When that Planet, shrouded in Eternal Night, turned into a brilliant yet deathly silent Nebula in the silent Universe under the indifferent gaze of its former 'Deliverer' and 'the midnight shade'...
This extreme, unimaginable act of self-destruction was like an Impact that could not be blocked by any physical or philosophical barrier, sweeping through the observation rooms of all dimensions.
There, observers from different Worlds, different civilizations, and different beliefs fell into a long silence mixed with horror, anger, disdain, and... a certain morbid, deep fascination because of this unimaginable scene.
---
Super God Universe
In the Giant Gorge Ship Command Center, the air seemed to freeze into ice. The previous discussion about Emperor's cold logic now seemed pale and weak in the face of Konrad Curze's even colder actions.
"Crazy... absolutely insane!" Leina, the goddess from Planet Lieyang, was the first to break the dead silence.
Belief-shattering anger burned in her golden pupils; the pride and sense of responsibility inherited from the deities of an ancient civilization were thoroughly stung by this scene.
"Is this the end of what they call 'more practical'? A god... no, a ruler called a 'demigod,' because he couldn't stand the corruption of his own home, wiped it from the Universe with his own hands?!"
She stood up abruptly, her magnificent armor glowing slightly due to its Master's emotions.
"My Lieyang Civilization has been passed down for ten thousand years. Even in the face of the darkest and most corrupt periods, we firmly believe that the spark of civilization is worth guarding, innovating, and healing! But him, what did he do? He threw the patient along with the bed into the incinerator!"
"This isn't ruling at all; this is the most extreme self-destruction and venting of anger! This act of giving up on the whole thing because of a single problem, this complete despair, is the greatest desecration of the word 'civilization'!"
Angel Yan's white wings folded uneasily, and a thick dark cloud hung over her beautiful face; her understanding of 'Order' was suffering an unprecedented shock.
"I have fought in the darkness for seven thousand years and witnessed countless crimes and sacrifices. But... to absoluteize the power of 'Judgment' until finally judging the source of one's own bloodline... this is no longer Justice, but a bloody and twisted sacrifice to 'Order' itself after being completely swallowed by pain."
She remembered Holy Keisha's teachings. "The Queen's Knowledge Treasure Vault tells us that Justice needs to hold the bottom line. Even for the sake of Justice itself, one cannot cross that line that turns protection into extermination."
"Konrad Curze... he is walking on a one-way street with no turning back, finally proving through the destruction of his home Planet that—what he has always feared and hated is precisely himself. He became his own greatest enemy and killed him with his own hands."
"By what right?! By what right does he do this!"
Ge Xiaolun slammed his fist onto the table, making a dull thud.
This 'Power of the Galaxy' from Earth felt an anger that stemmed from the most simple and basic human nature.
"Was there not a single good person left on Nostramo? What about those who might still be resisting the gangs? What about the ordinary people too scared to speak by his reign of terror? What about the children who were just born?! Just because of some 'collective guilt,' they all have to be buried with it?!"
His voice trembled with anger: "What's the difference between this and the Taotie massacring a city?! No, this is even more disgusting! The Taotie are beasts who do it openly for survival! This Konrad Curze still acts under the banner of 'Justice' and 'Judgment'!"
"He's just a... a complete coward! He didn't dare face the mess of his failed governance. He couldn't solve the problem, so he flipped the entire table! And he says he's in pain? What about the hundreds of millions, the billions of people he inexplicably blew up? Who do they go to for Justice?!"
Liu Chuang scratched his scalp irritably, cursing under his breath. This former street thug examined everything with his most direct logic of the underworld.
"Fuck! He's a real ruthless piece of work... and a coward! To strike so lethally at his own home, I, Old Liu, have really seen it all today. Sure, that place was rotten to the core, but where's the logic in a company commander wiping out the whole company just because a few rogue soldiers showed up in a squad?"
"Isn't this insane?!"
He looked at Sevatar's calm face on the screen, even more puzzled.
"And that Sevatar is also a tough character, watching his own home blow up without saying a damn word... What kind of people are they? Does that place specialize in producing these perverts? They don't have a single concept of roots!"
Du Qiangwei bit her lip tightly. As a strictly trained soldier, she tried to deconstruct this act from a tactical perspective, but her brow remained furrowed.
