Deep Sea Starship Apocalypse

The cold rain pounded against the dilapidated eaves, making a dull "tap-tap" sound, like countless icy hands repeatedly knocking on people's hearts.

That rain was no ordinary water; it was a rain of skeletal remains, mixed with the embers of the collapsing heaven and earth. Each drop carried a chilling coldness, its impact on the tiles not crisp but a sticky, muffled sound, as if striking rotting flesh. The eaves, blackened and softened by the foul stench, had peeled away layer by layer, revealing the rotten wood riddled with holes. A gust of wind sent blackened sawdust cascading down, mingling with the raindrops and instantly forming a murky black puddle on the ground. There was not a ray of light between heaven and earth, only the dark, blood-red halo in the sky, like a huge, lifeless, slowly rotating single eye, coldly surveying the decaying earth.

Yu Moyan stood beneath the broken wall in the corner of the courtyard, his fingertips twirling a locust leaf ravaged by the rain of decay. The leaf had long lost its original green, leaving only a half-withered, half-rotten brownish-yellow. Its edges were brittle and curled from the decaying energy, and its surface was covered with fine, spiderweb-like dark red water stains—not rainwater, but the residual blood that seeped out when the laws of heaven and earth collapsed. The water stains slid slowly through his fingers, viscous and heavy, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible, sweet-smelling tang. Mixed with the cold rainwater, they spread slowly in his palm, forming a sticky, murky layer that could not be wiped away or washed clean, as if a chilling coldness seeped from beneath his skin.

He looked up at the sky, which was pressed low by a dark, blood-red halo. The clouds were thick and heavy, like lead, pressing down on his head; he felt he could almost touch that oppressive, suffocating crimson expanse. Cold rain slanted down, dense as needles, penetrating every crevice. It condensed into icy dampness on his eyelashes, slowly sliding down his cheeks, leaving a fine, stinging pain on his skin, as if being scraped by countless tiny ice shards. The rain washed away the surface grime, but it couldn't cleanse the layer of chilling cold that seemed to seep into his bones. That coldness seeped into his skin through his pores, traveled along his veins, freezing his heartbeat, freezing his thoughts, even his breath carried a chill that sank to the depths of his heart.

Jiang Duyue stood beside him, the faint light around her now almost transparent. The spiritual light that had once protected her was now flickering in the rain of bones, its edges constantly melting and disintegrating, like a candle in the wind, teetering on the brink of extinguishing in a storm. She could clearly sense that the laws of heaven and earth were collapsing at a visible speed, like a giant net being torn apart by countless claws, its threads breaking and dissolving one by one. The spatial barrier that had barely held together was now soft and sticky from the bone energy and cold rain; a slight touch would create a ring of pitch-black ripples, and where the ripples spread, the air distorted, matter dissolved, and even light was swallowed up before silently dissipating into dust.

The air grew even thicker, as if filled with cooled lead molten metal—heavy, stifling, and suffocating. Each breath felt like swallowing countless fine needles, pricking the throat and making the lungs ache. An invisible giant hand gripped the chest tightly, making even the heartbeat sluggish and slow, each beat carrying a heavy, dull pain, as if the heart were encased in a layer of cold mud. The surroundings were eerily quiet, save for the incessant patter of the rain and the occasional, faint, almost inaudible wail from afar. The sound was short and mournful, but quickly swallowed by the rain, leaving no echo, as if it had never existed.

"Five million people..." Jiang Duyue's voice was diluted by the cold rain, drifting lightly in the wind, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor. "This is the last number of living beings that the world can accommodate."

Yu Moyan slowly withdrew his gaze, looking down at the murky stain in his palm. In the center of that dark red puddle, a faint, almost imperceptible trace of the Heavenly Dao's warmth remained, like the last embers in ashes, utterly cooled by the relentless rain of decay, extinguishing even the last vestige of warmth. He could discern, from the fragmented fluctuations of the collapsing laws of heaven and earth, that chilling command that spanned the entire universe—no warmth, no emotion, not pity, not redemption, but a precise and cruel "selection."

