The workshop was deathly silent. No one answered, yet the head in Ji Jue’s hands seemed to twitch ever so slightly, almost as if it were curious. But that was nothing more than an instinctive spasm caused by the encroaching aberration. Its eyes remained empty.

Ji Jue sat in a chair, sighing as he stroked the head in his hands. “It’s really lonely in here. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in ages. Good thing you dropped by for a visit. If this went on much longer, I might’ve had to find a volleyball, draw a face on it, and make it my friend.”

The head remained silent, as hollow in essence as the replica itself.

“What does the world look like to you?” Ji Jue asked curiously. “I don’t mean what’s right in front of you, or somewhere far away, or even Leafway Island. I mean this world.”

He raised a hand, spread his fingers, then slowly curled them into a fist.

“The sensation of touching something, the wind against your face, the smell of rain when it pours, the pauses between heartbeats, your pulse… Every last detail feels exactly the...