Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 290 The Mother Goddess Disintegrates in the Sea of Reproduction

Chapter 290 Mother Goddess Disintegration - Sea of Procreation
She didn't kill anyone.
She died in childbirth.

It is not an attack.

She is producing eternal pain.

The air trembled.

It wasn't due to energy fluctuations or explosive impacts, but rather a lower-frequency, more subtle "gestation"—

It was as if the entire city of the mysterious skeletons was being slowly "womb-ized".

The red mist, like liquefied breathing, tumbled between the ground and the ruins, and the structure seemed to collapse in the direction of returning to the mother body.

Angela Herrington's lower body is fully exposed.

Her [Blood Embryo Mother Core] card activated, accompanied by the rhythmic pulsation of the uterine nerves, causing the flesh cavity to tremble like collapsing cosmic alveoli.
The rings of "star pattern tire rings" rotate slowly, like a biological clock.

Twelve "biological embryos" slid out of her body.

They are covered by an unclosed amniotic sac, their limbs are not fully developed, and their skulls are damaged and cracked. They are connected to their mothers by a "logical umbilical cord."

Like living combat organs on cables connecting to the womb.

Every embryo has a pair of eyes.

But it had no pupils.

Only the rotation number is displayed.

Y/α17, K/Ω23, ΛσX0……

They are not sequences of numbers, but fragments of unfinished incantations, like a splicing error that died before a language was even born.

They landed, leaped, and crawled.

They never stand upright, but rather leap, crawl, and ambush like upside-down apes, using twisted ribs and misaligned limbs.

There is no guttural sound.

Silent, yet possessing a chilling "vitality of life".

Angela smiled softly.

She watched them "born," like a mother weaving cloth watching blood-red silk being cut by hand into a baby's murder garment.

"The first wave has successfully implanted."

She raised her hand, and the umbilical cord snapped like a cable breaking, causing twelve embryos to leap up simultaneously and rush towards the seven main characters.

—

Lynn immediately unleashed "Silent Gray Mist," a gray mist sweeping across the sky, erasing the boundaries of the battlefield, causing the three embryos to experience sensory dislocation and their take-off angles to be directly disrupted.

Natasha reactivated her dual pistols with the Frost Target skill, and Hermina accurately shot through the spine. Lucia followed up with a penetrating bullet, splitting the target's sternum.

But she saw that the embryo did not fall over.

Before it broke, the corners of its mouth turned up slightly—revealing an extremely pure, even childlike, "hunger smile."

—

Nobuna pulled out the Book of Fate, attempting to forcibly execute the "Elimination of Divine Forgery".

The moment the pen tip touched the number, the embryonic form spontaneously "cancelled its existence," like a spell reversed by code, turning into a pool of blood and broken curse fragments under her pen.

Her heart sank; she understood:
"These are not living things."

“These are her body’s ‘functional organs’.”

—

Herman fiddled with his pocket watch, trying to erase its chain of identification.

However, the three embryos in front of him had no identification records.

"……empty?"

"Are they born with an attack trajectory?"

They have no "past".

Therefore, it cannot be forgotten.

—

The card in the hand of the God of Fate was as sharp as a blade, and he threw it out.

The umbilical cord of one of the embryos that was struck was severed, and its body twisted and disintegrated in mid-air.

But in that instant, he heard it.

Auditory hallucinations, such as crying:

"Mommy...Mommy...we haven't opened our eyes yet..."

The God of Fate's wrist trembled slightly.

These monsters are not weapons.

Rather, it is a pathological manifestation born from the entanglement of the mother's reproductive instincts and neurotic obsessions.

—

The ground began to expand, and the red mist boiled, like the regurgitation of placenta.

Angela opened her arms and sang a lullaby in a gentle voice, as if she were humming a lullaby next to a cradle.

“You are ‘children who did not want to be born’.”

"Then Mother can only bring you back into the world by her own hands."

She lowered her head, and a single tear of blood slid down her dignified face.

