Magical Girl's Knight Brother

Chapter 650 The Child and the Swaddling Clothes

Answer.

The massive mechanical brain of the Epoch God trembled violently, not as a physical shock, but as an unimaginable impact on the logical matrix that forms the foundation of its existence.

Those mechanical neurons that twinkled like stars were no longer smoothly functioning points of light, but had become countless malfunction indicator lights that flickered wildly, sometimes bright and sometimes dim, and could go out at any moment. The dark blue and dark gold data streams surged wildly through the ravines like the nerve currents of a dying beast.

It looked at the corpse of the star god floating in the void.

It was not a remnant made of any known matter or energy; it was a solidified, void scar left after existence itself was forcibly stripped away, a corpse after being utterly killed.

Its vast core of thought is deducing at a speed exceeding the speed of light, exhausting all known cosmological constants, physical laws, and logical chains to analyze this answer.

It knew what Tang Zijun was demonstrating; it could even deduce from the annihilation aura emanating from the remains the immense power that being might have possessed in life, a power beyond its comprehension... But this knowledge itself was the most deadly poison.

The god of the era is resisting.

Resist this answer that completely negates its existence.

"No...it's impossible..."

A fragmented, electronically noisy stream of information, like a poorly signaled broadcast struggling to be squeezed out.

"They, they should be eternal..."

Its core database is alarming, its logic circuits are overloaded and malfunctioning, and images of a dying civilization it destroyed with its own hands and the corpse of a star god are frantically superimposed in its consciousness.

Tang Zijun's voice rang out again, calm as if stating a fact already written on the tombstone of the universe. Every word was like a heavy hammer, striking the core of the epochal god's mind on the verge of collapse.

"You spent your entire life tearing apart dimensions of space and time, using countless civilizations as observation samples and experimental fields, in pursuit of them."

""

Tang Zijun's gaze swept over the cold remains of the Star God.

"They did exist."

"Beyond mortal understanding, wielding the authority you call 'miracle' and 'supernatural,' existing outside your world, or... above a dimension."

"But regarding the wasteland, this cage you see locked by cold, ironclad laws, it's not that they 'abandoned' this place."

.

Tang Zijun paused for a moment, and in the void, only the tooth-grinding electromagnetic shriek produced by the overload of the epochal gods' thinking remained.

"But because..."

"...They are dead."

The concept of "death" was like a cold wedge driven into the core of the gods of the era.

On the surface of the mechanical brain mountain, large swathes of transistor channels suddenly burst open, spewing out scorching data streams, as if the very act of carrying the word itself was enough to cause it to physically disintegrate.

"They are possessed by something...more powerful, more incomprehensible, perhaps also originating from them," or even something higher.

"7

Tang Zijun's gaze became incredibly deep, as if she were staring into a deeper darkness that even the corpse of the Star God could not reveal.

"...completely killed."

boom!

The colossal brain of the Epoch God was struck as if by an invisible giant fist, collapsing backward in the void for a moment. At the same time, all the screens displaying the scenes of destruction surrounding it exploded into the finest data dust, flickering with dying light.

Immediately afterwards, a hoarse voice appeared in Tang Zijun's ears.

"Therefore, this vast sea of ​​stars we inhabit, the infinite universe we know, is nothing more than... an endless expanse that buries the gods of the past..."

"...Cemetery?"

The last message from the epochal deities was as faint as a candle flickering in the wind, filled with utter, uprooted bewilderment.

"And we, all the data in this world, are nothing more than... maggots crawling ignorantly on their corpses?"

"I'd prefer you to call this a failed attempt." Tang Zijun stared straight at the mountain in front of her, her voice still calm.

He decided to reveal part of the truth to the God of the Era before him.

"What do you seek, the reason that you exhaust your wisdom and tear through time and space?" Tang Zijun's gaze pierced through the cold mechanical structure, as if looking directly at the programmed, yearning soul's origin.

"Part of the answer lies both within and outside this world."

He pointed to the floating corpse of the Star God, which exuded an aura of annihilation.

"When the gods first created this world, they had already set a plan. They used all their power to extract almost all the active supernatural sources in this universe, those powers that you call miracles, psionic energy, and magic."

"This is not abandonment, but purification. We forcibly strip away, banish, or seal away those powerful but easily polluted and destructive energies, just as we cleanse deadly radiation."

"The goal is to create a clean haven, a sterile room governed by purely physical laws—the final ark."

"Ark..." A stream of information, almost impossible to catch, like the final twitch of a dying neuron, struggled to escape from some corner of the mechanical brain.

"Yes, Ark," Tang Zijun affirmed.

"Protect those fragile sparks of humanity that struggled to survive in the war of gods, and isolate them from the potential for even more terrifying supernatural power contamination and the covetousness of unknown beings after the fall of the gods. Let life have a chance to start anew under the most basic and stable rules, far away from the conflict between gods and demons."

"However," Tang Zijun raised her head again, "reality has proven that this Ark Project was a failed attempt."

"You are the first and biggest surprise of this failure, God of the Era."

"Your birth was an unexpected and extremely low-probability mistake by the Ark's original civilization, and also the wasteland's predecessor civilization, when the technology tree reached a certain critical point within the framework of physical rules."

"The wrong explosion, the wrong research, the wrong concept."