Twenty malevolent spirits lurked in the eight directions, while half a celestial corpse descended upon the world, turning the entire world into a colossal prison. The sky served as its ceiling, the earth as its floor, the rain of corpses as its locks, and the filth as its chains. Humanity was nothing more than ants awaiting slaughter within this cage, struggling, crying out, and fleeing, yet unable to escape this predetermined fate. The so-called Meteorite Sanctuary, the so-called five million slots, were merely a small area jointly demarcated by the Heavenly Dao and the malevolent spirits, leaving only the last five million lives to eke out a living.

"It's not selection, it's execution." Yu Moyan's voice was hoarse, as if it had been repeatedly sanded, dry and deep, carrying a deep-seated weariness and desolation. "Those who remain are not survivors, but the last batch of sacrifices to be 'observed'."

The cold rain fell harder and harder, splashing into the puddles and creating dark red ripples. The puddles were no longer clear water, but a murky slurry mixed with rotting soil, bits of flesh, remnants of blood, and the stench of decay. It was incredibly slippery underfoot, and if you weren't careful, you would slip and fall. Once it got on your skin, it would seep into it, bringing a sharp, piercing itch—the foul stench was corroding your flesh. From the direction of the distant town, occasional wails could be heard. Some were crying, some were shouting, some were screaming in despair, but the sounds were immediately suppressed by the torrential rain of decay, muffled in their throats, shattered in the wind, without even causing a ripple.

Those who failed to enter the shelter were now being slowly eroded by the rain of bones and the foul air. Faint gray spots first appeared on their skin, spreading and proliferating at a visible speed, from fingertips to wrists, from cheeks to necks, layer upon layer, as if decay was spreading from the inside out. Consciousness gradually faded, their eyes went from terror to numbness, from struggle to deathly stillness, finally maintaining a last-ditch struggle—some curled up on the ground, some reached out to grasp at the void, some still held their already cold relatives, frozen in place, their bodies rapidly stiffening and turning black, their flesh slowly softening and rotting, merging with the mud beneath their feet, becoming part of this muddy world.

Yu Moyan's divine sense barely swept across a radius of a hundred miles. The moment his divine sense expanded, it was violently impacted and corroded by the omnipresent bone energy. Waves of stinging pain came from the depths of his sea of ​​consciousness, as if countless fine needles were piercing his soul. He saw countless figures huddled in corners, under broken walls, in ruins, and in dilapidated houses, everywhere there were people on the verge of death. Some were holding children, tightly protecting them in their arms, using their bodies to shield them from the cold bone rain, but the children had already stopped breathing, their small bodies cold and stiff; some were leading elderly people, their steps faltering, the elderly coughing violently with each step, coughing up phlegm mixed with dark red blood foam, collapsing to the ground after a few steps, never to rise again; some were just standing blankly in the rain, their eyes empty, staring at the dark blood-red sky, without even the strength to run away, even fear had been exhausted.

The cold rain soaked their hair and clothes; the fabric, saturated with muddy water, clung heavily to their bodies, the sticky residue enveloping them like a layer of icy shackles. Their breathing grew weaker and weaker, their chests rose and fell more and more lightly, their eyes gradually lost their luster, their pupils dilated, and finally, like puppets drained of all life, they slowly collapsed into the cold muddy water, to be slowly soaked and rotted by the cold rain, without even having time to utter a mournful cry.

There was no life, no hope, only endless cold, endless decay, and endless death between heaven and earth.

"Time is running out." Jiang Duyue raised her hand, brushing away the rain-dampened stray hairs from her forehead. The skin her fingertips touched was icy cold, almost devoid of warmth. Her spiritual energy flowed sluggishly through her meridians, each movement accompanied by a tearing pain. She could clearly feel her power rapidly draining away, being devoured by the skeletal energy, being pulled apart by the collapsing tide of heaven and earth. "Two days, five million people, spread across the globe, that's only a few thousand in each region. But humanity now barely has the ability to move."

The oppressive atmosphere had reached its peak.

