The Decaying Dream of America: I Assemble Corpses and Confront Madness

The legendary Old Alley Postman has arrived with his new work, "Rotten Dreams of America: I Assemble Corpses and Face Madness"!

Lena returned to the modified all-terrain vehicle. She casually closed the door, and a cold wind, mingled with dust and the sweet, metallic scent of the wasteland, rushed into the cabin. This wind seemed to carry an indescribable sense of decay and dampness, as if swept from a long-dead, lifeless land, seeping into every pore. Her body felt hollow; she sat mechanically in the driver's seat, only the barely perceptible trembling of her fingertips betraying her inner unease. Her face was as pale as paper, her eyes filled with an unyielding heaviness, and her hand gripped the modified gun tightly, pointing it at the ground, her knuckles white from excessive force. Mud and dust left mottled marks on her protective suit, showing that her search within the checkpoint had not been easy, but rather a testament to both mental and physical torment.

The bone fragment she had brought back from the checkpoint still lay quietly at Jeremy's feet. Its morbid gray-green color appeared even more terrifying in the dim light, as if it were still emitting a corrosive glow. This glow was not a reflection, but an intrinsic, spontaneous radiance, as if life force had been twisted to its extreme. The grotesque bite marks and the bizarre twists on the bone, each mark like a silent mouth, tore at reason, silently telling of the secrets hidden deep within this land, and the existence of some unconventional predator.

Lin Zheng sat in the back seat, his entire body tense from a fierce mental struggle, his muscles trembling involuntarily. Sweat soaked his clothes, clinging to his skin with a cold, sticky sensation. Deep within his consciousness, those primal perceptions he had forcibly "recalibrated" still surged restlessly, like magma suppressed beneath a volcano, constantly eroding his self-imposed mental defenses, threatening to erupt again at any moment, dragging him into deeper chaos. He struggled to suppress the savage and chaotic impulses within him, clenching his teeth to maintain a facade of calm, but each breath felt like a battle against an invisible pressure.

Lena's low, hoarse voice broke the deathly silence in the car, carrying uncertainty and a hint of despair. Her voice sounded more tired than usual. "These things... are definitely not any of those mentioned in the company files." She paused, her breathing becoming heavy and rapid, as if each word had exhausted her strength, or as if she was trying to calm an indescribable fear.

Her gaze swept across the carriage, landing on the unconscious Arthur, her worry deepening. "Where have we stumbled into?" Her question was not only directed at the team, but also at the silent inquiries of this wasteland, an unanswered echo reverberating through the carriage.

Lin Zheng stared at the twisted, biting marks on the bone fragments—marks left by a primal and cruel force, perfectly matching the primal malice he had just sensed on a spiritual level. An unprecedented chill ran through his soul, like icy venom, instantly coursing through his body, leaving him feeling as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

The scene of corroded metal inside the checkpoint flashed vividly in his mind: grayish-green flesh clung to skeletons, and unseen beings whispered ancient incantations, their voices sharp and piercing, almost tearing his consciousness apart. The cold rationality honed within him while assembling the "Gundam" now told him that the danger of this wasteland was far deeper and more primal than they had previously imagined. It was not merely an abandoned ruin, but a living, hostile, primal chaos. This chaos even transcended the realm of understanding and coping with technology and order, pointing directly to the very origin of existence.

Just then, a high-frequency propeller whirring pierced the dim twilight, like countless fine steel needles pricking eardrums, sending shivers down everyone's spine. It was the distinctive noise of a small aircraft, rapidly approaching from afar. This sudden sound jolted everyone in the vehicle, their nerves tensing, preparing for the impending threat.

Jeremy's grip on the modified all-terrain vehicle's steering wheel tightened, veins bulging on the back of his hands. His gaze swept across the sky through the windshield. Several drones belonging to the company's pursuers, shaped like black predators, their sharp lines sketching an aura of death against the dim sky. Invisible exhaust pipes beneath their wings emitted hot fumes, distorting the air in the twilight. Their low humming sounded like the whisper of death, or the provocation of some ancient raptor, making Jeremy involuntarily tense as he appeared above the border of the Ochre Maze state.

They hovered in mid-air, massive beams of searchlight shooting from their bellies, crisscrossing and casting cold, white arcs across the desolate land, seemingly conducting some kind of wide-area scan, attempting to drag them out of this vast expanse. Each beam of light was like a merciless chain, ready to bind them at any moment, dragging them back to that cold urban prison.

Lin Zheng felt a sharp pain in his chest, as if his heart was being tightly gripped by an invisible hand. Although he had just used his "Mental Restructuring" talent to stabilize his mind, facing these mechanical eyes that symbolized order and pursuit, his weary nerves tensed up again, and all his defenses were reactivated, like an old wound reopening. Each buzz of these drones was like a cold judgment from the depths of the city, representing that the vast and oppressive world he had once fled had now surrounded him again.

