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Chapter 1641 Final Chapter: Guarding the Coastline: "OE: Die from the Ocean (26)"

Wherever they go, they should remember that the past is an illusion, memories are a road with no return, all past springs cannot be restored, and even the most passionate and tenacious love is ultimately nothing more than a fleeting reality.

[—Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude]

……

The Tower of Creation shone brightly, and people felt a gentle pull, their consciousness seemingly detached from their heavy bodies, soaring towards the magnificent IF line. They saw the spires of a fantastical castle, the shimmering lights of a futuristic city, and the idyllic wheat fields of a pastoral idyll…

The torrent of text poured in along the "barrier" on the surface of the lost pearl star and was engraved inside the star.

Spring was so close to them, as if they could reach out and touch it...

Then, the touch stopped.

Humanity did not cross the barrier with the torrent of words, but remained in a small world, firmly blocked outside by the barrier.

Success has passed, and only words remain.

As the first rays of dawn descended on the morning of December 31, 2118, people looked up in bewilderment, their bodies as heavy as blocks of iron, unable to soar into the sky as they had hoped.

On the high platform, Su Ming'an's face was frighteningly calm.

Soon, the news spread like wildfire, and voices from those in the know emerged.

It all started on a fringe forum when an account verified as belonging to the "Frontier Physics Institute" posted a complex energy waveform diagram with a caption of just a few words: "[We can't get past this... we never have! The so-called IF line is... a lie!]"

Then, inside the Tower of Creation, images were transmitted by staff—the life support pods for the 100,000 Creators were not functioning stably, but were operating beyond capacity. They were not "writing" the world, but being ground and purified by some force… their life force was rapidly dissipating. It was as if they were not saviors, but a kind of sacrificial ink.

A former researcher with the online name "Sweet Mountain" revealed: "I realized from the very beginning that the 'Creation Pen' could not possibly break through the world barrier! It is essentially an information reconstruction device based on our existing physical rules, and can only create isolated virtual worlds within the rules of 'Lost Pearl Star'. In other words, it can only replicate our world within Lost Pearl Star, and cannot take people there! From the beginning, the World Lord knew that we couldn't get through!"

Then, more "insider information" spread like wildfire:

“My uncle works in the Tower of Creation maintenance department. He said that those creators weren’t ‘writing’ at all; they had long since become fuel!”

"If books pass away, people can pass away too? We've all been deceived! This isn't creation at all, it's a sacrifice! It's the suicide of the entire civilization!"

Once a lie is torn open even slightly, the doubts, anxieties, and dark imaginings hidden beneath the brilliance that have accumulated over seventy years surge forth.

This raises a question: if these people all knew the truth, why did it only erupt at this moment? However, they soon realized that perhaps it was because the "Ming'an System" had been firmly controlling public opinion, and the Realm Lord's ability to rewind time had suppressed all living beings. Only when the truth could no longer be buried did these voices have a chance to emerge.

This also shows that... the Lord of the Realm no longer suppresses these voices, allowing them to surge towards all living beings.

"Choosing the IF line was just to give us a glimmer of hope before despair! The real plan was to extract the informational essence of the entire civilization to create a new world for the hundreds of thousands who could pass through the barrier! We've all been deceived! Seventy years of effort, just to create a grand sacrifice!"

"Lord Su Ming'an... he is no longer the hero who led us to victory in the World Game! He is a dragon that devours our hopes!"

Panic and anger spread like wildfire, gradually engulfing the civilization that had just been full of hope.

Some questioned whether the emotional shift was too rapid, but they quickly became immersed in it.

A seven-colored bottle floated behind Su Ming'an, transparent and invisible.

"fraud!"

"We were deceived for seventy years! We gave everything!"

"What are we being treated like? Insignificant ants in someone's writing?!"

“Perhaps the Lord of the Realm also has some hidden secrets, he has other plans…” A few rational voices were overturned by emotions that seemed to have been prepared all along. Even though the “Ming An System” could quickly quell the chaos, it remained silent.

The riots erupted almost instantly, the city was engulfed in flames, and rioters stormed the world's central hub. The army, prepared in advance, held its ground firmly.

