The Great Dream God

Edward stood on the top of the Tunguska volcano, a natural giant that is considered a forbidden place by the world. Under his feet was the boiling magma, like molten gold, hot and wild. His figure appeared majestic and aloof in the light of the fire, like a king who conquered the world, overlooking this hellish territory he had stepped on.

His eyes were deep, shining with endless pride and satisfaction, as if he had found the treasure he had been looking for all his life in the fire. The joy of victory was more dazzling than any gold, silver or jewelry. The corners of his mouth were raised, mocking fate and praising himself for his challenge. He, Edward, was the lucky man, who overcame all obstacles along the way and reached the top of the volcano with unparalleled speed and determination.

His heartbeat resonated with the pulse of the volcano. Every beat was like a low roar from the depths of the volcano. It was a praise to the earth and a hymn to the fearlessness of the brave. He closed his eyes and tried to listen to the roar from the center of the earth. The sound was deep and powerful, like the chanting of an ancient god. Every note was announcing his victory, and every rhythm was praising his tenacity.

The wind whistled in his ears, the flames jumped in front of his eyes, Edward stood on the edge of the world, feeling the warmth and magnificence of life. His chest rose and fell, and every breath was a love for life and a desire for challenges. He, Edward, stood on the top of the volcano, not only a conqueror, but also a practitioner of dreams. His story will be forever engraved on this hot rock and passed down to the world.

Meng Jin, the observer standing on the edge of time, quietly stands on the other side of the dream, his eyes as deep as stars, staring at everything in front of him. The light flowing in his eyes is complex and subtle, like the stars in the night sky, flashing with doubts, admiration, and interweaving with a subtle expectation. His eyes are like a mirror, reflecting his insight into the world, his understanding of human nature, and his endless thinking about fate.

He shook his head gently, his movements were graceful and calm, as if he was flicking off a speck of dust from the corner of his clothes, or as if he was regretting an irreversible decision. A sigh, like the long autumn sky, flowed from his lips, distant and deep, with admiration for his opponent and determination to challenge himself. He said, "Edward, you are indeed an extraordinary character. Your tenacity is like a rock, your perseverance is like a river, and your indomitable spirit is like the protagonist on the stage, shining brightly and impossible to ignore."

There is endless power in his words, and every word is like a carefully carved gem, bright and hard. His words are like the strong notes in a piece of music, striking people's hearts, and making it impossible to doubt his determination. "No wonder I feel it's difficult. Your existence is like an insurmountable barrier, but I firmly believe that the wheel of fate has begun to turn. Your glory will become the cornerstone of my climb to the top, and your light will illuminate my way forward."

Edward was completely unaware of the abnormality around him. His heart was tightly surrounded by the aura of victory, like the shining stars, illuminating every corner of his heart. His world was now filled with endless joy, like a flower in spring, blooming with the most brilliant colors, and every petal was filled with the fragrance of victory.

He stood on the top of the volcano, the fiery crater was like the passion burning in his chest, the red lava rolled under his feet, like his brilliant achievements, rolling forward, unstoppable. Every drop of lava splashed was the mark of his victory, every wave of heat swept was his fearless declaration. His eyes reflected the blazing light, which was the pride of the victor, the glory of the conqueror.

However, at this glorious peak moment, a subtle doubt quietly crept into his heart. He frowned, like a confused poet facing an unknown poem, and whispered to himself: "Why can I hear those faint sounds? Is all this just a dream?" His voice seemed so small in the echo of the volcano, but so firm.

His thoughts began to wander between reality and dreams, like a dancing butterfly, sometimes flying to the fiery reality, sometimes drifting to the deep dream. He was lost between the two, but searching in the lost, it was a feeling that was both familiar and strange, like a distant ballad, low and long, coming from the depths of another world.

Edward stood on the top of the Tunguska volcano, where lava was boiling. He held a sharp sword made of black iron in his hand. The sword was shining coldly in the blazing fire, just like the fighting spirit burning in his eyes. This sword witnessed his transformation from a young boy to an iron-blooded warrior, and carried his countless struggles and tenacity. Every scratch on it was the mark of his overcoming difficulties, and every mottled mark was the mark of his struggle against fate.

Edward's voice roared in the wind of the crater, like thunder passing through dark clouds, stirring up endless majesty and power, leaving every echo imprinted in the veins of time. The self-righteous blacksmith's ridicule was like a sharp arrow, ruthlessly piercing Edward's heart, but he never expected that those biting sneers would become the melting pot that gave birth to heroes.

"How could he understand that it was his arrogance and contempt that ignited the fire deep in my heart and allowed me to break out of the predicament." Edward's eyes were like stars, shining with a tenacious light. "The indifferent eyes of my relatives are like winter frost and snow, cold and ruthless, but they condensed into an indestructible shield in my heart. In that cold tempering, I forged a steel-like will, like volcanic magma, hot and fearless."

Every sneer and every cold look left deep marks in Edward's life. These marks were not pain, but a testimony to his strength.

His voice was like thunder exploding in the endless abyss of a volcano. Every note was wrapped in blazing magma, burning with endless passion and determination. It was a deep power, like iron in a furnace, becoming incomparably hard after being baptized by fire. Every word he said was like a blazing tongue of fire, licking the silent air, imprinted in the long river of time, and echoing for a long time.

Edward, this name now stands like a towering monument before the eyes of the world. His pride, as dazzling as the scorching sun, is a proud smile at past sufferings and a fearless declaration of future challenges. Those once contemptuous looks, mocking laughter, and even malicious trampling were all turned into ladders for him to climb, step by step to the peak of victory.

"I, Edward, have stood on the top of the Tunguska volcano, which is regarded as a miracle!" His words were like a storm, sweeping away all doubts. "Those who once looked down on me and regarded me as an ant must now look up to me, just as they worship this unconquerable volcano! Their awe will be my song of victory and my badge of glory!"