By the time the sun was overhead, the entire desert had transformed into a nightmarish landscape.

The sand was covered with vitrified holes, corroded by the liquid dripping from the mercury monster.

Most of Neos's golden armor was broken, revealing the pale skin underneath.

The monster was also changing. It no longer maintained its flowing elegance, its body was covered with dark red rust spots, and its movements became sluggish.

But it was even more terrifying. It began to distort the space around it. Selina saw sand particles floating upwards against common sense, and saw that a part of Neos' cloak suddenly "disappeared", and the cross-section was as neat as if it had been cut by the sharpest scissors.

The knight suddenly made a strange move. He pulled off a glowing object from his chest and pressed it against the handle of his gun, then -

Selina could never explain what she saw next.

The moment Neos leaped up, time seemed to slow down. His spear shone with sunlight, and where the tip of the spear passed, the air was torn apart like silk, revealing the starry darkness behind.

The metal monster let out a scream that shattered the sand dunes, and its entire body was sucked uncontrollably towards the crack!

When the last trace of liquid metal disappeared into the crack, Neos knelt on one knee and stuck his spear deep into the sand to steady his body.

The princess then discovered that the pupil of the left eye of the person in front of her had turned pure gold, while a line of bloody tears flowed from the right eye.

At dusk, Neos left.

The warrior took out the metal sphere from his arms. It was still trembling slightly, like an unwilling heart.

"It's time to find you a place to rest..."

He looked up at the evening star that had just appeared. It was the red Mars, as bright as blood in the night sky.

Neos clasped his hands together, and his spiritual energy surged again.

The metal sphere turned into a red light and shot into the sky, disappearing in the direction of Mars.

........................

The story is over.

The light of the Golden Throne had become so dim that it was almost extinguished, with only a few wisps of remaining spiritual energy flowing like gossamer through the Emperor's decayed body.

His skin was as dry as parchment, clinging to his bones, and purple blood vessels twisted and spread under the skin like some kind of ancient rune.

His lips had shrunk, revealing his white teeth, and every breath was accompanied by the humming of the Golden Throne's pipes, as if the machine was squeezing out his last bit of life force.

The guards were half-kneeling under the throne, their golden armor still shining in the dim light, but their postures were no longer as upright as before, but slightly leaning forward, as if they were bearing an invisible pressure.

Their faces were hidden beneath their helmets, but their knuckles were white as they gripped their axes.

They were silent, because any words seemed pale and powerless at this moment.

Neos' body began to tremble.

It was a subtle, almost imperceptible tremor, like the last flicker of a candle in the wind.

His fingers curled slightly on the armrests of the throne, and his rotten nails scraped against the metal, making a harsh sound.

A low wheeze came from his throat, like the beat of an old bellows.

"Next..." His voice was as hoarse as sandpaper, and every syllable seemed to be squeezed out from his rotten lungs, "I will inject my last psychic energy... into the Golden Throne and the Astronomican."

Yang Cheng stood in front of the throne, his black robe hanging to the ground, forming a sharp contrast with the residual glow of spiritual energy flowing around the golden throne.

His face was stern, but there was an imperceptible fluctuation in the depths of his eyes.

"This spiritual energy... can sustain their normal use for about two months."

Neos raised his eyelids with difficulty, and looked at Yang Cheng with his white pupils, as if looking through him into the more distant future. "If you can solve everything within two months... then everything can still turn around."

His voice became weaker and weaker, as if it would break off at any moment.

"On the contrary...if you can't..."

Neos paused, his cracked lips trembling slightly, as if he was considering the last words.

"I will ask you to sit on the golden throne... and sacrifice your life for the future of mankind..."

His gaze fell on Yang Cheng's face, no longer with the majesty of an emperor, but an almost pleading gaze.

There were so many things in those eyes—millions of years of exhaustion, guilt towards a close friend, hope for the future, and... a desire for relief.

The throne room fell into deathly silence.

The imperial guards' breathing stopped for a moment, and all their eyes were focused on Yang Cheng.

Yang Cheng was silent for a moment, then slowly bent down and knelt on one knee in front of Neos. His movements were very gentle, as if he was afraid of disturbing something.

"I agree, Neos."

His voice was low and firm, without any hesitation.

Neos smiled.

The smile looked strange on his decayed face, yet strangely warm.

The corners of his mouth rose slightly, and tiny blood marks appeared on his dry skin, but he didn't care.

Two lines of clear tears slid down from his turbid eyes, washing away the dried blood on his face, leaving two clear marks.

“Thank you for your dedication… Yang Cheng.”

His voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible, but every word carried a lot of weight.

Then--

Something happened that shocked all the imperial guards.

Neos, the Lord of Humanity, the rotten corpse on the golden throne, a being that has never moved in ten thousand years...slowly raised his right arm.

The arm had long since decayed, the skin was cracked, the muscles were atrophied, and the bones were clearly visible, as if it would break at the slightest touch. But it did raise itself, trembling, struggling, but firmly...

Patted Yang Cheng's shoulder gently.

"Thank you, my friend."

At this moment, Neos' vision suddenly blurred.

The golden dome of the throne room disappeared, the figures of the imperial guards faded, and even Yang Cheng's face became hazy. In its place, there was a soft white light, like the purest morning mist at dawn.

And in that light, there were several people standing.

Malcador, his most loyal prime minister, had an old but gentle face, still holding the familiar scepter in his hand, and nodded to him gently.

Sanguinius, his most perfect son, with white wings spread out and golden eyes full of forgiveness and understanding.

Olpersson, his lost best friend, had a familiar playful smile on his face, as if to say "You are finally here".

They stood in the light, smiling at him and waving to him.

As if to say——

"Time to rest, old friend."

Neos' lips trembled as he silently called out their names.

His heart - the heart that had long since dried up and was beating only on psychic energy - suddenly felt a long-lost stabbing pain.

That is... the pain of nostalgia.

"Welcome back, old friend."

Malcador said with a smile as he looked at Neos in front of him in the light and shadow.

"Yes, I..."

Neos didn't know what to say, he could only stare at the figures in front of him in silence.