However, an unexpected and chilling scene unfolded. After a brief pause in the air, the drone swarm suddenly emitted a series of piercing mechanical alarms. The sounds were sharp and urgent, as if some logical chain within the machines had been forcibly snapped, carrying signs of extreme chaos and disorder. Those cold electronic sounds stood out starkly against the vast wasteland, filled with the abruptness and disorder of a forced termination, as if an unseen hand had brutally severed their operational commands. They seemed to have encountered some invisible barrier, a powerful resistance never anticipated in their coding, a force far beyond the company's technological comprehension, rendering them unable to advance even an inch further.

Immediately afterwards, all the drones abruptly changed direction, their flight attitude shifting from its previous cool precision to an almost panicked haste, like a flock of startled crows scattering abruptly. The roar of their engines quickly faded into the distance, disappearing in the direction they had come from, leaving only echoes trembling in the wind. They didn't even fire a single bullet, nor utter any warnings, as if driven away by some unseen force, fleeing in disarray.

Everything happened too fast, almost beyond everyone's comprehension. The people in the car looked at each other, their faces filled with doubt, confusion, and a hint of fear. This unusual retreat was far more unsettling than a direct attack, because it hinted at a deeper, more unknown threat.

Lena lowered the muzzle of her gun, the wariness in her eyes not completely gone, replaced by a deeper confusion. She murmured to herself, her voice extremely soft, as if questioning the wasteland itself: "They... just left like that?" Her voice carried a strong doubt about reality, awe of the unknown forces, and a deep unease.

At the same time, above the dashboard of the modified all-terrain vehicle, their encrypted communicator emitted a short, crisp beep, and the screen flickered, a faint light standing out conspicuously in the darkness. Lin Zheng suppressed his mental discomfort, his trembling fingers reaching out to press the answer button; he could almost feel the subtle pulse of electricity in his fingertips.

A hissing sound came from the communicator, like a signal traversing endless interference and fog. Then, Isabella Rossi's voice appeared intermittently amidst the static. Her voice carried a hint of weariness and complexity, mixed with faint static interference, as if it had pierced through a fog of countless messages, carrying a heavy warning. "You've stumbled into a mess the company doesn't want to touch. Good luck." Her voice sounded deeper than usual, devoid of its usual sarcasm, only a cruel reality and an undisguised solemnity.

Before the words were even finished, the communication was cut off, leaving only endless static, like an empty echo from the depths of the universe, completely isolating them in this desolate wasteland, plunging them into an unprecedented predicament. This brief yet profound message struck Lin Zheng's heart like a heavy hammer, triggering a violent dizziness far more impactful than physical exhaustion. It confirmed some of his previous vague suspicions, but also pushed him into a deeper unease. The company, this omnipresent, all-controlling behemoth, even had a "mess" he didn't want to touch. This almost overturned Lin Zheng's understanding of the existing world, shattering the last remaining illusions he held about "order."

Lena slammed her fist on the steering wheel and cursed, her voice filled with disbelief and anxiety: "A mess the company won't touch? What could it be? Is it worse than the company itself?" Jeremy also frowned, his eyes filled with undisguised vigilance, ready to deal with anything that might happen, but his unease was also written on his face.

Lin Zheng didn't respond. He stared blankly out the car window at the desolate and distorted wasteland, now even more barren after the drones had left. In the distance, wind-eroded boulders, like the remains of ancient beasts, cast long shadows in the twilight, blurring the horizon. The scorched earth and bloody stench in the air intensified, a deep, primal smell of death piercing his lungs, making him feel suffocated.

He could feel that invisible voyeuristic desire, no longer the vague impact it had before, but now focused and cold, like a tangible gaze upon him. It carried a pure and immense malice devoid of any emotion, as if spreading from the depths of every inch of the wasteland, from every pebble, from every drop of moisture, forming an invisible, enormous field of will that was firmly enveloping them.

The silence of the drone's buzzing created an eerie stillness in the wasteland. Only the distant breeze rustling through the car windows and the suppressed breathing of the occupants remained. It was a silence as if a trial had been suspended, more unsettling than any clamor, like the calm before a storm, concealing a greater, more unpredictable danger.

The last rays of the setting sun were completely swallowed by the horizon, and night poured down like ink, dyeing the entire world a bottomless black, as if devouring all hope and color. The wasteland was reduced to a blurry outline in the darkness, like an unidentifiable behemoth in the deep sea, lurking and concealing an abyss that devours everything. Lin Zheng felt a bone-chilling cold rush from his feet to the top of his head; it wasn't a physical temperature, but a soul-shaking tremor caused by facing primordial chaos.

Lin Zheng's thoughts couldn't stop. Isabella's warning and the unusual reaction of this land echoed repeatedly in his mind, forming an intricate web. The boundaries of corporate power usually represent the end of reason and order. But now, they had clearly crossed that boundary and entered another realm completely unbound by human laws, a world that only followed its own primal laws, a bottomless abyss of despair.