It's not because of pain.

Rather, it is the nurturing emotion of the caregiver.

She raised her hands, and the second card appeared:
【No.9782·Blood Ancestor's Nurturing·Tears of Herrington】

The sky cracked.

Two milky-white spheres, resembling twisted spinal cords, slowly rose into the air, from which flowed hot and viscous thought fluid, like high-dimensional slurry spilled onto the battlefield.

Two semi-transparent spirits appeared among them.

— Twin spirits, side by side.

One of them had his eyes closed, his knuckles spinning the blood vessels, and a silent ripple emanated from his body, as if he were constructing a "dream logic".

One person is expressionless, constantly muttering in broken sentences, with a rhythm like a newborn practicing language and repeating syllables in their cry.

They are not combat units.

They are—living bedtime story agencies.

Each of their whispers was a mental upheaval;
Each time they rotate their knuckles, it delays the path of their conscious commands.

This is not an attack.

This is to lull you into a dream.

When you most want to be sober.

The first to be hit was Hermann.

He was about to activate the "Amnesiac" ability to strip a numbered embryo of its identification memories—the pointer was at the critical point, and the pocket watch was about to snap.

Sudden.

—A break in thought.

A voice that didn't belong to him echoed in his mind, gentle and moist, like amniotic fluid flowing into his ear:
"Hermann, you were born to please me."

The voice was devoid of emotion, yet its gentleness was chilling, as if some pre-set "birth script" had suddenly overstepped its bounds.

The second hand of the pocket watch stopped abruptly, remaining motionless between Hermann's knuckles.

He abruptly took three steps back, almost staggering and falling, his pupils dilated, and he muttered to himself:
"...What the hell is this...?"

Nobuna was not spared either.

Just as she was about to put pen to paper and write the next stroke in the Book of Fate, she suddenly heard a familiar yet unfamiliar whisper in her ear.

That's not the wind of the battlefield.

Instead, it was a whisper from the ghost behind him, close at hand:

"Your sister is already waiting for you to return to the womb."

Nobuna's hand trembled.

The direction of the soul thread suddenly changed, almost misjudging the fate as the target and writing a stroke towards the wrong destiny.

She stopped abruptly, cold sweat beading on her forehead.

Lynn's pocket watch also malfunctioned.

Her "time-cooling speed" suddenly started fluctuating irregularly, and the pointer was delayed by 0.3 seconds.

The brief pause caused the anchor point to become blurry and doubled in her field of vision, almost affecting the next step of anchor point determination.

She gritted her teeth, struggling to hold onto the logic that hadn't yet crumbled.

Natasha loaded her dual pistols in advance, but at the last moment before firing, the bullet trajectories inexplicably deviated by three degrees.

The hit point was off, and the identification core was not penetrated.

She sneered and muttered a curse under her breath:
"...This is not inducement."

It is 'native language infusion'.

They all understood.

This is neither a physical attack nor a mental interference.

This is a deeper rewriting of the source logic of thought.

Angela, through her twin spirits, is directly inputting "existential guidance" into their mental structures using their "mother tongue."

—

But just as this "auditory devouring" was about to completely engulf the battlefield—

Ding!
A playing card sliced through the air like the sound barrier breaking, instantly severing an invisible mental chain.

The blood-red sound stream twisted and went off track in the air in an instant.

In the fog, the God of Fate stood motionless.

With a flick of the finger, the second card flew out diagonally.

A whisper carried on the wind, like dice settling:
"...Nine of Hearts, reversed, diagonally placed."

The third card was thrown, embedding itself in the eye socket of a lingering embryonic image attempting to weave a web of mental energy.

"King of Spades, three consecutive tails, disbanded type."

The cards rotated, shimmering with a faint golden light, like ripples on a poem being turned.

Si Ming's eyes narrowed slightly, reflecting the chaos of the battle, yet he remained as calm as a gambler in the final moments of a deadly game at a gambling table.

He wasn't waiting for a miracle.

