The pressure is getting heavier.
Jeming's soul was trembling, struggling madly on the edge of collapse.
The grand voice still echoed in his mind, each word like a mountain, pressing him so hard he couldn't breathe.
The golden light of the Fate System had dimmed to nearly extinguished. Although the thought stream of the hundred-billion Black Giants was still pouring in, in the face of absolute silence, it was just a slightly more tenacious stream, destined to be frozen sooner or later.
But strangely, Jeming's consciousness became increasingly clear.
That clarity was eerie.
Like a person about to freeze to death in ice and snow, experiencing a strange warmth and clarity before dying.
He knew it was a sign of impending death, but he couldn't control it.
The surrounding information continued to try to drill into his mind incessantly.
Every piece of information was an invasion, and every invasion was an assimilation.
