Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 393 The Crack of Fate

We are born imprisoned by fate.

Every struggle was tightly bound by the shackles of fate.
Only by facing the darkest abyss,
Only then can one understand the true meaning of one's own existence.
—From *The Dream Weaver's Notes: The Chapter of Destiny*

The door slammed shut, all was silent, and the world instantly became a silent tomb.

Si Ming slowly opened his eyes. The dim, yellowish light slowly seeped into his vision, as if countless cold eyes were staring at him in the dark, filled with a suffocating unease and oppression.

He subconsciously held his breath, his eyes cautiously scanning his surroundings.

The scene before me was like a nightmare from which I would never wake up—a narrow, endless hospital corridor stretching into the depths of darkness.

Above, the shattered fluorescent lights flickered with a dying rhythm, emitting a faint and unsettling electrical hum, like ghosts whispering.

The dim light shone on the mottled walls, where mold and stains intertwined, and faintly visible, eerie dark red patterns appeared—the marks of ancient, dried blood, as if a long-forgotten history was slowly awakening.

The air was thick with a pungent, putrid, and acrid smell, as if some nameless substance was growing in the shadows, slowly eroding the mind of the God of Destiny.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry as paper, and an overwhelming sense of fear and doubt welled up inside him.

He took a tentative step, the tiles beneath his feet making an unsettling, clattering sound that echoed outwards like ripples, only to be swallowed up by the endless darkness.

He frowned slightly, his heart feeling as if it were being slowly clenched by an invisible hand.
A blurry and distorted shadow flashed through his mind—it was himself, yet utterly unfamiliar, like a hidden hint, telling of some truth he was trying to escape.

"Why here..." Siming murmured softly, his voice filled with an undisguised sorrow and bewilderment, "Is this the ending I am destined to face?"

He was met only with an empty silence, and the slime on the walls began to slowly seep out.
The viscous, dark red liquid flowed silently like the blood of an alien creature, accompanied by faint wriggling and low breathing, as if the hospital itself were alive, watching his every move.

Si Ming's heartbeat became increasingly erratic. His gaze swept over the ground, where a strange, sticky liquid was slowly seeping from the cracks in the tiles, and the ground undulated and rippled like skin.

His breathing became rapid, and a chilling sensation suddenly rose from his back.

The surrounding space seemed to gradually lose its fixed shape, and the boundaries between the walls and the floor in the field of vision constantly twisted and intertwined, forming a series of dazzling and eerie scenes.
It was as if space itself was mocking his helplessness and powerlessness.

Just as Si Ming was caught in confusion and doubt, a faint yet clear whisper suddenly rang in his ears. The voice was like a distant star, yet also seemed close at hand, a mocking smile filled with icy sarcasm:

"Master of Fate... do you really think you can control your destiny? Don't you know that you are just one of countless failed shadows?"

Si Ming suddenly turned around, his pupils contracted, but all he could see was boundless darkness and a deeper void.

His heart pounded violently, and the sound gradually increased, transforming from whispers into a bizarre chorus of countless interwoven voices, piercing and frantically assaulting his reason:

"Your struggles are futile; every step you take leads to a predetermined end..."

Si Ming's breathing became more and more rapid, and the fear in his heart clung to his nerves like vines. He suddenly turned around and ran, trying to escape the whispers that followed him like a shadow.

But as he ran, he suddenly realized that the corridor had no exit and that all he could see was endless darkness.

Finally, he stopped, his body trembling slightly from heavy breathing.

He closed his eyes, desperately trying to suppress the panic and despair surging within him. Yet the whispers in his ears grew clearer, as if they were taking root in his heart, gradually replacing his own voice:
"The more you struggle, the closer you get to your inevitable fate."

Darkness swept in again like a tide, the deep corridor seemed to stretch endlessly forward, and only the sound of one's own hurried footsteps echoed in the emptiness.

Si Ming's heart pounded violently like thunder, striking her fragile eardrums.

He struggled to control the surging fear within him, gradually bringing his disordered breathing back to normal.

However, just as he relaxed his tense nerves slightly, an ancient and cold roar suddenly surged from the depths of darkness.

Siming's heart tightened suddenly, and he instinctively stared at the end of the darkness.

The pale fluorescent light flickered eerily, the dim light intertwining with the darkness, and deep within it, several pairs of scarlet, hungry pupils emerged, coldly watching him like stars.

His breath caught in his throat, his gaze meeting the endless darkness, as if the abyss itself were staring back at him.

