Welcome to Rewind World Game

Year 827 of the Old Days, February 7th, 13:00, everyone knew their assigned tasks.

Year 827 of the Old Days, February 7th, 20:00, the world broadcast started, and a gentle male voice sounded across the world. Upon hearing the voice, people paused in their tracks.

"Everyone, it's been a long time... no, it should be..." The voice carried a hint of laughter:

"Nice to meet you for the first time."

"I am the Old God... Su Ming'an. This is an announcement for the final battle."

"In the timeline that you have not yet perceived, we have met, interacted, worked together, even fought side-by-side or became enemies."

"Walking all the way till now, I have seen your various appearances, but all of that has been buried at the yet-to-arrive end of causality."

Human Self-Rescue Alliance, Li Yuxuan raised his head, listening to the voice of the deity from the firmament. Despite not knowing the memories of past lives, he found it very familiar.

"The efforts of all of you, I have been watching, remembering, even experiencing. Maybe you yourselves are unaware of the great things you will accomplish in the future, or perhaps you are still ordinary individuals now, but my eyes have already remembered... your endless 'potential possibilities' for the future."

"Your sacrifices and contributions... I will remember as a monument. Even if 'you' were never preserved in the real timeline, even if 'your' existence has turned into void."

City Guardian Department, a cloaked person slightly raised his chin, straightened the portraits of Su Shize and Tang. The tombstone in the backyard was engraved with the words [IN YOUR EYES], with flowers blooming.

"If I were one of you, if I too were divided into countless 'possibilities,' maybe I would be one of the top hundred vloggers, maybe an ordinary university student, maybe I would grow old with white hair. During this period, millions of possibilities would blossom like flowers on us, millions of futures would unfold and perform on us. What decides our future... is never just external forces, but 'ourselves.'"

Central Research Institute, Little Li was cleaning the dusty room, where a violin and a piano leaned together crookedly in the corner, engraved with the names [LIXIAN SU] and [YUZI LIN].

"I once met a young man. In one possibility, he would fall into the lake. In another, he would perish in Nine Serenities. But maybe there's a happier possibility... he still happily lives to this day and will become a useful person in the future. I sincerely bless him... to have a future with infinite possibilities."

Su Wensheng buried his head in writing, the high school sprint exam papers on his desk filled with answers. He set down his pen and quietly watched, while campus Da Ju dozed off outside the window.

"I also once met a young girl who was tormented a millennium ago, even on the verge of a breakdown, locking herself in the room. But now, I see her immensely happy, with a bright future and serene years ahead."

Su Luoluo, busy editing videos, looked up, and the antidepressants and Roseblood on her desk had been untouched for a long time. She rested her chin on her hand, gazing out the window, no longer seeing the dancing seven-colored angel during her episodes.

At this moment, God seemed to let out a gentle laugh.

"...In this world of indistinguishable causality, every action of ours could be the 'cause' that starts everything or the 'effect' that concludes past events. Every direction we walk towards could be our brand new 'future' or the 'stalemate' that has played out countless times."

"Cycles of causality, good and evil in a thought, like oceans, like fields."

Your 'possibility' may be built upon your own death, may be built upon your sacrifice on one timeline, may be built upon countless painful corpses of 'yourself'— you are 'one,' yet also 'ten thousand.'

"On thousands of timelines, one of your actions might have killed 'you,' or might have saved 'you.'

"Projection, mapping, superimposition, intersection, stirring, closure."

"—Maybe, you are the Jesus who saved 'yourself,' or the Decider who strikes 'yourself' with a knife."

"—Maybe, you are the doctor dedicated to curing illnesses in the past, and the patient who receives the medicine developed by 'yourself' in the future."

"—Maybe, you are the vibrant million lives of this era, and the millions of piled 'yourself' corpses in other timelines."

"You are the luckiest... that kind of 'effect.'

"How many crises does a civilization face in its development. Yet each time, humanity can move forward together, united in will, overcoming dangers together."

