The crystal steps leading into the Root Heavenly Dao Kernel vibrated under Lin Mo’s boots.
Golden mist drifted across the deep void at the center of creation. Around them, massive rings of ancient stone revolved slowly, suspended in zero gravity. Each ring was carved with millions of microscopic runes that governed the birth and death of suns.
Lin Mo adjusted his sleeves, his Rank 10 Supreme Benevolence aura settling into a calm, steady rhythm.
Right behind him, Tang Xiaomi hauled two floating metal monitor cases, her sneakers squeaking against the polished crystal floor. Elder Mo, known across the star-realms as Professor Galileo-X, adjusted his brass-rimmed mechanical goggles. Beside him walked Star-Weaver Mu Lan, her fingers trailing threads of starlight, and Old Master Taichu, whose white beard floated gently in the cosmic breeze.
“Listen to that hum,” Lin Mo said, tilting his head. “It sounds like the rusted office refrigerator in my old drafting firm. The compressor was always on the verge of blowing up.”
Ten million years of cosmic uptime and not a single maintenance cycle. Even my old landlord in Jiangcheng took better care of the boiler.
Tang Xiaomi snorted as she set down her equipment.
“Boss, that refrigerator probably had cleaner wiring than this place,” she said. “The Heavenly Dao has been running on bad patches for ten million years. Nobody ever cleaned the cache.”
