Eldritch Horror Theatre

Did the Ancient Sun God really not want to return that much?

Diligent effort pays off. After a bit of maneuvering, he had actually baited out a massive reaction—a true victory for conspiracy theories.

Though for Fu Qian, the scene playing out before his eyes felt somewhat counterintuitive.

There could be many explanations, of course. For instance, the sun had theoretically fallen completely. Just like Ariel from before, the questioner was merely channeling a divine descent under specific conditions.

Therefore, even though this power was vast, it contained none of the Ancient Sun God’s will. It was purely the power of light snapping automatically upon seeing an evil demon like him.

Fu Qian was no stranger to an atmosphere where everyone wanted him dead on sight, but this still felt a bit too passive.

There was even a subtle incongruity here—if it was reacting this violently now, why had it been so low-key earlier?

After all, from the very beginning up until a moment ago, he hadn’t seen a single sliver of light. It had essentially allowed an evil demon like himself to run rampant and wreak havoc unchecked.

If he hadn’t fully exercised the paranoia of a seasoned professional, he might never have discovered such an incredible dormant power, even by the time this third Etched Intellect shattered.

Looking at it from this angle, the power seemed to possess some degree of subjective initiative, which made the whole situation feel rather awkward.What a pity. Aside from what he gleaned about the deterioration of faith from those few short sentences, the party involved showed absolutely no desire to communicate.

Amidst the fanatical laughter, even that superimposed, illusory body rapidly dissipated. It gave off a sense of finally finding release within immaculate purity—and even seeking to purify all living beings in passing.

The situation Fu Qian had been worrying about finally arrived at that moment.

Under the clash between two higher entity powers, this place could no longer be described as a mere Lighthouse. If anyone actually managed to witness it without going blind, they would probably take it as an omen signaling the dawn of a new era for humanity.

However, it was ultimately just a flash in the pan. Soon enough, everything—including the light itself—shattered with a resounding crash.

This third Etched Intellect had ultimately failed to hold on.

And by the time Fu Qian realized he was already sitting in the Chair, the sun made no further movements.

...

As expected... the Etched Intellects were strung directly together.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise. Sitting steadily there, Fu Qian immediately examined the Ring in his hand.

The Tyrant’s Mechanical Fist, modified into a timer, clearly proved that time had reverted to the exact moment he first pushed open the door.

Combined with the sudden shift in environment, no matter how he looked at it, he was trapped in an endless loop of Etched Intellects.

At the same time, it was the worst-case scenario. Fu Qian’s gaze continued upward.

Not only were his fingers dotted with burn holes, but his clothes had also turned to ash, leaving only the hastily cobbled-together coverings.

Depletion and injuries still carried over. Though they couldn’t be considered severe, this steady trend of expenditure exceeding recovery was far from optimistic.

The only good news seemed to be that he was in a familiar location?

Finally taking a good look around, Fu Qian noted that the decor was still full of the Arcane Mathematics Research Institute style. Even the Chair beneath him was classically elegant.

He could even recognize the exact location of this place; it was right next to the main hall after entering the door.

The only problem was its severe dilapidation.

The Chair was still sturdy enough not to wobble, but everything within sight was truly a scene of decay, much more pronounced than the previous two times.

While the building’s overall structure remained, the place was an absolute mess, with shattered debris scattered everywhere.

Even the inlaid Silver Dot-Lines were covered in a peculiar dust, rendering them even dimmer than other areas.

The only improvement was that the lamp was lit.

Although its light was weak as a bean, it at least added a hint of human presence—or perhaps a ghostly one.

Given the sheer ruin in sight and the total absence of living creatures so far, a place like this lit by a lamp like that almost gave one the urge to go look for a coffin.

But regardless, practicing self-discipline in solitude was a Virtue. As an academic leader, he still had to maintain his image.

Fu Qian snapped his fingers. Starting from a pair of shorts, a long robe quickly climbed over his entire body.

It had a solid black base and a serious cut, completed by a gray drape over the shoulders and back.

That was right; adapting to local customs, it was precisely the uniform of this ancient research institution.

Not satisfied with merely replicating it, Fu Qian casually completed the missing headwear. A square hat sprouted from his head, eventually letting down a brightly colored tassel.

Blazing Rainbow...

While casually toying with this Item, Fu Qian silently chanted a name in his heart.

...

[Usually appearing in the image of a beautiful woman, part of her authority overlaps with the sun.]

The sun’s reaction just now was indeed bizarre, but if he introduced a variable, it seemed possible to explain the awkwardness it had displayed.

The sentence above was Old Man Henry’s description of his covenant target, a certain Ancient Higher Being. It was something Fu Qian had always found deeply memorable.

And in the subsequent clash, the party involved had even stepped up to directly demonstrate her control over the sun.

Coupled with Blazing Rainbow’s appetite—which even sought to devour The Abyss—there seemed to be no reason to let slip an honorific name that shared an even closer relationship with her, right?

So, was it possible that behind that supernova, there really was a living higher entity? And that it was precisely that old acquaintance of his?

This was by no means baseless speculation. Think about it: who wouldn’t cherish such a godsent opportunity to secure more leverage for their return?

The simplest explanation was that she didn’t need to return at all.

According to Old Man Henry, her condition was excellent.

In fact, thanks to his sound thinking habits, a few backup candidates had naturally surfaced in Fu Qian’s mind as soon as he suspected someone was hiding there too discreetly.

The suddenly erupting supernova later on had merely helped further lock onto the target.

And although she hadn’t revealed any traces, as long as he substituted this answer into the equation, he would find that the lack of traces had itself become evidence—

[The night and the Nightmare are both too long.]

Because of this somewhat obscure sentence, Blazing Rainbow seemed to possess an extremely strong need to keep a low profile.

Even with her level of disgust toward him, she only set up a death trap within the task, unwilling to make any additional appearances.

Comparing it to the situation just now, he could find a fairly high degree of conceptual consistency, easily resolving the awkward points.

Considering she had once helped him ascend to a False God, it shouldn’t have been hard for her to recognize him.

An old acquaintance on poor terms, a spacetime of fallacy, and an unfathomable purpose—just thinking about it left little desire to show her face and say hello.

Choosing to hide off to the side at a time like this, quietly waiting for the fallacy to end, was quite consistent with her past style.

Even her decisive use of the sun as a disguise after accidentally being triggered into a reaction seemed like something she would do.

Surprisingly, the more he thought about it, the smoother it felt. But if that were the case, did Excellency Blazing Rainbow also have a hand in the Academy exploration incident back then?