In the captain's quarters of the Planeswalker, Skyl was observing the nerve cells of the Celestial Ego under a microscope, casually writing down his observations in the Book of Mora. The otherworldly aura seeping out of the Book of Mora turned into a fist-sized vortex, sprouting eyeballs and tentacles. Every now and then, it would even chat with Skyl.
These nerve cells still maintained perfect activity. They could spontaneously produce weak Celestial power, and they could survive without needing outside nourishment.
Strictly speaking, the Celestial was not dead. The one who had died was Ego. Once the integrity of the brain was destroyed, Ego's soul had also collapsed and perished. However, as long as these Celestial cells still existed, a new soul would eventually be born one day. By then, perhaps he would give himself a new name.
This was the first time Skyl had ever seen a rainstorm of thought-strings formed after a soul's death. As expected of a universe-level Celestial, the scale of his soul energy was comparable to that of a million mortals. Allowing a Celestial's soul to simply dissipate was an enormous waste for any spellcaster. However, to contain such a powerful soul, only a Daedric artifact on the level of Azura's Star could do the job. Lady Moonshadow looked down on scraps from such an ordinary minor god and would not go out of her way to make another artifact for it. Skyl, however, felt rather pained by the loss. For a while, he even considered whether he should use the Time Stone to reverse death and kill Ego all over again.
For the sake of Ego having been an intelligent life, no matter how much it pained Skyl, he ultimately chose to let him die with dignity. Ego was an example of someone who had tried and failed to be human. Skyl felt that although he was a morally rotten model villain, he still made a decent cautionary tale. On the road of gradually growing stronger, losing one's companions often led to loneliness. Skyl planned to find time to talk about this subject with Moonshadow and Stan. They would definitely have something to say about it.
Pure Celestial cells were like fungi, lazy and sluggish by nature, but they had very obvious stress responses. If he poked them with silver tweezers, they would even fight back. They were phototropic, could withstand extreme temperatures, ate basically anything, and could convert all kinds of energy into Celestial power. What they liked most was nutrient-rich aqueous solution. With enough nutrients and energy, they could rapidly replicate themselves.
This was almost vitality on the level of regenerating from a single drop of blood. Ego had left avatars all over the universe. It was entirely possible that one of those avatars could grow into a new true body many years from now. Even if that happened, however, Ego's soul was already dead beyond recovery.
Mora stared at the large chunk of brain matter on the petri dish on the table, drooling with greed. This thing's flavor had already been certified by the little serpent. It was so delicious it was practically unbelievable, smooth, tender, and refreshing in texture. Not only did it lack any fishy smell, but it also carried a special mellow fragrance. The Celestial power was even slightly spicy on the tongue. One could say that high-end ingredients only needed to be eaten raw. They did not even need simple cooking.
"My lord, cut me one piece to taste. Just one."
"Hermaeus, you are an old-school Daedric Prince, at the very least. Can you stop acting like a greedy child?"
Mora's tentacles began flailing wildly. It said rather anxiously, "I am merely curious. My lord has an entire vat of brain matter, and besides, this dead thing grows back as long as it is soaked in sugar water. Even if you keep it as emergency rations in the future, what is the need to be so stingy?"
Skyl casually cut a slice from the petri dish and tossed it into Mora's vortex. Its seven or eight tentacles wrapped around the brain slice, and a mouth filled with sharp teeth appeared at the center of the vortex, tearing the Celestial nerve tissue apart and swallowing it.
Mora let out a thin laugh, as though it had enjoyed a supreme delicacy.
"My lord, this brain tissue truly is a fine thing."
"Do you think it tastes good, or do you think it is useful?" Skyl asked casually.
"Uh, of course it tastes good. Another slice, my lord."
"You look like you have other plans. Are you thinking of using this brain tissue to cultivate your own dependents?" Skyl's single sentence made Mora's tone turn panicked.
"Nothing of the sort. My lord, you must believe me. Mora is completely loyal to you." He grew more aggrieved the more it spoke. "You already devoured my Apocrypha. How could I possibly still have the strength to resist you?"