"From a purely tactical deterrence perspective, the act of destroying the home Planet itself sends a signal so strong it cannot be ignored. This might be extremely effective in the short term for deterring other Worlds with ulterior motives. But... the side effects are too great." Her analysis was cold and professional.
"This is equivalent to telling all vassal civilizations that the Empire's tolerance is zero, and any mistake or corruption could lead to total destruction. This will not bring loyalty; it will only greatly stimulate the will to resist under despair."
"Konrad Curze's approach used the destruction of a World to temporarily suppress the problem, but it buried countless dangerous time bombs for the long-term stability of the entire Empire. Strategically, it is short-sighted and fatal."
Qi Lin turned pale and subconsciously hugged her arms, as if feeling a chill from her soul.
"He... did he stop feeling pain in the end? Watching his home, the place in his Remembrance, just... gone."
As a Police officer, she had seen too many people twisted by pain, but Konrad Curze's state transcended her understanding.
"Hasn't he always been in pain? Why, when making the most painful decision, was he instead so... calm? This is scarier than hysteria. It's a kind of... absolute void after emotions have been completely burned away."
"Heh, this is the ultimate form of corruption!" Angel Leng crossed her arms and let out an extremely cold snort, full of absolute negation of such behavior.
"Thinking he upholds Justice, yet every step slides toward the abyss! Finally negating his own roots in the most extreme way—how pathetic and hateful! Holy Keisha's Order of Justice would never allow such conduct! If I were there, I would surely judge this lost so-called 'Inquisitor' with my Flame Sword!"
On the other side of the Universe, within the Demon Wings, Morgana first let out an exaggerated, deeply sarcastic laugh.
"Hahaha! When that bitch Keisha sees this, the expression on her face must be wonderful! The 'Order of Justice' and 'preciousness of life' she prattles on about all day are like a soap bubble that pops at a touch in front of this little maniac Konrad Curze!"
She stood up, her black wings flapping slightly, her tone full of appreciation for 'rebellion' and 'subversion.' "Look at him! What pure corruption!"
"What an extreme free choice! He doesn't care about any bullshit Imperial glory, he doesn't care about any Primarch responsibility, he doesn't even care about his own rotten life! When he found that even his fucking home was rotten to the core, and even his last ridiculous excuse for 'Justice' couldn't stand, he chose the coolest way—he scattered its ashes with his own hands!"
Morgana walked to the screen, as if admiring a shocking piece of art.
"This is what true 'corruption' is called, you understand? It's not like my incompetent underlings chasing low-level desires, but a complete betrayal and destruction of all established rules, including one's own past beliefs!"
"In the end, he judged himself along with the entire World that birthed him! This is simply... too fucking fascinating! If this kid came to my Demon Legion, I'd directly give him a Governor position!"
However, in Angel City, Heavenly Base King Hexi's focus did not remain on Konrad Curze's final atrocity.
Her wise eyes stared at the glorious yet blurry figure of Emperor on the screen, her slender fingers unconsciously tracing complex gene chain models in the air. Her tone carried a deep, almost hair-raising curiosity.
"Unbelievable..." she murmured softly, as if to herself, yet also as if speaking to Keisha beside her.
"This existence known as the 'Emperor'—just how... or rather, out of what kind of logic, could he create beings like the 'Primarchs'?"
She turned to look at Keisha, her gaze sharp enough to pierce through all fog.
"Queen, look. He gave these 'sons' god-like power, near-immortal life, and the wisdom to lead millions. From a genetic engineering perspective, this is undoubtedly a peak achievement; its technical level might far exceed our Angel Super Soldier system."
But then, her tone suddenly became heavy and confused.
"But why... why, while bestowing this ultimate power, did he not eliminate those fatal, even innate defects?"
"Konrad Curze's inescapable prophetic visions—aren't these all the most unstable 'error codes' in the genetic blueprint?"
Hexi's speaking speed increased, showing the great waves in her heart.
"Especially, given the foresight and grand strategy he has shown, it's impossible he didn't foresee that these defects would be infinitely magnified in specific environments, leading to what catastrophic consequences. Konrad Curze's tragedy is almost a straight line that can be seen from start to finish!"
She finally threw out the most core question, one carrying an ethical interrogation.
