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How long has Wang been rubbing this weiqi stone between his fingers?

From summit to tomb, from brilliant play to orthodox, proper move.

With the rite-takers as pieces, Black strives for victory in the games parlor that is devoid of linearity.

Stretching out to piece together layers of time, tying together unmet cause and effect.

The Placation in the Garden, the seeking of memories past, the descent into the Tomb, the blot of ink on the open scroll—

Finally, after prevailing over countless trials, after forsaking the endgame, he places his final stone, so reliant on humanity.

This may be the most dangerous of the bestial Sui's many absurd delusions.

If It abandons Its body in the wake of Its awakening, swallows up the proxies, steals Chongyue's body for Its own, and hides in the shadow of the earth, none will know how It will construct Its fortress of vengeance over the years.

But now, this delusion has reached its end.

Wang supports the fallen puppet, steadily placing it upon the ground.

The empty body's eyes stare straight ahead, but Wang knows that after the defeat of Sui's consciousness, all those eyes can see is the darkness of the void.

With a flick of his sleeve, the body dissipates, leaving only a few motes of light.

This was a battle where Wang relied upon the power of his siblings and the stalemate between humanity and 'Chongyue', skillfully peeling away emotion, memory, consciousness, and cognition from the delusion.

When imagination goes where it cannot go, willpower cannot bring itself fully to bear. All that is left is what Wang planned for.

Purity, perfection, just like those twelve obsessions born from dream.

Little Moji flies out from the team of rite-takers, inquisitively pacing back and forth by the motes.

As an instrument born from ink to seek memories, searching for an imagination is in its nature. And it is this very nature that allows it to lead the group in finding Sui's most dangerous ideas.

But the future it deserves as a living creature does not lie here.

After it has eaten and drunk its fill, the little thing lies down to sleep, leaving only one of its creators cradling it in his arms, with a care he has never before shown humanity.

Which of you shall receive the seal?

What did you send us to do?

The sights we saw while searching for that seal. The flames, the devastation, and the suffering. Even after defeating the Grandmaster's body, nothing has changed...

Wang does not answer her. He simply holds up Little Moji, hinting at Leizi to accept it.

After some hesitation, Leizi reaches to take the sleeping 'seal', and hands it to the Candleholder behind her.

Now, can you give us an—

Leizi has barely even thought of asking for an explanation when Wang sends her out of the Tomb of Sui, alongside her entire cohort.

Even if he had answered them, those leaving the Garden of Grotesqueries would not be able to remember it. That much Wang knows for sure. He has always been stingy with his words, unwilling to do anything without reason.

This is as far as humanity can go on this board. Outside the Tomb, in the nation of Great Yan, there is still an entire game called life waiting for them.

As for the other reason...

This one of the hundred and eighty-one must remain in this tomb, to continue playing with that unawakened god.

Though leaving humanity to deal with fate is a dangerous proposition, they need only abide by common sense, and ignore what human morality deems evil. The lack of change merely simplifies the calculation.

Only by sending them and Little Moji away, only by stripping away all humanity and mercy, can Wang let go and face Sui's ever-evolving, bone-snapping, marrow-sucking malice.

Before the one move where he grasps life, he has already extinguished his hope.