Everything was happening exactly as the diary had foretold. Charles was about to be killed by the arc of light.
Fear did not enter his mind; he was still trying to think of a way to save himself, but the arc of light gave him no time.
SWOOSH! The immense net materialized before him. The arc of light began to slice through the rocks towering over him, reducing them to gravel. He was doomed, completely finished.
Just as the giant silver net was about to envelop his head, Lily, who had been on his shoulder, scrambled onto his head, braced her four paws, and leaped straight for the silvery net.
The moment the two made contact, in a flash—FWOOSH!
A gentle sunlight devoured everything: the Floating Island, the pink eyeballs, and Charles with his crew.
Amid the dazzling glare, Charles didn't feel his body being torn apart. The crisis had been dissolved by the sunlight.
The scent of the sun slowly filled his nostrils. This was true sunlight.
