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

The faint light of dawn, like a pale thread, barely seeped through the narrow iron bars of the cell, barely illuminating the cold and damp prison cell.

The light struggled to move forward in the air, and dust particles floated lazily in the faint beams of light, as if countless tiny ghosts were dancing silently.

The stone wall was covered with traces of condensed water droplets, each drop sliding down slowly like a tear. One drop landed on the wooden table, splashing up a fine layer of dust and making a crisp pattering sound that echoed in the silence for a long time.

The mold in the corner spread like black tentacles, emitting a faint smell of decay, enveloping the entire space in a suffocating and oppressive atmosphere.

Lin Zheng sat up from the simple wooden bed. The rough blanket slipped down to his waist, revealing his work jacket, which was covered in stains and bloodstains. The mottled marks on the fabric told of the ruthlessness of the wasteland.

His muscles ached slightly from prolonged tension, and every joint felt as if it were being eroded by the chill of the wasteland. He rubbed his temples, trying to dispel the lingering fragments of nightmares in his mind.

He still held Samantha Jones's mysterious pebble in his palm; the warmth had not completely dissipated, and the fine engravings on its surface were exceptionally clear in the hazy light, trembling slightly as if they were alive.

The pebble felt warm and strange to the touch, like a beating heart, with a faint buzzing sound that seemed to penetrate his nerve endings.

Evelyn rubbed her sleepy eyes and climbed out of her cot. Her white coat was crumpled, like a crumpled medical tissue, and smelled of a mixture of disinfectant and sweat.

She stretched, her back cracking slightly, her long hair disheveled and draped over her shoulders, her eyes still showing the weariness from reviewing medical records the night before.

She skillfully opened her medical kit, took out a rolled-up gauze, several syringes filled with an unknown liquid, and a yellowed medical record, her movements revealing the professional instincts of a doctor.

The small drawer inside her medical kit creaked open, and the clinking of metal instruments reflected on her focused face.

"The package Brutus threw in last night," Lin Zheng said in a low voice, pointing to the bulging canvas package on the wooden table.

His voice echoed in the empty cell, slightly hoarse, as if the air in his throat was being rubbed raw.

The package was slowly unwrapped, revealing hard, dry bread chunks, salty, pungent cured meat strips, a few shriveled carrot roots, and a bottle of cheap liquor with greasy fingerprints still on the bottle neck.

The bread block was covered with cracks, made a cracking sound when broken, and was mottled with mold inside, resembling a corroded lung.

The marinated meat strips were shiny with oil, but they emitted a pungent, rotten salt smell that made people instinctively frown.

The water bladder was made of worn-out leather, its surface covered with cracks. Whenever it was shaken, a muffled sound of water came from inside, as if whispering the thirst of the wasteland.

The leather cracks on the water bladder spread like a spider web, and felt rough and gritty when touched with fingertips.

"This is what Percy calls 'support'." Evelyn shook her head and smiled bitterly, picked up a piece of bread and broke it open. The dense mold spots inside looked like a black mold network, making her lose her appetite.

Her bitter smile carried a hint of self-mockery, and her eyes flashed with helplessness at the cruelty of the wasteland.

Lin Zheng unfolded the medical record, which was densely covered with Uma's whispers: "The giant stone pillar on the east side of the sacrificial site is engraved with strange runes that are three-folded crescent moons, like scars under the moonlight."

The paper was yellowed and brittle, the ink spreading along the edges like dried blood. His fingers gently traced the words, feeling the weight of history.

"In the Red Clay Throat Farm area, deep within that cornfield lies an ancient altar," Evelyn added, her tone carrying a hint of archaeologist's excitement and wariness.

She paused, her gaze drifting to the hazy wasteland outside the window, the outline of an altar faintly visible among the corn stalks appearing in her mind.

"According to the customs of the local ancient tribes, a blood sacrifice is performed before the harvest season, using fresh blood to irrigate the land to ensure that the crops can grow vigorously."

Those crops with white bones entwined around their roots, though shiny and beautiful on the surface, are permeated with endless vengeful spirits.

Blood seeped into the earth's veins, forming a cycle that awakened the slumbering earth spirits. These secondary entities devoured life force, transforming pain into nourishment.

Evelyn's voice trailed off, as if she were telling an ancient and terrifying legend, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the shape of a crescent moon on the table.