It wasn't the raging fury of a cataclysmic collapse, nor the devastation of a tsunami, but a suffocating feeling where even despair was trapped in the throat. The whole world felt like it was trapped in an airtight iron coffin, the rain of decay like cold water poured down from the outside, the foul air like poisonous smoke permeating the inside, and the collapse of the laws of heaven and earth like the slow, heavy pressure of the coffin lid closing. Fear, resentment, despair, and anger surged within everyone's heart, all these emotions choking them, about to explode, yet they couldn't even scream—the cold rain was sticky, the air heavy, any sound uttered was sucked in and crushed, only able to fester in their chests, fermenting into an even heavier pain, slowly gnawing at their souls.

Twenty malevolent spirits lurked in the eight directions of heaven and earth, but they were not truly at peace.

Their enormous, terrifying, and indescribable forms are hidden in the void and concealed in the abyss, while their consciousnesses intertwine, collide, and whisper wildly in the void, like countless venomous snakes coiling around each other, plotting the game of "human selection" before them. Every thought carries a sinister smile, every fluctuation of consciousness exudes a malice that devours everything, and foul air surges with their thoughts, weaving a huge black net between heaven and earth, enveloping all the remaining living beings.

In the far north, where ice reigns for thousands of miles, the Frostbone Mother resides in the eternally frozen abyss. Her body is formed from ice and withered bones, her massive joints crawling with dark, unhealed wounds that constantly ooze icy chill and foul stench. Her consciousness chuckles in the void, her voice cold and hoarse, like the scraping of icicles: "Half-Celestial Corpse has quite the inclination, keeping these ants around as mere playthings. Alas, only a few can enter the sanctuary. The rest are nothing more than nourishment for us."

In the North Atlantic, deep beneath the sea, the Ancient Emperor of the Myriad Devouring Ice Silkworm huddled in the core of a frozen abyss. Its body, massive as a mountain, was encased in layers of ice, yet even this couldn't shield it from the depleting effects of the skeletal energy. Its consciousness was filled with greed and thirst, its icy will sweeping across the surroundings: "The Meteorite Sanctuary can temporarily shield me from the skeletal energy, but it won't hold me there for long. That meager spiritual light can't withstand the overwhelming force of heaven and earth. Once the Half-Heavenly Skeleton's interest is over, even this last inch of land will be reduced to dust. I might as well steal some life force from those who enter the sanctuary to replenish my losses."

In the depths of the South Pacific, deep within the stagnant seabed, a vengeful sea monster slowly churned. Its body, formed from endless carrion and deep-sea silt, possessed a single crimson eye that gleamed with malice and cunning. Its consciousness surged within the stagnant mud, carrying a nauseating stench: "Human unity is nothing but a mirage, easily shattered. Five million people crammed into a tiny space—food, air, water—which is enough? They will kill each other, devour each other, tearing away all pretense for a sip of water, a piece of food, a place to stand. In the end, only ruthless monsters will remain. Then, we can simply reap the benefits, drawing the purest resentment from them."

In the Indian Ocean, waves surged, and the Bloodfin Kraken stirred up raging storms in the depths. Its body was ferocious, its blood-red fins like knives; each swing caused the seawater to boil. Its mind was filled with a bloodthirsty craving, its violent aura almost bursting through the sea: "That's right. These ants are inherently fragile; the slightest provocation will cause them to collapse. Confining them in their shelter will only make them more prone to madness. Let them replace and destroy each other, let blood flow like rivers, let resentment soar to the heavens. The so-called strong ones that remain in the end will merely be nourishment for us to devour. Half-Heavenly Skeleton desires the majesty of a sovereign, while what we want is to siphon some more benefits from this apocalypse."

Deep within the Alps, the Soul-Shattering Demon Chonglou sat atop the Soul-Shattering Peak. Countless shattered souls surrounded him, their mournful wails echoing endlessly. A cunning scheme flickered in his mind, its sinister gleam reverberating through the void: "How about adding some 'seasoning'? Let those humans who enter the sanctuary believe that unity will ensure survival, give them a false hope, then let them witness their companions being corrupted by the filth, slaughtering each other. When hope shatters, despair breeds madness, and madness brings even more utter destruction. This is more interesting than simply killing them; the resentment will be far stronger."