He is creating a script offset point.

The fourth card was spun three times, then flicked from between the fingers, tracing an arc as it flew through the air:
"Fate turns against you."

One of the twin spirits paused slightly, its knuckles stopped abruptly, its whispered words briefly broke, and its mental ripples instantly caved in.

Si Ming chuckled softly, his voice low, yet it sounded like the instant a chip was revealed:
“You’re using ‘mother programming’.”

“I’m using the 'Gambler System'.”

The fifth card flew out, and he read it softly:

"Fortune has not returned, and favor has been absent."

"Then—I'll press down on this hand and give you a look."

boom!
The fifth card hit.

A ring of fate runes exploded from the ground, forcibly backfiring on the left side of the twin spirits' consciousness source, forcing them into a state of "low-frequency vibration".

Natasha seized the opportunity immediately and shot him through the heart.

Lynn quickly reset the "time anchor" and readjusted the recognition logic.

Nobuna's Book of Fate reopens, and her pen falls to the ground:
“Spiritual Name: False Sound Evil”

"—Removal from the list."

The twin beings were shattered, their recognition system was disrupted, their voices were interrupted, and their minds were fractured.

The other entity let out a scream similar to a baby's cry, and in its panic, it transformed into a blur of light and shadow, escaping into Angela's womb corridor.

—

Angela was not angry.

She simply lowered her head and sighed gently, almost sadly:

"It seems that you have already begun to—actively 'refuse to listen'."

Her tone remained gentle, as if she were coaxing a restless child to sleep.

“Then Mother… should raise her voice.”

next moment.

The red horizon began to expand.

It's not a flame.

It's not the tide.

Rather, it was a tsunami of flesh and blood.

That was the deep uterine wall membrane rolling back, trying to swallow the entire Star Bridge area back into her body cavity.

The moment Angela unleashed her third Mysterious Card, everyone sensed the change on the battlefield almost simultaneously.

The earth trembled.

But it wasn't a vibration; it felt like the contraction of some kind of organ.

It was as if the world beneath her feet was no longer a battlefield—but rather the lining of her uterus.

【No. 9783·Primordial Uterus·Red Sea Nurturing】

A huge "biological structure nest" slowly emerged from the ground.

It has no support and no stable structure.

It has no feet.

It has no roots.

It floats in the air, yet it seems to be firmly suspended at the end of the real system by some kind of "nerve signal".

Its structure resembles a biological jigsaw puzzle stacked upon consciousness—

Metal bracket;

Umbilical cord cable;

The central uterine cavity.

Each layer is like a delusional simulation of biology in a programming language.

It is not a living organism.

It is not a machine. It is "the essence of the will to reproduce".

Like an island floating in the sea, or like an interface of a superdimensional organ forcibly embedded into the real dimension.

It has no eyes, but every "tentacle" seems to be visible.

Those tentacles wriggled incessantly, slowly and steadily inserting themselves into the subsystem architecture of the surrounding battlefield, attempting to seize the rule interfaces and replace the root directory of the battlefield's laws.

At that moment, the rules themselves began to tremble.

From the depths of the mother nest, Angela's voice rang out softly, carrying a rhythmic quality reminiscent of being wrapped in the placenta, reaching everyone's ears.

"The Deep Descendants of Herrington—Arrival."

The first "embryo warrior" fell from the mother nest.

Its form is almost impossible to define biologically: it is like a fusion of a human fetus and a star map structure, with semi-solidified and semi-transparent limbs and a body that swells like an air sac.

The moment it landed, its surface exploded, and dozens of thin, navel-like "numbered blades" burst forth from within, like a newborn baby trying to cut the world apart with its "name".

The first wave was aimed directly at Lynn.

Lynn reacted quickly, immediately summoning the Calamity Knight to leap onto his horse and block the attack.

The horse neighed through the air, and the knight swung his blade, severing three umbilical cords. However, the shockwave was too strong, and she was still forced to retreat four steps, her face turning pale.

