The higher Fang Yi climbed, the more the world began to lose its resolution.
It started with the colors. The vibrant greens of the mountain pines faded into a dull, flat gray, as if the universe was running out of "pigment" for this remote sector. Then came the sound. The whistling wind didn't howl anymore; it became a steady, rhythmic hum—the sound of white noise.
Fang Yi was approaching the Boundary.
In his previous life as a cultivator, he had heard legends of the "Ends of the Earth," where the sky met the sea in a wall of mist. But as a man who had seen the cosmic supercomputer, he knew the truth: he was approaching the edge of the "Map." This was the limit of the rendered environment, the point where the Architect had stopped creating detail because no "particle" was ever supposed
