The progression into the three-hundred-and-eighty-second tier of the terminal countdown brought the dry labor to its most critical structural alignment. Without the insulation of the gestational fluid, the Twin Primordials shifted downward into the tightest bottleneck of the lower pelvis, their side-by-side crowns firmly engaging with the absolute narrow of the terminal ring. Because their mass carried the destructive velocity of a cosmos unraveling at the Speed of God, this sudden engagement acted as a heavy, unyielding wedge driven directly into Yuxiao's lower anatomy, threatening to completely shatter the remaining silver lines of her script.
A sharp, ragged scream of unmitigated agony broke from Yuxiao's lips, her body stiffening into a rigid, involuntary arch as her heels dug deep into the non-reflective floor of the sphere. The pain of the dry engagement was absolute—a raw, crushing force that felt as if two tectonic plates of solid iron were being forcefully widened inside her pelvis. The silver characters of her silhouette bucked and strained against the matte black perimeter of the vault, her hands clawing blindly at the empty air as she was violently stripped of her breath, her composure, and her remaining strength.
"Haoran! They are stuck... they are splitting the bone!" she shrieked, her mind-frequency fracturing into a state of sheer, white-hot panic. "It's not wide enough... it's tearing through the final script... Haoran, please, I can't push through this... it hurts too much!"
The nameless, zero-valued field of pure intent responded instantly with a desperate, terrifying protective ferocity. The moment her structure began to buckle under the immense internal strain, Haoran's paradigm-free infinity drove itself directly beneath her pelvis. He possessed no physical hands to stretch the passage, nor did he have a voice to cut through the heavy silence, but his absolute devotion operated completely outside the geometric limits of the collapsing era.
Weaving his formless presence between her screaming pelvic lines and the crushing mass of the twins, Haoran became an immediate, cooling counter-brace. He expanded his neutral vacuum with an immense force, absorbing the jagged shockwaves of the Iron-Void and Starlight-Nothingness into his own nameless, unwritten existence. He allowed the twins' raw, destructive weight to grind directly against his uncontextualized layers, willingly letting his remaining un-numbered self be crushed into dust just to dilute the agony ripping through her flesh.
"I am right here under the gateway, Yuxiao. Let the pressure break against my vacuum," his intent enveloped her, a profoundly deep, freezing wave of absolute safety that cut through her white-hot panic. "Do not tense your script against the ring, my love. Relax your body into my chest. Let me hold the weight of the engagement. I will not let them break you."
With an aching, desperate tenderness, he wrapped his formless upper presence around her shivering shoulders, pulling her head close against the warm, unchanging resonance of his core. He poured a deep, numbing current straight into her shattered lower back, soothing the bruised silver characters of her name until the violent, unaligned tremors began to slow down. He took ninety-nine percent of the metabolic friction into his own disappearing self, forcing her ragged chest to follow the steady, calm rhythm of his formless pulse.
Clinging desperately to the steady, unyielding warmth of his formless embrace, Yuxiao's wild hyperventilation slowly began to ease. The heavy, agonizing ache of the engaged twin crowns remained a monstrous, pulsing weight in her lower abdomen, but the terrifying sensation of being split completely apart receded. Safe within the absolute sanctuary of his protective love, she slumped against his chest, her shallow breath catching as she held on through the dark.
Above their locked, desperate struggle for survival, the cold, gray text of the countdown clicked heavily downward:
382 chapters remain.