Listening to Herta's introduction, Sylvia knew exactly what she had been summoned to test this time.
The Swarm Disaster.
It was a catastrophe that had swept through the vast majority of the cosmos ages ago. Even after its Aeon had been slain, the remnant Swarm continued to infest the universe.
Every so often, news would break of yet another world being devoured by the relentless tide.
It reminded Sylvia of that colossal insect she had witnessed not long ago—the one that had literally hollowed out an entire planet.
Even with the Aeon of Propagation gone and its Path stripped of its primary authority, the surviving Swarm retained a terrifying biological drive to multiply.
As for what Herta wanted to investigate? Naturally, it was the birth of an Aeon, the war among the gods, and the eventual fall of Propagation—all the monumental events surrounding that ascension.
Since the Nameless of Akivili had also been bystanders to the Propagation's history, Sylvia figured Stelle would likely be roped into testing this sooner or later as well.
Then again, the current Nanook of Destruction was starting to feel like a universal disaster in his own right.
Just as the Swarm Disaster had its roots in a prophecy from [Terminus] the Finality, and the Borderstar Trade War began with a simple frontier trade war, history suggested that grand catastrophes usually blossomed from the most unexpected seeds.
Take the Antimatter Legion, for instance, or the Stellaron bursts currently choking the galaxy's shipping lanes. They felt like the grim heralds of a new era of chaos.
The Astral Express was fighting an uphill battle; how could a single train hope to stop a disaster capable of severing the stars themselves?
To put it bluntly: if the Express broke down again, who knew how many centuries would pass before another ship was repaired and ready to set sail?
Sylvia pondered these things, wondering how the future of this world would truly unfold.
Herta's narration finally drew to a close: "...Anyway, even though the Permanence didn't have much to do with that era, given the potential link between Permanence and Propagation, your test might just provide some unexpected 'surprises.'"
Herta spoke fluidly, her tone brimming with anticipation. It was obvious she was hunting for anomalies.
After all, if she just wanted a standard run-through, she had Stelle—the perfect proxy for Trailblaze—to handle it.
"I think I get the gist. It's a bit ironic, though," Sylvia remarked, stepping toward the platform. "I just ran into the Swarm in the flesh, and now I'm about to experience the historical version."
Training in the Simulated Universe helped sharpen combat skills, and the sensory feedback was leagues more realistic than any immersive video game. Sylvia treated it like high-stakes gaming.
"You ran into the Swarm? Oh, right, the Astral Express. That's rough," Herta offered a flat, expressionless bit of sympathy, purely for the sake of politeness.
"Alright, let's get moving. Let's see if we can find something interesting."
At Sylvia's urging, Herta initiated the simulation. In an instant, Sylvia's consciousness was pulled into the massive apparatus.
The layout was still the familiar Space Station. Clearly, Herta wasn't about to waste computing power on designing new scenery for the lobby.
Before Sylvia's eyes, the prologue of the Swarm Disaster began to play out, starting with that prophecy of Finality. Most of it was delivered via text descriptions.
According to Herta, this was another "optimization" to save processing power for the important stuff.
Like... the birth of the Aeon of Propagation.
Under the rapid-fire text, the prelude to the disaster blurred past. The mass slaughter of the insects was reduced to a few cold, clinical lines of prose.
This continued until the final image appeared: the last bug left alive before the tide turned.
The pitch-black background finally flickered with blurred visuals, though the insect itself was rendered in startling clarity.
It looked much like the ones Sylvia remembered fighting in the game, only more grotesque, more visceral.
Sylvia wondered what kind of perspective the simulation was feeding her. As soon as she locked eyes with the creature, the camera shifted—slamming into a first-person view.
Suddenly, she was standing in a desolate wilderness. Armies and bounty hunters were closing in from all sides.
Along with the vision came a crushing, primal urge to survive, laced with white-hot fury and profound sorrow.
It was hard to imagine a creature as simple-minded as a bug possessing such a complex emotional spectrum.
Perhaps, at this very moment, the creature had already begun its metamorphosis into godhood.
Suddenly, Herta's startled cry rang in her ears: "Why did you shift to first-person?! Wait! You're... you're becoming the Aeon!!"
"..."
Hearing Herta's scream of pure, scientific ecstasy, Sylvia knew the genius had found exactly the "accident" she was looking for. But Sylvia didn't have the breath to respond.
The transition from a hunted insect to a cosmic divinity had begun. It was terrifyingly clear and intoxicatingly vivid.
Sylvia felt less like she was experiencing Propagation and more like she was drifting toward IX the Nihility.
Under the relentless wash of the Path's infinite power, her own sense of self began to dissolve. If her will buckled, she would lose herself entirely, truly believing she was the bug ascending to the heavens.
Fortunately, this was only the Simulated Universe. Even with such an outlier in the calculations, the pressure was less than a ten-thousandth of a true Pathstrider's trial.
Combined with Sylvia's frequent "training" against the erosion of Nihility, she held her ground.
Under Herta's astonished gaze, Sylvia endured until the very threshold of ascension. Only then, unable to hold on a second longer, was she forcibly yanked out of the simulation by Herta.
The world snapped back to a third-person view, frozen on the final image of the Propagation's birth.
Herta's voice was full of genuine wonder. "My god... you really are something. I was wondering how long you'd last, but you actually made it to the brink of godhood."
"Phew... thank goodness you pulled me out. I thought you might be crazy enough to let me keep going," Sylvia said, rubbing her temples.
Like a cultivation novel, there was a fundamental difference between the first ninety-nine steps and the final leap into divinity.
That kind of mental onslaught, even a simulated one, wasn't something Sylvia could just shrug off.
"How do you see me, exactly? Do I look like the type to ignore the safety of my testers?" Herta's voice took on a huffy, petulant quality, clearly offended by the lack of trust.
Was she really that heartless? Even for the sake of an experiment, she wouldn't just watch Sylvia go insane.
Sylvia, still nursing a headache with her eyes squeezed shut, retorted without thinking:
"...Are any of you 'Genius Society' types actually normal? You're brave enough to let Ruan Mei clone an Emanator in the basement of the station; I honestly don't want to know what you wouldn't do."
The moment the words left her mouth, Sylvia realized her slip-up. Herta's curiosity piqued instantly.
"Hmm?? Hold on. How do you know about Ruan Mei's research project? Don't tell me that simulation just gave you some kind of cosmic clairvoyance. Is it really that broken?"
--+--
T/N: I have a Patreon! While it may seem empty as of now, webnovel will get 3 Chapters Every Day, and advanced chapters will be uploaded on Patreon.
It may not seem worth it now, but maybe in the future. Who knows!
[email protected]/AspenTL
If you guys wanna check it out.