Chapter 158: The End of Everything and the Beginning of Everything
Ai Haibara, resurrected once again, looked more tranquil than ever.
" 'God is with me'... a truly inspiring sentiment. It would be even better if you weren't a God of Calamity yourself, for your divinity clearly finds more interest in murdering me than in committing suicide..."
Regardless, the God-slaying journey of Conan and Ai Haibara began.
The war to slay a god—where humanity wagered all its chips only to lose them—had settled. Yet, due to a God's madness, the embers showed signs of reigniting. The final outcome remained unknown, and it was destined to be a grueling, eons-long odyssey.
Ai Haibara researched tirelessly, experimenting and seeking every sliver of possibility. Simultaneously, she died repeatedly. Eventually, unable to bear the fatigue of performing "sit-ups" between the underworld and the living plane at such high frequency, she provided the experimental logic first. She told Conan to design the verification tests and collect the data himself, while she continued to stay "quietly dead," waiting to be resurrected only when he had results.
The unit of time—whether for Conan or Ai—had lost all meaning. Conan was ageless and immortal, while Ai would rise to move for a brief moment every ten days or month, only to return to death.
When Conan maintained his sanity, his mind was unquestionably sharp. Paired with Ai's peerless intellect, the two titans exhausted every concept across the vast ocean of time. Finally, they found the answer.
Ai said flatly: "Conan, after this long research and your own repeated experiments, we are certain of one thing. On this eternal stage, you are special. No 'human' can truly kill you. Even Gin, carrying the hope of all mankind, could not engrave a finale of 'Death' for you. Because from the start, you have been the God of Detectives—standing at the center of the stage, illuminated and bound by layer upon layer of spotlights..."
The answer was despairing, but the Conan and Ai standing here had long since grown accustomed to despair.
Conan picked up the thread, whispering: "Since no 'human' on this stage can write a God's ending, we must look for a possibility outside of humanity. For example... another God."
"Exactly," Ai continued. "No matter how incredible, this is the only possibility before us. We need to create another God—one with an existence of equal and opposite significance to the God of Detectives. One who does not stand under the spotlights but lurks in the shadows of the stage. One named Sin, whose sole reason for existing is to kill the Detective. As for the technology and the ritual to create this God of Evil, those are manageable, but..."
She paused, seemingly unsure how to continue. Conan finished her sentence:
"It can only be me. The God of Evil must be born from the sin and darkness of the God of Detectives. Because only Conan can kill Conan. Only Shinichi Kudo can kill Shinichi Kudo. And this is the only way for me and humanity to be set free."
Ai remained silent. A long time passed. Before the Calamity Halo could strike again, she lowered her eyes and said softly:
"It is a hard road to walk. But it is the only hope. Go, Conan. Do what must be done. In the tradition of humanity, I wish you... no return!"
With those words, Ai died once more in a murder orchestrated by the Calamity Halo. Conan gazed at her corpse, said nothing, and turned to leave.
Conan already knew in his heart how to create that God of Evil.
Trekking across the desolate, empty wilderness, he closed his eyes and fell into "Memory." He whispered:
"Before stepping toward the final liberation, allow me to disturb you all one last time..."
Along with the memory, darkness spread. Billions of souls returned from the void. The Saint of Slaughter—the skeletal figure in a black trench coat with silver hair—walked through the darkness, carrying the roars of all living beings as he approached Conan step by step.
Conan did not resurrect Gin. He only resurrected the most stunning and powerful shot Gin had ever fired, along with the collective will of humanity contained within that bullet.
How does one determine "Sin"? To Conan, the answer was simple.
Only judgment can convict!
Therefore, Conan resurrected that human will to create a Judgment of absolute magnitude. In this judgment, "humans" could not slay a god, but they could make one. It was a ritual of unprecedented scale; a God of Evil would be born from the final judgment of all mankind.
"Recite my sins! State my evil karma! Then, judge me! Let my sins be made manifest and eternal, and use them to tear down the unshakeable throne of God!" Conan cried out.
The countless souls approached him, following the steps of the Saint of Slaughter.
The first soul touched Conan's body, stating the sins belonging to him. This was just an ordinary man who worked a regular job and cared for his family. Then, at some point, his life began to sour. His boss became more ferocious, his scoldings more frequent. His wife grew critical and nagging, his child mischievous and unruly.
The workplace and the home became sources of endless worry, accumulating without stop. One day, while being scolded privately in his boss's office, he had a moment of "terminal lucidity."
I've been called into this office and scolded at least 160,000 times, haven't I? Doesn't the boss get tired?
He looked closer and realized his boss's face was haggard with exhaustion; his eyes were filled with the madness accumulated over eons. The scolding was merely a vent. Returning home, he saw his wife and child were the same—weary and maddened. Looking in the mirror, his own face reflected the same state.
He understood instantly. The next day, he took a knife and killed his boss. He planned to kill his family next, but before he could leave the office, he heard a voice outside the door: "Are-re? It seems a murder has happened here!"
The case was solved. As he cut his own throat, his heart held only regret. He was leaving, but his family had to stay and suffer in this despairing world.
The memory carried by this soul was the indictment of sin. The regret he could not let go of even in death was the judgment of evil karma.
Conan opened his arms, accepting every accusation and judgment without reservation. The soul shrieked, transforming into an invisible noose that tightened around Conan's neck, suffocating him.