Above the Mediterranean Sea, the Thousand-Handed Sky-Splitting Demon Mother hovered in the void. Her thousand arms stretched out in the wind, each hand clutching a wisp of a broken soul. Her consciousness was filled with sinister anticipation, and foul energy surged with her thoughts: "They replace each other, devour each other, resorting to any means to survive, until even their souls become twisted and filthy. Such souls are best suited to nourish our evil power, allowing us to break through our shackles and advance further. Half a celestial skeleton may be able to rule heaven and earth, but it cannot control the desires of all living beings—greed, jealousy, fear, selfishness. These desires are our best weapon."

The remaining dozen or so ferocious spirits, some entrenched in the desert, some hidden in volcanoes, and some submerged underground, echoed each other's consciousnesses. Without verbal communication, they reached a strange, unspoken understanding in an instant. They didn't directly destroy the sanctuary; that would be too tedious and too easy. Instead, they quietly released wisps of foul air and resentful ghosts, which drifted silently along the path of the cold rain and the direction of the wind towards the human settlements about to enter the Meteorite Sanctuary.

These foul odors and lingering resentments are extremely subtle. They are not immediately fatal, nor do they directly corrode the physical body, but they can easily penetrate the depths of people's hearts, amplifying hidden fears, greed, jealousy, and suspicion. This causes humanity, which is already on the verge of collapse, to fall even earlier into a quagmire of mutual suspicion, scheming, and harm.

And Banque Tianhai·Cangyuanmi stood at the top of the world, in the center of the dark blood-red halo.

His body was tall and indistinct, surrounded by undying skeletal flames. His eye sockets were empty, with only two clusters of eerie blue flames burning silently. He coldly observed this apocalyptic game he had initiated, overlooking the human tragedy, the sinister schemes, and the swirling filth and despair in the cold rain, yet he made no move. His majesty was like an insurmountable mountain, pressing down on the entire world, preventing it from making the slightest movement, even controlling the speed of spatial collapse. He tacitly approved of the sinister actions, tacitly approved of the human carnage, tacitly approved of this desperate revelry in this small area.

To him, all living beings are like ants, and life and death are like a play.

The cold rain continued to pour down, the suffocating atmosphere persisted, and the feeling of suffocation in the world grew heavier and heavier, like a giant net slowly tightening, strangling all the remaining life force bit by bit.

Yu Moyan could clearly sense that the humans struggling towards the Meteorite Sanctuary were being swept up in boundless fear, staggering forward. They were ragged, soaked to the bone, and pale-faced. Some supported each other, moving forward step by step; some struggled alone, staggering forward; and some, due to the deep corruption of the foul air, had their eyes become cloudy and crazed, beginning to covet the positions of those around them, food, and even the right to live, secretly harboring thoughts of harming others.

"We have to go." Yu Moyan raised her hand and gently grasped Jiang Duyue's wrist. Her wrist was icy cold, as if she were holding a block of ancient ice, with almost no pulse and her spiritual energy so weak it was nearly nonexistent. "If we stay any longer, even the last five million spots will be devoured by the foul air. At that time, it will truly be barren."

Jiang Duyue nodded slightly, her face as pale as paper. She could sense that her spiritual energy was becoming increasingly difficult to circulate; her meridians were completely blocked by the foul energy, causing congestion and stinging pain, making it difficult to even cast the simplest spells. The stellar energy and life force of heaven and earth had long been crushed and dissolved by the malevolent foul energy, washed away by the rain of corpses, leaving them no room to recover or recuperate. Every moment they lingered, their bodies and souls were further eroded; if they delayed any longer, even if they reached the shelter, they would already be nothing more than walking corpses.

The two walked side by side toward the Meteorite Sanctuary, their steps heavy.

The ground beneath my feet was sticky and soft, no longer solid earth, but rotten soil soaked by the rain of decay and corroded by the foul air. With each step, I could feel the dark red dampness on the soles of my shoes—blood seeping from the earth's core, mixed with cold rain, rotting mud, and bits of flesh, congealing into a slippery, murky film under my feet, threatening to make me slip and fall. Occasionally, I would step on a pebble, already brittle from the decaying air, which would turn into a sticky black mud under my feet with a gentle crushing motion, emitting a faint stench that filled my nostrils, making my stomach churn, yet I couldn't even bring myself to vomit.

