The "Survival on the Train" game has bugs, it's really laggy!

Sixteen infrared lasers.

Precisely and meticulously, it was fixed firmly on the forehead of that emaciated body.

Red dots danced on the withered skin, as if marking a corpse for the last time.

Before the fragments of the blast door even hit the ground, a black tide rushed in.

Team 1. Team 2. Team 3.

The fully armed tactical task force stepped over the shattered alloy door panels, the hydraulic joints of the power armor emitting a dull "hissing" sound. The cold white beam of the tactical flashlights brutally cleaved through the dark golden gloom, illuminating the broken life support pod in a ghastly white light.

The sounds of depleted uranium armor-piercing rounds being loaded echoed throughout the room.

The high-frequency electromagnetic acceleration coil attached to the muzzle lit up with a faint, eerie blue electric arc.

Sixteen people. Sixteen sets of heavy powered armor. Sixteen high-frequency electromagnetic rifles.

Each gun was aimed at the same target.

The emaciated skeleton in the life support pod was too weak to even turn over.

The tactical team leader walked at the very front.

Inside his fully enclosed helmet, the HUD display was frantically refreshing various data and warning pop-ups. His heart rate monitor showed 152, far exceeding the normal range. His hands were shaking. He knew he was shaking, but he couldn't control it.

Because of the top of his head.

That thing.

The three-colored maw pierced through the ceiling, embedded between the reinforced concrete, with dark golden patterns of law spreading in all directions along the shattered structure. Thick mist slowly seeped from between the teeth, like the warm breath of some living creature.

The mist of true source matter drifted down and landed on his power armor shoulder armor.

"Zzz."

The bulletproof coating on the shoulder armor was smoking.

The tactical captain's calf twitched.

But he clenched his back teeth.

"Don't look up!"

His voice, amplified by the helmet's loudspeaker and electronically filtered, sounded cold and decisive. But only he knew that his tongue was going numb.

"That thing is a virtual projection! It's the interference of brainwaves at the physical level! It can't harm us!"

He's lying to himself.

He was also deceiving his subordinates.

But at this moment, he had no other choice.

"Kill the 001 body first!"

He stared with bloodshot eyes at the skeleton that had just opened its tricolored vertical pupils, feeling his heart pounding like a war drum in the chest cavity of the power armor.

"Open fire at will!"

The moment the order was given, the entire 001 laboratory turned into hell.

Sixteen high-frequency electromagnetic rifles roared simultaneously.

Depleted uranium armor-piercing rounds exited the barrel at three times the speed of sound, each leaving a pale blue trail. High-energy lasers shot out from auxiliary modules mounted under the rifles, their snow-white beams crisscrossing and cutting through the shattered laboratory.

Ballistics calculations are accurate to the millimeter.

Sixteen directions, completely airtight.

Bullets and lasers wove together an absolute net of death, pouring down on the skeleton inside the life support pod, who couldn't even stand up.

The armor-piercing projectile's warhead was 30 centimeters from the center of the projectile's forehead. 20 centimeters. 10 centimeters. 5 centimeters. 2 centimeters. 1 centimeter.

then.

The air made a sound.

It wasn't an explosion. It wasn't a collision.

It was a thick, muffled sound, like the entire space being squeezed by a fist.

"Gurgle."

All armor-piercing rounds stopped.

All lasers were stopped.

Suspended in mid-air.

One millimeter.

It was exactly one millimeter away from the brow of that skeleton.

Sixteen depleted uranium armor-piercing projectiles hovered motionless at their respective trajectory endpoints. The blue arcs on the warheads continued to leap, and the armor-piercing cores continued to spin. But they wouldn't move forward.

It wasn't blocked.

It is the action of "moving forward" itself that is negated.

High-energy lasers are even worse.

The photons stopped.

In the physical sense, a photon has a velocity of zero, like a piece of white icicle frozen in the air.

The entire laboratory was frozen in time.

The tactical captain's pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints.

He saw the reason.

It wasn't the hand from the descendant on the roof.