One soul's judgment ended, but behind it, billions more roared forward!
One indictment after another, a never-ending cycle of judgment. This ritual would not end until the God of Evil was born. If it failed, Conan would maintain this ritual forever.
Conan's "human" mind gradually collapsed under the weight. Even if it returned due to some inexplicable factor, it would soon shatter again. The ritual was not smooth; in his madness, Conan would wander in thought or instinctively want to escape.
But every time he was lucid, he saw an observer outside the ritual, watching him silently.
Ai Haibara, resurrected again and again by his memories and thoughts, witnessed his progress.
"Should I say you're a man of your word, or just stubborn? Whatever. Since I witnessed the end of humanity's God-slaying war, let me witness this war of God against God to the very end!"
Her presence gave Conan the motivation to persevere.
Day after day, year after year, until a time more distant than the chaotic eons passed. Within the endless shifts of the ritual, change finally began to brew. The sins formed from humanity's memories and the karma from their emotions washed over Conan's mind. Conan felt he was forgetting something, but he couldn't name what.
He instinctively turned his head to look. Nearby lay the corpse of a girl. He couldn't remember who she was, but he saw characters carved into the surrounding stone walls with small pebbles.
"Hold on..." "You must hold on!" "Good news: in the ritual, you have begun to erode and forget. This proves that the eternal, unchangeable parts of you are shifting. This is a great start!" "For humanity, and for yourself, you must persist. I will watch until the end..." "I'm sorry. I overestimated myself. A God's journey is too long. Even if I only return when you are mad, the accumulation is too much. I can't keep up. I'm so tired..." "Don't think of me. Let me rest..." "I want to die..." "Why haven't you forgotten me yet? Tired. Want to die..." "[Censored symbols], I told you to let me die!!!!!" "Want to die want to die want to die..." ... ... "This is my final message during a moment of clarity after my mind has been broken for ages. I am certain: you are the undeniable God of Evil. No more words are needed. You will succeed. Now... I sleep."
Conan could no longer remember who that girl was. But he would always instinctively look over at her. He didn't know why.
It didn't matter. Gradually, he felt he was no longer one person, but a collective of him, her, and it. He felt like an old man, a child, a man, a woman—possessing countless, vastly different life experiences. He couldn't distinguish which was the "real" him, but it didn't seem to matter.
Because all these people were speaking in unison. He listened closely, hearing them roar with every ounce of their strength:
[KILL CONAN!!!]
Listening to the shout of all beings and feeling the power hidden within, a doubt arose in him.
Who is Conan?
In his confusion, he pondered. Gradually, he knew everything. He knew he was the existence condensed from sin and evil karma! He knew why he existed!
A similar roar began to echo from his own mouth.
"KILL!!!"
In that instant, his will and his shout transformed into radiance, evolving into a blood-red rainbow that pierced the heavens and covered all things. As the rainbow ascended, so did he. He was rising, sublimating. The God known as Sin was born in this moment.
He became It (or rather, the Divine "He").
The moment the God turned back to look, he saw a child collapsed on the ground. He did not possess a perfect human-like sapience; he was a vast, majestic collective spiritual will. But he knew that child was a detective, his original self, and the enemy he had to kill!
This was engraved into the root of his existence.
But killing this detective was no easy task. To do so, he needed to meticulously plan a crime. And the first thing he needed to do was set the stage.
In the next heartbeat, blood-light shone brilliantly, illuminating the mortal realm. The scenery rippled like water. The human cityscape returned. People began to walk hurriedly through the streets.
The place where the thin child lay transformed into a bed. Soon after, a much younger Yukiko Kudo entered the room, shouting:
"Shinichi, wake up!"
At that moment, the child woke. His eyes were clear but confused, as if he had forgotten everything. Looking at Yukiko, he asked instinctively:
"Who are you? Who am I? Where is this...?"
"Are you still sleep-dazed? Or are you trying to gather information like a mystery story again? Fine, fine. You are Shinichi Kudo, and you're starting elementary school today. I am your mother, Yukiko Kudo. There's your basic info. Now come down and eat, or you'll miss the chance to hear Yusaku tell you a case story."
Shinichi hesitated, but eventually went downstairs. Looking at Yusaku Kudo sitting at the table, he seemed to remember something. Tears suddenly streamed down his face, throwing Yusaku into a panic.
"Dad, Mom... I'm okay. It's just... I think I had a very, very long... nightmare!"
Mo Yu watched it all. This was still the replay of the first-loop dream bubble, but it had now reconnected with the world of the Second Loop!
In the fast-forwarded time, the Conan who had erased all his memories in the ritual and reclaimed the name Shinichi Kudo appeared to have truly returned to his original body. He began to "grow up" once more. As before, he forged his initial bonds, meeting Ran, Professor Agasa, and Kogoro Mouri.
Then, Mo Yu looked up at the blood-red killing intent piercing the heavens, continuing to infect all things, accumulating power for the sole purpose of killing Conan.
Day after day, year after year.
Gradually, within that tide of blood-red killing intent, a "God" was nurtured. A pitch-black silhouette, manifesting unmeasurable sin. That was the true body the God of Sin required to descend to the mortal plane—the ultimate killing machine forged to destroy Conan.
But this ultimate weapon never got the chance to be used.
Because at that very moment, the God from another world had descended!
End of Chapter
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