Lin Zheng nodded, took out Samantha Jones's pebble from his pocket, and carefully placed it on the paper.

The stones made a slight tapping sound as they rolled down, and the surface temperature instantly soared, filling the air with a faint smell of burning.

The pebble instantly heated up, and the engravings on its surface lit up as if they had been ignited. The pulsating frequency precisely matched the description of the crescent moon on the paper, as if it had found a long-lost kindred spirit.

Light seeped from the engravings and projected onto the paper, forming illusory, overlapping patterns that were both eerie and beautiful.

"The pebble is responding to the rune." Lin Zheng's voice carried a hint of surprise as he gently traced the edge of the pebble with his fingers.

Between punctures, the stones emitted bursts of pulse, rhythmic like a heartbeat, penetrating deep into his bones.

Evelyn leaned closer to examine it, her fingertips lightly touching the pebble. A warm sensation, like an electric current, coursed through her body, causing her to shiver involuntarily.

A current-like warmth spread from her fingertips to her limbs, her body trembled slightly, and a mixture of fear and curiosity flashed in her eyes.

"This is not a human fluctuation, but some kind of non-human power, which perfectly matches Uma's clues."

Percy's distortion is precisely the connection between the bloodline totem and the earth runes; the energy bridge draws nourishment from the wasteland, maintaining that distorted cycle.

Evelyn's voice trembled slightly as she quickly pieced together the intersection of medicine and mysticism in her mind.

Lin Zheng continued carving pebbles, the engravings under his fingers slowly unfolding like a map, as if telling an ancient secret.

As the veins unfold, a faint fluorescent glow appears on the surface of the pebble, meandering like an underground river.

"The veins of otherworldly minerals in the mining areas of the Rusty Gospel Land are strikingly similar to the patterns on Percy's skin."

When miners unearthed the ore, they accidentally touched it, causing it to mutate. Opioids accelerated this process.

They grew twisted tentacles and metallic bone spikes, transforming into half-flesh, half-machine monsters that howled in the darkness.

Lin Zheng's description was filled with the trembling of someone who had witnessed it firsthand; he recalled the inhuman howls echoing deep within the mining area.

Evelyn scribbled quickly, the pen scratching across the paper, each stroke like a mark of destiny.

Her handwriting was hurried and messy, and beads of sweat slid down her forehead, dripping onto the paper and spreading the ink.

"The flesh-and-blood capital alliance monopolized the entire supply chain, and the rusty transport lines carried parts to the port Gundam area."

Hidden within those parts were seeds of mutation; every rail was soaked in blood; every carriage echoed with cries of agony.

Evelyn added, her voice filled with anger at the capitalist conspiracy, her fists clenching slightly.

The temperature of the pebble rose sharply, and the runes lit up completely, perfectly aligning with the three-fold crescent moon mark on the paper, like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

When the lights come on, the indoor light distorts, and shadows stretch and dance on the walls, like phantoms come to life.

Lin Zheng's pupils contracted slightly. The pebble seemed like a key, unlocking the hidden markings and revealing the path to the sacrificial site.

The path, like a dotted line, appears in the air, pointing to the hidden entrance on the east side.

"This is a navigation tool that points directly to the eastern entrance of the sacrificial site," Lin Zheng said firmly.

His voice was filled with determination, and his eyes burned with the flame of adventure.

Evelyn put down her pen, her gaze fixed firmly on the stone: "The source of the ancient blood, Percy is merely a ritual vessel, connecting everything."

The suffering of the lower-class workers becomes fuel for the upper classes; this wasteland is a gigantic furnace of flesh and blood.

Her gaze was profound, as if piercing through the surface of the wasteland and looking directly into its decaying core.

Suddenly, approaching footsteps came from outside the door, accompanied by the harsh scraping of iron chains dragging across the stone slabs.

The footsteps were heavy and rhythmic, each step shaking the ground and kicking up fine dust.

The iron gate to the residence was violently pushed open, revealing the tall figure of Cross Gray, whose scabbard slammed against the doorframe with a dull thud.

Rust chips fell from the door frame, and Clos's shadow stretched long, covering the entire room.

"The lord's orders are to retrieve supplies from the armory this morning. Brutus is waiting." His voice was as rough as sandpaper.

