Famine 247: Autumn Leaf

One pair, two pairs…

Countless pairs of densely packed red eyes flickered in the pitch-black night sky.

The Overgod raised its eyeless limbs, and the spreading words scattered across the starry sky. Following the direction of the flow, It saw countless identical crimson eyes.

They were all Its fragments.

Si Zhiyan stood at the very front, clad in a simple black trench coat. Behind him was the High Priestess of the realm of dreams, dressed in elaborate and beautiful holy robes.

The maiden was bound in layer upon layer of red thread, unfolding across the vast, dark universe. Her slender frame trembled in the boundless abyss.

Her jet-black hair danced in the wind, revealing her fair and delicate face, and those expressive eyes she always kept veiled.

Her left eye was crimson, housing her sister Aiko—a twisted, monstrous [Eye of the Overgod]; her right eye was pitch-black, roiling with countless intense colors, within which lingered hundreds and thousands of aggrieved souls from Tianman’s blessed land, spanning many generations.

At this moment, different civilizations all bared identical fangs.

[Overgod…]

When she spoke, the voices of the two girls overlapped as one.

Now, they no longer sobbed or shouted. The girls who once cried their hearts out had died alongside their world in the past.
Their voices were light and gentle, calm, tinged with a faint echo, and dripping with blood.

[Do you know how long we’ve waited for this day?]

Of course the Overgod did not answer.
Its limbs stretched outwards, forming a densely woven net.

Not a single person retreated. No one bowed their head.

Led by Si Zhiyan, countless pairs of murderous red eyes fixed upon their progenitor—the [Maternal Body] in the truest sense.

From a certain perspective, for all of us who have lived to see this day, we are siblings born of the same mother.

They were Chosen. Victors. Leaders of their civilizations. And the culprits who sent all they had into hell.

Some had wept voicelessly through a thousand years of hunger; some expended everything just to preserve a few shattered fragments; some had everything committed to the earth, their once-glorious civilizations buried under the dust of higher beings, forever lost…

Behind them, blood snaked and flowed in endless rivers.

Si Zhiyan swept his hand downward.

No words were needed. The battle erupted!

Fragments of worlds burst forth in an instant. A barrage of attacks—shining, trailing, streaked through the starry sky in precise arcs, as if all the star trails blazed at once.

Sensing the threat, the Overgod’s words rippled outward.

As It unleashed its full might, Si Zhiyan realized those words were but a façade.
Beneath the churning, writhing script, there surged tendrils invisible to the naked eye and filled with murderous intent, like webs, like dew solidified, spanning nearly the entire cosmos in a heartbeat.

Enveloped by enemies on all sides, the Overgod was not at a disadvantage.
Rather than the players besieging It, it was as if It alone surrounded everyone else.

In the boundless stars, with the web of streaks blazing above, tiny Si Zhiyan stood in opposition to the vast, overwhelming Overgod.

Boom, boom, boom, boom—

Avalanches of explosive sounds thundered.

A chorus of hoarse, desperate screams split the air.

[You will not be harmed.]

Law of Imagination!

The High Priestess raised a hand, and the frost of the dreamworld swirled around Si Zhiyan. In a cold, unwavering tone, she repelled the killing force aimed at him.

Blue light flared around the High Priestess; immediately, countless red threads of fate and destiny stretched between the Shrine Maiden’s hands, gripping the vortices throughout deep space. Aunt Zhou’s phone cord twisted tight, the raucous ringing tearing at the tendrils; the Overgod’s tentacles shredded the cable, but the shadow of the [Amusement Park] suddenly descended, trapping It within. The rollercoaster’s lights flashed on behind the Overgod, squarely placing It at the center of the track…

Boom!

The massed phantom of the rollercoaster crashed forward, sundering the gathered tendrils.

The Overgod emitted a shrill, wordless screech.

Beside them, the owner of the meat processing plant had already raised his butcher’s blade high.

For a time, stars fell like rain.

They twisted and lunged, they howled, falling in streams of blood like meteors, ripping through words and tendrils.