The second embryo flew towards Selene like an arrow.

Blood flames surged, their tails intertwining, and Natasha fired—Hermina struck her in the sternum, and Lucia followed up with a shot to lock her head in place.

However, they failed to kill them completely.

Before it was frozen, it gave Natasha a chilling "newborn smile" with half of its still-unformed face.

Herman frowned and raised his hand, attempting to erase the attack trajectory with [Amnesia Pointer].

failure.

He muttered under his breath:
"...Empty? They haven't even finished building their memories, and they've already entered the attack path?"

The third embryo rushed towards Nobuna, and she forcefully summoned the demon to intercept it.

But then he heard the ghost whispering in his ear:

"This is not a summons."

“This is herself—proliferating.”

Everyone finally realized.

This is not the BOSS releasing a skill.

This is not a fight.

This is—Angela activated her organs.

The brood mound is not a technique.

She is the mother nest.

Every drop of blood, every umbilical cord, every implanted embryo is an extension, clone, and regeneration of the systems within her body.

The most terrifying thing is the accompanying whispered prompt:

[If the King-level breeding beast is not eliminated within five minutes, the automatic battlefield regeneration mechanism will be activated.]

Angela will automatically recover from all damage, blood loss, and offspring damage.

The battlefield will be "reformatted" into a breeding platform.

Si Ming narrowed his eyes, his voice deepening:

"If we can't eliminate the ovary before she completes her 'five-minute delivery window'..."

Lynn chimed in, adding coldly:
"She will become—an indestructible planetary calamity mother goddess."

At that moment, Angela lowered her head.

She didn't roar.

She murmured softly, her voice like she was lulling a baby to sleep:
"They didn't come here to win."

"They came here—to be rewritten."

She gently stroked her belly, her eyes softening:

"Thirteen is my god."

"And you are the gifts I sewed for him."

She is not a fighter.

She is a "version maker".

She wanted to turn this war into a collective pregnancy ritual.

A reproductive celebration that feeds the "new life of myth" with the "death of individual will".

The wind began to sweep into the sea of blood.

It is no longer a simple flow of air, but rather a kind of "birth canal signal"—carrying the swirling rhythm inside the uterus, slow, yet irreversible.

The battlefield is like the first contractions of hell at its birth.

The sea of blood surged, and the frenzy of life seeds, like a rushing river woven from an umbilical cord, continuously sent those individuals whose definitions were not yet complete to the edge of the world.

Above this vast tide of corruption, Angela Herrington's figure stands at the heart of the nest, like an uncontrolled pregnant organ in the sky.

She has long since lost her human form.

They are no longer enemies, nor gods.

She was a sick mother who was already dead, yet continued to give birth.

Her voice lacked the majesty of a god and the howl of a demon.

On the contrary, she is gentle.

Like a mother sitting by a crib, gently telling you about her childhood memories.

"The first time I realized I had no respect for 'God' was that afternoon."

"That day, I deconstructed the prefrontal cortex of an experimental ape."

She closed her eyes, as if drifting into some long dream—

"I have discovered that 'God' is nothing more than a label woven from fear and complexity."

"So I began—to construct a new god."

"It does not rely on faith, does not depend on language, and does not need glory."

“I use data, the uterus, genetics and mystery to weave my own logic.”

She opened her eyes, her pupils rolling back like twins in reverse, with blood vessels floating between them like a spiral of umbilical cord.

"Thirteen is my child."

"What you saw of him stabbing me in the abdomen is wrong."

That's not killing.

That was—childbirth.

"He was my first god."

"I gave birth to him with my life, with my love, with my brainstem and my uterus."

Her gaze fell on Si Ming.

She smiled, with a chilling pity in her eyes:

"You think you're a storyteller?"

"No—you are a pregnancy error that never resulted in a successful birth."

"You are the most failed birth canal twister outside of the Thirteen."

As she spoke, she lowered her head and stroked her swollen, fleshy abdomen, where a dark face was emerging.

