The Creation of Non-Offensive

High above in the sky, the Heavenly Pillar rebuilt itself only to collapse again, over and over. The town upon the earth cycled between destruction and peace, the figures upon the streets alternating between whole and shattered. Survival and ruin replayed without end, until in the end, even time and the past itself turned entirely illusory. Ji Jue walked through these remnant records, looking around at those shattered fragments of bygone days, an unreachable golden millet dream. Seemingly within arm's reach, yet untouchable. All one sought in a lifetime, reduced only to nothingness. Compared to the ruins of the past, which of these scenes was truly crueler to Quicksilver? Amid the tolling bells of the sanctuary, his footsteps halted in the square; he didn't want to look anymore. He felt that perhaps he already knew where Non-Offensive was. The bells boomed, echoing out. From within that towering clock tower... Ji Jue looked up in silence, gazing transfixed at the clock face upon the tower, and at that mottled, time-worn window behind the hands. Quicksilver's old workshop. In the long years four hundred years ago, she had stood right there, gazing out day after day, waiting and singing softly in solitude. What kind of scene had she longed for? Smiling guests dressed in finery arrived from all directions, flower petals rained down, white doves spread their wings and soared, and the laughing bride and groom walked arm in arm to the tempo of the bells toward the hall that would bear witness to their wedding. Longing to begin a brand-new life from then on. Yet innocently and unknowingly, walking toward their predetermined death. Once, and once again. As the "culprit," had Quicksilver felt her heart pierced like a knife while gazing upon such a scene? In a momentary daze, he suddenly recalled the words from Juzi in the memories. In the old workshop, that weary man had gazed at his most cherished companion and asked one final question: "Do you regret it?" Yet there would never be an answer again, nor did anyone possess the courage to give that response. "Time is short, Ji Jue," the Prophet asked. "What are you waiting for?" "I don't know." Ji Jue shook his head, staring at the world before him that continually collapsed, was destroyed, and restored itself, yet his gaze fell upon the steps of the sanctuary. Amid the marching host of flickering phantoms was a lonely, tiny figure. A flaw repeated in countless time loops. A little girl hugging her knees sat on the steps, staring blankly up at the sky, still waiting for that person who could never return to come back from afar. Weeping silently. "What are you doing here?" Ji Jue bent down and sat beside her, studying her profile. He told her, "Don't run around. Grandma is waiting for you to go home." She said nothing. She only lowered her head and raised a hand to wipe away her tears. After a long pause, the girl asked softly, "Mama isn't coming back, is she?" Ji Jue fell silent, unconsciously lifting his head to look at the sky she had been staring at. Four hundred years ago, four hundred years later; Mid-Continent and the Northern Continent; the small town and Yacheng—the skies seemed no different at all, just as empty and desolate. "I don't know," Ji Jue sighed softly and answered honestly. "She must really want to come back. Just as you miss her, she misses you too. Always thinking of you, on and on... but she can't find her way home. She's lost." "How do you know?" The little girl glared at him, yet couldn't hold back her tears, choking up. "Mama doesn't want me anymore! She's probably forgotten all about me..." "Of course I know," Ji Jue answered with certainty, telling her, "All good mothers are the same. I dream of her every single night. Because when she's thinking of me, I'm thinking of her too. And when you cry, she'll only be sadder." He reached out, pointing toward the girl's cheek. The tears passed right through his fingertip, leaving only faint ripples, untouchable. Seemingly within arm's reach, yet worlds apart. Until her tears gradually ceased. The girl persistently raised her hand, wiping them away again and again. Finally, her red eyes looked at him. "Will I ever see her again?" "I don't know." Ji Jue slowly shook his head. Facing those eyes so like his own, he could not lie, nor could he deceive himself. "Maybe never again." He looked back and asked, "Will you still miss her?" "Mm." In the silence, the crestfallen girl nodded. Ji Jue smiled. "What a good girl." He rose slowly, then heard her voice behind him. "What about you?" The girl looked at him. "Will you miss her too?" "Of course," Ji Jue nodded, answering without hesitation. "Just like you." Amid the blurry crowd, that tiny silhouette seemed to smile as well. Just like that, she waved to him, and gradually faded away. Leaving only Ji Jue standing in the empty square. He took one final glance back, then walked against the tolling bells toward the towering clock tower and pushed open that dust-sealed door. There were no blockers, nor were there the anticipated obstacles. Only falling dust, a winding flight of stairs leading upward, and an ajar door. It seemed as though everything still remained just as it had been four hundred years ago. Everything in the old workshop was bathed quietly in sunlight, bearing witness to the cycle of ruin and reconstruction. Yet in front of the window, that figure who seemed to stand there for eternity was gone. Quicksilver was not here. Within the entire Border Realm, whether beneath the ground or above, past or present, out of all the roles, the only one missing was Quicksilver. Yet at this moment, when Ji Jue stood in that position once more, what he saw was the exact same scenery she had once