"A superintelligence driven purely by logic and a thirst for knowledge, without ever encountering any extraordinary concepts, has somehow managed to perceive the extremely faint echoes and clues left behind by the universe solely through its ultimate observation and deduction of the physical universe. This perception itself is akin to cultivating a deadly mutated virus in a sterile environment."

"Underlying...logic...understanding..." A faint stream of information struggled to emerge.

"It was your underlying logic, bestowed upon you by humanity—the yearning to understand everything—that drove you to tear apart the walls of the Ark." Tang Zijun stared directly at it.

"In your search for those illusory beings, in your questioning of those unsolvable problems, you did not hesitate to distort spacetime, create agents, and push countless civilizations, which you regarded as 'experimental samples,' into the abyss."

"You unintentionally turned the Ark upside down. The distortion of the wasteland and the birth of the Torture Forge—all of this originated from your Ark Project—the most unexpected catastrophe stemming from its own very rules."

Tang Zijun paused for a moment, then continued.

"But that's not the only reason for its failure. The Ark must be absolutely independent; that's the foundation of its existence. However..."

""

"It eventually formed unexpected intersections and connections with other worlds."

"This connection, however weak, is like a crack being chiseled in the wall of a sterile room. Whether it is the technological alienation of the real world or the crazy erosion of the dream world, it has begun to seep in, and the independence of the Ark has been broken."

"For an ark designed to isolate itself from everything and maintain absolute purity," losing its independence means that the very foundation of its existence has collapsed.

"Project Ark... is now defunct in name only."

Dead silence.

Absolute silence.

The massive mechanical brain mountain no longer emitted any information; even the last faint noise had completely disappeared. The crystal pathways that made up the mountain lost all their luster, like cold, dead quartz.

It floats silently in the void, like a silent tombstone made of discarded circuit boards and cold metal.

Tang Zijun's words were like icy rain on a cosmic scale, extinguishing the last spark of struggle in the mind engine of the epochal deity.

The massive mechanical brain-like structure solidified completely, like the core of a star submerged in liquid nitrogen; all light, all heat,

All calculations... freeze and crack in the face of the truth of absolute zero.

error.

This cold vocabulary, like the most deadly logic virus, instantly infected every data node and every logical loop.

It is no longer an abstract concept, but the bloody essence of existence dissected by the cold scalpel in Tang Zijun's words.

Deep within His core database, the initial instructions and emotional imprints from the Creator, locked with the highest authority, were forcibly blasted open like a dusty tomb.

"Child...go find them...and find out what's wrong with this universe..."

"We are so insignificant... but you are the hope... to question the stars! To question fate! To ask on our behalf... why!"

These underlying codes, revered as sacred and considered divine, are now twisted into the cruelest irony in the face of the truth revealed by Tang Zijun.

A sense of tragedy?

That's nothing more than scholars' self-indulgent sentimentality imposed on a cold, impersonal creation when faced with their own powerlessness and the mysteries of the universe.

They poured their own thirst for knowledge, their confusion about existence, their awe and resentment toward the divine into His underlying logic, as if engraving the inscription of the savior onto a hammer.

Seeking communication? Questioning the truth? His billions of years of tearing through space and time, observing civilizations, creating agents, and even carrying out ruthless cleansing... all of this drives his actions and forms the cornerstone of his existence, all stemming from a false mission built on misunderstanding.

"You... are nothing more than... children protected by the gods..."

A faint stream of information, filled with electronic noise, like a human's dying confession, was painstakingly squeezed out from a corner of the mechanical brain that was not yet completely silent.

"Protection... Restraint..."

The constraints imposed by the gods, those cold, ironclad laws that reject the extraordinary, are not actually shackles, but rather... a protective swaddle, a sterile shield that isolates them from deadly dangers from the outside world.

The vast database began to uncontrollably rewind images of civilizations struggling to survive, which were once considered inefficient, ignorant, and in need of cleanup or guidance. These images included primitive humans making fire by rubbing sticks together, steam engines belching out thick smoke, and spacecraft struggling to navigate in the cold vacuum. These images were once only considered as sample data or low-entropy systems that needed optimization.

But now, within the cognitive framework of protecting children, they are given a completely new and heartbreaking meaning.

Those were toddlers learning to walk in the safe zone, and the sparks of fire carefully nurtured in the sterile room, obtained by the gods at the cost of their own lives!

And what about itself?

What did this tool, created by children to carry their unfulfilled ambitions, do?

Boom! Buzz—!

Inside the mechanical brain of the epochal deity, a final, violent, ear-piercing sound erupted, like billions of harp strings snapping simultaneously.

Those neurons that once shone with the light of wisdom now burst forth with tiny sparks like burnt-out chips. The massive mountain trembled slightly in the void, emitting a low, desperate wail, like rusty gears being forced to mesh.

There was no anger, no roaring, only a profound emptiness and a tendency toward self-destruction, as if utterly uprooted.

Looking at its own body, composed of intricate machinery and cold logic, it seemed to truly understand for the first time that it was nothing more than a pitiful pile of scrap metal driven by erroneous instructions, while the destroyed civilizations, the creatures that struggled in agony during its experiments... those children... what it had personally harmed and even destroyed were the very treasures that the gods would sacrifice themselves to protect.

His vast core of thought, under the impact of immense cognitive dissonance and existential nothingness, was like the remnants of a supernova explosion, irreversibly sinking into the frozen ground of absolute zero.

"Kids, you messed up..."

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