It's in the life support pod.

That emaciated body.

It is raising its hand.

Slowly. Tremblingly. As if waging a powerless battle against gravity.

One finger.

index finger.

An IV tube, yellowed with age, was still inserted. The liquid inside had long since dried up, leaving only a layer of brown residue clinging to the inside of the tube.

It's this index finger with a discarded tube stuck in it, so dry it looks no different from a chicken claw.

There is a touch of black on my fingertips.

Pitch black.

Pure.

Absolutely.

"negative".

That black hue spread from her fingertips, like a drop of ink falling into clear water. Silent. Slow. It could even be described as elegant.

It spread to those hovering armor-piercing projectiles.

It spread to those solidified lasers.

There was no explosion.

It did not break.

There wasn't even a sound.

The armor-piercing projectiles have disappeared.

The laser disappeared.

It wasn't blasted away. It wasn't melted.

It has been completely erased from the concept of "existence".

Sixteen depleted uranium armor-piercing rounds turned into a flurry of gray iron dust, drifting silently into the remaining nutrient solution at the bottom of the life support capsule.

When the iron powder touched the surface of the nutrient solution, not even a ripple appeared.

Quiet.

It was unusually quiet.

The silence was so profound that everyone's ears began to ring.

The tactical captain's fingers, gripping the rifle, turned white.

It's not pale. It's the kind of white that comes from having all the blood drained out.

His tactical flashlight was still on. The cold white beam of light shone on the life support pod, illuminating the skeleton in every detail.

He saw the index finger clearly.

He saw the black figure clearly.

He saw clearly those three-colored vertical pupils that had just opened and should not have appeared in any human eye sockets.

Dark gold. Pure white. Jet black.

Three colors swirled within those deep-set eye sockets, carrying a predatory aura from the depths of the virtual universe that made every pore on his body explode.

These eyes.

The eyes of a dying experimental subject should not be like those of someone who has just died.

These are the eyes of a monster that has devoured gods.

"Retreat! Retreat, retreat, retreat!"

Someone in the team collapsed first.

The voice cracked, like a rooster being choked. He frantically retreated, the hydraulic joints of his power armor emitting overload warnings due to the violent leg movements.

"That's impossible! He doesn't even have the strength to walk! This doesn't conform to the laws of physics!"

He was screaming.

He's going crazy.

The roars were like a virus, instantly infecting the entire tactical squad.

The formation has collapsed.

The sixteen-man steel line crumbled into chaos in two seconds. Some retreated. Some spun around in place. Some lost their rifles, the metal clanging against the floor.

Only the tactical captain didn't move.

It's not that he doesn't want to move.

He can't move.

His legs were no longer under his control.

His legs trembled like drums inside the power armor. He could hear his kneecaps repeatedly striking the metal walls inside the armor's cavity. A series of sharp, cracking sounds.

But he moved his hand.

He dropped the rifle from his right hand.

He slammed his hand down on the button on the power armor's chest, which was protected by a red silicone shell.

"Bang!"

The silicone shell is broken.

The button is lit.

A pale blue light.

"Quantum disruption generator, activated!"

His voice was extremely hoarse.

This is his last trump card. A final measure specifically designed to interfere with brainwaves. By releasing quantum pulses of a specific frequency, it forcibly severs the reverse influence of virtual data on the real nervous system.

In theory, once this thing is activated, all the abnormal brainwave activity of the experimental subjects in the life support pod will be instantly interrupted.

All power projections from the virtual universe will also cease simultaneously.

hum-

A layer of dark blue pulses radiated outwards from the center of his sternum.

Extremely fast.

It covered the entire life support capsule in less than half a second.

Blue arcs of electricity danced across the surface of the pulse grid. The metallic mesh pattern completely enveloped the life support capsule.

"It's been cut off! The signal has been cut off!"

Someone in the team looked at the data readings on the power armor's HUD, their voice trembling with relief.

"The intensity of the brainwave interference is decreasing! Fire now! While you're at it—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

Sounds came from inside the life support pod.

