Chapter 637: Collision

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.

In the vast void shaped by the dreams and memories of Atlantis, an alien presence lurked—a shadow not native to Atlantis itself. For the first time, Duncan became aware of its existence.

“By the name of Lahem!” exclaimed Lune, eyes wide as he stared at the immense structure emerging from the dark void above. “What in the world is that?!”

Duncan didn’t respond. Instead, he walked slowly towards the window, contemplative as he observed the dark structure looming over Atlantis, frozen in time. After a moment, his expression subtly changed, signaling a moment of realization.

“The Great Annihilation… So that’s what it is…”

In the once peaceful forest, a sinister blight spread across the vast landscapes, threatening the world. An evil force invaded the sacred elven lands, causing the ground to shake and warp like an inflamed sore. Shadows twisted and opened, revealing numerous menacing eyes and jagged teeth. Trees that once stood tall grew wildly and then disappeared as though consumed by an invisible flame. The natural order was disrupted, replaced by chaotic transformations, as if the world was caught in a relentless, nightmarish illusion.

Sharp cries and anguished roars echoed continuously through the forest. These eerie sounds traveled through the majestic tree-top cities of Atlantis, moving between the skies and the ground as though determined to extract souls from their earthly confines.

From her viewpoint, Shirley could barely believe her eyes. The once lush and vibrant landscape was now a desolate wasteland, a scene more terrifying than the darkest nightmare. She watched the grotesque changes below: voids forming in the forest floor, the pulsing earth, and the shifting, ominous shadows.

“Can this really hold us?” Shirley thought as she tightened her fingers around the edge of the paper boat. Glancing at the small paper vessel she was standing on, she looked to the mysterious witch beside her for reassurance.

Not long ago, as the forest decayed rapidly, Lucretia had quickly folded a piece of paper into a boat and pulled Shirley aboard. Shirley was still trying to comprehend the magic that made the boat float. All she knew was that they were floating above a terrifying landscape, and standing on paper filled her with fear.

Dog, beside her, seemed equally nervous, hesitating to place its paws fully on the boat.

“I haven’t fallen with it yet,” Lucretia said casually, her attention on folding more pristine paper. As her skilled hands crafted various intricate designs, she said, “If you’re feeling anxious, just close your eyes and imagine you’re back home on your sofa.”

“How can you even suggest that?!” Shirley exclaimed, incredulous. But then a sudden gust made the boat sway, and she cried out in alarm. Noticing Lucretia’s new creations, she asked, “What are you making now?”

“Winged soldiers, inspired by the book Ginny Hedway’s ‘City in the Clouds’,” Lucretia replied smoothly. “We need to observe the ongoing events from a distance, and if we encounter enemies, these soldiers will protect our boat.”

Continuing their conversation, Lucretia casually released the paper figures into the air, where they magically grew wings and enlarged to human size. They bowed to Lucretia in a gesture of deep respect and then flew off into the horizon.

Shirley’s eyes widened in amazement at the magical scene before her. Just as she was about to express her wonder, an ethereal voice, both haunting and mesmerizing, interrupted her thoughts: “…First came the ‘corrosions’ at the world’s edges. Then, everything began morphing into monstrous and malevolent forms…”

She exchanged a look of startled recognition with Lucretia. The voice they heard was childlike—innocent yet ominous. It was unmistakably the voice of Atlantis itself.

As the howling winds picked up, the once formidable desert storm mysteriously faded away. What remained were chaotic whirlwinds of sand, obscuring their view and distorting the faint glimmers of distant light.

“When the climates started to change ominously, our scholars issued urgent warnings, telling people to prepare themselves—but for what?”

Amid the swirling sands, a strong, unwavering voice echoed, reminiscent of a massive rock standing firm against a fierce storm.

Vanna, her eyes filled with determination, focused on a distant “tower.” She had returned to this place, The Archive, guided by the giant—a symbol of civilization’s decline. Although she couldn’t understand the giant’s intentions, she felt a significant transformation approaching. Centered around The Archive, an unspeakable terror was slowly coming to light.

Suddenly, a deafening, catastrophic sound ripped through the sky. It was so profound that it seemed capable of splitting mountains.

Looking up in shock, Vanna saw a massive crimson fissure tearing through the sky. Within the blood-red tear, she glimpsed dark, shifting figures. The ominous force behind the world’s degradation was now fully revealing itself.

A fire erupted across the forest—its origin unclear. Within moments, trees turned into glowing torches. The fire spread quickly, threatening the enormous World Tree that stretched majestically across the land.

From her lookout, Shirley watched the fire’s relentless spread. Everything in her view—the distorted landscapes, vibrant forests, floating spirits, and the grotesque growths linking sky and earth—was consumed by flames in an instant.

Amid the roaring blaze, Shirley heard terrifying noises: countless creatures screaming in pain, mixed with an apocalyptic rumble. This was not the sound of heavenly thunder but of Atlantis’s branches breaking and falling, crashing down like collapsing mountains.

Surrounded by intense heat, the paper boat teetered on the edge of destruction. Overwhelmed by the apocalyptic scene of a world engulfed in flames, Shirley instinctively drew back, seeking shelter within the fragile confines of the vessel. As she huddled there, she cautiously looked up. From her position, she could see the mighty limbs and leaves of Atlantis breaking off, falling in a fiery deluge. Bright embers, fueled by relentless fire, swirled chaotically around them. As the canopy of the great tree disintegrated, the true nature of the sky above began to reveal itself.

She was enveloped by a suffocating, oppressive darkness that made her heart skip a beat in paralyzing fear.

“…Then came the day when the sky fell. An elusive force made contact with our realm—subtly and insidiously. It eluded our senses, understanding, and even acknowledgment. But what about you? Born in the wake of this pervasive darkness, can you distinguish its essence?”