"Even setting aside the identity of the so-called 'God-Emperor' and speaking merely as a 'father,' knowing that his children were born with such fatal mental ailments and having foreseen that they might walk toward destruction or betrayal in pain..."
"Why did he choose silence? Why did he choose to be a bystander? Or even... as if he were using this defect, for example, using Konrad Curze's pain as a 'safety valve'?"
"This isn't creation; this is more like a... cold-to-the-extreme, massive living social experiment!"
"What he needs, in the end, is it a group of 'sons' who can carry his ideals, or a batch of super weapons with different functions that are good enough as long as they can exert their maximum utility before being scrapped?"
Holy Keisha listened quietly to Hexi's analysis, her beautiful face shrouded in a layer of solemn frost.
As Hexi finished speaking, she slowly opened her eyes, which seemed capable of piercing through the truths of the Universe. A clear yet cold voice echoed through the observation station, carrying unquestionable authority and deep regret.
"Hexi, your analysis touches the heart of the matter." Keisha's voice was steady but contained immense power.
"The logic of this 'Emperor' is fundamentally at odds with the 'Order' and 'Justice' that Angels believe in."
She slightly raised her chin, her gaze like fire, as if piercing through countless light-years to look directly at that golden figure in the Warhammer Universe.
"True Order stems from guidance, from enlightenment, from the trust and cultivation of life's potential."
"But he seems to be practicing an extreme utilitarian 'instrumental rationality'—as long as the primary function of this 'tool' is powerful enough, then some 'side effects' (the Primarch's pain, the distortion of humanity) can be tolerated, even calculated as 'necessary losses'."
A flicker of genuine disdain flashed in Keisha's eyes.
"He cast beings like Konrad Curze into the darkness, expecting them to bring light, yet gave them only weapons of darkness, and when they were consumed by that darkness, he dismissed it with a flippant remark about 'bearing the burden'."
"This is not fatherly love; it cannot even be called the responsibility a qualified creator should have. This is more like... an extremely arrogant engineer, tinkering with dangerous, complex goods he thinks he can fully control."
"He may be powerful enough to mold stars and create demigods," Keisha concluded, cold and decisive.
"But in how to guide a soul toward true perfection and nobility, he shows a failure that is almost... barbaric, lacking the most basic empathy."
"His grand cause of 'Human Ascension' was built from the start on the foundation of twisting individual souls. Such a path, no matter how brilliant the temporary results, must inevitably end in the mess and devastation we see today."
"A true king leads his people upward. But his approach is more like spawning monsters and then coldly watching them tear each other apart in self-destruction. This logic is something the Angel Civilization will never accept."
---
DC Universe - The Watchtower
In the meeting room of The Watchtower, the atmosphere was more oppressive than during any previous crisis. Superman's figure, which always symbolized hope, now appeared incredibly heavy.
"I... I can't describe how I feel right now."
Clark Kent's voice was low, filled with deep sorrow. "The destruction of Kryptonian is my eternal pain, a tragedy I've spent my life trying to prevent from happening to any other civilization. And now, I see... I see a 'Son of Kryptonian' destroying his own Kryptonian with his own hands."
His gaze swept across every hero present: "We talk about justice, we talk about responsibility."
"But the prerequisite for all of this is respect for life itself. Konrad Curze's actions have transcended the categories of good and evil; it's a... negation of 'existence' itself."
"He didn't just kill the people of Nostramo; he killed that Planet's entire past, present, and future. He killed every memory, every emotion, every unborn possibility."
"This isn't 'judgment,' Bruce." He looked at Batman in the shadows. "This is cosmic-level suicide, and he kidnapped the entire Planet to be buried with him."
Bruce Wayne sat with his hands crossed in front of him, his eyes beneath the mask as deep as an ancient well. He didn't argue, but instead offered a cold analysis in his signature raspy voice.
"This is the logical conclusion. His logic of 'fear brings Order' has reached its end. When he found that his fear could no longer maintain Order, and even the source of that fear—the recruits for his Legion—had been corrupted, his logical chain broke."
"To maintain the 'integrity' of this logic, he could only choose to erase the entire experimental field, Nostramo, from the variables."
Batman stood up and walked to the holographic star map, pointing at the Nebula that had just formed.
"This is an ultimate, pathological desire for control. He couldn't control Nostramo's fall, couldn't control his Legion's corruption, couldn't control his own damn prophecies."