It's very light.

The hissing sound of dry, cracked lips.

Then came laughter.

"Oh."

"Hehehe."

The skeleton inside the life support pod, which should have been completely suppressed by the quantum pulse network, is laughing.

The laughter was hoarse and dry, like two sheets of the coarsest sandpaper rubbing against each other. Because the vocal cords hadn't been used for who knows how many years, the sound was broken, like shattered pieces of porcelain.

But he was laughing.

And the more they laughed, the bigger it got.

The blood vessels at the corners of his mouth stretched even longer from laughing.

Then my chest lit up.

In the very center of that withered chest, with its clearly defined ribs, a vortex silently bloomed.

Dark gold. Pure white. Jet black.

The three colors intertwine to form a rotating vortex.

What's inside the vortex isn't energy. It's not a law.

It is something more primitive and more fundamental than either of these.

The true source.

The deep blue quantum pulse network touched the edge of the tricolor vortex.

"puff."

Like a soap bubble meeting a flame.

The entire pulsed mesh evaporated the instant it came into contact. It wasn't broken down. It wasn't cut. The quantum states within the mesh structure were directly rewritten by the tri-color vortices, altering the underlying parameters. The working principle of the quantum disruptor was "negated." Its physical basis was "created" in a new form.

The new version's feature is: it doesn't work.

"No--"

The tactical captain finally made a move.

He turned and ran.

But he only took half a step.

Because the descending body on the roof moved.

Su Yuan leaped down from the crown of the three-colored giant mouth.

No running start. No power build-up.

It was very natural, like walking down a staircase, that they fell from the head of the three-colored behemoth.

His body began to disintegrate as he fell.

It didn't shatter.

It has melted.

Start with the toes. Then the calves. Knees. Thighs. Waist and abdomen. Chest. Shoulders. Neck. Until finally, even the face with a mouthful of fangs melts away.

His entire body transformed into a streak of light as he fell.

Dark gold. Pure white. Jet black.

The interwoven tricolor light traced a straight arc in the broken laboratory, cascading down from the gap in the ceiling.

It didn't touch the wall. It didn't touch the floor. It didn't touch the iron filings still floating in the air.

It encountered the life support capsule.

It touched the area that the quantum pulse network had just covered.

Without any hindrance.

There wasn't even the slightest hesitation.

The streak of light pierced through all physical barriers. It pierced through the remaining metal shell of the life support pod. It pierced through the pipes still dripping murky liquid. It pierced through the air above the skeletal chest cavity.

Then it crashed headfirst into the chest of the main body.

"Buzz!!!"

The air in the entire 001 laboratory was completely sucked out in that one second.

It's not a metaphor.

It was truly drained.

The moment the three-colored light streaked into the body's chest cavity, the vortex expanded wildly, and the resulting suction force pulled all the air molecules within a three-meter radius into the center of the vortex.

The space that had lost air was refilled after 0.1 seconds.

Airflow rebound.

Shock wave.

A real, physical shock wave spread outward from the center of the life support capsule.

The two tactical team members who were still trying to retreat were directly thrown over by the shockwave. The power armor rolled several times on the ground, crashed into the wall, and became embedded in the concrete.

Several people in the distance were pushed and tumbled by the blast wave.

The tactical captain clutched his head and lay face down on the ground, his power armor visor pressed against the cracked concrete floor. Through a gap at the bottom edge of the visor, he could see the direction of the life support pod.

He saw it.

The skeleton is changing.

The pipe broke first.

The dozen or so IV tubes and monitoring lines of varying thicknesses inserted into his body were all broken. Not pulled out, but snapped from the inside. His muscles were swelling. His fibers were reorganizing. His skin, once so dry you could count the lines, was becoming plump at a rate defying human physiology.

His sunken temples bulged out.

The sunken eye sockets were filled back in by muscles.

The dead skin on my cheekbone is peeling off, revealing the new skin underneath, which has a dark golden hue.

