bookpower 230. God Clone
230. God Clone
Nano’s voice echoed through Jin Shu’s soul space.“Jin Shu, I have a solution. Let me into your soul space.”
Wang Yue paused, curiosity flickering across her face.
Jin Shu frowned. He—and the others—had a tacit, unspoken agreement with Nano. They kept him out of their soul space, and Nano never asked to be let in.
They trusted him. Jin Shu had even defended Nano to his mother and to Chen Ai Yun. That trust, however, did not extend to granting access to their soul space.
For a cultivator, that was unthinkable.
Letting someone inside your soul space meant absolute vulnerability. If the other party harbored even the slightest ill intent, they could cripple you—or seize control of your body outright.
But now…
They had no other options.
After a brief hesitation, Jin Shu released the restrictions on his soul space.
He let Nano in for the first time.
A glowing green data stream descended from the sky.
Jin Shu had to admit—Nano knew how to make an entrance.
Within the cascade of symbols, code fragments, and streams of ones and zeros, something began to form. A microscopic figure emerged, steadily growing at a visible rate.
A tiny, humanoid robot.
It expanded, joints locking into place, until it reached human size.
“A technological lifeform…?” Wang Yue murmured. “How?”
Her confusion deepened—and then vanished.
All four of her bodies went pale.
Pure terror washed over their faces.
“No… no, that can’t be. He’s long dead.”
Nano landed beside Jin Shu and his other souls. Jin Shu gave him a once-over, unable to hide his admiration.
Nano had always been a tiny presence within his body. Jin Shu had never really seen him before.
Now, at full size, he looked… incredible.
Nano stood nearly two meters tall, his body formed entirely of polished metallic silver. Blue, glowing lines traced across his armor-like frame, giving him a sleek, futuristic aesthetic—yet somehow still evoking the presence of a medieval knight. His headpiece was sharp and angular, shaped like a razor-edged helm.
Then it lit up like an LCD screen, forming a digital face.
The effect was… slightly less intimidating, almost comedic.
Wang Yue was not amused.
All four of her bodies trembled violently.
“Y-you’re Nano Technica,” she stammered. “How did you come back to life? They said you died with your realm…”
“Hm?” Nano tilted his head. “That is incorrect. I am not Nano Technica. I am an artificial intelligence constructed from the final surviving fragment of his consciousness. I am known simply as Nano.”
“A god clone?!” Wang Yue gasped.
Jin Shu glanced between them, completely lost.
“Uh… what’s going on here?” he asked. “Didn’t you say you had a solution? And what’s this about a god’s clone?”
“You!” Wang Yue pointed at Jin Shu, her finger trembling. “How can a mortal dare speak so casually to a true god?!”
Didn't you just speak pretty casually? Jin Shu thought, but chose not to use that retort for now.
He blinked. “First, I don’t know what a ‘true god’ is. Second, are you sure you’re not mistaken? Nano told me he served a god—he never said he was one. Right, Nano?”
Nano looked at him. “Technically, I told you that the god of my world enslaved his people. Also technically… I am that god’s remnant.”
Jin Shu blinked again.
Once.
Slowly.
Then his eyes widened.
“…My little robot buddy is a god?!”
Shuang shook his head with a sigh and turned to Wang Yue.
“You said his realm died. Could you explain what you meant by that?”
A sinking feeling settled in his chest. He suspected he already knew the answer.
The realm Nano came from… coincidentally—or perhaps not—was also Gold’s original realm. Where Earth resided. They had always avoided asking Nano directly, afraid of what he might say.
But the truth could only be avoided for so long.
Wang Yue glanced at Nano. He gave a small nod.
“Where should I begin?” she murmured. “There was once a realm known as the Technica Realm. It was the origin realm of all technology-based worlds.”
She spoke slowly, carefully.
“As an origin realm, it housed a true god—a being with infinite power within their own realm, and near-matchless power beyond it.”
She hesitated.
“However… it was banished to the Wilds.”
“The Wilds?” Jin Shu echoed faintly.
“An uninhabitable void beyond the collective realms,” she explained. Her voice wavered as she continued. “The reason for its banishment was taboo-breaking. Its true god enslaved his own creators. His worshipers.”
She glanced at Nano again, nervous—but he remained silent.
Encouraged, she pressed on.
“The realm was forgotten for an immeasurable span of time. Then, one day, it stirred again. Nano Technica attempted to breach the collective realms.”
Her eyes unfocused, as if recalling a distant catastrophe.
“The other true gods intercepted him in the space between realms—between the Wilds and creation itself.”
She drew a steadying breath.
“They believed banishment would cause stagnation. They were wrong. Nano Technica had grown stronger. Strong enough to slay a true god.”
A ripple of tension passed through the group.
