Pushing open the familiar theater door of the theater, the theater was dark, and all the lights that had never been extinguished were dimmed.

The only light that was still there was not focused on the stage, but on the edge of the stage, on the desk where many scripts had been lit and scripts were written.

The sound of the pen nib rubbing against the paper is rhythmic, like a melodious piece of music that will never be interrupted.

Holding a pen in one hand and writing constantly, the black-skinned and red-edged notebook, I can't count how many pages there are, which is meaningless to it.

From time to time, the tip of the pen pauses slightly, the book gently turns the page, and after the crisp sound, the sound of writing is picked up again.

Wan also walked in slowly.

Although he was already familiar with all the displays around him, he still inevitably felt a little strange when he walked into this place at this time.

The sound of undisguised footsteps began to mingle with the sound of writing, breaking the usual peace, but the writing did not stop.

There is no person in the theater here, and there are no toys that he used to display here at will, and the whole theater seems to be "reversed", like another world in a mirror.

Subtle unreal, yet real.

It's always existed, but Wan Yi didn't realize it for a long time.

The script has always been in the theater.

Wan also overlooked something.

What did he overlook?

He didn't pay much attention to it at first, but as the clones grew, instead of being clear, things became more and more blurry.

What Wan also ignores is himself.

In front of me, a figure sitting on a desk writing carefully, wearing a white shirt with a brown button-down vest and loose brown trousers on the bottom. Some of their long, disheveled hair was tied in a ponytail and hung at the back of their heads.

Wan Yi's footsteps stopped at some distance, just in front of the stage below.

At this time, the writing figure in front of him also abruptly stopped writing, the white quill pen in his hand trembled slightly, and the hand with a thin black glove slowly put down the pen.

The theater fell silent for a moment, until Wan Yi opened his mouth and said, "That's the 'script'." ”

"Well, that's it." The figure gently stroked the page in front of him, "I have been writing for as long as you have been through since you came into this world. ”

"The first place I came to was not the Golden Circle, but here." Wan Yi followed.

"And this is where we were truly born, and it is here that you are truly stimulated, stimulated, and created your first clone."

As he spoke, the figure stood up, turned around, and looked at Wan Yi with a somewhat indifferent smile.

Familiar facial contours, facial features, the same deep eye sockets and dark circles, but wearing an extra pair of gold-rimmed round glasses.

His dress reveals the fragile style of a literati, with a hint of delicacy, but it feels like a phantom that may fall and disappear at any time.

"Hello, me." Wan Yi in front of him said, "I am your first forgotten doppelganger, you can call me a 'playwright'." ”

"Hello, me, my first doppelganger, playwright." Wan Yi also greeted with a smile.

The playwright nodded and said, "It seems that you have fully awakened and understood everything, so this is the last thing you need." ”

He closed the script on the table and held it in his hand.

The Book of Calamity is similar in size to the black copy, but much thicker.

"'Theater' is the starting point of thousands of stories about the broken world, big and small, that being who died in this world caused the concept to be shattered and the situation to be distorted, and at that time the world should have already perished."

"It's just that there is another being outside the world who has reached out to help, and with part of the power of the dead being, he has connected this broken world and created a theater, which has become the foundation of the phenomenon, so that the world has not completely collapsed and has become a part of the chaotic nothingness."

"If you want to become the last god above the Void, that's what you need."

The "playwright" slowly narrates, looking down at the script in his hand: "This is your last piece of the puzzle. ”

"What have you been writing so far?" Wan Yi didn't dwell on this, but asked.

"Fill up some broken stories, and write stories that don't exist." The playwright replied, "The operation of the story requires the actions of the characters, and some theaters cannot support a fully functional story on their own, and I need to help me complete the details." Stories that don't exist, on the other hand, are often in the boundary zone. ”

"The story of the Boundary Zone?"

"The story flow of the Boundary Belt is different from the Broken World, and the Will of the Boundary interferes too much with the story, and some things are deliberately cut away by them, and I need to write them back."

The "playwright" said to Wan Yi: "The special doppelgangers in the boundary zone you created through the theater are also in this part. But don't worry about it, I'm happy to give the story its own fluidity, otherwise I wouldn't be able to write it alone. ”

Wan Yi wasn't too surprised, just raised his eyebrows lightly and said, "But at least you did write their story?" ”

"Well, at least, most of the time I hope that those clones can finish their stories, even if they are mediocre, at least they shouldn't be allowed to exist because of the exclusion of the boundaries themselves." "Playwright" laughed.

"That's why I can't grab your pen." Wan also looked at the quill pinned to the waist of the "playwright".

Each revision took so much painstaking effort that it was only slightly improved when the time score was left to him with another pen.

"You have not awakened enough to control it, and of course, because I have traveled far away relative to you. Even if it's myself, I don't like to give up the direction of the story at will. ”

"Even if I just want them to have a better life?"