Gesang Gyatso listened blankly to the frantic messages on the communicator and the distant explosions. He remembered the black-haired woman's words and the World Lord's farewell look.

"A lie...? Is it really a lie?"

On the streets, people went from ecstasy to attacking each other, accusing each other of not having doubted the truth and of believing such an obvious lie.

"Doesn't anyone have any questions?"

"Of course there are! There have always been dissenting voices online, but some people insist that experts are endorsing it. It's impossible that all those in power are lying to us, so no one dares to say anything."

"What good is knowing the truth? If you speak out, you'll be invited for tea. Public opinion is tightly controlled."

"We're just ordinary people, what can we do? We can only wait to die."

"I still don't believe it..."

Those who still believe in the World Lord are the older generation who experienced the World Game. However, most people are from the newer generation, who did not experience the World Game a century ago, and have only admired the World Lord's former glory through history and various video memorials. History and firsthand experience are ultimately different. If they were to witness firsthand the "rebellion" of a great man, how could they uphold their trust in the face of devastating despair?

The Realm Lord Su Ming'an, the god they have worshipped for a hundred years, the being who led them through their wandering, struggle, and last hope, personally wove a colossal lie that lasted for seventy years and led the entire civilization to its doom!
He is not a savior.

He is... a demon.

Perhaps he was already exhausted. After all, a century had passed, and he had transformed from a human into a god. Every time he appeared on camera, his expression was extremely indifferent, and he had even issued extremely ruthless orders to eliminate innocent people. In his eyes, perhaps civilization was already above all else. Knowing that crossing the barrier was hopeless, he would naturally choose to preserve a minority as the spark of hope. Isn't this a common action of those in power in a civilized society?

Therefore, it is entirely reasonable for him to deceive the world with lies and make the majority of people work for the survival of the minority for seventy years.

He really... deceived them.

……

The world's hub, the command center.

The fifth-generation Chief of Staff of the United Government, Sotuya, was deathly pale. He stiffly looked up at the figure in white, his voice trembling with tears: "Why... Lord of the Realm! Why did you do this! We clearly... we clearly still had a chance..."

Su Ming'an opened his eyes.

The golden pupils were no longer deep or weary; only emptiness remained.

He ignored all the chaos and despair, ignored the apocalypse unfolding globally, and slightly raised his head to look at the lost star on the star map that was gradually "digesting" the small world.

"tired."

He spoke softly, his voice carrying clearly through the deathly silent hall.

"I've been searching for a hundred years, it's exhausting."

"A few live, and all die... I chose the former."

"Now...it's quiet."

His figure began to blur, and his long, colorful hair, like embers after a fire, began to dissipate little by little.

"As for you..."

His gaze swept over the familiar yet unfamiliar faces, filled with despair and hatred, and a weary smile curved his lips.

"Goodbye."

The words fell.

The figure in white vanished completely, as if it had never existed.

He is "asleep".

After a century of perseverance, He finally exhausted His ability to act. He transformed into a stream of light and returned to the World Tree to slumber, leaving behind only a chaotic world of people and a small world about to be swallowed by the Lost Pearl Star.

At the edge of the small world, corruption, engulfment, and dissolution have already occurred, with some uninhabited city ruins turning into dust.

Extreme hope shattered into utter despair.

The gods themselves wrote the ending for their people.

He himself sank into that vast, boundless, and undisturbed azure ocean that he had already chosen.

……fraud.

……

What people didn't see was that after the World Lord disappeared and the live stream was cut off, Chief of Staff Sotuya, who had just been questioning the World Lord, quickly suppressed his anger. All the officials, researchers, and players at the highest levels of the World Hub calmed down and, as if they had been prepared, began to act accordingly.

"According to the Realm Lord's previous arrangements, proceed with the plan," Sotuya said calmly, without the slightest hesitation.

……

On December 31, 2118, someone stepped forward.

He is the "second person" who resides in the small world after the world lord, and is also regarded as the right-hand man of a "prime minister" level figure.

Perhaps sensing the Realm Lord's indifference, he has gradually drifted apart from the Realm Lord over the past twenty years, almost never appearing in the same place again. Some speculate that he may no longer regard the Realm Lord as the "good person" he once knew.

His appearance now serves as a good response to this speculation.