Accompanied by low, suppressed breathing, several twisted alien beasts slowly emerged from the shadows—they were man-eating dogs mutated to the extreme, their bodies charred and cracked, with nauseating crimson starlight seeping from the cracks, as if flowing with blood.

Their bodies were twisted and grotesque, their sharp teeth gleaming with a cold luster like steel blades, and their corrosive saliva dripped onto the ground with a sizzling sound, filling the air with a faint smell of burning.

Siming's pupils suddenly contracted, a chill rapidly rose up his spine, his mind was filled with blankness, and he had no time to think, instinct drove his body to retreat rapidly.

However, the cannibalistic dog gave him no chance to catch his breath; its low growl suddenly turned into a ferocious roar.

It pounced on wildly and violently, filling the corridor with a noisy and fierce thud. Filthy slime splattered everywhere, and the space seemed to shatter and tear apart under this bestial ferocity.

Almost instantly, Si Ming activated the Illusory Corridor, and several illusory clones appeared around him, attempting to disrupt the enemy's perception.

However, to his horror, the alien hounds ignored the illusion and pounced on the real him without hesitation. The shrieking sound of their sharp claws cutting through the air was like a mocking whisper of fate, brushing past his ears.

"How is this possible..." Si Ming was shocked and overwhelmed, his chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind like a storm.

The crimson eyes of those strange beasts gleamed with an eerie light, as if they were born with the ability to penetrate illusion and lock onto reality.

At that moment, he suddenly realized that the power he had always relied on was so fragile and powerless in the face of certain destinies.

He could only run desperately, each step feeling like stepping on a blade woven by fate. The intense pain and torn muscles gradually exhausted his spirit and will.

His footsteps echoed through the endless corridors, and the howls of the beasts behind him sounded like the approaching death. Si Ming felt an unbearable pain in his chest, and his breathing felt as if he were about to vomit his own heart out.

"Have I really never escaped my fate?" Despair and self-doubt surged up like a tide, blurring his will.

In that brief moment of disorientation, a cannibal suddenly accelerated, its claws flashing like lightning, tearing his back apart.

The pain shot through Si Ming's body, blood gushed out, and he fell heavily to the ground, the intense pain and fear almost completely engulfing him.

The beast pounced again, but he endured the pain and instinctively rolled on the ground to avoid a fatal blow.
He gritted his teeth, stood up, and ran for his life. His consciousness gradually blurred, the end of the corridor seemed as distant as a phantom, and despair slowly swallowed him up.

On the edge of life and death, various past scenes flashed through my mind like a dream.

He had manipulated illusion and reality with precision countless times, but now he was being toyed with by fate like an ordinary person.

"Was everything I did before just a futile act of self-deception?"

A bitter feeling spread through Si Ming's heart; the road before him seemed like an endless, recurring nightmare. The familiar, cold whisper echoed in his ears once more:
"Look at yourself now, how pathetic and incompetent you are... All your struggles are meaningless in the face of true fate."

The shame and anger instantly ignited the last bit of fighting spirit in Si Ming's heart. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down. Just as the alien beast approached again, what suddenly came into view was a heavy iron door engraved with scarlet alien patterns.

"That place... might be my only hope!"

Siming charged toward the iron gate with all his might. The beast pounced again, its claws slicing through his shoulder. Ignoring the excruciating pain, he used his last strength to smash open the door, rolled inside, and slammed the door shut.

"boom!"

A tremendous crash echoed outside the door, and the beasts roared furiously and madly. Si Ming leaned against the cold door, blood dripping from his body onto the ground. He trembled uncontrollably, overwhelmed by pain and fear.

After a short while, his consciousness gradually returned.

A cold, rotten smell permeated the entire operating room. In the center stood a huge, purplish-black cocoon of flesh, its surface pulsating and writhing, with dense veins crawling like swarms of insects.

The alien runes flickered with an eerie crimson light, and Si Ming suddenly felt excruciating mental pain.

"What exactly...is it?"

He struggled to regain his senses, muttering to himself. Suddenly, the cocoon trembled violently, cracking open with jagged fissures, and gushing out alien fluid that emitted a pungent, bloody stench.

Si Ming had nowhere to retreat; behind him lay a chilling despair.

The cocoon crack gradually widened, and a figure slowly emerged, accompanied by a strange, viscous sound that was nauseating.

Si Ming's pupils contracted sharply, and fear overwhelmed his mind like an icy tide.

The person who walked out was actually an extremely twisted and insane person—himself!

The other party stood silently in the darkness, its entire body covered with star scales as deep as the void, with faint starlight flickering uneasily between the scales, as if mocking fate itself.