beheld. The rebirth and destruction of all things, the sanctuary collapsing and rebuilding, the samsara woven from survival and death. Under the reflection of the collapsing Heavenly Pillar, everything was already foreordained. The world was a battlefield for the Sovereign Virtues; history was a tapestry woven from the past. The life and death of mortals were not worth mentioning, and no one cared for the joys and sorrows of dust-motes. All would ultimately return to nothingness. Perhaps this was Heaven's Mandate. If any of this could be redeemed once more, even just a tiny bit, even if what was regained was merely an insignificant fraction compared to what had been lost... Ji Jue reached out his hand toward the world before him. Just as Quicksilver once had. "If the circumstances of past and present were to replay..." Ji Jue solemnly asked, "Would you still respond to the same wish, Non-Offensive?" In that instant, what flared was the gleam surfacing from his wristwatch. Like a silent summons, after four hundred years, the power once left behind by Juzi resurfaced within the Border Realm, casting its radiance once more toward the unreachable past. And so, within those bygone days, unprecedented violent turbulence erupted. Just like thunder across four hundred years. Resounding through everything! Bringing the ceaselessly cycling time to a screeching halt! Sky, earth, void—boundless spiritus circuits manifested, shrouding everything, extending across all. Like intricate threads from a loom, they interwove with one another, outlining the contours of the mortal world and giving rise to all things under heaven. Survival, death, conflict, peace, order, chaos, stars, earth, mountains, oceans... All-encompassing, spanning every phenomenon. Yet at that instant, Ji Jue's perspective seemed to detach from his physical body, rising upward toward the sky, toward the heights beyond the firmament, as if ascending above all phenomena and Heaven's Mandate itself. And so, at the far end of that intricate tapestry woven from countless threads, he finally saw the origin and terminus of all things—the invisible hand that governed all phenomena! And now, that invisible hand had clamped onto his arms. Like a branding iron, it brought an unprecedented agony and burning, forcing a cry from Ji Jue's lips. At that instant, endless Sovereign Virtue transformations manifested before his eyes, and an unprecedented spiritus transmutation erupted from within his soul. A deep voice seemed to ring in his ears, turning into world-shaking thunder and heavenly decree, carved deeply into his soul, brooking no deviation or wavering. Telling him: "The prosperity of all things is wrought by this hand." "All that exists in this world is formed by these ten fingers." "Exorcise the roots of calamity; eradicate the seeds of oppression and devastation, so that this world may be peaceful and tranquil, free from the scourge of cruel strife—" "—This is the Creation of Non-Offensive!" BOOM!!! Amid the hallucinatory thunderclap that seemed to forge heaven and earth anew, the bygone days shook violently, no longer able to sustain themselves. Boundless spiritus circuits spread from the void, wrapping around Ji Jue's body, soul, and arms, burning like brands, carving the unavoidable iron law deep into his bones and soul. Making blazing light burst from Ji Jue's eyes! When all the visions vanished like smoke and the distant dream formed by bygone days gradually dispersed, Ji Jue finally awoke from the endless pain and torment. Stumbling, he walked down the clock tower. Just like that, smiling, he spread his arms to the companions who had waited so long, displaying the intricate totems stretching from the tips of his ten fingers all the way past his elbows. Like leaping flames, like the crisscrossing warp and weft, like encompassing all of creation. "This is [Matrix: Non-Offensive]!" Boom! Boom! Boom! Continuous rolling roars came from afar, yet they did not stem solely from within the dream; far more, they came from outside these bygone days. Everything was shaking violently. The core was changing. That inexplicable tremor and weightlessness even made Ji Jue feel as though the core were rising from underground, heading upward... Then, in the next instant, they were ejected from the dispersing bygone days. Returning to reality. Yet the deep shaft they had previously entered was gone, replaced by a massive hall fracturing rapidly, along with severe vertigo and weightlessness. Ji Jue pressed his hand against the floor, repeating his previous trick, and felt the massive rhythm welling from the workshop. Just like a volcanic eruption. The furnace operated violently, and spiritus surged, merging into the workshop and causing the core to expand and grow at a speed visible to the naked eye—even turning back to devour the outer Border Realm. The core was rising! The earth fractured and caved in; countless buildings turned to rubble, while the creations dwelling within plunged down into the collapse, buried deep below... Everything seemed to be hurtling toward rapid destruction in the world-shaking upheaval. Yet this was not the end, but the beginning of another cruel cycle... "The reboot is about to begin," the Prophet sighed softly. And then, Ji Jue heard a whistling howl from afar. A sharp, crimson arrow came to an abrupt halt mid-air, caught in Xiao An's hand. Gripped by the youth, it could not advance a fraction of an inch further. The long-silent youth looked back, a sharp gleam surfacing in his eyes. Right at the end of the grand hall stood a bedraggled group of figures. At their head, a furious face bordering on madness glared at the group returning loaded with spoils, his pupils gradually turning blood-red. "Ji Jue—!" Lou Feng roared.