Chapter 615: A group of divinities; the laughter of the

The universe is very quiet; at this moment, except for the history of the rise and fall of a civilization playing on the screen, no similar story is unfolding.

The "Legion" did not pick on a soft target at this time, and the "Abundance" Aeon did not bestow new blessings.

Whether in "Penacony" or the desolate world of "Pegan."

Looking at the white text on the black background on the screen, the audience felt the long river of history belonging to the Foundation rushing toward them.

Carrying countless individuals in civilization, mixed with one love-hate entanglement after another.

Rolling down from the upper reaches of time, rushing toward the end of time.

But because of this, they could also realize more.

They were just one of the many people seeing this history in later generations, not the eyewitnesses or participants of that history.

They didn't know how many collisions of thought there were in the human civilization at that time, what state the society was in, what struggles and attempts the Foundation had made, and what trade-offs the various forces had made.

At least, their civilization did not have a blue moon called the "Empyrean Parasite."

They also didn't need to consider what attitude to adopt to face those "former compatriots" who did not belong to the same species from the underlying logic of biology.

"Looking at it, one feeling: the 'Empyrean Parasite' has subjective consciousness, not as the Foundation guessed in the file. Personally, I think it is more likely to remain silent and observe the changes in the world."

"Then what is it after? Watching a civilization have internal strife… looking for fun? A Supreme Divinity version of 'Lord of Chang-Le'?"

"It's not impossible, after all, in our universe, even 'Elation' can become a path that can be practiced."

"My advice is don't guess—only Supreme Divinity can threaten Supreme Divinity. It might be conducting an experiment, it might be looking for fun, it might be driven by instinct, or it might be seeking to expand its own power."

"Well said, let's go back to the Foundation."

"Did the Foundation flip the table?"

"Sure enough, irreconcilable contradictions are zero-sum games at first, and eventually slide endlessly into negative-sum games."

"Since everyone can't coexist, and you still want to create a world where only you exist, then just destroy this world."

"The logic is such logic, but why does this sound a bit chuunibyou?"

"A vast white land, truly clean… but as long as the 'Deus Ex Machina' is not destroyed, the Foundation still has the ability to rebuild human civilization."

"If everything really develops according to the script set by the Foundation, as long as they survive the initial destruction, human civilization can usher in a rebirth."

……

But the next story exceeded the audience's imagination.

The earth was torn apart, the ocean was burning, and the sky was full of storms.

O5-8 looked at the burning sea surface and smiled sadly.

Thaumaturgical fluctuations rushed into the ocean, causing it to start burning out of thin air.

Since then, it was only a matter of time before the existing world perished.

Undoubtedly, this is what the Foundation wanted.

O5-8 saw magma bubbling out of a crustal crack not far away.

That dark red viscous liquid, like squirming syrup, flowed slowly past his feet along the terrain.

He looked up, looking at the sky occupied by various firelights and thick smoke, and saw the mutants outside the sky.

They might not see him.

But he could see them, through the thick atmosphere of the planet.

He was very proud that so many of them survived.

In fact, this is everything he once pursued; he felt he was lucky enough that so many were saved and were able to take this species to new heights.

Or further distances.

Space is interesting.

He thought.

He spent so many years taking care of this absurd little species—watching them grow up, taking the first step out of the ocean, and coming to live under the sun.

If he asked himself, he actually preferred deep-sea species, but unexpectedly, their intelligence was not as good as primates.

But he suddenly mocked himself again; it might be another form of intelligence, such as mutual destruction.

The sound of destruction, mixed with the screams of the mutants on those planets being ignited, was carried into his ears by the hurricane.

But he did love humanity.

He carried their sadness on his broad shoulders, allowing them to develop in peace.

When they built magnificent cities, he watched silently in the depths, pushing back the darkness that might appear at any time.

Since the establishment of the Foundation, he felt the future was bright, but he was also worried that they were a bit… too enthusiastic.

If O5-8 was willing to do his best, he could have completed this work alone, but the burden the Foundation had shared for him over the years made him quite comfortable.

Therefore, he chose to observe them from the inside, leading them in the right direction as much as possible without overturning them.

Now, he watched his efforts fail ridiculously; under the guidance of a Supreme Divinity, most humans chose another path.

What their future will be… thank goodness, that is no longer important.

They might have gained the freedom they fantasized about, or entered a new cage.

It is highly likely to be the latter.

Even if it is divinity.

Even if it is Supreme Divinity.

Or those great existences among the Supreme Divinities who transcend the multiverse, become narratives, and transcend everything.

They would not say they have true freedom.

There are boxes outside boxes, infinite boxes outside infinite boxes…

However…

O5-8 took a deep breath, feeling the aura belonging to the "Empyrean Parasite" on the world fading rapidly, being ignited by fire into something called "daily."

At least, he could temporarily put down the title of the Eighth Overseer and unload the heavy burden he had carried for a long time.

"Or, should I go talk to the Administrator?"

He lay down slowly, letting the magma flow over his body, only moving slightly when this stuff was about to bury him or try to invade his mouth and nose.

"Forget it, it's rare to relax… sleep until 'Deus Ex Machina' restarts civilization, and then find an excuse to ask for leave and go out for a stroll." ===== CHAPTER 617 =====