The Nameless Cocoon struggled desperately against the entangling black threads. In a battle like a tug-of-war, it lost ground again and again.
It felt itself growing drowsy.
In seven days at most, it would fall into a deep slumber under the suppression, a state from which it could not awaken on its own.
And if the Sealed Prison's suppression remained at its current intensity, then in as little as three to five months, or as long as a year or two, it would devolve into a low-consumption Undying Insect in its sleep. It would completely reboot its insect life, losing its current identity.
It was undying. That was an eternal law.
But after the next reboot, would it still be itself?
Suddenly, its overflowing Spiritual Power detected a familiar voice.
"Ah Jian?"
It was Shi Ming's call.
A jolt went through it.
It was like receiving welcome rain in a drought.
...
Shi Ming, piloting the Sunshot alone, had quietly returned to the vicinity of the Black Gold.
