The warship above the violet planet was called The Sutra of the Last Horizon.

  It had no windows.

  No external lights.

  Only the glowing script that flowed across its hull—rivers of crimson symbols moving like living calligraphy across the metal skin.

  To the soldiers of the Event Horizon Order, those symbols were sacred.

  To everyone else, they were terrifying.

  Inside the ship’s central sanctum, silence ruled.

  The chamber was vast—large enough to contain a cathedral—but shaped like a spiral. Dark stone platforms circled downward into a central abyss where a massive ring-shaped machine floated, humming with gravitational energy.

  This machine was known as The Sutra Engine.

  And inside it was written the Black Sutra.

  The High Ascetic stood before the engine with hands folded calmly behind his back.

  His name was Ascetic Vahr-Kaal.

  Behind him, dozens of robed disciples knelt on the cold floor, their heads bowed. Each wore the black ceremonial robes of the Order, stitched with geometric patterns meant to represent spacetime curvature.

  One of the disciples spoke softly.

  “Master… the planetary strike teams have encountered resistance.”

  Vahr-Kaal did not turn.

  “Describe it.”

  “A single unidentified being.”

  “Only one?”

  “Yes.”

  The disciple hesitated.

  “Our soldiers were defeated in seconds.”

  The Ascetic finally turned his head slightly.

  “Then our calculations were correct.”

  He stepped closer to the floating Sutra Engine.

  The massive ring slowly rotated, projecting layers of holographic scripture into the air. Unlike normal text, the characters twisted in impossible directions, as if written in four-dimensional space.

  This was not a religious text in the traditional sense.

  It was a map.

  A map of the universe’s edge.

  The Black Sutra had first been discovered nearly four centuries earlier, hidden inside an ancient alien archive drifting near a collapsed star. No one knew who created it. Some believed it predated the Milky Way itself.

  What the Order discovered within it changed everything.

  The Sutra described a phenomenon at the outer boundary of reality itself—a place where spacetime collapsed into pure informational singularity.

  A place where the universe stopped pretending to exist.

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  The Black Sutra called it:

  The Event Horizon of Creation.

  According to the scripture, the cosmos was not infinite.

  It was a closed system.

  A vast bubble of existence expanding through a deeper layer of meta-reality.

  And at the outermost edge of that bubble—where spacetime thinned into nothingness—lay a threshold.

  Beyond that threshold existed something unimaginable.

  Not heaven.

  Not emptiness.

  But pure truth.

  The Black Sutra taught that everything within the universe was illusion—matter, energy, consciousness, even time itself. Only by crossing the final horizon could one escape the cycle of false existence.

  The problem was simple.

  No one had ever reached it.

  Every attempt ended in annihilation.

  Stars collapsed.

  Ships vanished.

  Entire civilizations were erased trying to breach the boundary.

  Most scholars concluded the Sutra was symbolic.

  The Event Horizon Order concluded the opposite.

  They believed the Sutra was a literal instruction manual.

  And they were willing to burn the galaxy to follow it.

  Vahr-Kaal gestured toward the floating projections.

  One of the holographic layers zoomed outward, revealing a map of hundreds of star systems connected by glowing lines.

  “These are the relic worlds,” he said calmly.

  “Ancient civilizations that approached the truth before their extinction.”

  The disciples lifted their heads slightly.

  “Each world left fragments of knowledge,” Vahr-Kaal continued. “Fragments that together form the path described in the Black Sutra.”

  A new symbol appeared in the projection.

  The violet planet below.

  “This world contains a relic of immense significance.”

  One of the disciples asked carefully:

  “The awakened being?”

  Vahr-Kaal nodded.

  “Yes.”

  The projection replayed footage from the soldiers’ helmet cameras.

  The Six-Eared Macaque moved through the battlefield like a ripple in water—effortless, fluid, unstoppable.

  The Ascetic watched closely.

  “His body channels energy patterns not found in ordinary life forms.”

  The projection zoomed further.

  Energy signatures flowed through the Macaque’s nervous system in symmetrical loops.

  The same patterns appeared inside the Black Sutra’s equations.

  The disciple gasped softly.

  “He is part of the Sutra…”

  “Not part,” Vahr-Kaal corrected.

  “A key.”

  The Ascetic folded his hands again.

  “The creators of the Black Sutra were searching for beings capable of surviving the transition beyond spacetime.”

  The projection changed again.

  Now it displayed ancient alien diagrams—figures shaped vaguely like primates surrounded by rings of energy.

  “Their research concluded that certain rare biological structures could harmonize with the quantum turbulence at the edge of the universe.”

  The disciple’s voice trembled.

  “You believe the creature below is one of them?”

  Vahr-Kaal smiled faintly.

  “Yes.”

  The chamber fell silent.

  The High Ascetic turned toward the abyss beneath the Sutra Engine.

  “If we capture him… we will finally open the path.”

  Far below on the violet planet, Lina crouched behind a shattered wall, reloading her plasma rifle.

  Outside, dozens of black-armored soldiers advanced cautiously across the facility grounds.

  Their formation had changed.

  They moved slower now.

  More carefully.

  “They’re adapting,” Lina muttered.

  Beside her, the Six-Eared Macaque sat cross-legged in quiet meditation.

  Even in the middle of an approaching army.

  His breathing remained perfectly steady.

  Lina glanced at him.

  “You planning something?”

  He opened one eye.

  “Yes.”

  “Care to share?”

  “They believe they are seeking ultimate truth.”

  “Yeah,” Lina said. “That’s their whole cult.”

  The Macaque stood slowly.

  “Then perhaps they should hear it.”

  Lina blinked.

  “You’re going to lecture them?”

  “I will attempt dialogue.”

  She stared at the approaching army.

  “That usually works on genocidal religious fanatics.”

  The Macaque walked calmly toward the battlefield.

  Lina sighed and followed.

  The soldiers raised their weapons again as he approached.

  Their leader stepped forward.

  “IDENTIFY YOURSELF.”

  The Macaque bowed slightly.

  “You seek the truth beyond the universe.”

  The soldiers hesitated.

  “How do you know this?”

  “Because your ship carries the Black Sutra.”

  Even through their helmets, the soldiers visibly stiffened.

  “That knowledge is forbidden.”

  The Macaque smiled gently.

  “The Sutra is incomplete.”

  Inside the orbiting warship, alarms suddenly blared.

  Vahr-Kaal turned sharply toward the projection.

  “What did he say?”

  The Macaque’s voice echoed across the battlefield.

  “You seek the Event Horizon of Creation.”

  He raised one hand calmly.

  “But the Sutra is missing the final verse.”

  Silence fell across the violet plains.

  Even the soldiers lowered their weapons slightly.

  Inside the warship, Vahr-Kaal’s eyes widened.

  “The final verse…”

  He whispered:

  “Impossible.”

  Far across the galaxy—

  Sun Wukong suddenly stopped mid-sentence while explaining something to Pandora.

  He stared into space.

  Then laughed loudly.

  “Oh this is going to be fun.”

  Pandora frowned.

  “What now?”

  Wukong grinned.

  “My old rival is about to ruin a cult’s entire religion.”

  And the journey toward the Event Horizon had just taken a dramatic turn.