One would fall, then another would rise up, and another after that…

Si Zhiyan had gathered fragments from 574 worlds.

Now, standing on this day, there were 575 fragments of the [Overgod].

Behind them stood 575 destroyed worlds.

Broken egg cases.

They had crawled up from the abyss, gathered their remains from out of the ashes, survived amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood; with their final strength, they waited for Si Zhiyan, stacking themselves into the power that now stood at his back.

Behind even that, countless others were gone forever, leaving not even fragments behind, never able to let out a sound again.

Every civilization that could stand here had been fortunate.

Now, each and every one was like a madman.

How could they fear the Overgod?

They had come from dust and thorns, had already…

In this moment, they still had hands that could kill, eyes burning with hate and blood, and the will to do something!

Crack!

No one knew who struck first.

Perhaps it was a palace knight under the High Priestess, or a samurai serving the Shrine Maiden.

He charged, giving his all even at the cost of annihilation, tearing a limb from the Overgod.

Words splattered through the stars, writhing violently for an instant, then vanishing without a trace.

Where there was one, there came a second, and a third… An army of the dead surged forward. Their figures flashed like lightning, so numerous their afterimages blurred together.

Again and again, someone fell—but still, others rose atop their friends’ bodies.
At this point, there was nothing more that could be asked of them.

I have drawn your death countless times, again and again through the ages.

How long had it taken?

Perhaps ten minutes, an hour, ten years…

“Aaaargh—!”

With a hoarse, bloody wraith’s last desperate shriek, the Overgod’s body was finally torn apart.

Broken limbs clashed; at last, all was finished.

The final fragment of the Overgod vanished among the stars.

It was utterly destroyed.

Buzz…

Fragments of text drifted through the air.

Snippets of words, letters, radicals, scattered like the carcasses of insects throughout the starry sky.

All that remained was a warped, black, hole-like shadow.

…

[Ah… ah… ah…]

Aiko trembled in the depths of space, barely able to control her breathing.

The Shrine Maiden manipulated the red threads with one hand, while her other hand gently brushed her sister’s eye—a clumsy comfort, mid-battle.

Aiko said nothing, so the Shrine Maiden asked: [Are you alright?]

Many other specters, panting, inquired,

[The words… they’ve scattered.]

[Is it dead?]
[Is it… our… victory?]

[Eye? What’s wrong?]

Si Zhiyan, breathing heavily, pulled the maiden into his arms, patting her trembling back.

Cool, slender fingers pressed against her spine, lending a steadying strength.

[Sister… brother… sir.]
Aiko called him quietly.

[It’s coming.]

Si Zhiyan patted her back, but never lowered his gaze. His crimson eyes stared up, fixed on the black hole.

His lips moved slightly, and he said,

“It’s alright.”

Boom!

Si Zhiyan yanked the Shrine Maiden back, shielding her in his embrace. An explosion of energy grazed his shoulder, instantly tearing away flesh and bone, leaving muscle raw and exposed.

With a deafening bang, countless fresh words surged forth all at once.

[No…]

[No, no, no, don’t, can’t, absolutely not, impossible, never, not permitted, cannot reproduce, cannot—!!]

A torrent of information exploded in everyone’s minds, a flood of purest psychic force.
The hosts of the world fragments choked and groaned, blood streaming from their seven orifices.

“…Tch.” Closest of all, Si Zhiyan was overwhelmed, abruptly grasping his head.

He could not fight the instinct; tears and blood gushed together from his eyes, drifting in the stars.

Of course. Si Zhiyan sighed inwardly.

—Aiko had said, only by gathering 600 world fragments would there be even a sliver of hope against the Overgod.

Back in the farm’s office, that girl—once the [Eye]—had carefully drawn a line: if we can’t reach this number, our chances are zero. Nothing.

[The Overgod] was never going to be an easy foe.

Aiko trembled, not with the thrill of victory, but because she could not stop herself from shaking.

As the furthest-walking victor, as the [Eye]… she knew,

The true form of the Overgod was about to appear.

—With the golden light torn away and the script shredded after endless battle, every mask and shackle had finally been worn down.

