"God, don't go..."
The voice seemed to come from the dust that filled the sky, yet it also seemed to originate from the massive vortex above.
Mo Ling knew the voice was speaking to him.
"God? Me?" Mo Ling was confused.
The piercing gazes suddenly turned humble. Countless specks of dust gathered around the Block, treating it as the center of their universe.
Seeing that Mo Ling had stopped fleeing, the voice realized he had understood its words and stopped adjusting its pace.
The Block floated silently in the center of the pure region. The vortex slowly descended, stopping just above the Block.
A terrifying pressure washed over him. Mo Ling felt as though he was seeing a millstone of time, spinning with the vortex, endlessly grinding everything to dust.
And yet, the voice that came from the vortex was filled with humility:
"God, please help us."
Between the gray sky and earth, countless specks of dust prostrated themselves before the Block, recounting their suffering.