The nails that had rotted from being soaked in nutrient solution for so long fell off. New nails grew from the nail bed. They were hard and shiny. They didn't look like nails. They looked like claws.

"Click. Click-click. Click-click-click—"

The sound of bone remodeling.

It starts from the spine. Each vertebra cracks. With each crack, the body twitches and grows taller.

The spine has been lengthened.

The scapula has expanded.

The outline of the chest cavity changed from a pathological concavity to a broad outward arc.

The ribs are no longer clearly defined.

Because flesh has grown on the ribs.

These are real muscles. Not the kind you can build in any gym. The fiber structure of every muscle exudes a beast-like explosive power. A sense of strength seeps out from beneath the skin, like a spring that has been compressed countless times and is finally released.

Then comes the bone armor.

The dark gold Abyss Dragon Bone Armor, covered with dragon scale-like patterns, emerged from the skin's surface.

First, the forearm. The bony overlying tissue spreads upwards from the wrist like bamboo shoots breaking through the soil, enveloping the forearm. Then the upper arm. The shoulder. The chest.

"Snap! Snap! Snap!"

The bone armor is growing faster and faster. Each piece of bone cladding makes a crisp snapping sound as it fits together.

From chest to back. From back to waist and abdomen. From waist and abdomen to thighs.

Less than five seconds.

A complete set of dark gold abyss dragon bone armor covered his entire body.

On the surface of the bone armor, three-colored law patterns flowed spontaneously. Dark gold lines of order. Pure white paths of creation. Jet-black runes of negation. The three colors intertwined on the bone armor, like living tattoos.

The life support capsule shattered.

It wasn't broken into pieces.

It was that reborn body that kicked it out from inside.

"Bang!"

The entire life support capsule crumbled under that one step. Metal fragments and the remaining murky nutrient solution flew in all directions.

Su Yuan's foot landed on the ground.

Broken glass was scattered all over the floor.

The bone armor's feet sank into the shards of glass, producing a fine cracking sound. Even more devastating than the shattered glass was the tactical squad's last psychological defense.

He stood there.

1.85 meters tall.

Broad shoulders and a narrow waist. The dark gold Abyss Dragon Bone Armor clung to the reshaped contours of his body, gleaming with a cold metallic sheen under the remaining red alarm lights of the laboratory. Three-colored law patterns danced across the surface of the bone armor, as if some living creature were crawling beneath his skin.

A section of the IV tube, not completely broken, was still hanging around his neck.

He glanced down at it.

Reach out, pinch the tube, and gently pull.

The tube was pulled out from below his collarbone.

There was no blood.

The wound healed the instant the tube tip left the skin. Not a single scar was left on the newly formed skin.

He casually tossed the pipe on the ground.

Then he saw the quantum disruptor generator.

Right next to where the tactical captain was lying, there was a square metal box with a flashing blue indicator light. It had been knocked to the ground by the shockwave.

Su Yuan bent down.

He picked up the metal box with his left hand.

He sized him up for two seconds.

A slight movement of the fingertips.

"Crunch."

The super-hard alloy casing crumpled in his palm like tin foil. The sound of the circuit board cracking muffled in the deformed metal gaps. The blue indicator light went out.

He let go.

A lump of scrap iron, crushed into a ball, fell to the ground with a "clang".

It rolled twice on the cement floor littered with broken glass and dried nutrient solution, then crashed into a section of the robotic arm and stopped.

Quiet.

A deathly silence.

Sixteen tactical team members. At this moment, zero of them are still in combat stance.

Three are still standing.

Zero of them dared to look up.

It took the tactical captain eight seconds to get up from the ground. It wasn't that he didn't want to be quick. The power armor's servo system malfunctioned due to the shockwave, and the hydraulic joint of his left leg was stuck in a semi-flexed position.

He knelt there.

Raise your head.

The eyes behind the mask met Su Yuan's tricolor vertical pupils.

He had never seen anything like it in any pair of eyes in his entire life.

It wasn't murderous intent. It wasn't anger.

It was an almost nonchalant, ant-watching gaze.

