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Chapter 1647 The Final Chapter IV "The Guiding Lighthouse in the OE Universe (3)"

Chapter 1647 The Endgame Part 4: "OE: The Guiding Lighthouse in the Universe (3)"

Lun Xue passed away in World Game in May 2026, the exact date is unknown.

Boris died in World Game in May 2026, the exact date is unknown.

Lu died during the White Pagoda Incident, on September 28, 2028.

Luna passed away on December 27, 2028.

Aini passed away on January 8, 2029, during the White Tower Incident reconciliation.

Zhaoyuan died during the invasion...

……

Su Ming'an passed away on the day of God's fall, December 31, 2118.

……

In 2120, Gesang Gyatso passed away at the age of 102.

In 2121, Xiao Xiao passed away at the age of 118.

In 2122, Yang Changxu passed away at the age of 127.

Mo Yan passed away in 2126 at the age of 121.

In 2127, Yu Ruohe passed away at the age of 126.

In 2128, Su Shi passed away...

In 2129, Violet passed away...

In 2133, Higurashi Osamu passed away...

In 2134, Alawuddin died...

In 2135, Ryan passed away...

On March 8, 2150, with the death of Yamada Machiichi due to the exhaustion of his soul, the last batch of well-known players from the World Game era all departed.

It is said that when Yamada Machiichi was alive, he would sit on a church bench for a long time.

He was waiting for two people. He'd heard that one of them always spoke gently, had blue hair and blue eyes, and his smile wasn't scary at all. The other would casually say something like "chatting," and then suddenly appear in front of him, startling him and throwing him into a state of emotional disarray.

So he would sit on the church benches and wait for them to come home.

But in the end, no one came.

There was never anyone in front of the old man holding the sketchbook.

Until one morning when the nuns cleaning the church found him sleeping peacefully and without a sound, amidst the blooming white lilies. His head drooped, a smile playing on his lips, as if he were biting into a steaming takoyaki on a street where cherry blossoms were fluttering in the air.

……

Su Ming'an, Lu, Yamada-cho I, Bei Wang, Luna, Isabella, Lin Yin, Aini, Boris, Alger, Zhao Yuan, Yi Song, Lun Xue, Eleven, Qin Si.

Of the final fifteen-person team, only Bei Wang and Yi Song remained.

In the final peak alliance, only Bei Wang remained.

The "Day of God's Fall" is like a storm that sweeps across the soul, washing away all the knowledge, resentment, and confusion of the old era.

No grand monuments stand on Mount Taihua. Instead, there is a crater resembling a giant scar. The crystalline remains of the World Tree after its collapse have been preserved in their original state, and in the center of the crater sits a silent piano.

There were no ornate decorations, no laudatory inscriptions, only the echoes of the wind blowing through the crystals. People spontaneously came here to stand in silence and mourn.

At the highest point of the world's hub, a pure white clock tower was built. The bell tolls once at dawn and once at dusk, its sound echoing throughout the newly formed city. Whenever the bell rings, people involuntarily fall silent for a moment.

Dawn is not easy to come by.

Meyani devoted all her energy to building a new world and protecting children. She would often tell children the story of "a hero long ago," but she never mentioned Su Ming'an's name, only describing the spring he brought.

In 2135, Meyani went into seclusion and retired.

Yi Song burned Su Ming'an's medical records and became unpredictable. No one knew what he was doing all day, and soon, no one saw him anymore.

In 2139, Yi Song disappeared completely.

After a long struggle, Mizushima Sora chose a path of asceticism. She left the center of power and became a "scavenger" wandering the borderlands. She no longer sought answers, but instead devoted herself to constant self-cultivation, trying to use the long, numbing time to cover up the struggle in her heart.

In 2142, Mizushima Kawa ascended to a new dimension and departed.

Lu Shu almost never stepped into the pit of the World Tree. He took over Kelsar's place and silently guarded this world. When no one was around, Lu Shu would gaze at old photographs for a long time or stroke his completed notes.

He often fell into a dreamlike state where he couldn't distinguish between reality and illusion, and life seemed to stop flowing at that moment.

He was met with praise wherever he went, people lauded him for fulfilling the divine deity's final instructions, and looked at him with admiration. But only he remembered the sensation of his own hands piercing flesh, the blade feeling like his skin, the cut like his heart.

—No, no, stop looking at me with such longing.

Don't glorify my actions as "sending away a god" in textbooks. I simply killed him, nothing more.

