# 567
Chapter 568: The Ceiling’s Dilemma
Elsewhere.
Beep-beep-beep—!
An electric scooter tore across the surging sea, smashing head-on through several waves. Spray rained onto a bright-yellow helmet, trickled down the corners of a windbreaker, and dripped back into the brine.
The headlight flickered and died.
Water in the lamp.
Lu Wuwei frowned. A weird orange glow pulsed from his palm as he slapped the dashboard; the light sputtered back to life, carving a bright path through the gloom.
Overhead, a woman in sheer white gauze stood on a cloud, frowning at the slow food-delivery rider weaving through the swells.
Nut, Sky-Goddess of the Egyptian Ennead.
“What the hell…?” she muttered.
She hesitated, then spread her arms. Wind snapped her gauze; she whispered, and a mysterious law rippled outward.
On the sea, Lu Wuwei sensed something and twisted the throttle to the stop!
The scooter crept along at a steadfast 40 km/h through the heaving waves.
A flash of white swept the water beneath him—
Whoosh—!!
Suddenly the world flipped. When he came to, the sea was gone; beneath him stretched pure blue sky… and endless air.
He was upside-down, scooter wheels spinning freely, zero forward motion. Weightlessness seized him; the next instant man and machine plummeted from the heavens!
Wind howled, nearly ripping off his helmet. Calmly he reached into the dashboard.
A few seconds later he pulled out a tiny yellow duck—sunglasses, thick gold chain, coin-sized plastic propeller on its head. Unlike the market-stall toys, this one wore a smug little smirk.
Lu Wuwei slapped the duck onto his helmet with a pop.
Then he stuck a second duck on the handlebar.
High above, the propellers whirred—and rider and scooter hung motionless in mid-air.
He gave the throttle a twist; the scooter drifted lazily toward the sky-goddess on her cloud. (Not that the wheels mattered up here, but twisting felt better.)
Nut stared, frozen.
…
Black clouds rolled.
A drizzle began, pattering onto the tossing waves.
Guan Zai, plaid shirt and duck-bill cap, looked up at the falling drops. A single bead drifted toward him—
Sss!
He spun aside. The drop missed him, struck the sea—and burned a neat round hole that stayed fixed while water surged around it, as though nailed to the ocean.
Guan Zai’s brow knitted.
Pitter-patter…
The rain thickened. Holes riddled the surface; the sea looked like battered earth, every drop a bullet. He dodged, but several struck his cap, smoking, leaving perfect perforations.
High above, a half-formed figure of flowing water appeared.
Tefnut, Rain-Goddess of the Ennead.
The downpour grew until nowhere was safe. More holes peppered his clothes. He drew a slow breath; faint light glimmered in his eyes.
Fingers drummed the air.
Green characters blossomed in the void—lines of code cascading like a giant screen. His pupils vibrated.
Two seconds later the flood of symbols vanished, replaced by blinking text:
“Filtering liquids 0.5 mg–5 g… complete.”
“Physics engine modifying…”
“Modification finished. 34,172 targets captured; gravity vector reversed.”
Whoosh!
Every raindrop and splash within ten kilometres froze, then began to rise—an upside-down deluge climbing skyward.
Tefnut’s eyes widened in disbelief, but the water was still hers; with a tap she locked it mid-air.
Just then a speeding carriage burst into the hanging curtain of rain. An illusory Chinese courtyard unfolded from the coach, swallowing every drop into its Mindscape and vanishing.
Guan Zai blinked. “Why’s the old man here? What happened to his opponent?” he muttered.
…
Inside the carriage.
Master Chen sat behind a tea table, cup in hand, cold sweat beading his temple as he faced the slim girl in cyan.
“Nervous?” she smiled. “Afraid? Let me guess—you never thought I’d stroll straight through your absolute defense?”
Isis, Goddess of Life of the Egyptian Ennead.