Ding Lang's sudden question plunged Evernight into a brief silence. The revelation that past memories had discovered themselves to be merely a cluster of memories was utterly absurd.
Although Ding Lang hadn't fully grasped the truth, he was dangerously close.
Should she deceive him, stall him, or tell him the truth?
But the moment she began considering this, Evernight realized the answer no longer mattered.
Ding Lang was intelligent. Even if she chose to lie, she might not be able to fool him. One lie would require countless others to maintain. Even her hesitation to answer immediately betrayed something.
Yet if she told the truth, Ding Lang's question—"Does any of what we're doing now have meaning?"—remained a profound one. After a moment's reflection, Evernight replied, "Everything a person does has meaning."
Just because the outcome is predetermined doesn't negate the value of the effort itself.
Even taking a pragmatic view, focusing solely on the events within their current memories, was it better for these people to live in a daze, knowing their inevitable doom, or to cling to hope, eagerly anticipating each new day and fighting with all their might?
The former might be even more tragic than death itself, while the latter, though perhaps fueled by a 'false satisfaction,' at least offered the solace of inner fulfillment for those who fought their hardest.
"I see..." Ding Lang nodded. Evernight's words unequivocally confirmed his suspicions: he wasn't a real person. Had anyone else learned they were a fabrication, they might have given up in despair or lost all passion and hope. But Ding Lang wouldn't. He continued to ponder.
Now that he knew he was in the past, under what circumstances would someone from another world come to observe his world's 'past'?
The answer was clear: their world must be facing the threat of the Mother of Flesh, forcing them to seek solutions in other worlds. It was highly likely that Ding Lang's world had already been destroyed in the normal timeline, otherwise, why wouldn't Evernight have simply sought cooperation from people in the Main World's proper timeline?
Now that he knew his world had likely already been destroyed, Ding Lang returned to his initial question: Did anything he was doing now still matter?
The answer was yes.
Ding Lang stood there, still able to think and act. That meant he could still do something.
His world had already been destroyed, and countless other worlds were now threatened by the Mother of Flesh. This only meant he should strive even harder to find a way to defeat her, thus helping other suffering worlds.
A vile person, upon learning of their impending death, might try to drag others down with them. But a noble person, knowing they were already dead, would instead try to support those still falling, attempting to push them out of danger.
Ding Lang turned to Evernight and Heinrich. "Actually, you should have told me the truth from the beginning. If you had, I wouldn't have wasted resources on meaningless endeavors."
Heinrich was taken aback, momentarily unable to grasp Ding Lang's meaning. In his mind, anyone learning such a devastating truth would surely sink into despair for a while. But what was Ding Lang getting at?
Ding Lang continued, "I should focus more on studying our enemies rather than on some grand scheme of 'saving the world.' Later, I'll use the pretense of 'saving the world' to continue issuing orders, requiring everyone at No. 3 Factory to assist me with my research. There's no need to reveal the truth to them—let them continue living in their false hope."
Heinrich stammered, "Your... this..."
The sheer scale of Ding Lang's resolve left him somewhat shaken.
Ding Lang pressed, "Tell me everything you know about the Mother of Flesh—that Outer God. Any information you have, share it all."
Heinrich took a deep breath, composing his bewildered thoughts, and slowly explained the crucial point: worlds invaded and assimilated by the Mother of Flesh become incubators for her resurrection.
Ding Lang immediately grasped the crucial point. "So, the most critical issue now is to locate all the worlds destroyed by this Outer God across the Cosmic Sea, correct?"
Heinrich faltered, caught off guard. He hadn't considered this angle at all. Wasn't the primary goal of this mission to find ways to weaken the Child of Flesh, thereby mitigating the potential threat to the Main World and improving our defenses?
Evernight, however, tapped her small head thoughtfully. "Are you truly confident you can pinpoint all the worlds destroyed by the Mother of Flesh?"
Ding Lang replied, "Give me some time, and I can try."
As he spoke, he placed the device in his hand on the nearby table and began operating it. "Then, let's meet again in the future. I'll summon you when I have results or need your help again."
Evernight nodded. "Very well."
She placed her small hand on Heinrich's shoulder, and time began to accelerate. Little did she know, this acceleration would last far longer than any previous attempt.
One month, three months, six months, a year, even five or ten years passed without Ding Lang calling Evernight's name again.
Time flew by relentlessly. Fifty years later, an aged voice finally echoed near the Jellyfish, reaching Evernight's ears. She immediately halted the time acceleration and emerged from the tunnel of memories.
The once-proclaimed "world's youngest genius Magitech Doctor" now stood before them, a stooped old man with snow-white hair and a hunched back. Yet his eyes remained remarkably clear as he gazed at Evernight and Heinrich, who had materialized before him, unchanged from his memories of fifty years past. He sighed, "Long time no see, you two—or perhaps, for you, it was only a moment?"
Simultaneously, a clamor erupted outside the room. Evernight strode to the window, her small legs carrying her across the wooden floor with rhythmic clicks of her heels. Through the glass, she saw that the Eternal Night had vanished; light had returned.
Moreover, luminous "stars"—or rather, activated Matrix Modules—dotted the sky at regular intervals. These modules, interconnected, formed a vast diamond-shaped Barrier, enveloping the entire world.
In the courtyard below, countless people knelt on the ground or stretched their arms skyward as if embracing The Sky, their faces radiant with joy. They murmured:
"It worked! It actually worked!"