"A realm can be rebuilt after it is gone. As long as you have enough believers, I think you could ascend to godhood again." Skyl revealed a kindly smile that made Mora's tentacles spasm. "Ever since I used you to cast the Grand Symphony, you have become quite a bit stronger. When are you planning to betray me?"
Mora cried out that it had been wronged again and again, not on its own behalf, but on Skyl's. "My lord, you are wronged! This lowly one has hidden things from my lord and deserves death ten thousand times over…"
Seeing it groveling so humbly, Skyl also found it amusing. "All right, you are a Daedric Prince of secrets. How did you spill everything the moment I bluffed you? Forget about cultivating dependents. Once I finish researching these cells, I will make you a biological brain-computer in the Tower of Tomes to serve as a library search system. It can also act as a learning machine for the apprentices and disciples."
Mora was overjoyed, then hesitantly asked, "Then, my lord, may I absorb some faith?"
"You may, but you are not allowed to establish a cult." Skyl set a bottom line for Mora, lest this fellow build its own faction inside the Tower of Tomes and turn an academic organization into a complete mess.
After receiving a small benefit, Mora became cheerful again and kept declaring its loyalty in front of Skyl.
"By the way, Hermaeus, there is something I have been wanting to ask you." Skyl suddenly changed the subject. "You have lived for so many years. Do you ever feel lonely?"
Mora's tone froze, then it lazily answered, "So my lord was frightened by that minor god's words."
"I am, after all, only a young mage. Isn't it perfectly normal to fear loneliness?" Skyl did not conceal his true thoughts.
As an old god who had lived through countless cosmic cycles, Hermaeus Mora did indeed have a certain right to speak on this subject.
"My lord, although old Mora may seem inhuman most of the time, throughout the long ages, I have still paid special attention to certain mortals. I recorded their fates and turned their life experiences into secret books, treasured and stored in Apocrypha. Cosmic cycle after cosmic cycle passed, yet they seemed not to age at all within those books. Because of that, I also felt as if I had not changed at all, forever driven by hunger for secrets."
Skyl fell into thought. A sudden idea came to him. What if he sealed all his experiences in different universes inside spacetime slices? For instance, he could turn those years of studying in the Harry Potter world into a small plane. In that case, he would be able to revisit them often, and he would not have to fear that old friends and acquaintances would wither away and disappear.
Many old wizards, such as Dumbledore, would pull out their memories when reminiscing about the past and place them into a Pensieve to savor them, like watching a holographic movie. Skyl's idea, however, went a step further. He wanted to directly extract a stretch of the worldline and turn it into a specimen.
This concept was somewhat similar to a main-god space. Anyone could enter it and explore.
Back then, Skyl had promised Dumbledore that he would protect history. Turning the world into slices was also a possible method. With a backup, history could repair itself. Compared with a stagnant world ruled by divine law, where all beings were denied freedom by fate, a sliced worldline could still develop freely. No one's destiny would be affected either.
But an idea was still only an idea. Skyl's current abilities were not enough to accomplish such a thing.
He told Mora his idea. After thinking for a moment, the old god also said that he could do nothing about it.
"My lord, if it is only a time loop, that would be very easy. But to establish a historical backup, one must create a great cosmic cycle. I fear only honored gods like Ilúvatar and Stan would have the ability to do such a thing."
"No matter. In the end, it is merely a bold idea." Skyl did not mind.
Over the next few days, his life remained very simple. He spent most of his time researching Celestial cells. The rest of the time was spent chatting with the crew, playing games, and enjoying three meals together. Life aboard the ship was inevitably somewhat plain, but the day they returned home was drawing near. Everyone knew the moment of parting was fast approaching, so they cherished this peaceful time all the more.
One week later, the Planeswalker arrived at the final stop of this interstellar journey, Vormir. The Mad Titan's fleet had already been waiting there for a long time, while Thanos himself stood quietly on the Soul Stone's sacrificial cliff, awaiting Skyl's arrival.
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