As Su Xinhua spoke, the scene unfurled like silk, and they stood inside a vast cosmos, rainbow rivers of stars streaming across black velvet.

They skimmed through planets like swallows through lanterns, then halted; their Armor faded like frost under sun, leaving only breath and silence.

“This is…”

Meng Yuting looked down, heart caught like a kite in crosswind; beneath her, a blue‑white bead glowed—Earth—seen for the first time like a porcelain marble in the void.

“This is Earth… but it feels off, like a wrong note.”

Gu Xin frowned, unease pricking like a thorn; the familiar sphere rang strange, like a mirror with a hairline crack.

“It’s Earth, yes, but not yours,” Marilyn said, eyes steady as winter water. “It’s another Tang Coco’s hometown.”

Her gaze fixed on the planet, all playfulness folded away like a fan; the air held a hush.

“…”

Gu Xin and Meng Yuting sank into thought, minds drifting like leaves; Tang Coco was less surprised, memory a lantern she’d held since Lulu’s tales. She drifted to Marilyn’s side as if on a breeze.

“Lulu…”

She breathed in her ear, voice soft as incense smoke.

“Mm?”

Marilyn answered without turning, lost in old shadows; Tang Coco finally snapped, pinching Marilyn’s little ear like a naughty sprout.

“You dare call me by name? Think outside the real world you can skip calling me sis? And you still ignore me!”

“Ehh—ehh—ehh?!”

Marilyn blinked, bewildered like a startled deer.

“Pfft…”

Gu Xin and Meng Yuting stared, speechless, smiles rippling like light on water.

“Hey! Can you be serious? It’s a tight hour.”

Marilyn’s cheeks flushed like peach blossoms.

“Tch, just warming the mood.”

Tang Coco pouted, the storm already fading like summer rain.

“Alright, Coco, don’t.”

Gu Xin sighed, helpless, a wry smile like tea in late afternoon.

“Okay. We continue.”

Su Xinhua’s smile was a calm lamp; the world shifted again like a turning page.

Their sight pulled away from Earth like a kite string drawn taut; deep in the void, a black rift yawned, bottomless as a well, its darkness pressing like a heavy lid.

They slipped into it, bodies light as feathers; it was only vision, a tide that pushed at the eyes, no pain, no harm.

Through the crack, another universe opened like a second garden; another Earth hung there, a twin mask on the same face.

“This is…”

Gu Xin’s brow tightened, the discomfort thick as smoke; this world made her bones itch.

“I’ve seen this planet,” Marilyn said, voice straight as an arrow. “It’s where my first host lived—the Origin Ground.”

“…”

Even Tang Coco went quiet, eyes tracing continents like brushstrokes; only Su Xinhua watched them with a soft, steady smile.

A new rift rose behind them like a sudden storm; this time, it dragged them in rough as a river, and the pull stopped inside the crack itself.

When calm settled like dust, they opened their eyes—and were stunned into a stillness like frost.

Around them stood a block‑shaped space, edges clean as jade; on both sides, giant dials towered like stone gates, and behind each, energy whirlpools spun in colors like molten silk.

“So many dials…”

Gu Xin whispered, awe fluttering like a sparrow in her chest.

“This is the Administrators’ space.”

An ethereal voice rang, sexless and clear, echoing like bells across an empty hall.

“Who are you?”

Tang Coco asked, heart steady like a drawn bow; the real master had finally stepped from the shadow.

“I… am fate… your fate… their fate… and everyone’s fate.”

The voice of the Fate Clock came broken, like rain on old paper.

“You finally showed up…”

“As you see… this is our place of being,” the voice flowed, level as a river. “Here we hold the balance of every parallel cosmos.”

“We govern time and space like threads, time like a river, life like flame, fortune like wind, emotion like tides, power like thunder—everything’s balance, held in our hands.”

“But one day, that balance cracked like ice.”

“One of us—the Clock of Power—found it could steal authority by breaking another Administrator’s balance.”

