AWB Chapter 186 Adam's Script
Chapter 186 Adam's Script
Chapter 186 Adam's Script (An extra chapter today!!)
Looking at Amon, who was smiling and waving to him from not far away, Cyril suddenly felt a calmness as if he had drunk expired pesticide.
After a brief silence, he asked curiously:
"When did you catch up with me?"
Amon jumped down from the windowsill and said with a smile:
"Just now, while you were praying to that 'fool,' unfortunately...:"
He didn't say what he regretted, but Cyril guessed that he regretted that "The Fool" didn't respond to him, otherwise he might have been able to do something to try to lock on, although it would most likely have failed.
Snapped!
Cyril snapped his fingers, and a pile of drawing papers on the table nearby floated up.
Most of them are blank, but some have already been drawn, except that these drawings are now wearing a monocle.
Cyril noticed the mocking monocles in the portrait but ignored them, summoning them anyway.
"Are you trying to give yourself a dignified way to commit suicide?" Amon asked curiously.
Before he finished speaking, a blinding silver-white light suddenly shone in the cloudless sky outside the window.
Boom!
The thunder that shattered the air reached our ears a step too late.
The silvery-white lightning, filled with a sense of violence and destruction, lasted for less than half a second before fading away amidst a deafening roar of thunder.
In that half-second, the roof, walls, and floor of the attic, as well as the surrounding objects, all carbonized and disappeared under that terrifying electric light, leaving only scattered, crackling electrical currents running around.
Cyril and Amon stood facing each other in mid-air as if unaffected by gravity, completely unaffected by the surrounding electric currents.
Their bodies were ethereal, shimmering with iridescent starlight, and they possessed pairs of transparent, membrane-like wings, making them appear extremely mysterious.
A person's classic robe fluttered in the wind, giving them a casual and unrestrained look.
Amon raised his hand to adjust his monocle, smiled, and suggested:
"Have you considered collaborating with me? Don't you think we're quite similar?"
"And do you really think a paranoid person would choose the 'fool' over me?"
Sirion looked up at the rapidly gathering dark clouds overhead and frowned slightly.
"Let's survive first before we talk about this."
Before he finished speaking, a ball of lightning the size of a public carriage fell down, splitting in mid-air and striking both Amon and Cyril.
Faced with the rolling silver-white lightning, even though he was in a dimension outside of reality, Cyril still felt a chill run down his spine, and the hairs on his body stood on end.
I will die, I will definitely die!
He could clearly feel the power contained in the violent and sinister ball of lightning that was rapidly approaching him; that extreme power was enough to tear through space and attack him, who was in another dimension.
Adam!
As his thoughts drifted, a pure, warm golden light suddenly appeared in front of him.
The moment the light and shadow appeared, it enveloped him, and then he faced the oncoming ball lightning head-on.
boom!
Amidst a series of muffled, continuous sounds, terrifying silver-white lightning ravaged half the street, utterly destroying it without leaving a trace.
Enveloped in warm golden light, Sirien stared blankly at the scene, feeling as if it were unreal.
The battle between Amon and Adam didn't seem to have affected much, so why did the "Lord of Storms" destroy half a street instead?
Although this was probably the result of a great effort to restrain power for a Sequence 0 true god, Sirion still found it hard to accept.
Anger, self-blame, and other emotions were brewing and surging within me.
"Look more closely," Adam's voice echoed gently in his heart.
In a brief moment, the turbulent emotions in his heart were calmed down.
Once he calmed down, he looked around again. The charred ruins receded like a curtain, revealing the unscathed street below.
It's just wishful thinking! No, more than that, he also sensed the charm of fantasy in it.
Boom! Boom!
Thunder rumbled incessantly from within the ominous, pressing down clouds.
Silvery lightning struck one after another, each time hitting a nameless passerby, a roadside tree, a street lamp, a bird hiding under the eaves, or an ant lurking in a crack...
Of course, even more lightning struck Cyrien, or more precisely, the golden light and shadow that enveloped him.
But before these lightning bolts could strike that pure golden light, they were either annihilated or deflected by various coincidences.
As the golden light and shadow strolled by, Amon, who was being chased and struck by lightning, suddenly appeared.
He frowned, staring intently at the figure before him that seemed to be composed of pure light; his brows were deeply furrowed.
