marvel—a five-hundred-meter-tall structure shaped like an inverted pyramid—began to crumble slowly from top to bottom.
An inexhaustible supply of imperishable food vanished rapidly from a vast warehouse, which itself dissolved like a bubble.
Simultaneously, schools, hospitals, orphanages, cars, cruise ships, and airplanes disappeared one after another.
The Martyr never refused the desires of ordinary people, acting as an omnipotent wishing machine that granted every request instantly.
But now, all the illusions he had conjured were collapsing. Imagine someone happily enjoying life in their luxurious private jet when the plane suddenly vanished mid-flight, or their beloved sports car or cruise ship disappearing beneath them.
Naturally, unimaginable disaster struck the one-eighth of the territory ruled by the Martyr.
But that wasn't the end. Millions of people awoke from their blissful dreams in specialized "recovery hospitals"—only to find even those hospitals had completely vanished. They lay scattered on the ground, opening their eyes in dazed confusion.
They left the blissful "world" where all their loved ones and friends were alive and well, returning to this "hell."
"This... this is unbearable..." Sometime earlier, the Martyr had already begun weeping uncontrollably. As the master of his ability, he was fully aware of the consequences of his actions. Yet, without hesitation, he relinquished all the powers he had maintained within the White Eagle for countless years, drawing all that power back into himself.
The Martyr's selfless assistance to ordinary people, his unwavering commitment to a promise made so long ago even after obtaining such immense power, proved his fundamental goodness. Yet, this very goodness seemed utterly fragile in the face of his own "selfish desire."
The Martyr was genuinely heartbroken, tormented by the innocent lives he had inadvertently harmed. Yet, when the moment came to relinquish his abilities, he didn't hesitate for even an instant.
"No matter what, I must see that 'god'... no matter what!"
Thousands of colossal dragons materialized around the Martyr, some crouching on the ground, others hovering in the air. At that moment, the entire area surrounding the Penacony Grand Theater was swarming with these mythical creatures that should have existed only in fantasy.
Black dragons, red dragons, blue dragons, green dragons, white dragons.
Brass dragons, bronze dragons, copper dragons, gold dragons, silver dragons.
Whether malevolent chromatic dragons or benevolent metallic dragons, all were fixated on the colossal figure looming before them: the Harmony Choir's divine Sunday.
Even from their distant vantage point in the Golden Hour Plaza, Robin and Lü Heng could clearly witness the scene.
Lü Heng stared wide-eyed, struggling to articulate his shock. The boss-level monsters he had always struggled to defeat were now appearing in droves like mere cannon fodder, their massive wings almost eclipsing half the sky.
"Wait, are you sure... your brother's really okay?"
Robin recalled her past experiences playing the Star Rail Sunday weekly boss. "If he can use that move... maybe just one hit?" she said uncertainly.
Lü Heng stared blankly, his expression as if he'd seen a ghost. He turned to Robin, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you serious? You're not kidding, are you?!"
At the Penacony Grand Theater, Sunday surveyed the thousands of "little insects" surrounding him, his expression unchanged. The colossal golden figure slowly raised his hand, and the four Golden Notes that had been circling him ascended into the air.
"If you so desire to behold a Aeon, I shall grant you an audience with THEM."
These were the first words Sunday had spoken since the battle began.
"All the work of creation has been completed. The inevitable day has arrived..."
"The Embryo of Philosophy will reshape for us all of reality!"
As these words echoed through the Illusionary Realm, everyone present felt a primal shudder in their souls, as if some immense entity had cast its gaze upon them.
In a sense, both Sunday and the Martyr were selflessly devoted, yet driven by personal desires.
Sunday was willing to become the cornerstone of a new world, bearing all the consequences alone while others lived blissfully unaware in their beautiful dreams. He was undeniably "selfless," yet within him burned a single, cherished desire: Robin.
The Martyr was much the same. For countless years, he had tirelessly maintained his ability for the sake of the masses, driven by a single, private desire: to witness the divine.
Perhaps it didn't matter whether he met the god who had granted him his power, or some other deity entirely. The crucial thing was the act of "seeing again," for even the Martyr himself didn't know what that god truly looked like.
Both Sunday and the Martyr were selfless yet driven by personal desires, but their approaches differed vastly. Sunday acted with rationality, purpose, and meticulous planning, while the Martyr wandered aimlessly, driven by a frenzied, irrational obsession.
Hearing Sunday's words, the Martyr wept uncontrollably, yet a wide smile stretched across his face. He was crying and laughing at the same time.
A thousand colossal dragons fixed their gazes on the figure before them, but made no move to attack. Sunday spoke slowly and deliberately:
"Im Anfang war das Wort"
"On the first day, I swear on Truth..."
"On the second day, I swear on the Calendar..."
"On the third day, I swear on Words..."
"On the fourth day, I swear on Values..."
As these words reverberated throughout Penacony, the Embryo Of Philosophy slowly raised its arms and gazed upward.
An overwhelming sense of dread washed over everyone. Those at Golden Hour Plaza, perhaps due to their heightened senses, reacted most strongly. Yu Lin, like a startled kitten encountering a predator, bristled with fear. Her brow furrowed as she stared intently at the distant battlefield, her tail inexplicably curled around her right leg.
Robin could even see a faint tremor running through her.
Lü Heng and Zhong Wanhong listened to the voice that seemed to resonate in their ears, now largely convinced of Robin's earlier claim of a "single strike."