Endless Debt

"Is that really how it is?"

Bologue slowly raised his hand, and along with the release of Ether, intricate Ether patterns illuminated on his skin.

"Energy is conserved," Bologue said, "whatever you gain, you must lose something in return."

"Through the Alchemy Matrix, we consume Ether to obtain the Miracle Power that distorts reality."

Hill gazed at the pitch-black Dome, he sighed, "Isn’t this a kind of transaction?"

Suddenly, Bologue found his breathing somewhat difficult, not due to excessive fear, but a heartfelt joy.

It was an ecstasy Bologue had never felt before, along with a sense of awe touched by the grand narrative.

Bologue said softly, "The Alchemy Matrix is like a Blood Contract; all humans implanted with the Alchemy Matrix are its Debtors. As long as Ether is consumed, they can make wishes to it, thus gaining the power to warp reality."

What a magnificent design.

The palace of memory began to collapse, cracks spread all over the bricks, and blazing white flames gushed from the fissures. The frontal wall collapsed with a roar, revealing the blinding daylight. Bologue turned his head to see the silhouette of a human forged from pure Light within the Daylight Core.

"You are the eighth Devil."

Bologue spoke softly to the radiant figure, "You do not bear the Original Sin but chose virtue, sacrificing for all humanity."

Hill was both surprised and delighted; at this moment, time and space seemed truly interconnected. He continued Bologue’s words.

"You made a transaction with all humanity, granting humans the power to fight against Devils. The price is that after death, the Condensers’ souls return to the Secret Source... to continue fighting the Devils."

Hill stood up, staggeringly walking toward the endless light source, excitedly spreading his arms and loudly questioning.

"Tell me, O Exalted One, tell me, what should I do!"

A vague, indistinct sound came from the Secret Source, resembling dreamlike speech, difficult to discern.

The eighth person sacrificed himself, transforming into an Extraordinary server serving all humanity, processing the reality-warping "wishes" from the Condensers every minute and every second.

An infinite flow of information rushed through like a flood; through countless efforts over the centuries, the eighth person had long lost self-awareness, only the "momentum of sacrifice" remained, maintaining the operation of the Secret Source.

No one knew how much effort the eighth person had exerted to carve out such a moment of leisure amidst this vast, heavy thought, allowing him to make a difficult active decision instead of passively processing the information flow.

Bologue heard as if the Secret Source said something to Hill, then a strong light illuminated everything, the dim chamber completely collapsed, like being swallowed by a storm, bricks disappeared one by one, leaving behind only the storm within reach and the vast Icefield.

After a long trance, Bologue finally came to his senses, realizing he had left Hill’s memory. It was at this moment he discovered his own Alchemy Matrix had undergone a round of wild growth, almost covering every part of his body.

Bologue watched the storm gradually distance itself from him, knowing he had gained the Secret Source’s recognition. The ceaseless server accepted Bologue’s promotion application, allocating more computing power to him to help him "fulfill wishes," obtaining greater reality distortion authority.

"Defender..."

Bologue murmured, once more drawing the Sword Axe from his waist.

Turning around, shadows approached again with the retreat of the storm, the Throat of the Abyss ripped open the Curved Pathway Rift, roaring thunderously toward him.