"Don't panic, Lord of the Realm... Su Ming'an's soul couldn't hold on any longer and has fallen into a deep sleep. He failed to complete the final step, sending us all to the guillotine. Now, we still have a chance to reverse fate. We can take advantage of His slumber to destroy His plans." In the video, the white-haired youth's eyes were lifeless as he said in a deep voice, "I think you've all heard of a name—Bei Wang. For the past hundred years, he has been dedicated to recording information about extraterrestrial objects, and has already reached the realm of higher dimensions, even possessing a small world. If we want to reverse Earth's fate of being swallowed by the Lost Pearl Star, we can leave Earth, go to Bei Wang's small world, and abandon this doomed shipwreck!"

"Migrating again and again, is this our fate?" someone lamented.

"Great! There really is still hope!" Some people grasped at the hope of survival.

"I knew the higher-ups had a backup plan. They wouldn't give up on something this big!"

"Could this be another conspiracy?"

"But that's the only way."

"When we traveled from Rovasa to the small world, we consumed a lot of energy. Now, where will our energy come from?" someone in the audience asked.

Lu Shu's eyelashes trembled slightly.

His fist clenched and unclenched, drawing blood, hidden beneath the wooden podium, unseen by anyone.

"This small world is destined to become a shipwreck..." Lu Shu said slowly, his voice hoarse, as if sawdust scraping against the ground. He quickly realized his mistake and immediately raised his voice.

"I will... be with the gods of Cloud City..."

"Slay... the World Tree."

"Draw energy from it and dedicate it to our... final voyage."

……

When the public heard the news, their minds went blank for a moment.

Slaying the World Tree... wouldn't that be equivalent to slaying...

In fact, many people can understand Su Ming'an's actions; rather than dying together, it's better to save a few. But since they themselves are part of the sacrifice, it's difficult for them to remain calm.

Ascending to the small world to the north, without any adjustments or defenses, is tantamount to severing the path of civilization's development. It's uncertain whether it will fail, and the price would be the death of the World Tree—there's no turning back. Therefore, the World Lord likely chose a safer approach, saving only a select few…

However, even with the slightest chance of survival, people still want to live rather than be destined to die.

Friends around us, childhood sweethearts, lovers about to get married, elderly couples who have walked hand in hand... the desire to live is a human instinct.

How could anyone... willingly abandon this instinct and drown in a sea destined to sink?

How could there be anyone?

……

“Boris, if you were here, you would be able to see what that guy is doing…” In the cemetery, the white-haired Ryan leaned against the tombstone, clutching a small gold pendant, and murmured drunkenly.

……

"Liar! You liar!" In the tavern, Eli smashed a bottle and roared furiously at Su Ming'an's figure on the screen.

……

Bei Wang opened his eyes from a long sleep, raising his palm to spin a blue hexagon. The next moment, Yueyue's voice emanated from within the hexagon: "He's made up his mind?"

“It was decided very early,” Bei Wang said.

……

Su Lin returned from the long voyage and put a crystal lighthouse pendant in her pocket.

……

In the highest-level office of the World Hub, the blond-haired, blue-eyed Kelsar sat behind a large desk, a leather-bound diary open before him. His pen moved fluently, leaving behind the last few lines of clear and neat handwriting:

[New Era Records, Morning of December 31, 2118]

Lord Su Ming'an, the Lord of the Realm, fell into slumber at dawn today.

The "Creation Project" has been terminated. The jump procedure has been aborted.

[In accordance with the Emergency Regulations and the prior authorization of the Lord of the Realm, His Excellency Lü Shu, His Excellency Bei Wang, and the Emergency Committee of the United Government shall temporarily assume command of the Civilization.]

[I have fulfilled my personal responsibilities.]

May civilization...progress.

The pen paused slightly over the word "forward." He closed his diary, slowly tightened the pen cap, and placed it aside, his movements meticulous, as if this were just one of countless ordinary tasks.

At this moment, the office door was pushed open.

Lin Yin stood at the door, dressed in a crisp military uniform, her epaulets cold and clear, and a few more strands of white hair at her temples than yesterday. Behind her followed two expressionless officers from the Ministry of Internal Affairs, dressed in black uniforms.