Thanks for _______ ________ and Nefasturis for becoming as Supporters!
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A new star was about to emerge in the universe.
Even if it was likely to be a fleeting moment, the backing of several media giants would ensure its name left a mark in history.
Waiting with Big Herta for everyone to arrive, Sol received a message from his brother-in-law's side. He was a little stunned.
"..."
Sunday waited nervously for a response.
Although Aventurine had technically become Penacony's private property, in reality, Penacony had become Sol's domain. The sun floating in the sky constantly bestowed hope—a divine blessing.
Sunday hadn't forgotten that the giant who once defeated him had been created from that very sun.
"Do whatever you want, just don't start a fight."
Sol agreed to Sunday's request without hesitation.
That mess was Aventurine's own doing, coveting Firefly and trying to uncover the secrets behind Penacony's memory black hole. Preventing Sunday from ascending to godhood was merely a stepping stone in the IPC's plan.
If Sunday wanted revenge, let him have it.
Sol thought Sunday was a good man—his form of retaliation was so gentle. If anyone tried to seize his assets, he would simply transform them and put them to work as a joke.
Sunday's approach was so mild, it was like a playful prank between brothers.
"Thank you."
Sunday was unusually excited.
Sol asked casually: "Anything else?"
Sunday hesitated, then grit his teeth: "Please… treat Robin kindly, gently."
Sol sighed: "I'm a nice guy! You really misunderstand me!"
Sunday nearly laughed in frustration: "Do you even believe your own words?"
"Goodbye, we'll talk later."
Without waiting for a reply, Sunday cut off the communication.
During Sol's stay at Penacony, he had confirmed relationships with at least three women and maintained flirtations with over five more.
A nice guy? What a shameless liar!
"How polite!"
Sol couldn't help but remark.
His brother-in-law had such high moral standards. Even saying goodbye before hanging up!
Big Herta asked with interest: "What happened?"
Sol briefly explained, shaking his head: "The world's gone to hell. Even a saint who wants everyone to have a seven-day weekend carries anger in his heart!"
Big Herta stroked her chin: "I see it differently. That Winged Boy of the Halovians, even when angry, acts so childish. Good people are too soft, letting the bad ones gloat."
"If this were my matter, that gambler kid would be stuck for eternity of a high-difficulty simulated universe."
She admired the Winged Boy—any remnant of order was precious. If only she could test the simulated universe.
She wondered how an Aeon of Equilibrium, integrated into the universe's flow, would react. Would THEY lock down the coffin of order completely?
"..."
Sol glanced at Big Herta, then turned away.
Women are women—how petty.
Eternity in the simulated universe… those contained multiple hellish scenarios, was far worse than execution.
Unlike him, whose heart could embrace the world!
"You're thinking naughty thoughts."
Big Herta, ever perceptive, said confidently.
"Nope."
Sol replied lazily.
"Hmph."
Big Herta snorted: "You can't fool me."
"I think I still can," Sol grinned mischievously. "Like if I said I'd just touch a little, you'd believe me."
"That only proves your shamelessness, and my nobility!"
Big Herta blushed.
How could anyone enter that place? This bastard, always taking the unconventional route!
"Big Herta, your virtue shines brightly! Your insight is brilliant!"
Little Herta clapped hands, face full of devotion.
"Go away!"
Big Herta glared at Little Herta: "From now on, don't flatter me in that tone!"
"..."
Sol suspected there was more behind it.
Little Herta had probably been a workhorse too long, venting pressure with mischief. After all, modeled after Big Herta herself—she was also cunning, and a proud genius.
Time passed quickly as the two chatted.
Two shuttles landed on the deck. Ruan Mei and Screwllum had arrived.
Stephen was only a holographic projection, attending virtually. The Erudition Pathstrider hovered above, wary of violence.
Big Herta and Sol greeted them. Genius deserved respect.
Screwllum bowed slightly: "Good afternoon, Big Herta."
"Pleasure to meet you, Sir Mercer," said Ruan Mei.
Data streamed through his mechanical eye; intelligence on Penacony's mechanical life compared against known profiles allowed a preliminary model to form.
Though he didn't recognize the Third-Generation Inorganic Emperor's authority, he held equivalent power.
"Good afternoon, Big Herta."
Ruan Mei smiled faintly, gentle yet distant: "Good afternoon, Sir Sol. I've heard your name and wanted to meet, though I didn't expect this coincidence."
"Perhaps… it's fate," Sol said.
A fleeting intoxication passed in her eyes, as if gazing upon a perfect artwork.
Such powerful life force made her body tremble in excitement.
Penacony's Giant of Hope—an entirely new life form, a high-energy being.
It carried hope and an unopened new Path.
Logically, Sol at this point was already eternal, with meme-like traits akin to the Aeon of Remembrance.
She wanted to have him lie down for study—but unlike little Gray, he wasn't that easy to handle.
"Good afternoon, Screwllum, Miss Ruan Mei."
"Likewise. It's a pleasure to see you both here," said Screwllum.
Sol smiled faintly at the mech gentleman and the qipao-clad beauty.
Their attendance signified partial success—his project had piqued significant interest.
Screwllum was likely the universe's top mechanical designer, crucial for completing the Resonator.
Ruan Mei led the field of life creation.
Perhaps less relevant to the Resonator, but Sol was highly interested in Ruan Mei's Propagation Pathstrider, the Imperator Insectorum.
Tayzzyronth had perished, but its Path remained unclaimed—possibly an open god position.
Propagation, aligned with Abundance, was reportedly a derivative of the Path of Permanence. His curiosity was piqued.
"Stop standing there. Let's discuss the simulated universe."
Big Herta subtly blocked Ruan Mei's gaze.
Screwllum pondered: "Question: Will Stephen meet us via the simulated universe?"
Based on objective reasoning, he quickly concluded: "Inference: He remains as cautious as ever."
"Lord of Silence, cowardly old fool!"
Big Herta cursed.
An Erudition Pathstrider controlling all known knowledge and sealing off the unknown, assassinating geniuses who touched forbidden knowledge—singlehandedly slowing the universe's progress.
Big Herta had never been inferior.
She trusted she could handle Polka, while acknowledging his accomplishments and understanding Stephen's caution.
"Your plans are too reckless," she remarked.
Ruan Mei lightly rubbed her palms, unreadable: "Trying to create a new Aeon probably already caught her attention."
Only a few knew of this, and none would leak it.
But Polka certainly knew—like many unnoticed geniuses who died quietly under her hands, spread across the universe, researching world-changing topics before dying in silence.
That assassin had unparalleled acumen.
"This time, I have absolute confidence."
Big Herta looked at Sol, beaming.
She didn't believe Aeons could be fully known; even Nous couldn't grasp all knowledge of other Aeons.
Thus Polka's omniscience could not include Sol—the demi-god in the process of ascension.
Yes, she was certain Sol was ascending. Slowly, without aid, it might take billions of years.
If Polka dared intervene, she would use Sol to stabilize the situation and challenge the Lord of Silence herself.
"Looks like you're confident in your god-creation plan."
Ruan Mei smirked, realizing something.
Though she didn't know why Big Herta, previously focused only on Nous, was so confident, a genius trusting this project so fully foretold spectacular outcomes.
"My blood is boiling!"
Sol smiled—but it wasn't fiery at all.
He didn't care about Polka. Even when she had been eyeing him in Penacony, he remained unfazed.
His greatest pre-ascension adversary would likely be Nous, hungry for his unknown knowledge.
Post-ascension, his natural rival would be Nanook—as Destruction and Hope was inherently opposed.
But before and after ascension, he wasn't scared.
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