Volume 4: Twilight Galaxy
“Maybe it’s an ability unique to the StarPlay family. Other than that, I can’t think of any other possibility. Meng Muyu’s landing location might have had issues; he just so happened to land in Zhu Si City and somehow became a priest due to a series of coincidences or circumstances beyond his control,” the fluffy ball of fur muttered, tugging at its whiskers.
Lie Yang shook his head. “That’s not right. If Meng Muyu had this kind of ability, then when he was developing “Dusk of the Galaxy”, he wouldn’t have been repeatedly thrown out of the game world by the world consciousness.”
Ye Jian chimed in. “Maybe he’s more cautious now, or maybe there are other reasons.”
The real reason was clearly impossible to deduce from the clues they had, and it seemed they couldn’t get in touch with Meng Muyu for now either. All they could do was quietly gather information in Zhu Si City while waiting. After discussing their next steps and assigning tasks, the sky outside had darkened, and they each returned to their rooms.
Shu Xun sat chubby and round on the table, stroking his whiskers while deep in thought. Ye Jian sat quietly beside him, not interrupting.
After a long while, the ball of fur paused its whisker-stroking. “I’m heading out tonight.”
Ye Jian, as if expecting this, replied, “I’ll go with you.”
Shu Xun pondered for a moment, tugging at his whiskers again, and finally nodded.
As night fell, the scene in Zhu Si City wasn’t much different from other cities. After the sunlight faded, apart from the patrolling Judicator troops, there were almost no pedestrians on the streets. The invaders had no physical form, appearing as shadow-like black matter, which was probably why the native inhabitants of the Twilight Galaxy seldom ventured out at night, hoping to avoid being possessed.
Amidst the vast city, one area stood out brightly in the dark—the most important structure at the city’s center: The Main Temple. This sacred place, dedicated to the priests, glowed with a soft, brilliant light that bathed the entire building. At the top of the pure white structure, a radiant, gentle white glow formed, enveloping the entire temple. This glow emitted energy waves similar to the holy light of Qi Yu City, though much stronger.
Shu Xun and Ye Jian hid in the shadows of a nearby building to avoid being touched by the rays of the sacred light.
The fluffy ball of fur spread its paws helplessly. “I oversimplified things. No wonder Meng Muyu is being so cautious; it seems this temple isn’t so easy to infiltrate.” Shu Xun had planned to sneak into the temple under the cover of night to search for information about the Twilight Clan and any signs from the world consciousness, but he had forgotten that this world was no less advanced than the interstellar era.
The temple was bathed in the eternal, undying light of baptism. Anything entering would have nowhere to hide. Even the slightest anomaly would incur divine retribution from the world consciousness. Just as the two were about to turn and leave, several figures in white priestly robes passed by, their silhouettes quickly concealed by the temple buildings. But Ye Jian and Shu Xun had already recognized the person leading them—it was Meng Muyu.
Meng Muyu’s appearance was nothing short of exceptional, even perfect. Clad in white priestly robes, he seemed worlds apart from the talkative man they knew—now cold, elegant, ethereal, and otherworldly. What stood out even more was the powerful aura he exuded, as if he were the ruler of his own domain. The energy that radiated from him created an aura around him, highlighting his immense power.
Even after Meng Muyu’s figure disappeared entirely into the building, Ye Jian and Shu Xun remained silent for a long time. The reason was simple: at that moment, they both realized, perhaps for the first time, that they had never truly known Meng Muyu, the man who had created miracles in the interstellar era.
Meng Muyu becoming a priest could still be explained as a coincidence, but the powerful energy radiating from him was unexplainable. As Lie Yang had said, the Twilight Clan weren’t fools. They might have mistaken Meng Muyu for one of their own, but it was impossible for them to confuse him with the supreme and sacred priest.
However, just moments ago, Shu Xun and Ye Jian understood why Meng Muyu could become a priest. Even the native inhabitants likely couldn’t match Meng Muyu’s immense power of faith.
After a long while, Shu Xun and Ye Jian left the Main Temple in silence, having achieved nothing. They didn’t share the fact that they had seen Meng Muyu with the others because as long as they stayed there, it was only a matter of time before they ran into him. Moreover, Zhu Si City had been urgently summoning priests lately, which indicated that something big was about to happen soon. This event was very likely tied to a premonition from the world consciousness.
In the following days, Shu Xun and his group followed their initial plan, each searching for any useful clues. Lie Yang and the others also encountered Meng Muyu one after another, and unsurprisingly, they all fell into a contemplative silence. The confusion wasn’t just about why Meng Muyu had become a powerful Twilight Clan priest, but also about his true motives. As time passed, they all began to feel that Meng Muyu’s goal wasn’t to clear the game. It seemed he had his own purpose—he had entered the Zhu Si Temple as a priest in search of something different from everyone else.
Over the next few days, aside from becoming more familiar with Zhu Si City, the group found no valuable leads or information. The city’s defenses were far more thorough than they had anticipated, which made sense considering the highly intelligent invaders. Naturally, the Twilight Clan needed stronger protective measures, especially when it came to their secrets and the information about the living gods they worshipped.
