The elder's eyes were brimming with tears, nearly on the verge of collapse.
At this moment, he felt as though life was worse than death, watching with open eyes as another "himself" replaced him, smiling, cultivating, growing, guiding his world to ascend...
That was supposed to be his job!
That pseudo-human was replacing his connections and harming the new buds and younger generation of their world.
All he could do was hide in the shadows, in secret chambers, watching, gritting his teeth as the pseudo-human calamity wreaked havoc.
This is a feeling that ordinary people cannot understand.
Once every million years, he silently watched that "himself" take away the newly ascended descendants from his homeland, with increasingly solemn and numb expressions.
"Alas, alas." With a long sigh of despair, the escort flying boat had already departed into the distance.
Amidst the space turbulence, the elder opened his new pseudo-human observation diary, reflecting back on the beginning.