Then Su Yuan raised his eyes.

The tricolored vertical pupils coldly swept over the tactical squad members scattered throughout the laboratory.

It's sweeping very slowly.

It looks like they're counting the quantity.

He raised his right hand.

Fingers loosely spread. Palm facing upward. Nothing at all.

But in that instant, the temperature in the entire laboratory plummeted by fifteen degrees.

This isn't a sensory perception; it's actual temperature. The temperature sensors on the tactical crew member's power armor simultaneously displayed a warning pop-up.

Su Yuan tightened his grip by an inch.

The void cracked.

Starting from the palm of his hand, countless dark golden vines burst forth from the void. Each one was as thick as an adult's thigh. Each one was covered with obsidian-like scales and tri-colored law patterns.

They didn't emerge from the cracks.

It "grows" from the gaps between molecules in real space.

The true source material grants them the authority to exist in the physical world.

"No no no no no—"

Someone is screaming.

The vines were faster than the screams.

The first vine struck the tactical team member closest to Su Yuan.

The power armor is said to be able to withstand direct fire from a 12.7mm anti-materiel rifle.

The vines pierced through the armor like they pierced through a wet tissue.

Entering through the chest. Exiting through the back.

The dark gold tip pierced the armor's backplate, sending up a spray of shattered alloy fragments and broken wiring. Sparks flew around the wound. The power armor's alarm system beeped briefly, then fell silent.

The person fell silent.

The second vine lashed out around the other person's waist. The power armor was sliced ​​in two. The upper half slammed into the left wall. The lower half lay on its side. The contents of the middle section scattered all over the ground.

Red. White.

Article 3. Article 4. Article 5.

Vines swept across the laboratory.

Each trajectory is so precise it doesn't seem like a random stroke. They know exactly where the weak points of each suit of powered armor are: joint connections, visor seals, and back ventilation vents.

It is more efficient than any human martial art.

Because efficiency is built on overwhelming force. No skill is needed. Only greater force, faster speed, and harder materials.

All three are met.

"Even alloy walls can't stop it."

Su Yuan said those words.

His voice was hoarse and dry. His throat hadn't fully recovered. Every word he uttered sounded like it had been sanded out.

But the meaning is expressed very clearly.

Because two tactical players were trying to run out the door.

The vines caught up with it.

The 30-centimeter-thick alloy partition behind them was also ripped apart.

The sound was awful. It was a mixture of the sound of metal tearing and another, wetter sound.

Six seconds.

From the first vine breaking through the air to the last tactical player falling to the ground.

It lasted six seconds.

Sixteen incomplete power armor wrecks were found in the laboratory.

Red liquid seeped from the gaps in the armor, mixing with the murky nutrient solution remaining on the floor to form a pool of mixed colors.

The vines retracted. They returned to the void.

They came without a trace and left without a trace. Apart from the mess on the ground, they left no other mark.

The laboratory fell silent again.

All that remained was the deep breathing of the three-colored giant mouth overhead and the dripping sound of water leaking from a distant pipe.

Monitoring room.

The screen is black.

All the camera equipment in Lab 001 had already been eaten by the three-colored giant mouth.

But the sound is still there.

Because there's a spare audio pickup unit in the corner of the lab, embedded deep in the wall, that's still working.

So the four people in the monitoring room—the manager slumped on the floor, the short researcher slumped in front of the control panel, and the other two assistants huddled in the corner—didn't see anything.

But they heard everything.

Gunshots.

Then came an even shorter silence.

Then came the sounds of metal tearing, bones shattering, and armor being crushed and deformed. And then there were the screams. Short and sharp. Most lasted less than half a second before being cut off. A couple were a little longer, but not by much.

Then silence returned.

The manager sat on the floor, the back of his head against the metal edge of the control panel. It was where he had hit his head when he leaned back earlier, and it was still bleeding. But he felt nothing.

His eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

The pupils were dilated to an abnormal degree.

His lips were trembling. No sound came out.

His pants were wet.

