Chapter 28: Desire and Wisdom
Within the former Void Great Maelstrom, now the central region of a star-forming nebula, a medium-sized world wrapped in endless silver mist was developing peacefully.
In the Siberia World, within the agricultural base of the southeastern region, the superhuman known as 'War Chariot' stood on an irrigation channel, holding a long metal staff. The white-haired old man gazed at the vast, lush fields of triple-season rice before him, then nodded in satisfaction.
This year in the Siberia World would be another bountiful harvest. With the world's restart and the active intervention of the Steel Serpent, the development of superhuman civilization had been remarkably smooth. Even the Soul Puppets, once considered rivals, now faithfully adhered to their agreement, cooperating and developing together without any ulterior motives.
"A bountiful harvest means food. Food means we can raise more children."
Caressing the specially shaped metal staff that served both as a weapon and a farming tool, War Chariot's wrinkled face broke into a genuine smile. "With children, there's a future... The next generation of our superhuman civilization can truly get on the right track and fully inherit the legacy of the previous era's civilization."
Population was the most important resource for any civilization. While not every tool required manual labor, and fully automated artificial intelligence systems existed, for fields like research and development, as well as for most civilizations that hadn't reached that stage, population remained the most critical resource.
The vast database left by Fatlervi contained the complete archives of the former Siberia civilization. After a thousand years of cyclical repetition, Soul Puppet technology had also reached profound depths. If not for the first generation of superhuman civilization lacking education and having a very small population, they might have established a complete small-scale industrial system within their own generation.
However, despite the various setbacks at the start, the future was bright and promising.
"Those Soul Puppets even used some kind of 'gene restoration cloning technology' to recreate some pre-apocalypse livestock... Although their taste and functionality can't compare to the special edible lifeforms left by that lord, these livestock reproduce much faster and can serve as a daily source of meat products."
After all, these were lifeforms naturally born from this world, naturally more suitable than the imported special lifeforms.
Thinking this, the old man stepped down from the irrigation channel, bent over, and gently stroked the stalks of rice. War Chariot, a powerful superhuman capable of tearing steel with his bare hands and moving at supersonic speeds, handled the plants as carefully as if he were caressing 'the future' itself. He squinted, swallowed, and murmured to himself, "Ten years ago, I never would have imagined..."
The Siberia World of today was completely different from what it had been over a decade ago when Fatlervi was still present.
Thanks to the special lifeforms brought by Joshua that could improve the climate, accelerate the world's orderly cycle, and restore the ecosystem, the entire Siberia World had shed its original barren appearance. It had become lush and verdant, like a vast grassland-rainforest world. At the two ends of the world, the Soul Puppets and superhuman civilization each occupied a region for development. While their cooperation wasn't particularly close, there was no hidden agenda, and both sides worked together to build a bright future.
As a founding elder of superhuman civilization, War Chariot could have held a high position in the newly established New Siberia government. However, believing himself too old and his rigid thinking unable to lead everyone forward, he declined the invitation. Many of the current government's high-ranking officials were former members of War Chariot's squad. To give War Chariot a place to relax, the government directly entrusted him with a high-quality agricultural region in the southeast, allowing him to enjoy his favorite life.
An aging old man shouldn't insist on remaining in high positions forever. This might be a kind of lazy complacency, but perhaps also a form of wisdom.
*Boom, boom.*
Thunder rumbled in the sky.
Sensing the increasingly oppressive atmosphere and the flashing lightning above, War Chariot snapped out of his thoughts. He looked up at the sky and muttered to himself in confusion, "Again? Didn't it rain a few days ago? Did those weather-controlling superhumans mess something up? Too much water will flood the crops..."
Worrying about potential losses, War Chariot couldn't stay still. He decided to return to the planting base immediately and use the communication array to ask what was going on.
But halfway there, the old man suddenly stopped, his eyes growing dazed.
Amidst the rolling thunder and pouring rain, between the deafening crashes and silent stillness, War Chariot seemed to hear something—a voice from a distant place... and a call.
