Destroy us!

Everyone felt fear because of this one sentence.

They never imagined that this ancient, seemingly friendly being who knew everything would utter such horrifying words.

To annihilate human society of this era, in a tone as if eradicating a cluster of annoying insects by the roadside.

Only now did they realize they might have been too presumptuous, overestimating the other's kindness.

To say its purpose is to destroy the remnants of an ancient apocalypse cycle and save them was nothing more than ending a longstanding grudge with an old enemy.

It wasn't doing something intentionally for humans, nor was it aiming to be their Guardian God.

Their world was, from the beginning, just a clump of new ant nests sprouting amidst roadside weeds in its eyes.

There were once old acquaintances, but just old acquaintances at best.

If displeased and destroyed, a new anthill would quickly appear; it was of no importance.

Civilizations and races, they are numerous as weeds.

Upon further reflection, they had just received the shock that "the world is fake, their lives are fake," leading to a collapse of worldview, and they reacted too intensely.

Clinging to the original race?

Seeking the original self?

Without knowing what race they originally were, how could they yearn for it?

In essence, they simply don't want to accept the forcibly imposed racial identity, the entanglements with otherworldly causes and effects, face possible civilization adversaries, or confront this terrifying ancient Monarch as a foe for vengeance.

This situation can be aptly compared to this:

Bionic Being parents strive with all their might to raise an adopted child, but the child, upon inheriting the parents' estate, sees a terrifying vendetta against their father.

Immediately, the child says at the tombstone:

"This enemy is too strong, and if I can't avenge my father's death, how can I face being your son! Better to sever the father-son ties, and avenge in the next life."

Escaping with the funds, claiming to seek their true self and biological parents for real identity.

What a foolish response.

Now many instantly realized.

In Nokron's eyes, the ancient adversaries they admired—'Dream Garment' Hekris—actually found such absurdly greedy, despicably deceitful descendants, no wonder they sought to destroy them.

If it were them, they would do the same.

Upon understanding these concepts, the entire social media, all remaining survivors, shouted at electronic screens.

"No!"

"Please spare me!"

"Angelle spoke recklessly, he doesn't represent us!"

"Since we are human, we naturally must bear the duty of being human! Inherit the mission!"

"We don't remember what our original race was, now being such a powerful race, how could we not want it?"

Countless people shouted, hoping the other side could hear.

This ancient Divine Spirit was exceedingly powerful and pure, striking everything with the most direct force.

The Dream Garment God who created this land was clearly warping time in an unusual way, using the deepest, most realistic dream to interfere with reality, evidently a tremendously powerful existence!

Yet this flashy existence still couldn't withstand the opponent's Fist.

"Ridiculous."

Nokron shook his head.

Suddenly punched toward the distant moon.

BOOM!

The Crystal Wall abruptly shattered with a breach.

Amid wails and screams, a giant Alien Race encircling the moon's halo suddenly shattered.

"No! Listen to me—" that figure shouted.

The punch's force swept through.

Turning into nothingness.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, the old should not linger in the past."

He withdrew his Fist, eyes calm:

"The two of you have long passed, old friends, why fight endlessly, clinging without end? Wanting to scheme against the era, better take my Fist first."

The presence on the moon vanished instantly, not even able to utter pleas or cries.

It chilled the survivors on the entire ground to witness!

What schemes, plots between adversaries fighting for thousands or tens of thousands of years, not even listening to what you want to say, take my Fist first.

Simple.

Brutal.

Flashy, schemes, all ate my Fist first.

Nokron suddenly looked up to the sky, "Old enemies, you and I entwined for years, only you and I flourished throughout history... are you there? This cycle should also be broken."

He continued to swing another punch.

"Wait!" A mysterious shadow draped in butterfly attire quickly burst, turned to naught, terrifying energy rapidly unleashed, sweeping across the entire ground.

Boom!

Still couldn't escape this punch.

Elsewhere.

Wadon and others were already in despair, eyes filled with horror.

"Next punch, it's our turn!"

"Restart quickly!"

"Restarting is useless, the Time Machine might already..."

"That energy is exploding, maybe it can still be used one last time, regardless of usefulness, this is our last resort!!"

"'Dream Garment' Hekris! We pray to you! We are willing to continue your civilization, become those you loved, please give us another cycle!"

...

The survivors quickly entered the basement.

Li Qing silently watched them for a moment, did not stop, only paused momentarily.

He suddenly sensed something as all the light faded, the Giant stepped out one step at a time, holding in his arms the remaining soul of the Dream Garment God falling from the sky, who had already closed its eyes, gradually turning to nothingness.

People finally saw the true face of 'Dream Garment' Hekris.

That face was none other than the mechanical princess, Sylvie.

The man said, "Since you still want to give them a chance, then as you wish, I won't stop this last time to fulfill your final wish."

Whoosh—

The next moment, time froze, and the world paused.

The entire world turned into a frozen animation.

The people's shouts, roars, despair, cries, all were paused.

Simultaneously, flesh and blood vessels surged in from beyond the Crystal Wall, various mysterious mechanical beings began rebooting the entire ground.

Those already dead were resurrected.

Everything returned to eight years ago.

History was rewritten, returned, rewritten, all humanity went back to six hours before the Apocalypse.

"That is, that is!!"

Wadon and others were stunned into silence.

The reversal of the cyclical truth as they saw the true face of 'Dream Garment' Hekris, everyone fell silent.

Indeed.

A dream, how could the dreamer not be within?

Because what was dreamed, was originally the lantern of the dreamer's past life, their most profound experiences of life.

Just couldn't imagine, the mastermind, the dreamer was the mechanical princess Sylvie, and in the distant future after the Apocalypse, she would be so powerful.

This was her obsession turned reincarnation.

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