Observer: My Pocket World Refuses to Be Sacrificed

I was bound to a damaged [Civilization Observation Platform] that could create worlds.

In the desperate situation of a city besieged by zombies, I casually dropped the first "emotion spore." Electric spirits were born. They worshipped celestial phenomena, established city-states, and suppressed their emotions in the name of stability. Every insight they gained into the "laws of emotion" became a source of strength that helped me survive my own desperate circumstances.

I thought this was just another brutal survival game. Then the spirit civilization I had guided faced ascension, and Elya, the "Wise Sage of Profound Thought" I had personally brought into being, asked me from across dimensions, "Creator, did you grant us intelligence to nurture us, or to harvest us?"

I had no answer.

Because my captain, my enemies, and even the "Starsea Alliance," which controlled infinite space, had already given theirs: treat civilizations as crops and harvest them on a schedule; refine worlds into blood-soaked fields and plunder their power.

They called me an "Observer," yet forced me to become an "Executioner."

The System issued its ultimate mission: sacrifice the four worlds I created, and I could ascend to the highest throne.

In my pocket universe, the galaxy of emotions spun eternally, the mechanical hive murmured and roared, the bloodline Mother Tree nurtured all living things, and the Infinite Library wrote its epics. They waited silently for me to decide.

I clenched the miniature galaxy in my hand.

Then let me defy the Way.