The appearance of the Void Great Maelstrom was not accidental. Its unique space-time structure caused it to gather Steel Shards scattered from the destruction of surrounding worlds. Although most of the excess Steel Shards had been absorbed by the Genesis Maelstrom in the Abyss, this didn't prevent the space-time structure here from continuing to gather and absorb everything in the void, concentrating it in this place.
"What... is this feeling?"
His legs, forged like steel, went weak like an ordinary old man's. War Chariot gasped for breath and fell to his knees. His eyes were hazy, as if staring at something extremely far away. His hands gripped his metal staff tightly, barely supporting himself from falling.
The old man felt as if something was being born deep within his soul... It wasn't someone else—it was himself. A new self, one that could shed this aging body and declining mindset, returning to his prime, his most powerful moment.
He seemed to see a vision: a man bathed in golden radiance, young, powerful, whose every word commanded the world. Standing atop a spiral tower, looking down upon this world.
"...Is that really... me?"
The old man couldn't muster the will to resist. Deep in his soul, resistance was impossible. No one could reject their own thoughts, because they were just thoughts. Thinking was fleeting and chaotic. Everyone might have fantasized about killing someone they hated, changing their own flaws, or even had dark, ghostly thoughts flash through their minds, spreading uncontrollably. But those were just fantasies—as long as they weren't acted upon, they didn't exist.
Ordinary people couldn't resist these fleeting thoughts, and naturally couldn't resist the new self being conceived and born from the depths of their soul.
In the Siberia World, who hadn't fantasized about replacing the supreme being on the throne, standing atop the spiral tower, looking down upon the world?
War Chariot had fantasized about it. It was a thought that had once flashed through his mind, and now that thought was slowly spreading, growing... and then, starting from that point, beginning to spread.
"No!"
But in a daze, whether from a deep-seated sense of crisis or a moment of clarity, War Chariot suddenly clenched his fists and roared, "I absolutely refuse! I will not become a second oppressor!"
"Even if I die, die old in these fields, I will absolutely, absolutely not become a second Fatlervi!"
Struggling to stand up again, War Chariot used his last ounce of strength to reach the agricultural base. With his final shred of energy, he activated the communication array in his office... and then collapsed in front of the console.
...
In his coma, War Chariot felt as if he saw many things.
He saw beasts fighting—wolves lurking in the jungle hunting antlered deer, bears and tigers battling for food in the snowy wilderness. He saw ant columns ceaselessly attacking every living thing they encountered.
He saw powerful magical beasts commanding wind and rain, roaming the jungle. He saw sky-covering behemoths drifting between heaven and earth like floating continents. He saw an ancient Steel Dragon single-handedly causing world changes, restarting the ecosystem and reinitiating the cycle of all things.
He saw many, many things—from tiny fungi to world-transcending behemoths. He saw, in the darkness he had never visited but somehow knew was the void, world-eating behemoths drifting, and immensely powerful Ether Dragons hunting in the nebula layers... That immense power, that vigorous vitality, that energetic existence—all flashed through the old man's thoughts.
That is me.
Free, self-existent, self-sufficient, unrestrained... Life.
A nameless anticipation began to grow in the old man's heart... He started to look forward to and yearn for this kind of life—that carefree existence, free from any responsibility, from having to be responsible for anyone else's future, from holding expectations.
Becoming Fatlervi... becoming an oppressor... didn't seem so unacceptable anymore... As long as I'm happy, everything else is meaningless.
Life's longing for infinite eternal freedom, for unrestrained and unbound existence, is an instinct that can never be eliminated. It is the result of biology itself—a condensation of instincts like survival, reproduction, eating, and curiosity. It is both the source of desire and the driving force of progress.
Though it is merely the driving force of life.
"Wake up, Captain! Wake up!"
And just as he was harboring such expectations, he suddenly heard a tearful call: "Wake up quickly... Wuwuwu, please don't die..."
Somewhat impatiently, War Chariot slightly opened his eyes, observing the person before him through slit-like vision.
It was a woman in white who seemed barely an adult, her face still showing traces of youth. She had smooth, gently glowing long hair. This woman, codenamed 'Iron Wall', was a girl from War Chariot's former squad whom he had always protected and regarded as a daughter. Now, it was she who had awakened the comatose War Chariot by transmitting her own energy.