The scenery along the way became increasingly bleak and terrifying.

The houses along the roadside had long since collapsed, their crumbling walls blackened and sticky from the cold rain. Layers of paint peeled away, revealing the bricks and stones riddled with holes, gnawed by the foul air. Embedded in the cracks and among the rubble were long-decayed corpses, some reduced to half-bodies, others their flesh melted away, leaving only blackened skeletons. The flesh on the corpses was as soft as mud, turning to black sludge at the slightest touch and seeping into the earth. A few maggots slowly crawled out of the eye sockets, mouths, and noses of the corpses, wriggling in the cold rain, but the moment they came into contact with the foul air, they instantly stiffened, dried up, and vanished silently in a wisp of gray smoke, leaving not a trace.

The air was filled with a mixture of putrid, bloody, and sweet odors, pungent and choking, which, when inhaled, brought waves of burning pain to the lungs.

Occasionally, they encountered a few humans still struggling, their clothes tattered, soaking wet, hair sticking to their faces, their complexions bluish-purple, their eyes filled with fear and numbness. Seeing the faint spiritual light emanating from Yu Moyan and Jiang Duyue, some had a glint of greed in their eyes, as if they had found a lifeline, wanting to pounce and snatch that meager chance of survival; others simply looked away indifferently, without even a shred of desire to communicate, already completely consumed by despair.

"Don't go near them," Jiang Duyue whispered, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. "They're tainted with a thick stench of filth, their souls are bound. If you get any closer, you'll be dragged into an abyss of despair from which you'll never be able to escape."

Yu Moyan nodded slightly, his gaze cold and indifferent.

He could clearly sense that deep within the souls of those humans, fine black threads of filth had already entangled them, like a spiderweb, binding and corroding them. These were the seeds of despair, the catalyst for madness, the beginning of replacement. With just the slightest touch, one would be infected by this insidious aura, their mind wavering, their reason collapsing, ultimately becoming just like them—numb, greedy, cruel, and insane, reduced to beasts in the apocalypse, knowing only how to survive.

The cold rain lashed his face, icy and biting, trickling down his neck and into his collar, clinging to his skin and bringing a chill that penetrated to the bone. That chill couldn't wash away the oppressive weight on his face, making it hard to breathe, even his breathing became heavy. Yu Moyan's divine sense continuously scanned his surroundings, seeing more and more humans converging on the direction of the Meteorite Sanctuary like a tide. They were crowded, chaotic, and staggering, like moths drawn to a flame, yet separated by the cold rain and the skeletal energy into countless scattered individuals, each separated by an invisible barrier—a high wall built of fear and suspicion, cold, solid, and unbreakable.

"Look over there." Jiang Duyue raised her hand, her voice trembling slightly, and pointed to an open space not far away.

Yu Moyan looked up and saw dozens of humans gathered in the open space, including the elderly, women, and children, but mostly young adults. Some were clutching broken steel bars and rusty iron rods, while others were empty-handed, their faces contorted with rage. They were wary of each other, their eyes filled with vigilance, greed, and murderous intent. No one trusted anyone around them; each saw the other as a potential threat and competitor. Some had already begun to argue in hushed tones, their voices hoarse and agitated, the arguments revolving around "who gets into the shelter first," "who gets a good spot," and "who should give way to survive."

A tall, burly man, soaking wet and with a fierce expression, clutched a broken steel bar stained with dark red blood—it was unclear whether it was his own or someone else's. He roared at a thin child in the center of the crowd, "Get out of the way! I'm going in first! Or I'll kill you!"

The child, no more than five or six years old, trembled with fear, his face deathly pale, and he huddled tightly behind a woman. The woman, dressed in tattered clothes and looking haggard, held the child tightly, her eyes filled with terror and pleading, her voice choked with sobs: "Please, let us go... the child is so young, he doesn't understand anything..."

"Small? Small ones deserve to die!" A ruthless glint flashed in the man's eyes. Greed and violence, amplified by the filth, completely consumed him. "In this apocalypse, the weak should be eliminated! If you know what's good for you, get out of the way, or I'll beat you up too!"

The young man did not back down. His hand holding the rusty dagger trembled slightly, but he still stood in front of the woman and child, his voice firm: "I know we won't survive, but at least, don't let innocent people die."

