This space is a finished world. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

Pitch black with points of light.

In the center of the wide, spherical room with the night sky blackened, a wooden chair floats.

Although the shape alone is luxurious, the faded appearance of the wood has a charm that does not make people feel disgusted with the sense of luxury. On the contrary, just by being here, the atmosphere around it becomes more solemn.

At first glance, it looks like a seat for a prince and noble. But if this is the case, the chair should not exude such a strong sense of presence, so strong that even if a head of state sits on this chair, it will be considered an accessory of the chair, not the owner of the chair. If an ordinary person sits on this chair, I am afraid that they will be swallowed up by the sense of presence emanating from the chair in an instant.

It's a chair that makes people think so.

This space is dedicated to the celebration of this chair.

The present state of affairs makes it compelling to accept such an assessment even if it is heard, but-

The man who was wrapped in a solemn atmosphere that surpassed the chair was making the back of the chair creak loudly.

"Hmm......"

If this room is a miniature of the universe, then the man sitting on a chair in the center of the room is wrapped in an atmosphere that can be said to be commensurate with the identity of the owner.

This is an elder, the appearance age is about 50 to 60 years old, although the beard is white, the waist is straight, the strong body is more oppressive than the middle-aged people in the prime of life, the forehead, eyebrows, and wrinkles at the corners of the eyes add a touch of vicissitudes accumulated over a long period of time to the old man, but there is no twilight that the elderly should have.

The most impressive thing is the old man's eyes, no matter the color of the pupils, there are no special characteristics, just deep, deep, just like the starry sky around the old man, there is no end in sight, as if these eyes contain countless mysteries.

The old man's name was Keshua Zerrich Hubeinaugu.

In the secular world, the reputation is not obvious, but in the mysterious world, everyone knows and everyone knows.

The name itself represents a legend, and the world either admires, fears, or for various purposes, and has given him various names, the second magician, the highest magician, the demon marshal, the jewel man, the fourth seat of the twenty-seven ancestors of the Dead Apostles, he is a man who truly stands at the top of the mysterious side.

"This axis is wrong......

The old man slid his right fingers in the air, causing the celestial bodies reflected in the surrounding walls to rotate.

"Is this polarized light also completely extinguished?"

"Oh, that's pretty good cut......"

Then, the pages of the book floating in front of the old man's eyes flipped up in accordance with his movements, recording all kinds of "information" in real time.

The title page of the book is painted with strange ornamentation, as if it were countless concentric circles layered on top of each other, and dense lines radiating outward from the center of the circle.

Some of these lines extend to the outermost circle and continue to diverge outward, while others stop at one of the layers.

The thickness of a book is about the same as that of an ordinary encyclopedic dictionary.

It's so huge, but every time the old man slides his finger, thousands, tens of thousands of pages will be created and disappear.

The old man continued this work for some time, and seemed to have found something, and the old man's fingers smacked.

"Huh? It's—"

The rapidly turning pages stopped, and the expression that had been only slightly fluctuating finally changed significantly.

On the open page, there is a boy who seems to be of mixed Eastern and Western descent.

The cloak that covered the body, short curly dark blue hair, and dark blue eyes formed the most obvious features of the boy.

In the margins of the pages there is a red marker - Project I Subject, number 13.

The old man stared silently at the boy on the page, motionless, and the entire spherical space seemed to come to a standstill.

I don't know how long it has been, maybe minutes, maybe hours, in this spherical space, there is no way to know the passage of time.

The old man exhaled slowly, and the stagnant space finally resumed its operation.

"Finally, one of the test subjects has made some achievements, Project I, only three of the thirteen test subjects can still be observed, and the rest either died unexpectedly or lost their future because of quantum fixation. ”

"The soul that the young man who claimed to be from Semulia sent was a soul that wasn't in my plans...... Is this the variable he found to change that future?"

"Number 13, let me see how far you can go, but until then-"

The old man looked away from the pages and moved to his left hand.

He wears a ring on the thumb of his left hand, and the gemstone that serves as the face of the ring contains powerful magic.

With a burst of magical radiance, a low, magnetic female voice came from the ring.

"I think it's almost time for you to contact me, Zelridge. ”

"You're still so sharp, Queen Skaha. ”

The old man's face showed a smile that he had not seen for a long time, and the laughter passed through the gemstone ring, transcending the barriers of time and space.

"Then you should know my purpose in contacting you. ”

"About the creation of the third magic, the 'Cup of Heaven', or about one of my new disciples?"

"Both, the third magic, and that kid is an attempt. ”

The old man's voice revealed an inexplicable sonorous and desolate, that feeling can only be understood by Skaha, who has mastered the cause and effect of the world and has also lived for a long time, she didn't say anything more, and went straight to the point.

"The 'Cup of Heaven' is indeed the same as your second magic, a power that can affect the world. But the 'Cup of Heaven' is not enough, it is only power, and if you don't have a magician like you to exercise it, it will be a matter of time before you get dyed in other colors. If this continues, the power of miracles will one day disappear. ”

"You're right, that's why you need to be purified. ”

Hearing the old man's answer, Skaha let out a soft "oh".

"Looks like you've got some sort of key. ”

"Yes. The old man nodded calmly, "However, I can't directly intervene in this matter, if I interfere too much, the world is likely to be completely determined, so I need to choose a suitable executor." ”

"You don't have to choose, he can do it. ”

The old man knew very well that he was referring to the figure on the page spread out in front of him.

"Are you sure he can? It's not an easy job. ”

"That's why it's him. He said that he wanted to make my wish come true. If I can't even cross this obstacle, how can I end my eternity?"

Skaha's attitude gave the old man the answer to another question.

"It seems that I don't need to ask about him anymore. ”

"Let's say okay first, you can let him work, but you are not allowed to accept him as a disciple, there is not much difference between becoming your disciple and becoming a waste. I finally see a little hope, and if it is shattered because of you, you can wait for my 'stabbing of extinction'. ”

"Remember, Your Majesty Skaha. ”

The old man's attitude was neither humble nor arrogant, and with a wave of his right hand, the red mark on the page changed.

"Project H Executor, Project I Subject--Shinji Makiri!"