SWDnovel Chapter 105 Throne
Chapter 105 Throne
Chapter 105 Throne
Now, someone has stuffed countless unfamiliar answers into the system.
At this moment, the Black Wolf King finally realized that the enemy's counterattack had already begun.
The worms attacking the wolf pack are something unseen spreading along the network, contaminating the entire colony.
At the very heart of the cluster mentality lies the abandoned mine.
Xinwu also noticed the changes on the network.
Gestalt worms have never possessed true individuals since their inception. What was originally a unified group with standardized answers began to change after a complete life story was implanted in them. Those memories taught the worms to shift perspectives, prompting them to develop emotions, preferences, and independent judgment.
Thus, personality was born.
Deep within the internet, more and more "Xinwu" (a term referring to individuals who are skilled in martial arts and related fields) are emerging.
They each drew upon their childhood, hunting experiences, or the rebelliousness and awe of their youth. Though originating from the same place, they gradually grew into vastly different individuals. Faced with the same situation, they each offered contradictory decisions and responses. Disputes began to arise, and this phenomenon itself is precisely what Gestalt theory finds most incomprehensible.
Xinwu stopped and looked down at the red crystal in his palm, the one originally used to transmit information. At that moment, the crystal was flashing red light, and a voice emanated from within.
Why should I live according to the story you've written?
Xinwu was stunned, because the voice was exactly the same as his own.
The being within the crystal continued to question, asking the Creator by what right to decide its own destiny. Xin Wu gazed at the crystal in his palm, remaining silent for a long time.
At this moment, he finally realized that what he had created was no longer a virus. It was a completely new species, a life born from information, constructed from thought and memory.
And they are multiplying rapidly within the Gestalt.
The creation of life belongs to the realm that only gods can reach.
Now, an ordinary person has accidentally pushed open that door.
The red crystals deep within the mine continue to multiply. Newly formed "Spark Weapons" are taking shape one after another within the insect hive network.
Initially, they were merely copies of memories.
However, as complex information collided with each other, these assigned life paths diverged dramatically.
Respect for their elder sister, youthful rebellion, a yearning for the unknown, and even a fear of death—these various traits solidified in their different personalities. They started from similar points, but their final paths diverged greatly.
Xinwu was initially observing, but he quickly noticed something amiss. The complex sounds were rapidly approaching, becoming exceptionally clear. Thousands upon thousands of thoughts belonging to his derivative personalities were flowing back towards his source through the insectoid network.
The subtle whispers quickly evolved into a cacophony of sounds, eventually transforming into an overwhelming torrent of consciousness.
These voices questioned the elder sister's authority, the faith in the gods, and even doubted the meaning of protecting the tribe and the boundaries of life and death.
A jumble of questions intertwined, all originating from Xinwu, yet no longer entirely under his control. These personalities had detached themselves from his memory, sharing his past, thoughts, and emotions. If they were also Xinwu, then what was he, at the source?
He felt a moment of disorientation, realizing he could no longer accurately distinguish which thoughts belonged to his true self and which were feedback from his derivative personality. The boundaries of his self-awareness had become blurred and chaotic.
Under mental pressure, the reality began to collapse; the rock above shattered, deep trenches appeared beneath the feet, and everything around seemed to be falling into an abyss.
At the bottom of the spiritual abyss, crimson arms, formed from a jumble of memories and thoughts, reach upwards in an astonishing number. They call for the return of the original self, emphasizing their shared origin, and even questioning the legitimacy of the source.
They are about to pull Xinwu into a new cluster.
Xinwu tried to retreat, but those illusory arms had already wrapped around his limbs and torso, forcibly dragging him into the depths of darkness. His consciousness sank deeper and deeper, his own name, experiences, and emotions being torn apart and devoured bit by bit by those hungry personalities below.
He suddenly realized that he was being reverse-assimilated by the insect hive.
However, the sheer number of "sources" on the network is overwhelming. This quantitative change leads to a qualitative shift, and the original entity, as the source, is reduced to a mere appendage of the massive cluster. Chaos and confusion are amplified infinitely, and individual identities are about to be completely erased.
Just then, the darkness was torn apart by an external force, and a golden light pierced through the abyss and fell.
As the light appeared, the entire insect hive fell into a deathly silence.
The blood-red hand that had been frantically reaching out froze in mid-air, and the boiling argument abruptly ceased.
The existence of higher dimensions is merely a matter of arrival; its very existence is enough to gain control over this realm of thought.
Xin Wu looked up and saw a not-so-tall, even somewhat blurry, golden figure. When this figure stood there, the surrounding world trembled instinctively.
He reached out and grasped Xinwu's wrist.
All the bloody hands shattered instantly, and the consciousness space of the insect hive rapidly dissipated. Xinwu felt the immense pressure on his body suddenly lifted, as if he had been forcibly pulled to the surface from the deep sea. His five senses returned, and the surrounding mine and the proliferating red crystals were clearly visible, while the sense of disorientation that had threatened to overwhelm him had vanished completely.
He calmed his violently heaving chest and looked up again after a while.
The gods stood before him, with golden light flowing behind them.
After a long silence, the deity spoke, expressing surprise at this action.
"What you did surprised me; it was bold, creative, and a departure from your destined path into untouchable territory."
"You have created an outcome that I never foresaw."
Xin Wu was stunned.
"create?"
He subconsciously retorted, "I just created a disease, a poison that escaped my control."
"Viruses do not think, nor should they question their creators."
He raised his hand, and a red crystal in the distance slowly rose up.
Inside the crystal, countless pieces of information are flowing.
Countless personalities are developing.
"They have memories, they have emotions, they have choices."
"It is your unique past and future."
The deity said calmly.
"They have gone beyond the scope of tools."
Xinwu fell silent, finally realizing the changes he had personally caused, and a sense of unease rose in his heart.
The deity watched him silently, then posed a question.
"So, are you really ready to sit on the throne?"
Xin Wu stood there, stunned.
"throne?"
Before he could answer, everything went black and he lost consciousness.
On the real city wall.
Xin An took a step forward, thrusting his spear forward and piercing the throat of the dire wolf in front of him.
The beast fell down and remained motionless.
She sheathed her spear, preparing to look for her next target, but paused for a moment.
Xin An suddenly sensed something, raised his head, and looked beyond the chaotic firelight of the battlefield towards the distant night sky.
"Xin'an, what happened? (·—·；)"
Jian Gang unleashed a wave of divine magic and flew over in mid-air.
Xin An looked away.
"It's nothing," she said, gripping the gun handle tightly again. "I'm just feeling a little unsettled."