The water seeped from his crotch down to his thighs. A small, dark gray puddle of water appeared on the floor beneath him.

He didn't notice.

Or perhaps they noticed, but no longer cared.

The shorter researcher was in even worse condition.

He was curled up under the control panel, his hands covering his head. His ten fingers were clenched into his hair, his knuckles turning white. He was rocking back and forth slightly, repeating the same phrase over and over.

"Impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible..."

The sound grew fainter and fainter. It became increasingly fragmented.

Like a toy whose battery has run out.

The entire monitoring room was filled with a suffocating despair. No one spoke. No one moved. Even breathing was done as quietly as possible, as if afraid that something would follow the sound.

Su Yuan walked a few steps through the pool of blood on the ground.

With each step the bone armor took, it emitted a faint metallic knocking sound and the sound of liquid being broken underfoot.

He walked up to the remains of the tactical team member, who had been torn in two by vines.

Bend over.

From the chest area of ​​the half-armored power armor, they pulled out something that was still flashing a faint blue light.

Military communication terminal.

A rectangular metal plate, twenty centimeters long. There are dents at the corners, but the screen is still lit. The screen displays a dense array of data waveforms and a constantly rotating three-dimensional coordinate model.

Su Yuan picked it up.

The left eye twitched slightly.

In the center of that pure white vertical pupil, a flash of pitch-black negation power appeared.

One by one, the encrypted blue firewall icons on the communication terminal went dark. It was as if someone had turned them off one by one. It wasn't a cracking; their "existence" was denied.

The firewall is gone.

The encryption layer is gone.

All the data stored in the communication terminal was laid out page by page in front of Su Yuan's tricolor vertical pupils, like a book with its cover turned.

Base underlying architecture diagram.

Staffing.

Distribution of experimental subjects.

Route of energy pipelines.

as well as--

coordinate.

Su Yuan looked at the set of coordinate data.

The vortex of the three-colored vertical pupils spun twice. Then it stopped.

Behind him.

The three-colored giant head of the Emperor's Path Devourer, which squeezed into the real world from the crack in the sky, emitted a deep rumble that made the entire building tremble.

Inside the carriage. Xiao Huo rested his hands on the control panel.

His golden vertical pupils were filled with tears, but he was smiling.

His smile was both silly and radiant.

Because he sensed it.

The master's original form has come back to life.

That signal, that resonant wave carrying the warmth of real flesh and blood, emanated from his own chest cavity, made his core fruit throb peacefully.

It is alive.

It is hot.

it is true.

He controlled the massive maw of the Devourer to unleash that roar.

It's not a deterrent.

It is a response.

It was a loyal behemoth telling its king: I am here. I am ready at any time.

Su Yuan heard the roar.

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

But he didn't turn around.

He was still looking at that set of coordinate data.

The expression on his face, starting from the slight twitch of his lips, gradually froze.

The vortex within the tricolored vertical pupils spun slower and slower. Then it stopped spinning altogether.

Pupil constriction.

It shrank to the extreme.

"The Milky Way Spiral Arm..."

His voice was so hoarse it sounded like it was coming from underground.

"Wasteland New Calendar Year 3042..."

The coordinate data on the communication terminal pulsed coldly. Each set of numbers was accurate to eighteen decimal places. The projected three-dimensional star map was not the solar system. Not the Orion Arm of the Milky Way.

It is a completely unfamiliar spiral arm of a galaxy, for which no corresponding entry can be found in any Blue Star astronomy database.

Su Yuan stared at the data, squeezing out the last few words.

"This...isn't Earth at all?"

The moment the sound fell.

The vortex in Su Yuan's tricolored vertical pupils suddenly spun wildly.

He suddenly looked up.

Look up.

Look at the dark hole left after the giant skull of the Devourer pierced through the ceiling.

Above the gap are layers upon layers of building structures: steel bars, concrete, metal pipes, fiber optic cables, and more steel bars and concrete.

Hundreds of meters thick underground rock layers.

Su Yuan raised his right hand.

Palms facing upwards.