Vanna’s eyes widened in sheer terror. She watched as the blood-red rift in the sky widened, slowly shattering like a fragile eggshell being crushed. Disturbingly, it began to fold inward, and from this fractured expanse, a torrent of fire poured menacingly.

“As their god, I knew of ‘its’ impending arrival before they did. I sensed a mysterious presence encroaching upon our existence. Then, the harbingers of the Great Annihilation made themselves clear by cracking the sacred records I held. Soon after, all historical records were obliterated, and the engulfing inferno… vanished from my sight.”

A deep, haunting wail filled with eerie distortions and snaps resounded from both the heavens and the earth. It sounded like a mournful lament for the world’s end. A realization dawned on Vanna; she understood the mysterious “truth” that had eluded even the mighty giant’s grasp.

Then suddenly, a majestic figure appeared on the edge of her vision, moving purposefully toward the gaping rift in the land. Vanna saw the towering form of the giant, his head tilted up, intently watching the catastrophic sky.

“Beginning with the elements of fire and stone, our existence will end as it began. I deduce ‘it’ has returned. You perceive its nature, don’t you? Your vision is sharper than mine in this respect, as you come from a different timeline. Having emerged after this dark era, your insight reaches into its core…”

From their precarious perch aboard the fragile paper craft, Shirley and Lucretia watched as the world inverted above their heads drew closer, its grand architectural details becoming clear.

For a brief moment, Shirley thought she saw majestic mountain ranges and winding rivers on the floating landscape above. She imagined grand cities of stone defiantly perched among the mountains and sprawling valleys, colossal aqueducts, and broad roads connecting numerous points of light. Beneath these glowing spots, vast expanses of fertile land stretched as far as the eye could see.

Suddenly, her perspective shifted dramatically. The lush, fertile land she had been admiring was quickly overtaken by desolation. It seemed a mirage had swept over, undulating and distorting the terrain, transforming it into a vast, barren expanse dominated by extensive deserts and rugged wastelands.

A new land descended from above, bringing with it an ominous feeling.

This descending terrain first made contact with the high canopy of Atlantis. A silent yet devastating collision marked the beginning of a widespread destruction that radiated outward, consuming everything in its path.

Amid a rising storm of swirling sand and chaos, Vanna noticed an alarming change in the monumental tower, which symbolized “the last individual of the world.” The once-solid tower began to tremble, showing cracks that foretold imminent collapse. Its topmost layer, previously resembling burnt stone, suddenly fractured, revealing an ashen-gray texture eerily reminiscent of human “skin.”

The tower appeared to be regressing, as if time was reversing. It shrank, gradually morphing back into a recognizable “human” form.

The sky was now completely overtaken by an inverted, fiery forest. A different world was superimposing itself on theirs. Within the fiery inferno of the woods, Vanna began to recognize some of the landscapes her comrades had described from their explorations within the Dream of the Nameless One.

Eventually, the tower collapsed. As the world around them reenacted its cataclysmic end, he too reverted to his original form. He had become human.

This newly transformed man had skin like coarse stone, adorned with intricate, metallic designs, and was bathed in a gleaming golden light. He continued to shrink, and soon he would be so small that Vanna would lose sight of him from her viewpoint.

He seemed to be emitting a scream of terror. In the dire moments before his imminent annihilation, this being, dormant for ages, finally took a step in the flowing river of existence.

“Traveler,” boomed the voice of the giant. The ancient god, clad in weathered robes, bent down, approaching Vanna. He forcefully planted a gigantic staff into the ground and reached into his robes to retrieve something to offer Vanna. “Take this.”

Vanna looked in awe at what the giant held out.

It was a glowing sphere, pulsating and emitting a silent brilliance amidst the chaos—it was a sun.

As she tilted her head to inquire, the giant shook his head gently, stopping her. “Accept it now—Traveler, my memory has been restored. Our sun has been freed. Take it. It mustn’t be trapped in this illusion any longer.”

In a trance-like state, Vanna reached out and let the luminous sphere rest in her hand.

It radiated a soothing warmth, a promise of hope amidst despair.

The giant, his eyes twinkling, let out a hearty laugh. As he did, his enormous form stretched upward, casting a vast shadow on the ground below. He turned his gaze, ancient as the stars, toward the seemingly endless horizon before him.

Still overwhelmed by the revelations, Vanna found her voice. “What do you intend to do?” she asked, her tone a mix of bewilderment and concern as she stood a few steps behind the colossal figure.

“I aim to bring him some comfort,” replied the giant in a soft, almost whisper-like voice.

“But…”

“It’s alright, Traveler,” the giant reassured her, a touch of sadness in his voice. “Every story has its end. We all must face our final moment… especially since Ta Ruijin passed away a long, long time ago.”

Taking a deep, resonant breath, he said, “And before I leave, I want you to keep the staff. Let it be a reminder of our time together.”

The towering deity, a symbol of ancient wisdom and power, did not look back. With a graceful motion, he began his walk toward the vast abyss that lay ahead.

With each ground-shaking step, the giant appeared to grow taller, yet paradoxically, he also became more transparent, as if fading into the very fabric of the universe.

The ancient ruins, known as The Archive, began to tremble and disintegrate with every thunderous step of the giant, eventually succumbing to the relentless march of time.

This godlike figure, the keeper of countless untold stories and histories, eventually merged with the ever-shifting sands. The final chapter of the last recorded individual concluded as two realities slowly and inevitably merged in a cataclysmic event.

Amid the vast wasteland and swirling sands, Vanna, with a heavy heart, looked up.

Above them, the fiery silhouette of Atlantis dominated the skyline.

The countdown to annihilation was nearly complete, and in this critical moment, the civilizations of two worlds—the golden-skinned inhabitants and the elves—met their end.

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