Who am I? Klein, who had just been maintaining the image of the historical gap, was momentarily stunned by Amun's question. He composed himself, keeping his brow from slightly furrowing, and instead asked, "Are you not Amun's true form?" Amun, standing at the edge of the 'cliff,' took a step forward and smiled, "Of course not. Do you know my true form, or one of my manifestations?" Though Amun did not reach out, this single step still exerted an undeniable pressure on Klein, who barely managed not to react with a sudden retreat, revealing his underlying hesitation. He nodded softly, responding in a low tone, "So I find it strange that you don't recognize me at all." "Are you well known?" the Amun who had emerged from the void and darkness quipped with a smile, then raised a hand to adjust the crystal single-lens glasses resting on his right eye. This action lingered for several seconds before finally concluding, as Amun seemed to ponder, murmuring, "There's no other me nearby—truly none, or have our connections completely severed?" What unexpected event caused this Amun to emerge independently? No, he couldn't trust any of this Amun's actions—He was, after all, a master manipulator. Klein's mind stirred momentarily, then suppressed the thought, and instead asked, "Why did you emerge from beneath the earth?" Amun's expression returned to normal, and he chuckled, "You guess." Whether the original or a duplicate, the tendency toward ill temper remained unchanged. Klein muttered this under his breath, then cautiously replied, "You're exploring the secrets beneath the earth." Amun nodded lightly, "Isn't that obvious?" He promptly half-turned his body, pointing toward the darkness beyond the reach of light at the "cliff's" front: "My father came out of here exactly as I just described." "Ah, yes—he has a name, one you should have heard of: the 'Chaos Sea.'" "The Chaos Sea?" One of the Nine Primordial Substances—the 'Chaos Sea'—it truly lies deep beneath the earth... Is the pollution behind the bronze gate indeed caused by it? I had previously built up my understanding of this esoteric knowledge through casual conversations with Amun. The ancient sun god was originally a member of this research institute, only to have fallen into the depths of the 'Chaos Sea' during the collapse, awakening and emerging only in the Second Age. Since he was merely an ordinary person, according to the principle that higher sequence beings face greater danger as they approach the earth's core, he actually suffered only moderate effects? Klein's thoughts raced swiftly, recalling one detail after another, forming one hypothesis after another. A few seconds later, he added, "So you took the risk and dove in to seek out the buried history and the truth of the world?" "More or less," the man named Amun said, gently pressing the top and bottom edges of his single-frame glasses, his tone slightly self-deprecating. "But I wasn't entirely willing." "Ah?" Kline expressed his confusion with a simple phrase. Amun smiled. "I knew deep underground was dangerous, and I always wanted to avoid going down. We tried numerous indirect methods—such as having secret duplicates take my place—but none succeeded, and we never received any feedback. "In the end, under the auspices of the main body, we held a fair vote, and unfortunately, I was chosen." ...It was a miracle that Amun hadn't completely gone mad by now... Indeed, the very embodiment of the 'God of Practical Jokes,' making decisions so delightfully absurd... Kline restrained himself from offering a comment. "Then you simply went down yourself?" "Can we really just wait to be thrown down by them?" Amun spread his hands. Then, as if finally grasping something, he murmured softly, "The Primordial Sea has severed my connection to my true form and to the surrounding duplicates, hasn't it? 'I've become independent?' Independence... When I stood before the bronze gate of the Hall of Honesty, I felt every cell, every 'spirit worm,' beginning to develop its own consciousness—distinct from the original self. It's entirely natural that Amun's duplicate, having plunged directly into the Primordial Sea, would undergo such transformations. A truly independent Amun duplicate should be able to effectively undermine the original Amun. No—this cannot be trusted. Klein had just, through his own experiences, preliminarily verified Amun's words, yet suddenly reminded himself firmly not to believe the God of Deception. He smiled and said, "I suspect you're deceiving me." Amon adjusted his single-piece glasses made of crystal, studying Caine for several seconds. "Whether or not you believe in me makes no difference. Even if I were to seek a partner, I wouldn't choose