His words carried an unquestionable command, and a hint of impatience flashed in his eyes.

Lin Zheng quickly gathered up the pebbles, stood up, and put on his jacket with swift movements.

The zipper on his jacket jerked for a moment, then he pulled it tight, feeling the cold fabric against his skin.

Evelyn closed her medical kit and followed behind.

The box snapped shut with a crisp sound that echoed down the corridor.

The torches in the corridor were reduced to ashes, and a cold wind blew in through the cracks in the walls, carrying with it the musty, bloody smell.

The wind carried the pungent, dry smell of dust from the distant wilderness.

Mia Grey's wheelchair came up from behind, and she pushed it, her nurse's uniform gleaming pale in the dim light.

The wheelchair wheels creaked and groaned as they rolled over the stone slabs, like a wounded wild animal.

"Be careful of the sacrificial site; it's not a place for humans," she whispered, her eyes darting around like a frightened bird.

Her voice was barely audible, filled with trembling fear, and her fingers gripped the wheelchair armrests so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Klose rudely pushed the three forward, the hilt of his sword jingling at his waist.

His large hand pressed down on Lin Zheng's shoulder like an iron clamp, the force so great that it made his bones ache slightly.

The fortress's passageways were as winding as intestines, mold grew in the cracks in the walls, and the air was filled with a mixed stench of decay and old blood.

The mold spreads out like tentacles, and when you touch it, it becomes sticky and slippery, with a foul odor that hits your nasal cavity.

After turning a dim corner, light appeared ahead. The armory door was ajar, and the dim yellow light of an oil lamp shone through the crack.

The light, like a flame of hope, was mostly swallowed up by the shadows.

Brutus pushed open the door, and the rusted nails creaked and groaned, as if the old joints were protesting.

When the door opened, a wave of heat mixed with cooking fumes rushed out, making it hard to open one's eyes.

A strong smell of grease and rotting leather filled the room, and weapons and tools were piled up haphazardly, like the remains of a battlefield.

The piled-up weapons were covered in dust, their blades reflecting a dim yellow light, exuding a chilling killing intent.

Rusty blades, bent axes, bundles of torches, and scattered leather water jugs on the ground.

The torch oil soaked the cloth strips, dripping black oil, leaving spots on the ground like bloodstains.

Brutus pointed to the pile of miscellaneous items: "Maps, provisions, water, weapons, take whatever you like." His voice was deep and rumbling like the calm before thunder.

His fingers were as thick as a child's arm, with twisted and deformed joints, showing the marks of years of hard work.

The rough sheepskin map was slowly unfurled, its yellowed surface covered with blurred lines and symbols.

When unfolded, the sheepskin cracked, dust flew up, and the ink smelled of musty herbs.

The map marks the "heart" of the Ochre Maze – an ancient sacrificial site – in the center, with a rough circle around it, and a crescent moon mark next to the stone pillar on the east side.

The ink smudges along the edge of the circle, like fresh blood seeping out.

Lin Zheng placed the pebble in the center of the map. Instantly, the pebble's runes shone brightly, and the markings on the map resonated with it, the lines pulsating as if they came alive.

When the resonance occurs, the entire map seems to rise and fall as if breathing, and fluorescent light rises from the paper.

Evelyn's finger trembled as she pointed to the point of resonance: "Perfect match, the pebble unlocked the path, the eastern entrance is clearly visible."

Her fingers were cold, trembling with excitement, and her eyes reflected a pulsating light.

Brutus's gaze lingered on the pebble for too long, his eyes shifting back and forth between Lin Zheng and the pebble, revealing a hint of barely perceptible greed and vigilance.

His pupils dilated slightly, his breathing became a little rapid, and his large hands unconsciously clenched.

"Nightmare creatures haunt the sacrificial grounds. These things feed on fear; they are deformed forms of flesh and metal that wander like ghosts in the mist."

Their sense of smell is more acute than that of hunting dogs; it can sniff out the very trembling of the soul and devour all the cowardly.

Brutus's voice trailed off, trembling with the memory of his own experience, and shadows of the past flickered in his eyes.

Lin Zheng rolled up the map and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his jacket, his fingers turning slightly white as he did so.

As the map was rolled up, the sheepskin rubbed together, making a rustling sound. The inner pocket was already full, so he stuffed it in forcefully.