“The implications shook the collective realms,” Wang Yue continued quietly. “Especially this one.”
Her gaze lifted to Jin Shu.
“It was this realm’s true god who was killed.”
Jin Shu didn’t fully understand what that meant—but he knew it was disastrous.
“Even so,” Wang Yue went on, “Nano Technica could not withstand the combined assault of the other true gods. He was grievously wounded and retreated back to his realm.”
She swallowed.
“But he wasn’t the only thing that returned.”
A chill crept into her voice.
“A plague. One that had lain dormant in the space between realms—awakened by the clash of gods.”
Wang Yue’s throat bobbed as she gulped before continuing.
“The plague itself was weak. But it carried a sliver of the true gods’ aura. That was enough. It infected the wounded Nano Technica… and killed him.”
Silence followed.
“With his death, the Technica Realm weakened,” she said softly. “It could not endure a plague capable of killing gods.”
She paused—then seemed to recall another detail.
“Oh. The plague was defeated.”
Hope flickered briefly—then died.
“But only at the cost of all life within the realm. One world resisted until the very end, sealing the plague within metallic statues. Unfortunately, by then, all habitable land had been stripped away.”
She exhaled.
“The beings of that world perished.”
“Earth…” Gold whispered.
Wang Yue looked at him in surprise. “You know it?”
Understanding dawned. “Of course. You are connected to Nano Technica’s god clone.”
Jin Shu and the others didn’t bother correcting her.
There was nothing left to explain.
Deep down, they had always known Earth’s fate. They had simply pushed it to the back of their minds.
But hearing it spoken aloud made the truth finally sink in.
“It’s not like we could ever go back anyway,” Gold said quietly. “Besides, my life there ended a long time ago. There was nothing left for me.”
Wang Yue seemed to pick up on something in his words.
“Wait.” She pointed at Gold. “You were born in the Technica Realm?”
Her brows knit together. “But you carry the aura of this realm. That means you reincarnated—but something went wrong. Your soul split between your past life and your current one. Then a third soul formed to stabilize the fracture.”
Her eyes flicked between the three of them.
“A naturally born protector soul… luckily he doesn't know how to use his powers,” she whispered to herself.
Jin Shu had no idea what she was muttering about—and frankly, he didn’t care. He was done letting the conversation spiral. They needed answers, not cold truths.
“You said you had a solution,” he said, turning back to Nano. “What is it?”
“Yes,” Nano replied. “I do.”
He raised his hand.
The palm split cleanly down the center, mechanical plates sliding apart as a sleek, futuristic sword emerged from within. Its design mirrored Nano’s own body—silver metal, sharp lines, faint blue luminescence.
Jin Shu blinked. “What… is that?”
“A modified Metal Element,” Nano said calmly. “I have spent considerable time altering a fragment of universal law to create it. It was only completed recently.”
His digital face shifted into a pixelated smile as he handed the sword over.
“It was surprisingly difficult to craft with my current limitations,” he added. “Especially given that my physical form now exists within your blood.”
Jin Shu accepted the sword, gripping the hilt—
—and immediately noticed the expressions on Wang Yue’s four faces.
Pale. Stunned. Uneasy.
He was starting to realize she was becoming less mysterious by the minute. Less like an untouchable immortal from the upper realms, and more like a talented—but sheltered—neighborhood girl who hadn’t seen much of the wider world.
Seriously? Was his robo-buddy rewriting universal laws that shocking?
He laughed it off, though inwardly he was sweating bullets.
Why didn’t anyone tell me my blood was a god's clone?
Wang Yue stared at him and finally asked, very carefully, “What… the fuck?”
Jin Shu opened his mouth—then closed it again, settling for a shrug.
“I don’t know either.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Am I from the upper realms, or are you?”
Another shrug.
Nano ignored the exchange entirely and continued his explanation.
“I integrated technological and crafting insights directly into the blade, while further enhancing its sharpness. It should be capable of severing the red string of fate bound to your finger.”
Wang Yue froze.
“To cut the red string of fate,” she said slowly, “you would need to cut through fate itself.”
“Yes,” Nano replied, nodding. “This Metal Element can do that. Though its effect is currently limited to this soul space.”
She stared at the sword for several long seconds.
“Fine,” Wang Yue said at last. “If it works, I will compensate you for all the trouble my family and I have caused.”
Her gaze hardened.
“But if it doesn’t… then you will allow me to seal your soul. And you will accompany me when I return to the upper realms.”
Jin Shu frowned. “I thought you said I wasn’t qualified to reach the upper realms.”
“That was before I learned you have a god’s clone living in your body,” she replied flatly. “If you aren’t qualified…”
She looked at him like the answer was obvious.
“…then who is?”