WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH—RUMBLE!!
As the Chief Author of Fate rose from his throne behind the ten-thousand-foot Jade Writing Desk, the nine rivers of destiny ink across Floor Nine surged into the sky. Weaving a colossal, continent-spanning black-and-red projection curtain that covered the heavens of every single star field from the lower worlds to the Supreme Origin Heaven!
Within that blood-soaked projection curtain flashed ten billion years of orchestrated cosmic history—an endless, suffocating montage of burning sects, betrayed brothers, slaughtered clans, and lonely orphans screaming at the rain.
“FOOLISH MORTAL FATHER! IGNORANT LIVESTOCK OF THE THREE THOUSAND WORLDS!”
The Chief Author’s voice boomed across creation like ten thousand iron bells hammered at once, dripping with cold, self-righteous cynicism as he pointed his ink-woven finger at the bloody montage in the sky:
“Do you really think I wrote dead parents on Page Three and clan massacres on Page Ten just for my own amusement?! Do you think I invented Luck-Plundering Halos, Slaughter Systems, and Darkened Villains because I didn’t know how to write a peaceful village?!”
The Chief Author slammed his palm against the black projection curtain, causing a billion illusory stars in the diagram to dim into cold gray cinders!
“LOOK AT THE FUNDAMENTAL LAW OF THERMODYNAMICS OF THIS UNIVERSE!” the Chief Author thundered, attempting to crush the morale of every living being in creation with his billion-year justification.