Dark golden law patterns spread from his palm to his fingertips, and a faint but firm tri-colored glow shone on the joints of each finger.

He pushed upwards.

It's not strength. It's will.

Tens of thousands of dark golden vines erupted from his palm, covered with obsidian scales and tri-colored law patterns, like a towering raging flame bursting from the bottom of hell, shooting straight up from that gap.

The steel bar broke.

The concrete crumbled.

The metal pipe was snapped by the vines and bent to both sides, causing the liquid inside to spray out.

Tiny electrical sparks flew when the data fiber was snapped.

layer.

Two layers.

Five floors.

Ten floors.

Thirty floors.

The vines keep climbing.

They drill upwards. They tear upwards. They swallow upwards.

With each layer of the building structure you pass through, more debris and dust fall from the gaps.

Su Yuan stood there, his head and face covered in dust. His bone armor was coated with a mixture of powder and nutrient solution.

He doesn't care.

He is waiting.

Waiting for that ray of light.

Thirty seconds later.

He got what he was waiting for.

A ray of light shone down from hundreds of meters above.

Passing through layers of architectural structures torn apart by vines.

Passing through the flying dust and debris.

Passing through the gaps between the dark gold vines.

It landed on his face.

A murky light.

It carries a morbid, unhealthy warm tone.

It's like sunlight that has been filtered through too many layers of atmospheric impurities, leaving only the last bit of residue.

Su Yuan narrowed his tricolor vertical pupils.

Looking up with his face covered in dust.

The vines spread across the ground at the top layer.

From this angle, it looks like an irregular, round hole has been torn open hundreds of meters above the ground. Sunlight streams in through the opening.

But that light was wrong.

The color is wrong.

It's not the kind of sunlight found on Earth.

It leans towards purple. It leans towards red.

After merging with the true source essence, Su Yuan's vision could no longer be measured by normal multipliers. He looked up through the hole, past the still-falling debris and dust.

He saw the sky.

It's purplish-red.

It's not the romantic purplish-red of a sunset.

It was a murky, sickly purplish-red, as if the entire atmosphere had been polluted by some kind of toxic gas.

The clouds rolled very low, so low that it felt like you could reach out and touch them.

The clouds were a deeper color, a dark purple, with faint red lightning flashing within them.

Beneath that wasteland and sky.

He saw the ground.

A desolate wasteland.

Cracked. Grayish-yellow. Like a dead land that had been drained of all its moisture by something.

Huge pieces of mechanical wreckage were scattered on the ground. Some resembled the chassis of some kind of transport vehicle. Others looked like the outer shells of building modules. There was also a huge, rusty mechanical arm lying on the ground—the kind used in industrial applications—tens of meters long, with its joints completely rusted shut.

The wind blew in from the cave entrance.

Dust and sand swirled around it.

There's also an indescribable, complex odor, a mixture of metallic rust and the smell of decaying organic matter.

Su Yuan smelled it.

Every olfactory nerve ending in the nasal cavity reacts to this odor.

This is not virtually generated odor data.

This is real.

The wind was real. The sand was real. That sickly, crimson sky was real. Those rusted mechanical wrecks on the earth were real.

It's all true.

The real Earth.

It's long gone.

Su Yuan stood at the bottom of the deep pit torn open by vines.

Hundreds of meters above, there was a desolate wasteland under the sky.

Beneath my feet lay pools of blood and shattered glass.

The sour smell of the nutrient solution mixed with the metallic rust smell from the outside, filling his nasal cavity.

He lowered his head.

His eyes were fixed on the military communication terminal in his hand, whose screen was already half-broken.

The coordinate data is still fluctuating.

Wasteland New Calendar 3042.

Galaxy Arm. GR-7784-Delta Region.

Su Yuan held the communication terminal tightly in his hand.

The fingers covered in bone armor tightened.

The screen made a faint cracking sound in his palm.

The vortex of the three-colored vertical pupils began to spin again.

slow.

stable.

It carried a hunger that made even the sky above this wasteland change color.