His face was greedily devoured by countless parasitic tentacles, and in the center of the twisted and hideous face, Si Ming could vaguely recognize his own image—the nightmare reflection he had once glimpsed in his dreams.

That face wore a strange and manic smile, like a shadow lurking in a mirror.

"We've finally met, my dearest self..."

The alien host, Siming, spoke in a low, hoarse voice, like the murmur of billions of nightmares resonating together.
With an irresistible, twisted allure, permeated with a madness capable of shattering the spirit: "You've struggled, fled, and resisted all this way, just to witness this inevitable end?"

Si Ming stared intently at the monster before him, his voice trembling slightly with anger and fear, like a leaf on the edge of a storm: "What... exactly are you?"

Although he already had an answer he didn't want to admit in his heart, when this bizarre yet real mirror stood before him, the truth, like a sharp blade, still severed his confidence and rationality.

The alien host grinned maliciously, its countless tentacles writhing and twisting like living creatures.

It exudes an indescribable malice: "I am the darkest fear in your heart, the shadow you have never dared to look at but which has always existed."

You tried countless times to suppress me, to escape me, but look where you ran to! Now, how lowly, how helpless you are.

Si Ming's clenched fist trembled slightly, his knuckles pale. He tried his best to remain calm, attempting to use reason and willpower to overcome the fear growing in his heart.

But the other person's whispers penetrated his soul like thorns, binding all his struggles tightly and making it difficult for him to break free.

The alien host slowly spread its arms, and a strange, star-like radiance flowed out like mercury.

The message filled the room: "You once thought you were different, possessing the power to manipulate fate. But have you truly seen things?"
You are nothing more than one of countless puppets in the hands of fate; all your struggles and resistance are destined to be nothing more than a self-deceiving pantomime on this stage of destiny.

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire operating room suddenly began to twist violently.

The air was filled with countless, barely audible yet mind-destroying whispers, and a torrent of incomprehensible alien languages ​​poured down like a raging flood.

It rapidly eroded the already shattered mental defenses of the God of Fate.

The walls, floors, and even ceilings rapidly mutated and grew under the invasion of alien energy, sprouting countless wriggling limbs and tentacles that spread outwards with bared teeth and claws, like countless greedy hands reaching out from the depths of the void.

One by one, star patterns symbolizing the truth of the alien world quietly emerged from the void, layer upon layer, completely engulfing the space that originally belonged to humanity.

The Starry Realm unfolded completely like a nightmare, and Si Ming could almost feel his spirit being torn apart and devoured little by little by this irresistible force.

The alien host, Siming, spoke again, his voice brimming with barely concealed excitement and fervor, like a prophet who had witnessed the end of his own destiny:
"Accept it, this is your true destiny, this is the fate you cannot escape!"

Si Ming gritted her teeth and struggled to resist the despair that was rapidly spreading in her heart.

His heart pounded, and a faint but tenacious flame of anger and resistance ignited within him. Despite being utterly exhausted, he remained resolute and determined.

"Do not."

The voice of the God of Fate was deep yet powerful, like the final rebellion of a dying person against fate:

"You are nothing but a shadow to me, a possibility of failure. There is only one true master of destiny, and that is me. I will never submit to a monster like you."

The alien host threw his head back and laughed, his voice sharp and piercing, like the stars simultaneously emitting a malicious mockery:
"What a naive struggle... Unfortunately, under the judgment of the stars, all your efforts will ultimately be nothing but meaningless futility."

Accompanied by maniacal laughter, the starlight suddenly intensified, sweeping in like a tidal wave of whispers from billions of stars, carrying a vast power capable of shattering the soul, instantly engulfing Si Ming's rationality.

A clear and cruel realization suddenly arose in Si Ming's heart: an ultimate, fateful showdown with his own shadow was now unavoidable.

He took a deep breath, straightened his body, and, with a determined and intense gaze, stared at the darkest version of himself before him.

“Then let it come,” Si Ming said softly, his words carrying a resolute determination, “Let me end you with my own hands, and end this miserable fate!”

In the darkness, the gears of fate have begun to turn slowly, and only one of the judges and rebels of the stars can remain.

Fate is like a tightly woven spider web.

Every thread connects to your deepest fears.

Only when you personally sever the shadow born from within yourself,

Only then can you truly take control of your own destiny.

But remember: in the battlefield of fate, there are no victors.
Only through continuous struggle and resistance.
—Excerpt from "The Dream Weaver's Notes: The Book of Fate's Judgment"

(End of this chapter)