In addition, they encountered many other players like themselves. Since there were no conflicts of interest, they had little interaction with these players. As for the invaders, they were nowhere to be seen, lacking physical forms. Without the aid of the baptism light, detecting them was nearly impossible.
For the moment, all their investigations had hit a dead end. The entire situation was as calm and still as the surface of a tranquil sea, with no ripples and no signs of weakness.
During dinner, everyone’s appetite was subdued except for Xing Kong, who continued to eat heartily. Lie Yang’s antennae drooped as his expression darkened. After a long silence, he let out a deep sigh. “Entering Twilight Galaxy was supposed to be the final step toward uncovering the truth. Instead, it feels like the people we once knew have suddenly become shrouded in fog, and we can’t see them clearly anymore. Shu Xun, do you have any thoughts? We’ve made no progress these past few days and it’s starting to frustrate me.”
The fluffy ball of fur set down the bread it had been nibbling on. “No need to be frustrated. When things hit a bottleneck, it usually means the answers aren’t far off. You’ve been focusing all your attention on Meng Muyu. Haven’t you noticed that the temperature has been gradually dropping these past few days and the sunlight is fading?”
Lie Yang was stunned. He instinctively turned to look out the window, but it was already dark, with no sunlight in sight. He carefully sensed the temperature around him, and indeed, as Shu Xun had said, the nights in Zhu Si City had become cooler compared to just a few days ago. His antennae shot up as his brow furrowed. “Are you saying that the Twilight Galaxy is dying?”
Shu Xun nodded. “The dusk of the galaxy is approaching!”
Xing Kong’s eating motion paused for a moment. Over the past few days, Shu Xun and the others had explained the situation to him, including the imminent end. Xing Kong’s reaction, or rather, lack of reaction, was like that of Qing Kong—they both seemed to have lost any attachment to this world. However, Xing Kong didn’t make any decision to leave and continued to stay with Shu Xun’s group in Zhu Si City. His clear, glass-like eyes remained calm. The brief pause in his actions lasted only a moment before he resumed eating.
Ye Jian raised his hand to smooth the fur of the fluffy little ball and said in his usual cold voice, “Beneath this extreme calm hides a storm of chaos. The native inhabitants, invaders, transformed, and game players—all these forces are maintaining a delicate balance due to their fear of the world consciousness. But as the end approaches, the world consciousness will inevitably stir, perhaps even take certain actions. And that is the opportunity for the invaders. Once a single point of balance is broken, all will collapse instantly. With the dusk of the galaxy, there will be no peace until one side is annihilated.”
The furball, whose fur was being stroked, squinted its eyes contentedly, then relaxed its paws, released the bread it had been holding, and gradually sprawled out flat on the table like a pancake.
Lie Yang, who had just managed to summon his fighting spirit: “…”
Gray also paused, stumbling over his words, “Before the upheaval… there… will be… ripples…”
Ye Jian nodded in agreement, and Lie Yang seemed to be lost in thought. But suddenly, Xing Kong spoke up, “If I leave, could I fit into your living environment?”
The soft snoring on the table halted, and everyone instinctively turned their gaze toward Xing Kong’s shadow. In the light, Xing Kong’s shadow showed no unusual signs, but they all knew that within that black shadow lurked an invader with an incredibly high spiritual power, something they had no means of dealing with.
Xing Kong’s eyes were clear. “I don’t want to be alone. Can I live with you all?”
No one could provide an answer, not even Shu Xun. He couldn’t risk the safety of other citizens in the interstellar era just to satisfy his own sense of kindness. He had once thought of trying to separate the invader from Xing Kong’s shadow, but without the baptism light, he couldn’t even see the invader. This made Shu Xun realize that the invaders were far stronger than they had originally estimated.
Just as everyone was lost in silence and Xing Kong’s eyes were about to dim, something suddenly shifted within his shadow. Startled, everyone tensed. After spending so much time with Xing Kong, the invader had never made any movement, leading them to almost forget its presence. But now, it chose this moment to act.
The black, shadow-like substance slowly spread, its movements very gradual and without any sign of aggression, which slightly eased the group’s vigilance. The room was deathly quiet, so silent that not even a breath could be heard. All eyes were fixed on the floor.
The black substance spread like fine sand, slowly dispersing and then gathering again. The group quickly realized that the invader was trying to write—it wanted to communicate something!
Sure enough, the black substance dispersed and then condensed, forming words in the common language of the interstellar era! Even before understanding the meaning of the writing, just seeing those familiar characters made everyone’s hair stand on end. Shu Xun and the others could communicate with Xing Kong thanks to the language system pre-loaded into the game, so they normally spoke in the language of the Twilight Clan.
Seeing these familiar characters on the ground left everyone bewildered. What exactly was the invader? How could it know the universal language of the interstellar era? With such high spiritual power, how had it ended up without a physical form? And why did it have to reside in the shadow of a Twilight Clan?
The words on the ground gradually came together, forming a full paragraph. The clear, neat handwriting even carried a unique elegance, with each stroke exuding a sense of strength:
I beg of you, grant him his wish. I am willing to remain forever hidden in the shadow. As long as he lives, I shall remain. Should he die, I will guard his grave until the end of time and space. I will use the shadow as my prison, never to leave even an inch, never to attack, and never to move without cause.