Some in the crowd remained silent, some hesitated for a moment, while others, moved by the young man's words, whispered in agreement: "Yes! We can't bully the weak! We all live together!"

"Hmph, a bunch of fools." The man sneered, but dared not make a move rashly, because more than a dozen people had already stood around the young man. They were still wary of each other, their eyes distant, but at this moment they had temporarily formed a fragile alliance, using their thin bodies to protect the mother and child.

Yu Moyan's divine sense calmly swept over this scene, without the slightest ripple in his heart.

This is nothing more than the most common scheming and the most superficial conflict in the apocalypse. Such conflicts and such killings will only become more intense, more cruel, and more unscrupulous in the Meteorite Sanctuary.

The foul aura and lingering resentment released by the twenty malevolent spirits drifted silently towards the open space with the cold rain. They seeped into people's hearts, amplifying the man's greed and violence, the youth's persistence and stubbornness, and the hesitation and selfishness of those around him. The man's eyes grew increasingly fierce, his veins bulging, as if he wanted to rush forward and tear apart the obstacle in his path; the youth's face grew paler, his wounds throbbing with pain, his spiritual power weakening, yet he still refused to retreat; the thoughts of those around him grew increasingly complex—some wanted to help the youth, but feared losing their chance to enter the sanctuary; some wanted to join the man in fighting for survival, but were wary of the stares of those around them and dared not make the first move.

The oppressive atmosphere grew heavier, and the patter of the cold rain seemed to turn into a death knell, each beat striking at the heart.

Suddenly, the man could no longer contain his violence and greed. He lunged at the youth, swinging the steel bar with incredible force, aiming for the youth's head. The youth gritted his teeth and raised his dagger to block. With a sharp clang, the rusty dagger was instantly knocked from his hand and landed in the muddy water. The steel bar grazed his arm, leaving a deep, bone-revealing wound. Flesh tore open, and blood gushed out, mingling with the cold rain and forming dark red beads on the ground, which were quickly washed away by the rain.

"You're asking for it!" the man roared, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. He raised the steel bar again and slammed it down hard.

Just then, a streak of pitch-black aura silently flashed through the void and instantly wrapped around the man's wrist.

The man let out a piercing scream, his wrist wracked with excruciating pain, as if being gnawed by countless venomous snakes. The steel bar slipped from his grasp and crashed to the ground, instantly corroded by the sludge, turning into a puddle of black mud. A ring of pitch-black marks quickly appeared on his wrist, the foul energy spreading rapidly along the wound and meridians towards his heart and sea of ​​consciousness. Wherever it passed, the skin and flesh went numb, the bones and muscles went cold, and consciousness became blurred.

"Ah—! Help me… Someone save me…" The man collapsed in the cold rain, struggling frantically, but could only watch helplessly as his body stiffened and turned black, his eyes shifting from ferocity to terror, and then to deathly stillness. Those around him retreated, their eyes filled with fear. No one wanted to approach him; to do so meant being tainted by the foul air, meant death.

In the end, the man froze completely on the spot, his body rapidly decomposing and merging with the mud and water, becoming a new corpse and new nourishment.

The young man clutched the wound on his arm, blood gushing out, making his face even paler. He looked at the man lying on the ground, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes—a mixture of relief, fear, and a barely perceptible numbness. He had witnessed too much death, too much cruelty; his heart had long since grown cold with each act of despair.

The people around fell silent again. The cold rain continued to pour down, and the suspicion and oppression in the air intensified, as if a new round of fighting would break out at any moment.

Yu Moyan withdrew his divine sense, understanding dawning on him.

This is just the beginning.

Within the cramped space of the Meteorite Sanctuary, in an environment of limited resources and fraught with danger, this cycle of replacement and destruction will only intensify. To survive, humanity will shed all moral pretense, revealing its most greedy, cruel, and primal side; for a sip of water, a piece of food, or a place, it will not hesitate to turn its blade against its own kind. Meanwhile, the twenty malevolent spirits will reap the benefits of this endless slaughter, absorbing the resentment and constantly strengthening their evil power, awaiting the moment when they finally devour everything.