"You want them to have a better life, and I can only try to make the story complete, and whether to have joys and sorrows or family reunions is not something I can focus on. I'm not quite you anymore, Wan Yi. "Playwright" sighed softly and shook his head.

Wan Yi looked at the "playwright" in front of him, although they were exactly the same, the difference between the two was no smaller than the difference between Wan Yi and the people in the play, or even bigger and more distant.

As the earliest doppelgänger in the past, the first doppelganger, buried in the dark side of the theater Gu Zi write, the pen never stopped, under the environment of the Aether Sea, under the countless stories flowing in front of him, he has gone to a strange road.

"Well, I'll accept that reason not to beat you up." Wan Yi smiled.

If the people in the previous play and even the countless clones who failed to die well were handled by the one in front of them, then Wan Yimen would definitely not let go easily.

"Whether you're going to beat me or not, that's not certain." "Playwright," said with a slight lift of his glasses.

Wan Yi looked at him.

"I'm sorry, but I won't give you the book or the pen."

The words fell, and the theater fell silent.

After a long time, the "playwright" saw that Wan also did not react, and then continued: "The pen is the flow of the story, born in response to the broken world, but it is only a broken world, and it itself has no ability to write a more complete story. And the script ...... If it is given to you, you will become a supreme being, but after that, if you lose the script, the theater will collapse, the world will be completely shattered, everything will be reduced to the void of chaos, and the story will cease to exist. ”

The "playwright" looked at Wan Yi: "The meaning of my existence is different from yours, maintaining the world is the way I have found for myself, and I will not sacrifice this world for your path." ”

"Stories have existential value, not a ladder of nothingness."

Suddenly, Wan Yi smiled.

"It's really changed a lot, and among all the doppelgangers, you are the only one who intends to stand on the opposite side of me, and what you are doing is not yourself but the grand world. I can't imagine that after graduating from college, I would become such a person one day, I wonder if I can praise greatness? ”

Wan Yi turned around and slowly walked onto the stage, not waiting for the "playwright" to respond, and continued: "What do you think I will do? ”

"As far as I know about myself, I'm going to leave this fucking world without any regard for it, and become a supreme god on my own, and go to that endless void to live at ease."

"Maybe I won't do that?"

"Yes, you probably won't do that, but you're me, and I can't see through you." "Playwright" said calmly.

"That's the biggest barrier, you've gone too far to hear me."

As he spoke, two books had already appeared in Wan Yi's hands.

The self-enclosed chains of the Book of Calamity had broken and glowed red, and the black copies shimmered in black.

"Thanks, I know what to do with the key props." After speaking, Wan Yi rubbed the two books vigorously, and then slammed them into his body.

In the end, the ether spliced and blended the two books, and then formed a brand-new, red-on-background gold-edged script, which was integrated into Wan Yi's body.

Completion.

In an instant, Wan Yi felt his existence expand suddenly, and all Wan Yi suddenly disappeared and converged back into Wan Yi's body.

Wan Yi's gaze passed through the fragments of the world, and he saw the endless void behind it, the void world filled with wriggling chaos.

Is this the perspective of God beyond this world?

This thought flashed through his mind, and Wan Yi felt the tranquility that he had not seen for a long time, and all Wan Yi's thoughts reached absolute unity at this moment.

However, the two books are only photocopies, and cannot be an absolute support, and the state of Wan Yi is not eternal.

He quickly scanned the Chaotic Void, as if he saw a myriad of similarly powerful beings casting suspicious glances at him.

The real chaotic void is like a dazzling starry sky, under the chaos filling, the order is like the stars showing their own colors, and under the order, the story between sorrow and joy is constantly happening and running.

Finally, Wan Yi's gaze looked into the depths of the void, and with the support of curiosity, he tried to incorporate everything into his impressions.

In that depth, he saw another starry sky, more active than the void itself, as if it were a living being, a grand starry sky with more brilliant colors, and there was tolerance between the majesty.

The depths of the void are quite beautiful.

Thinking about the whereabouts.

Wan also restrained his will, opened his eyes, and still stood on the stage.

The lights of the theater were all turned on, and the auditorium was empty.

The "playwright" watched this scene in amazement, and then the script in his hand spontaneously started and flew into Wan Yi's hands.

He was about to reach out to stop him, but he realized something in the middle of the road and withdrew his hand.

"I see, in the end, you're greater than me."

He shook his head helplessly, but then smiled.

"Wan Yi" picked up the pen, the pen left by the time.

It's not just the time spectrum, but all the four people who once saved the world, the pen they left together, the pen that leads to the road to wholeness.

The pages of the script turned violently to a new page.

Wan also placed his pen on the page.

There was a brief pause.

Put pen to paper.

(End of chapter)