"Ellen is ultimately the one who shattered the stars..."
"He did..."
"In that cosmic time and space, his thoughts and melancholy should have existed forever."
"And I, what will I use to answer?"
In the amethyst pupils, the radiation axis of the crystal constellation must have been sunk.
In addition to the stars, there are starbursts passing in the opposite space.
A long, beautiful roll of hair that touches on the love that pervades cherry blossom trees.
The red interface of the Xuanshu strategic early warning system is showing a real-time battlefield situation.
The first, second, and third layers of the Axis Legion were instantly penetrated by Ellen Albert Shuria's First Squadron, and the continued chaos extended to the abyss occupied by the entire Axis Legion.
A closed dream appeared in the sloping space in front of Petronilla, where her lamentations and prayers were spoken.
In the burning universe, countless spirits and flesh are silent in the sea of perdition, and countless roses are shattered at the door of the universe.
Witnessing the tragic scene of another time and space and the meaningless consumption of life, Petronilla has a different understanding of the laws of the macroscopic cosmic battlefield.
"There, after all, there are different laws from ours."
"And for me, what is the ultimate battlefield?"
Sensing subtle changes in the shadows and voids of the intense space, the light and thoughts that wandered beyond her pupils touched the crown of roses.
In her heart, there must be some frustration and confusion that will eventually lead her to that time trance.
Only this person can give her the answer.
"Cindora, do you think we have a reason to win?"
In the midst of immutable time there is Petronilla's cowardice and pity.
And in the farthest realm that the Etonium universe of thought can reach, there has also been this dimension beyond intellect.
"Maybe there will always be a boundary in your universe and mine that blocks the measure of our growth."
Petronilla saw the stellar glow in the dazzling pupils of Enya Etun's rose-colored hair.
In the universe, only this woman can bring her different perceptions beyond will and thought.
Those thoughts that extend beyond the battlefields of the macroscopic universe return to her little space-time.
"The one hundred and seventy-fifth layer array of the Axis Legion showed signs of spinning in the chaos, and Ellen's attack did not completely disrupt their formation."
A layer of light and shadow slid over Eton's pale forehead, and she lay on the Evan ceramic mobile car, her short rose hair containing a shield of flame and thought.
"Attack now, and the counterattack of the Axis Legion is also something we cannot afford."
Petronilla's long eyelashes shone with dreamlike beams of light, and the signs that sunk in the sea of frustration ended her will and spirit.
"Commander Etun, let's withdraw our troops."
In her amethyst eyes, the ruins and scars of past time and space flashed.
"If this battlefield continues, we have no chance of winning."
Glory and dreams vanished on Eton's forehead, she indulged in blue melancholy and roses, and scenes of nothing about the battlefield appeared before her eyes.
There is no doubt that she has reached a compromise with herself in the memory of a person.
"If Master Ansel Stewart were here, how would he react?"
The constant questioning reveals the non-stop gaze of shadows and blues.
She found the only consolation in her rosy thoughts.
In the realm of the Zeus, which was constantly burning in the chaos, on a flagship called Anya stood a melancholy long-haired man.
There was a fiery fire symbolizing the will burning in his pupils, and his slender fingertips stirred up a grand soul light.
The two opposing pours of breath and heat into his body collided endlessly.
In the dark space, his elegant voice in the middle voice field resounded throughout the universe.
"Our fleet, with the speed of the first space migration battle, jumped to the point of light, and in that sea of stars at that turn, we will make a final strong attack on the Sisyphus Seventh Fleet."
The realm that could not be illuminated by the light source of the stars in the central part of the Abyssal Realm opened up a deep passage.
The points of light of two hundred thousand warships passed through the cracks of space and time.
Those shining red streaks of light now lurked outside the empty cosmic timeline.
The grand hidden passages in the high-dimensional cosmic space maintain their fleeting moments.
The energy stream generated by the 200,000 warships attacking at the speed of the First Space Leap Battle impacted all the materials that symbolized compassion in this realm.
"Birth is the entrance, death is the exit, and life is an island in the sea of dust."
Brodsky, the galactic soul poet of the Ancient Age, chanted a pathetic psalm in pain.
And in this bleak moment of the universe, they are restarting the triumph of their will with the destruction of their souls.
Time is embellishing the souls of their indomitable warriors in a splendid form.
In the macroscopic space, the countless beams of light inspired by 200,000 warships shot towards that future space-time.
That landing point was the Adaparins Domain, where the Seventh Fleet of Sisyphus was located.
At one point of divergence in the timeline of one thousand eleven and fifty-seven, there was an unprecedented obsession of the Legion of Axis.
It was the mind of the old times, and after experiencing the confusion, they were breaking through the walls of the dimension with the illusion of their destructive posture.
It's the deepest otherworld in the dream.
And we can only feel its violent and tragic temperament.
In the realm of Adapalins, we witnessed the apocalypse.
What burns on our foreheads is not our divine revelation, but the explosion of light born in loneliness.