But War Chariot, who had once regarded Iron Wall as a daughter, always treating her gently, giving her the best resources, and hoping she would grow stronger than himself, now found that the fatherly warmth he once felt for her... had completely disappeared.
Because... there was no need.
Super Lifeforms have no need for offspring or reproduction. They can reproduce, but there's no need. They can form groups, but again, no need. They rely only on themselves to live forever, only on themselves to be free.
Thus, Super Lifeforms don't need companions, offspring, or any superfluous existence. They need no help to achieve 'biological completeness,' completely shedding the desires for survival, eating, and reproduction. They are individuals approaching enlightenment.
I... can become such an individual too.
His sluggish thoughts were filled with irritation. He felt that everything happening around him was meaningless—whether it was Iron Wall and other former squad members' joyful cries upon seeing him awake, the puzzled muttering of a nearby healing superhuman, or the mechanical report of a Soul Puppet assisting in recovery—all of it was pointless.
I don't need you to live well... Stay away from me! Don't have any more contact with me!
Whether it was instinct or his own genuine thought, War Chariot really wanted to shout at these clueless people around him, telling them to get far away. But his body was feverish, he had no strength, and he couldn't speak. The old man could only let Iron Wall tightly embrace him, her wet tears falling on his back.
"Be cautious, Miss Iron Wall. Mr. War Chariot may have contracted a special disease... His physiological condition is very strange—sudden high fever, and some organ mutation. Since Mr. War Chariot has awakened, for the sake of possible contagion, please leave."
From the side, the healing superhuman's voice sounded, tinged with caution. This tone, clearly wary with a hint of fear, inexplicably brought a trace of comfort to War Chariot at this moment.
"Yes, stay away from me... The farther, the better... I don't need anyone's care... Don't come near me anymore..."
Was this instinct, or his true thoughts? War Chariot could no longer analyze. His reason and instinct were merging. His thinking became chaotic, no longer layered. Fulfilling his own desires became the primary purpose of his intelligent existence. A mutation was occurring within War Chariot.
He fell unconscious again, but this time he didn't completely lose awareness. Instead, he keenly perceived everything around him.
Several familiar or unfamiliar voices came through.
"...Quarantine War Chariot. His condition is very strange. We can't identify this disease... And that's the worst news."
"Yes, exactly. We simply can't treat it... The Soul Puppets have also come. They say dissection is needed to understand the truth. We know War Chariot wouldn't mind—it's not fatal, just a treatment method—but the superhumans will never allow the Soul Puppets to dissect one of our own again!"
"But the superhuman ability within War Chariot is growing stronger and stronger. This might just be an abnormal state caused by ability evolution."
"But what if it's a disease? Don't forget, our superhumans' abilities also greatly increase before death... War Chariot, he's old after all..."
"Actually, this should indeed be an infectious disease. Several superhumans who have had contact with War Chariot, former members of his squad, are also showing varying degrees of adverse symptoms. Honestly, this is a major crisis. We can't even identify the transmission mode. I strongly recommend implementing quarantine measures, separating the confirmed uninfected from the suspected infected, and only considering further actions after confirming the latter are safe."
These were all normal, rational thoughts and suggestions. Faced with an unknown infectious disease, quarantine was the simplest and most effective measure. Moreover, ability users could rely on their own strength to live well without depending too much on others.
The doctors continued arguing. They weren't professional medical personnel—they had only received some medical education because their abilities leaned toward healing. Each had different views, unable to reach a consensus.
These are individuals who cannot understand each other...
Though in deep sleep, War Chariot inexplicably showed a meaningful smile. Vaguely, he seemed to find common ground between ability users and his current self: the former possessed a small portion of 'freedom' and 'unrestraint,' while he was about to become the true embodiment of freedom and unrestraint.
Perhaps they were right. This was an evolution—the ultimate evolution of superhumans and ability users, from fragile, incomprehensible individuals to independent Super Lifeforms. This was the truth.