musicians of old

Chapter 908 The Top of the Tower
"Master Fanning, the night journey has been arduous; welcome to the edge of reality."

A gentle yet eerie voice pierced through the pressure and roar of the thick, viscous light, seeping into Fanning's ears.

"Da da."

The last few steps under my feet.

Fan Ning climbed to the top of the tower expressionlessly, watching the person in front of him bow to him.

Actually, compared to traveling at night, the process of climbing the tower just now also took quite a while.

There's really nothing worth elaborating on.

It is nothing more than a pile of decay, error, evil, and all sorts of things that should not exist.

Fan Ning's loathing for this day that truly stagnated at "noon" had reached an unparalleled level, but correspondingly, his emotions had also stabilized to an unparalleled level.

Yes, stable and reciprocal.

He was almost accepting of everything that might happen—in fact, he had already accepted it; he was almost prepared to get involved in every conflict—in fact, he had already gotten involved.

The dangerous individual before me was still impeccably dressed in a retro formal suit, with his cane resting to one side and his top hat tucked under his arm. After giving a slight bow, he gestured for me to proceed.

Fan Ning remained calm as he continued walking, passing the Descent of God congregation who sat silently on both sides.

On the vast, filthy platform of phlegm, the latter people appeared excessively clean in their clothing and on their bodies. Men and women alike wore light-colored linen robes with wide sleeves, were barefoot, and had their hair loose or tied in simple knots. Their eyes were bright, and they wore serene smiles that were almost blissful.

In the context of one of the three major orthodox churches in the past, any one of them would have been considered to have the demeanor of a "high-ranking clergyman." However, in this situation, which is close to the peak of a nightmare, being watched, enveloped, and surrounded by so many eyes makes him appear even more bizarre and incongruous.

The sky is so close.

Reaching out, one could almost immerse oneself in the vibrant, greasy, diseased tissue. Without even looking up, one could clearly see how the deep purple holes opened and closed, how the dark red bulges pulsated, and how the milky white serpentine vortexes coiled together. As for the "Midday Moon," covered in wrinkles and mucus, it now occupied half the sky. The entire tower, including the people on it, was set against this ghastly green "silver screen."

The only thing protecting the last vestige of order and ensuring it doesn't dissolve is these "dust particles" in the air.

Fragments of "Blade," or particles of "Raging Silver Flakes," embers gleaming with a sharp aura, and the remnants of the "Director's" control orders.

Fanning, carrying a lantern, walked through the groups of seated congregants and brushed past Mr. F.

He arrived at the edge of the tower.

Take a step forward and gaze into the distance.

A vast ocean.

The entire landscape had completely melted into liquid under the daylight, with various colors of waste oil churning and surging. The waves moved slowly and viscously, and their roars were drawn out, interspersed with low humming sounds and high-pitched, piercing whistles.

The tower beneath my feet has become the only isolated island.

Ironically, this is the real collapse. In comparison, the Moonlit Night, where there were previously scattered "sanctuaries" and "controlled zones," was a tranquil place for souls to rest.

After gazing into the distance for a few seconds, the burning sensation on my retina returned. "This sight is truly awful," Mr. F's voice came from behind.

"Shouldn't you all find it 'beautiful'?" Fan Ning laughed somewhat absurdly.

Originally, I wasn't in the mood for much small talk, but given Fan Ning's current state of mind, he wasn't as wary of these dangerous or authoritarian figures as he had been before, and we just exchanged a few words.

Moreover, this person's opening remarks were indeed funny and laughable, as if the positions and roles of both parties had been reversed.

“The beautiful thing is the ‘new world,’ not the present one.” Mr. F sighed and shook his head to correct him. “What we see now is just a failed work thanks to your own cleverness. When I sent Koseli to meet with you, I actually conveyed this meaning. However, considering that it can also be considered our entrance to the new world, I can tolerate it for now and wait a little longer.”

“Okay.” Fan Ning nodded and turned around. “Now that you’ve waited, think about going back.”

"Is this your new masterpiece? Or... your trump card?" Mr. F looked at the lantern in his hand, which was radiating a dazzling starlight, with amusement.

“Who doesn’t think they’ve found a few good cards in their hand when they try to get back to the gambling table?” Fanning laughed. “You, me, and the guy above us, we’re all full of anticipation for what’s to come, for what we believe to be a new world.”

“It seems you’re definitely in better shape now,” Mr. F praised, pacing back and forth. “I attended your lecture during the last ‘Day,’ which wasn’t ‘Eternal Day.’ I learned a great deal; it was brilliant. It seems this masterpiece in the lamp probably also benefited from the ‘Secret of Endless Respite,’ right? But you must take good care of it, otherwise everything will be reset when the ritual starts, and all your efforts will be in vain. Would you like me to do a little favor for you?”

Hmm? That's a problem!? No!? Fanning's heart skipped a beat, and her palms, which were holding the lantern, almost broke out in a cold sweat again.

As expected of a dangerous individual, this bluff almost made Fan Ning think he had overlooked a fatal detail. However, he quickly realized that the place was an "exception," and that his two "Night Pilgrimages" used to solidify his divinity possessed a belatedly self-consistent destiny.

"You went to that virtual realm too, and almost tricked me once. There's no need to use such low-level tricks a second time." A meaningful smile appeared on Fan Ning's lips.

It's ridiculous! The "starlight" inside the lantern won't be reset at all! The scattered "grids" of the music masters I collected won't return to their scattered state in the void just because of the exorcism ritual!
The Void Realm is the only special case. As the "riverbed beneath the riverbed" and the "downstream of the long river", time has no meaning in terms of sequence. How can we understand the reset here?
If there were no second part to "Night Pilgrimage," and only Fanning's personal obsessions and solace "starlight" remained in the lamp, after time was reversed, relying solely on his so-called "willpower" to resist the reset, more than 80% of them would likely be in vain. However, once the "character" of the masters was also retrieved from the virtual world and the star map was integrated into one, all of this would be insignificant.

This is the self-consistency of fate, the self's gift and fulfillment after Fanning integrated his personal obsessions into a grander and deeper perspective.

However, he was not the only one who took advantage of the characteristics of the virtual realm.

Fan Ning realized at this moment that the dangerous elements probably had the same idea—to seal the further "power of the end" in the form of a fake Bach in the virtual world so that it could be preserved after the spacetime reset.

As for Pogrerich, he adopted a different approach: the Witness can observe the form of "noon" more completely. Although the position will temporarily regress after the reset, as long as enough "anchor points" embodying its own principles have been set up beforehand, the right to pass through the wound of the "Dome Gate" can be preserved without worry.

"Wouldn't it be better if Master Fan Ning had a more reliable grasp of the situation, so that I could save some effort?"

Mr. F didn't seem to care about Fanning's "exposing" him.

Or perhaps this person wasn't afraid that Fanning would bring those "starlight" back to the past, and he had simply asked if he needed help.

"So, shall we begin our main topic?" He pointed to one of the corners where the believers sat together. "Let's examine the fruits of our Mithraic congregation's hard work over this period of time. Although it was a bit rushed, it's just enough as a temporary substitute, hehe. For example, this most important item."

"It has been waiting for you. Your approach makes it closer to the past."

Fanning frowned and looked at the group of believers gathered in the middle.

An "Egyptian cat goddess statue" made from filthy materials and crookedly shaped.