They would soon face the true Overgod itself.

—And with it, an irrevocable hell.

At the center of the black hole, an indescribable, utterly inhuman limb began to slowly emerge, soft and pointed.

[It’s coming…] Aiko shivered in Si Zhiyan’s arms, clutching at her sister’s hand, her own hand, her forehead pressed to his chest, voice trembling, [It’s coming… I knew it… I knew it…]

It really wasn’t enough.

Time was too short.

[We’ll die.] We’ll fail.

Si Zhiyan stroked Aiko’s black hair and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”

He showed no doubt, just calmly said again, “It’s alright.”

[…?]
Aiko looked up, her red eyes bloodshot and confused.

Si Zhiyan lifted a finger; the High Priestess understood at once.

His silver hair swept around the girls, gathering up the Priestess sisters and dragging them from Si Zhiyan’s embrace.

The Shrine Maiden, on reflex, reached out, but was too late; her fingertips brushed past Si Zhiyan’s arm.

She could only watch as Si Zhiyan wiped blood from his face and drew something from his pocket.

In his hand was a Rubik’s Cube.

And behind him, black gemstones tumbled down like a waterfall.

——

Long ago, some idle players had tried to calculate the numbers.

On day 420 before the Overgod War’s outset, the farm’s mine had reached Level 5.

A Lv5 mine produced 6,000 units of each ore per day.
With the [Absolutely Fair Sandwich]’s daily 15% production boost, the farm’s black hole stone yield could reach 6,900 per day.

The farm could clear about three worlds per day.

Given that each world’s Harmony required 500 black hole crystals, they’d only use up 1,500 black hole crystals per day. Even accounting for extra losses, never more than 2,500 crystals daily.

When the countdown reached day 366, the Overgod War officially began. The open selection lasted another 30 days.
For 84 days in all, the farm’s facilities ran at full tilt.

So then—

By the time of the Overgod’s arrival, there would be at least 444,600 extra [Spinning Black Hole Crystals].

Where did all of them go?

Clatter, clatter…

A great multitude of gemstones, so many as to feel endless, rushed out behind Si Zhiyan.

This was Alice’s magic. Si Zhiyan had her craft him a custom spatial storage pouch, packed full of these little gems.

During his recent days in the basement, Si Zhiyan’s central research was to use [black hole crystals] to forge a unified space.

The Rubik’s Cube, made of black hole crystals—the starry arena—was just an experiment.

As for the remaining hundreds of thousands of crystals, together they could form a gigantic, unprecedented subspace beyond imagination.

[…] The Shrine Maiden suddenly realized.

[Brother!]

She began to struggle, stretching out her hand with all her might, a torrent of red threads surging toward Si Zhiyan. The High Priestess held her shoulders tight, turning the comforting embrace into restraint.

Limbs locked, energy swirling. Si Zhiyan’s most reliable ally would eradicate any hint of hesitation for him. The High Priestess bowed his head, eyes squeezed shut, holy robes swirling as he retreated with the exhausted Priestess sisters.

They vanished in a blink into the space behind.

As the head of the world of dreams, the High Priestess possessed power no ordinary person could conceive. At Si Zhiyan’s direction, he reserved his final energy to create a temporary sanctuary, to shelter everyone from the chaos.

Si Zhiyan stood with his hands in his pockets, watching them go.

The hem of his coat billowed though no wind blew, and he stood amidst the tide of black hole gems, wearing a knowing, tranquil smile.

On his palm he held a deep blue gem. He turned it gently in the light to observe the somber waves, surging and unceasing, within.

[The Collapse of Buzhou Mountain].

In the endless starry sky, Si Zhiyan turned to the Overgod, softly touching the pocket over his left chest.

Inside was a golden, warm, brilliant autumn leaf.

A gift from Bian Xu, given on his first day at the Amusement Park.

Please give me strength, he prayed silently.

Grant me the courage to face all famine, all pain, all sacrifice and all death, so that I may do all I ought to, with every ounce of my love.

To create for you a future without hunger or suffering, in which you may live—happily, wholly, freely, as you wish.