I am not one of the saviors you speak of; I am an executioner.

That cruel person made him end it all with his own hands; he lived the rest of his life in that day. Perhaps that person's initial intention was for him to say goodbye to three good people, end his dependence, and become independent and free. He succeeded; he became a complete Lü Shu, but he could never escape that day.

He often couldn't distinguish between morning and night; time flew by, and he couldn't remember what happened yesterday or today.

He often sat under the lamp and looked at past images, sometimes for an entire night.

He often craved sleep, for only in sleep could he see his old friends. If he fell asleep and never woke up, he would not see the empty room when he awoke.

Occasionally, he would "bump into" his companions. In some corner of the city, just as Yamada Machiichi had experienced, a "virtual scene" from another world line would suddenly unfold. It might be a street with cherry blossoms falling, a sun-drenched beach, or a quiet library... and often, the blurry and serene figure of that black-haired youth would appear, sometimes smiling, sometimes deep in thought, sometimes simply walking quietly.

These illusions are not real; they merely remind people that, amidst countless possibilities, in the expectations of hundreds of thousands of creators, in some perfectly written world, he deserves such peaceful and happy times.

Whenever such a dream appears, the people around will spontaneously quiet down and stop to stare, as if afraid of disturbing a fragile dream.

Some people will record the image of the young man, as if he were still alive, living in some parallel world they have imagined.

He, they, his companions, and the past.

—Like sand slipping through your fingers, you can neither hold onto it nor let it go.

One day in 2144, Lü Shu fell into a hallucination again. Like a dying old man, he struggled to raise his hand, trying to grab onto something.

Then, he saw the small figure.

It's Xiao Lü.

Perhaps because Rosa's memory was too vivid, he saw Xiao Lü, an illusory Xiao Lü sitting beside him, as leaves fell one by one from the hillside.

"Why are you here all alone?" Xiao Lü looked up, revealing a pure smile.

“They’re all gone…” Lu Shu murmured, slowly burying his head in his knees.

"Not a single one is left."

"Not a single one was left."

Let him remain on this planet, an empty "hero" revered by thousands.

To create a "sculpture" that will be worshipped by thousands, representing the glorious history of human struggle.

The saviors of yesteryear have been transformed into statues and monuments, but he alone is a living person who appears "lifelike" in people's eyes, like a living god.

"Who are you waiting for?" Xiao Lü asked.

Lu Shu fell silent and shook his head.

He knew he couldn't wait any longer; he would never wait a lifetime.

"Do you think he did the right thing?" Xiao Lü asked.

Although Xiao Lü didn't say who "he" was, both of them knew perfectly well.

Lu Shu opened his mouth as if to say something, but then gently closed it again.

In his half-dreaming, half-awake state, he would recall the way those people stood under the tree, smiling at him. Pure white, sacred, radiant. Like feathers, like white camellias, like butterflies brushing against his heart.

So this is how the story ends.

Countless flowers, countless moments of happiness and contentment, yet my heart remains so desolate.

...The dead are all content, while the living are empty and miserable.

"So do you think he did something wrong?" Xiao Lü tilted his head, and the two sat quietly on the hillside, with a bustling city in the distance, its chimneys emitting wisps of smoke.

"……Correct."

"Did he do the right thing?" Xiao Lü tilted his head.

"……wrong."

Like a mischievous child, Lü Shu repeatedly corrected Xiao Lü's words, muttering and bewildered, not even knowing what he was denying.

"I understand." Xiao Lü's eyes lit up, as if he had finally come to the right answer. He grabbed Lü Shu's collar and shouted, "You just think he's stupid!"

You just think he's stupid—you just think he's stupid—you just think he's stupid!!!

These words seemed to echo in my ears, and I couldn't hear anything else.

"Silly...?" Lu Shu was bewildered and tilted his head, like a naive child.

It seems so. Actually, that person did something too right, too perfect, and was very smart, so why does he seem stupid?

He was so clever that he fooled the whole world. But he was also so foolish; didn't he realize how much pain those who were abandoned would suffer? He did, but he still did it anyway.

He was so foolish, and Lu Shu, who trusted him so much, was also incredibly foolish. But if you were to say it wasn't worth it, Lu Shu would be the first to disagree.

"...He's a complete idiot."

A moment later, the white-haired youth slowly shed tears.

"We're a bunch of idiots."

"...This world is a complete idiot."

Lu Shu murmured, his voice as dry as rubbing sand. He repeated incoherent words as if confirming some absurd truth.