"I'm starting to doubt whether you really are that paranoid virtual personality?"
The golden figure that had been dancing in the lightning paused for a moment. Its head, devoid of features and face, a pure condensation of light, looked at Amon and asked curiously:
"Why do you ask that? Is there anything about me that's unlike Adam?"
Amon: "Apart from the abilities he has shown, he is nothing like anyone else."
boom!
The silvery-white lightning that struck down from the sky instantly engulfed Amon and the golden light.
Two seconds later, the lightning dissipated, revealing a street that was pitted, charred, and showed signs of carbonization. Amon and the pure golden light and shadow had long since disappeared.
Above the sky, amidst the thick, layered dark clouds, the electric snakes "silently" swam for a while before gradually dissipating.
Inside the magnificent ossuary, before the enormous cross surrounded by countless white bones, a crack that resembles a door is silently torn open.
Beyond the crevice lay a deep, dark sea. Every drop of water splashed by the waves crashing against the rocks was like a ray of light, as if representing a trace of consciousness, a mark.
Above the deep sea, a pure golden light quietly appeared, passed through the rift, and arrived at the Bone Church.
The moment they entered the Church of Bones, the figure composed of pure golden light silently disintegrated, casting a clear and brilliant golden light over the church's main hall.
Cyril's figure appeared silently amidst a golden aura.
He first looked around blankly, then his gaze quickly locked onto Adam, who was sitting in front of the huge cross, holding a quill pen, writing something on a floating white sheet of paper.
He hesitated for less than half a second before stepping closer, craning his neck to curiously examine what Adam had written on the paper:
Amidst the turmoil of fate, Cyril, who had escaped the Church of Bones, coincidentally returned to his home and was discovered by the clone left behind by Amon.
Overconfident Amon overlooked the danger lurking within the painting he had parasitized, which would cause the false "Lord of Storms" summoned by Cyril to enrage the true "Lord of Storms".
The "Lord of the Storms," repeatedly offended, cast his gaze upon the scene and unleashed divine punishment. During the process, he discovered Amon and, out of his own standpoint and due to necessary vigilance, directly eliminated most of Amon's clones in Backlund from a distance.
Having gained some benefits but lost many clones, and now being targeted by the "Lord of Storms," Amon will not be returning to Backlund in the near future.
Amidst the turbulent waves of fate, encountering and resolving crises, Cyril, under the watchful eyes of several powerful "spectators," completely digests the "astrologer" potion within him.
As Adam finished writing the last word, Cyril heard a shattering sound in his ears, and a hazy starry sky outlined by countless illusory stars appeared before his eyes.
In those fleeting, illusory stars, he felt a gathering and attraction that came from the heart and from instinct.
In less than a second, all the strange phenomena disappeared, and everything returned to normal. Sirien felt a sense of ease from his spirit to his mind to his body.
At this moment, he had completely absorbed the "astrologer's" potion.
Although he didn't even understand how his experience today conformed to the rules of playing the role of an "astrologer".
Before the giant cross, Adam made the quill in his hand disappear, and then handed the sheet of paper filled with the script of "The Writer" to Sirion.
The latter took it and read it carefully from beginning to end, but still had many questions.
What are the waves that fate stirs up?
Adam looked up at him and greeted him with a smile, "Didn't you already guess?"
Cyril: "The 'Weaver of Fate' in the starry sky, the 'Ring of Destiny,' or fate itself?"
Adam replied calmly, "In a way, they are equivalent to fate."
"Didn't that little snake tell you before that fate doesn't like you? This 'dislike' will erupt at certain times, forming a chain of misfortunes. You can take it as fate's self-correction."
"To prevent fate's self-correction from erupting at certain crucial moments and bringing unpredictable changes, I have arranged a performance for you through Amon's arrival."
"Fate doesn't always correct itself. After this outburst, you can get through a period of time relatively calmly."
Cyril nodded thoughtfully: "I see..."
"So that's how it is."
His exclamation was interrupted by a very familiar voice that sounded behind him.
Without the slightest hesitation, Cyril rushed up behind Adam at top speed.
Where he had just stood, Amon, dressed in a classical robe and a pointed soft hat, appeared out of thin air, like a classical wizard.
He and Adam stared at each other silently for a long while, then he chuckled softly and said:
"Since I've cooperated so well in this performance, shouldn't I get some compensation?"