ZING—WHOOOOOOOOOOSH!
Twin streaks of blinding, malevolent dark-gold light—[Golden Fate-Quill #6 (The Quill of Grimdark Tragedy)]. Gilded Fate-Quill #7, The Quill of Apocalyptic Doom,]—rocketed straight up from the roofless floor of the Central Abyssal. Editorial Citadel, aiming for the jagged dimensional rift opening in the cosmic ceiling above the 1,000th Central Galaxy!
From inside the dark-gold dimensional rift, a cold, ancient suction force belonging to the Upper Immortal Editorial Realm, The Heavenly Script Pavilion. Reached down like an invisible hand to retrieve the last two unshattered instruments of grimdark fate before Gu Changsheng could destroy them!
“Daddy, look out! Those last two ugly pens are trying to run away through the ceiling!” thirteen-year-old Su Nuannuan called out, pointing up at the twin streaks of dark-gold light!
“They want to flee back to their master in the Upper Heaven. Trying to orphan our star cluster?” seventeen-year-old Ye Xiao’s eyes flashed behind his gold-rimmed spectacles as his [Galactic Abacus] spun at maximum speed. “Dad, they’re twenty feet from the rift threshold!”
“In my kitchen,” thirty-six-year-old Gu Changsheng chuckled calmly. His figure vanishing from the wooden bow of the [Galactic Flying Courtyard] in a golden blur that outsped fifth-dimensional time itself, “nothing leaves the table until the dishes are done!”