The outline of thirteen is vaguely embedded, yet it is interspersed with the facial features of the God of Destiny and the projection of a star chart.

She wasn't being sarcastic.

She was "recognizing relatives".

She wanted them to understand:
This is not an attack.

She is "summoning their second birth".

What she really meant was never, "I'm going to kill you."

What she wanted to say was:
"I just want you back into my body."

"restart."

"Let me...give birth to you again."

These whispers are not language.

They are structural sound wave contamination, a form of thought manipulation that infiltrates the consciousness layer through "maternal logic".

Natasha's movements began to show slight delays, her finger's rhythm on the trigger became erratic, and the muzzle drifted.

Hermann's pocket watch began to show a 0.8-second deviation, the recognition model was disturbed, and the predetermined variable collapsed.

Lynn's time anchor point generation failed, and redundant logic layers piled up, causing disorder in the recognition and write-back process.

In Nobuna's destiny book, the signature entry "Minako Mijinin" unexpectedly appears—something she never wrote at all.

Selian's tail flame exhibited a "fetal movement-like reversal," indicating that her spirit body's recognition mechanism was becoming disordered, even generating a "confirmation of belonging" to Angela.

Si Ming looked up, and he knew—

This is not a misconception.

This is not mind manipulation.

"She didn't convince us."

“She is infecting our ‘logic roots’ and implanting herself as the ‘subject’.”

He whispered:
"This is a distortion of the understanding of fate."

At this moment, Zhuang Yege's Death Tide Domain also began to tremble.

He felt a sharp pain in his chest, his body slumped, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

Time remaining: 4 minutes.

He said no more.

He knew that how long he could hold on depended on whether they could interrupt this "pregnancy narrative".

The sky began to turn upside down.

It's not a visual overhaul.

It is a "reversal" in a physiological sense.

Angela raised her arms high, her chest cavity completely split open, revealing a constantly wriggling "nucleus of fetal movement" inside.

A spiral of blood membrane unfolds from within, spanning the entire sky, as if—the sky itself has been shattered into a "gate to the womb".

That's not a portal.

It is not a domain breach.

That was her way out.

"Zhuang Yege's door is for you to escape from."

"And my door—is so that you may return."

She tapped her fingertip lightly, and the Star Bridge trembled.

The edge space of the teleportation channel began to be pulled, and the frequency that originally carried the "escape wave" in the void was captured and tampered with by her "mother tide".

The race received the summons once again and charged forward as a whole.

—This is her final move:

"Turn the door of escape into the door of childbirth."

"To bring you back to life."

All seven attacked at the same time.

Nobuna charged into the center of the battle line, opened all her life books, and had her arms wrapped around the back demon, executing the "Renaming and Sealing Technique" to lock down each of the return numbers one by one.

Herman gritted his teeth and turned the second hand of his pocket watch, forcibly placing the first fifteen life forms into the "zero memory clearing zone," causing them all to collapse and self-destruct within three seconds.

Lynn burned his sanity to the limit and forcibly activated "Time Delay Rewrite" to use his own consciousness to hold up the star bridge coordinates from collapsing.

Natasha bit her lip and activated the [Sixth Shot]. The bullet didn't hit the enemy, but instead shot into her own shadow, drawing out the sealed "Hunter Self".

Selene's blood flames erupted, and her blood claws slashed down, forcibly severing the already formed "Blasphemy Path".

The God of Fate stands at the very front.

He didn't shout, "I'll break down her door."

He simply raised his pen slowly.

The void trembled, and the Lord of Destiny manifested a thousand-faced mirror array, echoing across the star bridge.

He included "her"—Angela Herrington—in the narrative blocking sequence.

His voice was very soft.

"You want to have us."

"Then I will write down the ending of our 'unborn' existence."

He put down his pen and wrote five characters:

"Anti-pregnancy - A Story"

The ink marks transformed into seals, affixed to the edge of the "gate of the womb".