He closed his eyes, trying to erase the external scene from his mind, focusing on his internal senses and fighting off the rising dizziness. As night fell completely, the energy field deep within the wasteland seemed to be activated, becoming more active and intense, as if countless dormant malices were awakening in the darkness. Lin Zheng felt the ancient wills around him trying to probe his heart. That probing desire was no longer the vague impact it had been before, but had become focused, cold, carrying a pure and vast malice devoid of any emotion, like an invisible ray piercing the depths of his consciousness.

It was like an invisible finger, gently brushing across his every thought, trying to find flaws, decipher his intentions, and even attempt to manipulate his subconscious and distort his judgment. This pure and profound malice was more terrifying than the systemic corruption and cold-blooded oppression of the city, because it transcended all known human concepts, pointing directly to the most fundamental fears and nothingness of life.

His sanity was once again on the verge of collapse. Countless distorted hallucinations began to flash through his mind, like shards of broken glass dancing wildly before his eyes, each pulsation accompanied by a searing pain. Twisted silhouettes of cities leaped before him, and bloodied monsters writhed on his retina, emitting silent wails. The images were so real that he could almost smell the stench of decay. He even saw the horrific scene of himself being dismembered, every mechanical joint torn apart, every wire violently severed, his body convulsing uncontrollably, almost unable to think logically, only instinctive resistance remaining. He felt his spirit being ripped into pieces, on the verge of complete disintegration and plunging into eternal darkness.

A slow, rhythmic "heartbeat," seemingly emanating from the depths of the earth, deep and resonant, accompanied by the invisible "peeping" of the ancient wilderness, made the hairs on Lin Zheng's body stand on end and goosebumps rise on his skin. This heartbeat seemed to resonate with his bloodline, attempting to assimilate him and pull him into some deeper cycle he could not comprehend.

He knew he couldn't completely succumb; he had to grasp every anchor that could pull him back to reality, or he would be utterly lost in this mental chaos. He forcibly used his "Mental Restructuring" talent, a process akin to performing a mental craniotomy without anesthesia. He clearly felt every thought being cut and reorganized, every tear and healing of will; the pain reached his very soul.

Data flowed rapidly from the depths of his consciousness, forcing him to build walls of steel-like will within his spiritual sanctuary to block the eroding primal whispers, keep those mad illusions and primal malice out, and protect his remaining clarity.

He reconstructed in his mind, using Lena's report about the strange creatures and the image of Evelyn struggling to stabilize Arthur's vital signs despite the turbulence, as "anchor points"—the only remaining light of reason in the darkness. Evelyn's calm and professional demeanor, her resilient spirit full of humanistic care, and the fine beads of sweat on her forehead all became Lin Zheng's best shield against the ruthless malice of this wasteland, reminding him of the living, breathing companions around him.

The inhuman curves, jagged bite marks, signs of dissolving metal structures, and the morbid gray-green flesh on the bone fragments described by Lina flashed through his mind like images, becoming a concrete stream of information. This fragmented yet clear information was his weapon against primordial chaos, his only clue to understanding unknown threats, and his only remaining guide in his desperate situation.

He forced himself to connect these inhuman sensory shocks with Lena's professional judgment and Evelyn's unwavering will to fight for Arthur's life from afar. The team's tacit understanding and perseverance made him realize that he was not alone, and this connection gave him the strength to resist that vast and cold malice.

He painfully connected his primal sense of voyeurism with Lena's findings in his mind, cobbling together a vague outline of the threat posed to the Ochre Maze. This was not a single creature or organization, nor even a life form in the conventional sense, but a primal consciousness rooted deep within the land, a pure "being"—it was "observing" them, attempting to understand and devour them, absorbing them completely into its vast and terrifying cycle, making them a part of it.

This consciousness is vast and ancient; its very existence is a threat to all outsiders, a denial of all order and life, like a black hole on a cosmic scale. It is silent yet omnipresent, like a long-awaited abyss, slowly opening its gaping maw, ready to devour them whole. Lin Zheng, seated, weakly gazed out the window, his body trembling slightly from exhaustion, sweat soaking his clothes.

Night fell completely, and the wasteland was reduced to a blurry outline in the darkness. All colors were swallowed by the darkness, leaving only endless depth. The invisible "gaze" became even clearer, as if a pair of eyes belonging to no living being were precisely locking onto him through the endless darkness, locking onto their weak team, and locking onto the fading hope in their hearts.

Those invisible eyes observed them without any emotion, like a predator watching its prey fall into a trap, calculating when it could begin to enjoy its prey. They had been discovered, locked onto by the oldest and most powerful will of this wasteland. A new crisis, far more profound and terrifying than the previous corporate pursuit, was silently descending, pushing them into the abyss of fate.