“So it shattered the world’s balance of power, birthing life beyond measure, like wild bamboo after rain.”

“We tried to stop it… but to stop it, we’d break our own balance, and that risk was a storm that could drown more worlds.”

“When the Space‑Time Clock was devoured, the grief fell like a black bell; we understood the weight of this.”

“We chose me to stop it—because fate is the hardest to notice and the hardest to bend.”

“So I split a sliver of will like a hidden thread, seeking the right person; at last, a chance appeared.”

“To fight the Clock of Life, the Clock of Power gave a normal human a special gift; her strength outstripped every soul across all parallels.”

“It wanted to use her to break the balance of life; I stepped in and changed her fate.”

“But I couldn’t be sure she’d follow me; for safety, I hid the power of fate in a lower‑tier world, and let her walk trials across several worlds first.”

“The power of fate… those two watches, right?”

Tang Coco’s memory flashed like lightning; two wristwatches rose in her mind.

“And her? What’s with her?”

Tang Coco pointed at Su Xinhua, asking about the other soul within.

“I’m a Balancer, a shard of your world’s will,” Su Xinhua said, palm over her chest like a vow. “My task is to bring the fated one here without breaking this world’s balance.”

“So… what did my mother and father go through?”

Tang Coco’s voice trembled like a thin reed; this was the knot in her heart.

“After their wedding, on their honeymoon,” Su Xinhua said, hand cutting the air like a fan, and the scene bloomed, “they met the power of fate by chance.”

On the screen, the young Su Xinhua and Tang Shoucheng, Coco’s father, walked hand in hand along a moonlit beach, joy like lantern light; under water‑washed sand, something lay hidden like a shell.

They dug it out, and two watches lay in their palms like twin moons; blue light flared, bright as a blade, and a flood of data surged into Tang Shoucheng’s mind like a river into a gate.

Unlucky, Su Xinhua’s watch had been damaged by a space‑time crack; the blue light only dropped her like a petal in wind, with no message carried.

“As part of the world’s will, I felt this ripple,” Su Xinhua said when the image faded, voice calm as stone. “The Fate Clock asked me to help your mother, or its secret would be exposed like ink on snow.”

“But your father had already seen the plan’s details and knew his path; the two watches couldn’t appear together before the fated one—you—or the plan would be revealed too early.”

“So your parents divorced, distance stretched like two shores; your father took you into the Abnormal organization, hoping to hide behind Anomaly Power like a cloak.”

“But fate’s net was tight; he was found.”

“On his last mission, the will of the Clock of Power tracked him; your father held a fragment of the Fate Clock’s power—small, but to Abnormals of your world, it was a mountain.”

“Against the Clock of Power, he still couldn’t stand like a lone pine in a gale.”

“To guard the secret, he turned the blade inward; with the Fate Clock’s power, he ended his own life, sealing the secret like a stone under deep water.”

Su Xinhua’s eyes brimmed, tears slipping like warm rain; even a world’s will couldn’t hold back this tide.

“Your mother grieved, her heart torn like silk; I couldn’t tell her the secret, only guide you slowly toward meeting like two stars drawn to one track.”

“IST Corporation,” Tang Coco said, fists clenched till knuckles whitened like bone. “That was my father’s final target.”

“Now this world has been infiltrated by those chosen by the Clock of Power,” Su Xinhua said, helplessness thin as mist. “They might be people of your world, or from others—or not people at all.”

“The enemies are many, like arrows in rain; but the Fate Clock foresaw this. For you, it shifted the fates of those around you, so you’d meet and fight shoulder to shoulder.”

“So that’s how it is…”

Understanding settled in Gu Xin’s eyes like a steady flame; she looked at Tang Coco with a resolve hard as iron.

“But your chances aren’t bright,” Su Xinhua added, a sober bell in the hush. “The Administrators can’t help you—but this world can.”

“In this world, someone can aid you greatly; she is… a Seer.”