On the Holy Groundest, a naked feathered maiden holds a crumpled baby in her arms. The baby was wrapped in a green winged robe, and looked so weak that it seemed as if a gust of wind was blowing, and the little wet wings on his back would be scattered with the wind.

The maiden was crying, crying and begging the Bedsister to save her child.

The Prophet's eyes shimmered with gold, but his wings shrunk as if they were entangled in some kind of gelatinous substance, shrunken and strange. Several spider-silk threads hung him above the Hallownest, looking condescendingly at the maiden and her children.

"He—he can't breathe!" The girl cried and cried, "Please save him, save my son—"

"He is vulnerable," the Prophet declared, "and it would be merciful for the Lord to take him away." ”

"No!" The girl screamed loudly, her pretty petite wings spread out in terror, and her hands spasmed the baby's belly, "He can live, he can live, I know!" He-he's-"

"Who is his father?" The prophet looked around.

The girl was silent.

"Who is his father?" The prophet asked, and his voice grew sharper and sharper, more and more like the cry of an old raven.

"He... There is no father. The girl said tremblingly.

The light in the Prophet's eyes burned her soul like two flames.

"Water without roots, people without roots." The Prophet whispered, "God gives, and does not take." God doesn't choose, it's the child himself who makes the choice. ”

The girl shuddered, as if she had a premonition.

A spider silk hung down from the top of her head and rolled the child out of her arms and into the Prophet like a tentacle. The child hung upside down, and the Prophet stretched out his hand and slapped his little foot three times tremblingly.

The winged baby cried out loud with a "wow".

The child survived.

In the end, the girl only felt that the world had become dark. The baby just blocked out the only source of light—the burning eyes that hung in the air, and a huge shadow as royal pride reflected on the only stone wall of the Hallownest, on which were inscribed the formulas of the Creator and all the secrets of creation.

The child stretched out his little hand to play with the spider silk, and the murmur of "Zheng Zheng" was so pleasant to the girl's ears.

"Brave girl Fei Ying, this is a gift from God for you." The prophet's voice came from the other side of the shadows, and the maiden named Fei Ying was hazy with tears.

"He—is he going to be the patriarch?" The girl bravely spoke out the extravagant hopes she only dared to think, but never confided in anyone.

"More than that."

"That's... Will he be a prophet? Fei Ying's heart was beating so hard, as if all her strength was waiting for an answer that she couldn't even think of.

"More."

She was confused.

"He will rule rather than submit, he will be the rule-maker rather than the keeper, and his wings will cover the firmament. He is the lifter of the fate of this civilization, and he will have a song. ”

Fei Ying was almost stunned. At this moment, a spider silk hung down and flapped her wings softly.