"No matter how long you navigate in these myriad ages, no matter how long you drift, whether you set sail or return home - we have finally stumbled to the end."

"Here on this Solitary Island, I hold a constantly shining torch, waiting for you."

Year 827 of the Old Days, February 7th, YMS (Union Government) declares entry into emergency wartime mode, prohibiting nighttime and international travel, adopting the oxygen circulation system and ecosystem from the World Association, prohibiting everyone from approaching the Black Mist.

The 'Rule Book' has so far been printed in millions, distributed to every household. Everyone must study the contents of the book thoroughly to prevent triggering the Instant Death Rule. Henceforth, the Instant Death Rule will no longer be the primary crisis taking our lives.

The five Dream Patrol games have been completed; humanity's efforts have reached their utmost. Thanks to all who fought in the Dream Tour, all entertainment hosts, all the dedicated logistics workers, all the viewers providing information on forums... Next, please keep striving to ensure more Dream Tour Spirit Points are born."

"Currently, the progress of Black Mist coverage stands at 86%. The military's ten corps have stationed at the front line of the Black Mist, seeking not to dispel, but to stabilize."

"The critical destiny nodes are near, deities have unlocked the sealed history. All can log into the forum again to review matters related to the 'Millennium Plan' based on their permissions."

At this point, God paused for a moment.

Wang Mingming and Han Han, who were tomb-sweeping for their family, looked up at the beautiful celestial stars.

God's voice was so gentle that it brought them close to tears.

He said words that were incredibly astonishing and shocking to everyone:

"It's worth mentioning... with the arrival of the decisive moment, deities no longer need to conceal history. I will fulfill my promise to unseal the observatory, unseal the art museum... unseal music, drama, literature, and art. Unseal all that should be unsealed, release all that should be free. After overcoming the crisis, you can become free artists, musicians, writers, astronomers... whatever you wish."

"The starry sky is truly beautiful, and the singing is moving."

"If the Ark successfully reaches the other shore... let us go see it together."

The star badge from the observatory in front of the graves shimmered with golden light.

Wang Mingming suddenly knelt down, hugging the tombstone, and cried out loud. Han Han patted his back, silently comforting him.

In this story that spans a thousand years, not everyone's sacrifice possesses earth-shattering value. Their deaths might just be due to the misguided anger of the Holy Alliance Army, due to the deity's uncontrollable oversight, or due to misunderstandings caused by undelivered information. Not every death is as grand and epic as the Nine Thrones. Some deaths even seem insignificant, having little to no impact on the bigger picture.

But it isn't ridiculous, nor laughable... because that's reality.

Death is merely death, with nothing to praise or glorify, dead means dead, nothing remains, nothing is left. Even a slip while stepping outside can cause death.

What truly deserves praise is the meaning behind death—what kind of will they hold dear in their hearts as they die, what kind of unyielding ideal they think of during their demise, or maybe even thinking about something or someone before death. Even if they weren't ready when death came or their deaths held no meaning, it remains worthy of respect."

"Next, I will inform everyone of part of the Millennium Plan, please listen carefully..." Su Ming'an narrated.

With a click, the pen in Wang Xingkai's hand fell to the ground, and he shockingly looked out at the sky through the window:

"So the Millennium Plan that Su Xiaobai scribbled on the paper... really exists..."

The classroom instantly fell into chaos.

"Then the significance of the special medicine Su Xiaobai mentioned before..."

"The meaning of the ten thousand timelines that Su Xiaobai wrote on the manuscript..."

"And the nature of the Dream Patrol game... it can't be..."

Old Jiang stared in shock at the empty seat, and suddenly, as if realizing something, she quickly dashed to the office and pulled out every paper that Su Xiaobai had written, reporting those seemingly nonsensical answers to the military.

In the past, they only treated these as jokes, but now, at the moment when the millennium officially arrives—the jokes have gained meaning.

"Su Xiaobai... what kind of person is he really?" Tao Meng murmured to herself.