someone as insignificant as you." During the time of the Eight Archangels, weren't you particularly close to the 'Red Angel' Medici? Caine, having firmly decided that the current Amon was not yet independent, tried to ask: "What did you discover within the 'Chaos Sea'?" "Many things—guess what they are," Amon replied with a smile. "Nothing at all," Caine deliberately said. Amon shook his head. "I must have thought the same thing myself. And since I haven't come out for so long, with no response, it was entirely reasonable to believe that I had already been corroded and absorbed by the 'Chaos Sea.'" "Before Kline could respond, Amun spoke on his own: "The 'Chaos Sea' is immense, nearly filling the core of the world and submerging the layer above it. It is the only 'Primordial Substance' that is equally real and fantastical, with a direct entrance into the real world. The others are either entirely imaginary, hidden somewhere unknown, or absolutely real, coexisting side by side with reality. Amon adjusted the position of his crystal monocles and said, "The second 'Defiled Tablet' has revised some sequence names and includes additional content. 'These contents hold secrets beyond the sequences.' 'Beyond the sequences?' Kline's pupils slightly widened, as if his long-held conjecture was finally being confirmed. 'To become a Creator?' Amon smiled and replied, 'Almost, but this description isn't quite accurate. I prefer to call that level 'Beyond the Sequences.' Some true gods have named it differently—some refer to it as the 'Old Ones,' others as the 'Outer Gods,' and others use 'the Stars' to denote it.' 'The Stars'... As soon as Kline heard this term, his spiritual intuition began to issue urgent warnings. He remembered clearly that the head of the Night's Church, Alaina, had told him: 'Do not attempt to understand the Stars until you reach the level of Angels; otherwise, merely gaining understanding itself would pose a great danger!' Without hesitation, Kline, who had been hidden within the fissures of pre-First Age history, abandoned his maintenance of the projection and stepped forward, rising upon the layered ancient cities and taking four inverse steps. At the same time, the violent lightning streaking across the heavens of the God-Abandoned Lands ceased, and the endless darkness vanished. A massive red moon filled half the sky. The light on the surface of the red moon pulsed and expanded, as though it had come to life. Beyond this world, on the moon orbiting the Earth, a vast expanse of crimson sea flowed, engulfing everything, as if absorbing and digesting this great natural satellite. When Kline learned of the information concerning the "Ancient Days," the "Outer Gods," and the "Stellar Sky," the crimson sea surged and boiled. It swiftly coalesced toward the center, piled up continuously, and eventually formed a formless, entirely blood-red silhouette, its specific shape indistinct. This ethereal form was vastly larger than the moon, endowed with countless eyes, gazing down upon the blue planet, its gaze fixed upon the now-fully-connected core of Klein! As the crimson seas receded, numerous craters revealed themselves on the lunar surface. From the ground, the moon no longer appeared rosy, but bright and cold, unchanged for millions of years. Far beyond, brown stars, orange stars, red stars, yellow stars, and blue stars blinked in unison, as though they had gently blinked. Within the veil of history, bubbles began to rise across Klein's surface—each bubble housing a mutated "spirit insect," each one bearing the faces of Zhou Mingrui, Klein Moretti, Germán Spáro, and Daven Tanthès, striving to break free. Klein's thoughts raced into chaos, as if his entire spirit were being sliced by an invisible blade; yet he still managed to complete the final incantation: "Fu Sheng Xuan Huang Tian Zun!" In silence and stillness, Caine's spirit passed through the gray mist and entered the "Source Citadel," where the spatial forces spontaneously boiled, surging to envelop him, dissolving strands of black vapor, beams of red light, and bubbles, severing the invisible connections. After nearly ten seconds of struggling and rolling, Caine finally regained consciousness and rose to his feet, steadying himself against the high-back chair. Standing at the edge of the "Cliff" within Chernobyl, Amun pushed his right eyeglass, a single crystal lens, and murmured softly, "Quite responsive indeed..." If Caine had been even a second slower, deep in that state of disarray, and had failed to maintain the image of the historical rift, Amun could have forged a link between the projection and his physical form, thereby appearing directly within the corresponding historical fragment.