A gentle breeze swept across the hillside, bringing with it an air filled with the scent of flowers and grass.

Xiao Lü still tilted her head, her overly pure eyes seeming to see through all illusions, and gently asked, "So... are you happy now?"

Happy?

Lu Shu opened his mouth, wanting to say "happy," because the world had indeed become a better place, just as that person had wished; wanting to say "satisfied," because everyone had been redeemed. But his throat felt blocked, and he couldn't make a sound. A scalding liquid welled up in his eyes without warning, sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the newly sprouted grass beneath him, leaving dark stains.

He froze, then raised his hand somewhat blankly to touch the cold, wet surface.

...They are tears.

He then realized that he was crying.

So, he could still cry. In those years that seemed frozen in time, he thought he had long since dried up like those treasured objects, becoming a lifeless specimen. He played the role of the perfect successor, walking in the bright new world, receiving the admiration of everyone, yet he was like an amber that had long been hollowed out, devoid of life.

But the tears were real, burning hot, showing that his heart was still beating and still aching.

He remembered that a few days earlier, he had passed under the bridge where he had lived when he was a child.

In the old days, countless homeless children huddled under that bridge, where they suffered hunger and cold, and helplessly watched their lives slip away.

Now, the archway still stands, but the shivering figures inside are gone. Instead, there are murals painted by children playing with crayons. Warm sunlight streams into the archway, and instead of tattered bedding, brightly colored toys are piled up inside. In the distance, the relief station's flag flutters in the wind.

With abundant resources, basic needs for food and clothing were met. Although social classes still existed, there were no more "Lu Shu" trees under the bridge.

This correct outcome, achieved at the cost of enormous sacrifice, is like a flawless mirror, clearly reflecting his self-perceived "despicable" selfishness—that Su Ming'an was right.

He had no reason to stop Su Ming'an from doing what he did at the time.

"Ha ha……"

Xiao Lü, who was standing next to him, suddenly burst out laughing.

He laughed and cried at the same time, slapping the grass hard with his palms and punching away the flying dirt.

"Admit it, Brother Tree!"

"We're all fools, complete fools!!!"

His youthful face aged in an instant, and a hundred years later, the young master of yesteryear has become an old man.

"Su Ming'an is a fool! Lu is a fool! Aini is a fool! Noel is a fool! You're a fool too! — A bunch of smart idiots have become fools for their own ideals! This is simply the funniest thing in the world!!!"

As if a switch had been flipped, looking at the bridge arch bathed in warm sunlight, Lü Shu let out a sound that was both laughing and crying.

At first, his voice was suppressed and intermittent, but then it grew louder and louder, his shoulders trembled violently, and his tears flowed even more fiercely. He laughed and cried at the same time, like a night watchman who had finally gone mad and collapsed at the dawn.

He threw his head back and burst into a devastating laugh, his voice hoarse and unpleasant, like being cut by a knife.

...Fools, fools, all fools!

For this ray of dawn... for today's sunrise... for those children scribbling in the underpass... for the innocent smiles of countless future generations of children... we've all become fools!

Xiao Lü giggled, mimicking his manner, and haphazardly wiped away the tears welling up in her eyes with her clothes and palms.

On a deserted hillside, facing the bustling city in the distance, the two people, like two most innocent children, laughed wildly while shedding tears.

"Boom."

Suddenly, Lü Shu bent down, picked up a smooth pebble from the ground, and with all his might threw it toward the deserted hillside in the distance.

The pebble traced a futile arc through the air and landed in the distant grass without causing any echo.

Xiao Lü also picked up a pebble and, imitating him, threw it forcefully, as if tossing a coin into a wishing well.

"Boom, boom, boom."

Two fools stood on the hillside, in the gradually setting twilight, tirelessly tossing stones one after another, like puppets performing a repetitive cycle, laughing as they threw them.

It's as if by simply throwing it away, one can return those selfless acts of love to their rightful owner.

It's as if by just laughing out loud, one can stop being a fool.

They threw it piece by piece, venting their unbearable pain and tossing away their unanswered longings, as if calling out to a phantom of the past—just like in the ancient legends of long, long ago, monkeys futilely tried to retrieve the moon from the water.

"Bang, bang, bang."

The white-haired night watchman searched, but the water was empty.

Stubborn fool, he kept laughing and he kept crying, but there was nothing in the water.

……

But there was nothing in the water.

……