"So, he chose the most extreme way to display his final 'control'—the power of destruction. This proves that from beginning to end, he was only a pathetic tyrant enslaved by power and fear, not the judge he thought he was."
"In the name of Hera, what cowardice!"
Diana Prince stood up, the fire of an Amazon warrior burning in her eyes.
"He's afraid to face his own failure! Afraid to admit that everything he did was wrong!"
"So he chose to destroy the evidence, to destroy the home that could remind him of his failure at every moment! This is fundamentally no different from a mortal criminal who burns down the house and buries the bodies after committing a crime; it's just on a grander scale, and even more... despicable!"
"Hey, take it easy, Princess." A flippant voice spoke up. Hal Jordan, the Green Lantern, spun the ring on his finger.
"I've flown to countless Worlds and seen all kinds of crazies. But blowing up your own Planet? That's a first. But you're all missing one point..."
His expression turned serious.
"His Legion. Those Night Lords. They just watched? What was their reaction? Silence? Acceptance? That's what really makes my skin crawl."
"An interstellar Legion whose home Planet was blown up by their own Primarch, and they didn't react at all. What does that mean? It means the 'roots' of this army have been completely uprooted."
"They no longer belong anywhere; they belong only to terror itself."
"Konrad Curze's action wasn't an end to something; it was the creation of a group of... absolute cosmic thugs with no attachments left. A group of ghosts that exist only to inflict pain."
"He's right."
Martian Manhunter J'onn J'onzz's resonant telepathic voice sounded in everyone's mind, filled with deep sadness.
"I lost my home Planet, lost my people. That pain shaped me. But Konrad Curze, he actively manufactured this pain and inflicted it upon every one of his sons."
"He isn't sharing sorrow; he is forcibly instilling nothingness. He has turned himself into an eternal, bleeding wound in the hearts of all Night Lords, a trauma that can never heal. This is the most vicious spiritual curse one can place on an army."
A muffled cough came from the corner, followed by the crisp "click" of a lighter. John Constantine took a deep drag of his cigarette and then slowly exhaled. In the swirling smoke, his face, always carrying a hint of mockery and exhaustion, became particularly clear.
"Alright, give it a rest, you bunch of costumed philosophers." His voice was raspy, with a thick British accent. "Cowardice? Control issues? Spiritual curses? You're making this sound too... clean."
He stood up, walked to the holographic projection, and poked the cooling Nebula with a nicotine-stained finger.
"Let a professional translate this for you. This isn't the end of some philosophical debate; this is a... botched, large-scale exorcism."
Everyone's eyes were fixed on him.
"That poor bastard Konrad Curze, he was born a cursed medium, right?"
"His brain is like a broken radio, forever tuned to the worst channels from the future."
"And Nostramo, his old home, was the damn signal tower. It was his 'root,' his 'anchor,' and the source of all his pain."
Constantine took another drag and smiled mockingly.
"He tried everything, every rotten trick you can think of. Intimidation, slaughter, skinning people alive... he thought if he scared the townspeople enough, he could make that tower shut up."
"And the result? The signal didn't stop. Instead, because he turned into a bastard himself, the static in the signal got even louder. Eventually, he realized the whole damn town, including himself, had become part of the curse."
"So what does he do?" Constantine spread his hands, the hem of his trench coat swaying. "What does a magician do when he finds himself cursed by a grimoire? He burns it!"
"Konrad Curze blowing up Nostramo follows the same logic. He wasn't destroying evidence or showing off control."
"He was trying to cut his connection to that 'source of the curse' in the stupidest, most direct way he could think of."
"He was performing a bloody, reckless 'self-exorcism' on himself. He wanted to blow the demon that's been howling in his head his whole life, along with its nest, sky-high."
He stubbed out his cigarette, tossing it into an energy suppression field with a soft "sizzle."
"Of course, he botched it. Because the real demon was never on that Planet; it was in that head of his, which his old man personally designed as a 'defective product'."
"All he blew up was the monument that occasionally reminded him that 'he once wanted to be a good man'."
"So, stop trying to elevate it into some 'cosmic tragedy'."
Constantine concluded, his tone full of the weariness and disdain of someone who had seen it all. "It's just a pathetic wretch driven mad by his own talent, throwing the most expensive tantrum in history. That's all. Now, who's got a light?"