She looked at the empty spot in the classroom, wondering if she had heard wrong—why did the voice of God sound so much like the absent Su Xiaobai's voice today.

She and her classmates discussed and were determined—that they must ask him clearly the next time Su Xiaobai attends class!

But what they didn't know was, "Su Xiaobai" would never return.

On the empty seat, a sycamore leaf was placed on the desk, gently fluttering.

This was destined to be an inexplicable answer.

...

The sky brightened.

A sword dazzling with light appeared as if to cleave the heavens and earth. Su Ming'an stood on the rooftop of Dao Ya City, yet everyone could see his figure.

He held a golden longsword, black hair flowing, a white robe embroidered with gold threads billowing, with pristine tendrils wrapped around him—exactly the image of the Old God from ancient texts.

The black Spirit Points of the follower lay on his shoulder, while the white Spirit Points of the follower crouched beside his foot.

Under the overwhelming golden radiance, countless threads came into view—precisely the effect of Su Ming'an's title: [Seeing Causal Line of Shadow].

The Sword of Destiny can sever fate.

"Shadow, you gloomy crawling creature, hiding among the stars. If you have the guts, come down and fight me."

"The millennium has come, your story is ending, and there will be no new beginnings."

"But do you dare to perform this final act with me, regardless of what tricks you use, or perhaps using the dance skills you've practiced for a thousand years?"

The sword tip pointing at the starry sky, his voice remained soft, unlike an icy provocation or declaration of war, more like a peaceful narrative poem.

Yet no one would underestimate his sword.

Everyone involuntarily stood up, drawn by an indescribable emotion within them, looking towards him. They did not kneel humbly, nor closed their eyes to pray, but stood upright, resembling [Equality]... watching him.

He is a deity, but he never looked down on humanity itself.

He is a being controlling the supreme authority beyond life, but he never thought of himself as superior to anyone.

What he needed... was not believers who only bowed their heads in prayer, nor worshippers who only showed obsequious devotion. But rather...

His ten fingers slightly curled.

It was as if countless invisible threads were held in his hands, rooting into the earth, connecting every person on this fervent land. The other end, tied to his burning heart.

He was their deity, the gathering place of their faith, the final guide of all emotions for a thousand years. But what he needed were comrades in arms.

In this millennia-long struggle... no one would presume to stand above another, they all held... a shared objective.

The young man gently proclaimed the final act's oration:

"Everyone—from now on, you can laugh, cry, sing, paint. If you wish to be nightingales, I allow you to sing under the sun."

"I allow you—to have free, unmanipulated souls."

"I allow you—to possess a destiny no longer controlled by others, but by yourselves..."

"Now, you people of the fiftieth generation—"

He raised the longsword high, declaring war to the starry sky:

[Respect—to the unquenchable light!]

[Respect—to the free wind!]

[Respect—to the Lighthouse perpetually shining on the command boat!]

[Respect humanity! Respect freedom! Respect the future!!]

"—To our millennium-old [homeland] we've reached—land ashore!"

...

The sword adorned with gold and gemstones shimmered in the sunlight. His eyes too were like gemstones.

The last grand sunset descent was the final arrival of the firmament. The last burning daylight flowed around him, like an everlasting flame.

Above the starry sky, eyes as deep blue as the ocean opened, seemingly sensing the arrival of the final time node.

The clock struck the last inch, the [Ark] almost sailing for 400,000 days dyed in full night and frost, reaching the other shore, what awaited there was—

The clash of day and night, the flow of heaven and earth, an instant covering an ideal country of 5,100,000,000 hectares—that existed on the other shore, piercing through the night, the extremely moving [Dawn].

—Seeking light on the other shore.

No sight was more moving than this moment.

He swore with his sword to protect human dignity.

In an instant, people shouted his name.

They shouted—

The deity—Su Ming'an is leading us.

...

[ (TE·Sealed with Me) Perfect Completion Progress: -80%]

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