"Local miners have seen those monsters. They roared incessantly in the factory at midnight, metal spikes pierced the walls, and blood spurted like a fountain," Brutus added, his voice tinged with a lingering fear.

His description was so vivid, it was as if the roar echoed in the air from afar.

Brutus handed over a heavy sack of grain, and a water sac overflowing with murky water.

The grain sacks were as heavy as lead, and the leather straps dug into my palms, giving me a rough feeling.

Two rusted swords, their edges riddled with nicks, yet still sharp; five torches, their oil-soaked cloths emitting a burnt smell.

The hilts of the swords were wrapped in tattered cloth, which stung the palms when gripped tightly, and the torches were greasy and sticky.

"By the lord's grace, even a failed work can become art." Brutus grinned, his teeth yellowed like rotten bone.

His smile was mocking, and bits of food remained between his teeth.

He turned and left, his broad back blocking the light and casting a long shadow, like the outline of a giant beast.

A shadow loomed over the three of them, like an invisible oppression.

Cross escorted the three back to their residence, with Mia's wheelchair creaking behind them, sounding as if she were weeping.

The creaking of the wheelchair echoed through the corridor, accompanied by Mia's soft sobs.

The door to the residence was locked tightly, and the interior returned to a deathly silence, with only the faint whistling of the wind outside the window.

The chains intertwined, creating a metallic friction that sent dust flying.

Lin Zheng unfolded the map, placed a pebble in the center, and stared intently at the circle of the sacrificial site, where it pulsated like a heart.

A deep hum emanates from the pulse, penetrating deep into the soul.

Evelyn carefully wiped the blade: "We've been drawn into the deepest secrets of the Blood Wasteland; Percy is just the tip of the iceberg."

As she wiped the blade, rust flakes fell off, revealing a faint, cold glint; her hand remained as steady as a rock.

The wind howled in the desolate wilderness outside the door, and the howls of wolves echoed endlessly, like a distant call.

The wind howled, carrying sand that pounded against the windowpane, while the wolf's howl was shrill and piercing.

Lin Zheng gripped the pebble tightly: "From the arduous journey to heal Paxi to the exploration of the abyss, this path is destined to be bloody."

When you grip it tightly, the heat of the pebble seeps into your palm, burning like lava.

Evelyn nodded, her eyes flashing with determination: "The road ahead is fraught with danger, the shaman's curse is ever-present, and Percy's prosthetic eye is yearning for answers."

Her nod was firm, her eyes reflecting the blood-red morning light outside the window.

The circles on the map continued to pulsate, and the path to the eastern entrance gradually took shape, like a giant, open mouth.

The path is as clear as blood vessels, winding its way to the unknown.

The glint of the pebble was like an eye staring intently into a forbidden zone, sending out an eerie summons.

The light was blinding, forcing people to open their eyes.

Their eyes met, and the gears of fate began to turn. The entrance to the abyss of the sacrificial ground slowly opened, ready to devour all the unknown and fear.

Their eyes met, conveying both tacit understanding and fear.

Lin Zheng took a deep breath, feeling the heat emanating from the pebbles. The heat was mixed with ancient whispers, like the murmurs of his ancestors.

A wave of heat surged through my heart, and whispers, like a cacophony of voices, were difficult to discern.

Evelyn examined the torch; the oil-soaked cloth was sticky between her fingers. Images of Percy's deformed body and the horrific sight of metal spurs piercing her flesh flashed through her mind.

In the video, bone spurs wriggle and spurt blood, and she can't help but shake her head to ward them off.

"We must go," Lin Zheng thought, "otherwise, Percy's suffering will be endless, and the curse of this wasteland will devour even more people."

Inner monologues, like vows, resonate deep within the heart.

Brutus's gaze lingered, his greedy eyes like hooks, seducing Lin Zheng's heart.

His gaze followed me like a shadow, impossible to shake off.

Are they allies, or another trap? The journey to the sacrificial site is destined to be fraught with peril.

Questions swirled in my mind, turning into vigilance.

As dawn broke outside the window, the red earth of the wasteland gleamed blood-red in the morning light. The prelude to the two packing their bags and embarking on an unknown journey had already begun.

Blood splattered like the dawn on a battlefield; baggage bulged; footsteps stepped out of their cages; the gates of destiny quietly opened.