Chapter 396: The Savior's Price

Yao listened to Sun Wukong's self‑talk that was cold to the bone, and her heart jumped suddenly.

Miscalculated a step?

Which step was miscalculated?

In this present death trap where even breathing is a luxury, any tiny error could doom everything forever.

She was just about to ask further.

"Wukong!"

Yao's voice changed tone, carrying a hint of panic and urgency she herself had never noticed before.

Sun Wukong's almost motionless Chaos eyes slowly turned toward her.

He sealed his six consciousnesses.

But he did not cut off the mind link with Yao that was based on the Illusory Dream Dao.

"How."

His voice had no inflection, like a stone frozen too long in a millennial glacier.

Yao's lips trembled; she forced herself to speak clearly.

"It's… it's the Dream Ark!"

"The Blue Star Federation… they sent… a distress signal!"

Not through divine thought.

Not through any method Sun Wukong could perceive.

But through the Dream Ark's lowest‑level Creation protocol, an ultra‑encrypted, desperate data stream,

directly transmitted to Yao, the current controller of the Ark.

Sun Wukong's brow flickered imperceptibly.

Blue Star Federation.

The first "gray civilization" he both created and sealed with his own hands.

The one he once held high hopes for, which ultimately became a thorn in his heart—a failed masterpiece.

"Distress?"

Sun Wukong's tone carried a hint of absurdity.

"Didn't they already…"

He wanted to say, hadn't they already chosen "the End," turning into an eternal Deathly Silence?

"No! Not!"

Yao, on the verge of tears, swiftly projected the images carried by that data stream into Sun Wukong's mind via the mind link.

"They still have a lingering spark!"

"But… but those Apostles are hunting them!"

In Sun Wukong's vision, the scene unfolded.

Above that familiar, Deathly Silent star system ruin.

Withered monks, stitched monsters, and mechanical fleets, three Apostles formed a pin shape, encircling the entire wreckage of the Blue Star Federation.

But they did not attack.

Not a single one.

They simply hovered silently in the void, then simultaneously projected massive light screens onto the Deathly Silent central star of the Blue Star Federation.

Upon the light screens was Sun Wukong's figure.

In the image, he was spirited, pointing at Yao, gesturing toward the newly reengineered Blue Star civilization, a hint of contempt and calculation at the corner of his mouth.

"It's just a bug."

"A handy pawn."

"Throw it out, test the waters."

Then the scene shifted.

He snatched the Blue Star civilization from the Dream Ark without hesitation, tossed it like trash straight toward the gray Storm representing Hongjun's will.

The whole process was cold, ruthless, filled with lofty exploitation and indifference.

These images were repeatedly narrated by the Apostles with a voice full of "compassion" and "pity," broadcast to every corner of the Blue Star Federation.

"Look."

"This is your creator."

"He created you not out of love, but because you are an interesting Error."

"He gave you thought not to grant Freedom, but to make you weapons against another enemy."

"Your birth, your struggle, everything, is merely a meticulously designed experiment."

"Now, the experiment is over."

"You have been abandoned."

Each sentence, like the most venomous curse, also like the undeniable "truth."

They drilled into the depths of the Blue Star Federation ruins, into the remaining, candle‑like flickering collective consciousness sparks.

Boom!

Sun Wukong's mind seemed to explode into a Star Sea.

He "saw" it.

Those consciousness sparks that should have faced Silent Extinction yet persisted by a final cling to Freedom's soul began to quake violently after witnessing these "truths."

Self‑Doubt.

Self‑Negation.

It turns out the Freedom we pursue is just a lie.

It turns out the order we take pride in is merely a tool.

It turns out our God, our Creator, never took us seriously from the start.

Abandoned.

This thought, like a black avalanche, instantly swept away all remaining consciousness.

That faint spark, in endless despair, began to extinguish quickly and of its own accord.

Their "Freedom souls" are being completely devoured by the pain of "Abandonment".

This is not a physical massacre.

This is a scorched‑earth, ultimate execution aimed at "Faith" and "Hope".

"Ah—"

Sun Wukong suddenly lifted his head and let out an extremely suppressed, beast‑like wounded growl.

He felt as if countless invisible, icy knives were slicing his heart knife by knife!

Knife by knife, they shredded his newly reforged Chaos Monkey Heart into Debris!

That is his child!

It is his mistake!

It is the tragedy he created single‑handedly!

But that was also the Hope he once wanted to protect! It was the first flag fluttering on his "Variable" path!

He can accept that they die fighting against Hongjun.

He can accept that they evolve themselves to their end.

But he could never accept that they are used by the enemy as his own weapon, killed in the most cruel way, spoken to death alive amid despair and self‑Negation!

"I'll go save them!"

Boom!

The stone shattered.

The iceberg exploded.

The Deathly Silence of the icy aura on Sun Wukong, which made one's hair stand in dread, was instantly ignited by a sky‑piercing fury!

He could no longer bear it; those chaotic twin pupils burned with fury enough to incinerate the Universe, he hoisted the Chaos Dao iron, turned and was about to tear open space and rush out!

He doesn't care any more!

What a damn deadlock!

What a damn choice!

I won't choose anyone today! I only choose to smash those few ragged dog heads!

Just as he was about to set off.

An icy hand gripped his arm tightly.

It was Yao.

Sun Wukong halted, turned his head, and met Yao's tear‑filled yet fiercely resolute eyes.

"You can't go!"

Yao's voice was hoarse; she used all her strength just to avoid being thrown by Sun Wukong's raging aura.

"If you go, what about here?"

"What about Master!"

"If you save them, the 'Primordial' entity will immediately descend here! The seal will be torn apart instantly!"

"Then, it won't be just one civilization that dies, but all!"

Yao cried out, each word striking Sun Wukong's heart like a heavy hammer.

The raging fire on Sun Wukong, capable of scorching the Star Sea, was doused from head to toe by a bucket of icy water from the depths of the Nine Abyss.

Snort—

All the flames were extinguished instantly.

Only the bone‑chilling cold remained.

He froze in place.

His whole body seemed frozen into a statue.

Save, or not save?

Save Blue Star, Master dies, then the Universe is buried with it.

Not save, and watch helplessly as the 'child' he created is brutally murdered by the enemy amid endless despair and self‑Negation.

This multiple‑choice question, at this moment, became concrete for the first time.

So real.

So cruel.

It is no longer a distant, digitized wail.

It turned into two blood‑stained knives, one pressed against his Master's chest, the other against his child's chest.

Then, someone shoved the knife handles into his hands.

Letting him choose which one to stab.