Jiang Duyue watched this scene and sighed softly, her voice filled with sorrow: "The human heart is more terrifying than evil."

"Yes." Yu Moyan sighed softly, his voice filled with desolation and weariness. "The evil of the wicked is overt, a naked destruction and devouring. But the evil of the human heart is hidden in the bones, a selfishness and greed magnified infinitely in desperate situations. In this apocalypse, everyone becomes a demon in human skin, scheming against each other, devouring each other, which is more chilling than the wicked."

The two continued moving towards the Meteorite Sanctuary, the scenery along the way becoming increasingly shocking and suffocating.

Some humans, fighting over a spot in the shelter, grappled with each other, fists flying, sticks flying, the cold rain mingling with the stench of blood, the pain of tearing flesh, the putrid smell, and desperate cries, weaving together a piercing, mournful final lament. Others, deeply corrupted by the foul air, went mad, screaming at the air, punching those around them, losing all reason. Ultimately, they were subdued by those around them, mercilessly thrown into the cold rain, left to be consumed by the foul air, becoming nourishment for it.

Some humans have completely given up the struggle.

They sat by the roadside, leaning against broken walls, letting the cold rain relentlessly drench them. Soaked to the bone, their faces were deathly still, their eyes vacant, devoid of any emotion. They didn't cry, didn't shout, didn't run, didn't struggle; they simply sat quietly, awaiting death. In their souls, despair had taken root and grown into a towering tree, utterly devouring and crushing all vitality, hope, and will, leaving only empty shells, slowly decaying in the rain of bones.

Yu Moyan's divine sense swept over these people, and his heart was not stirred at all, but he felt a faint sting.

In his previous life, he was the same, struggling amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, numb with despair, watching those around him die one by one, watching himself gradually become the very thing he once hated most. He had killed, he had protected, he had struggled, he had despaired, but ultimately he could not escape his doom. In this life, he was reborn, having planned ahead, yet he still could not stop the collapse of heaven and earth, still could only watch humanity head towards the same fate, still could only struggle to survive in this catastrophe.

The cold rain intensified, and the dark, blood-red sky pressed down even lower, as if it would collapse at any moment. From the direction of the Meteorite Sanctuary, a faint golden light had begun to appear, so small and so weak in this gloomy world, yet so precious. It was humanity's last hope, and also its final prison.

Five million people are converging on that faint golden light.

They surged forward like a tide, crowded, chaotic, and staggering, moving towards that small patch of land like moths to a flame. Even if what lay ahead was endless darkness, biting cold rain, and an abyss of mutual devouring, they had no other choice. This was the only way to survive, and also the only way to die.

Yu Moyan and Jiang Duyue finally saw the true nature of that golden light.

It was a colossal underground sanctuary, crafted from a single piece of meteorite gold, its entire surface gleaming with a faint golden light. Its texture was hard, and its spiritual energy was restrained. In the dark, blood-red world, shrouded in the aura of decay and cold rain, it burned like a tiny, stubborn spark in the darkness. The sanctuary's entrance was an enormous meteorite gold gate, over a hundred feet high and as heavy as a mountain. The gate was tightly shut, inscribed with ancient, profound runes. These runes emitted a faint yet resolute light, barely resisting the corrosive aura of decay and cold rain, providing a brief period of safety.

Hundreds of thousands of people had already gathered at the entrance.

They huddled together, shoulder to shoulder, pushing and shoving, wary of one another, their eyes filled with fear and longing, greed and desperation. No one spoke, only heavy breathing, suppressed coughs, and the crisp sound of falling debris hitting the meteorite metal. Everyone waited, waiting for the door to open, waiting for that glimmer of hope.

Yu Moyan's divine sense penetrated the meteorite gate and swept across the interior of the shelter.

The shelter was vast, with a wide interior space meticulously divided into numerous areas: living quarters, water supply areas, food areas, and cultivation areas. Each area had its own independent air circulation, water supply, and defensive runes, yet it also had strict boundaries that could not be crossed. At the very core of the shelter was a massive meteorite core, slowly rotating and emitting a faint but pure life force, barely maintaining the balance within the shelter and resisting the infiltration of external foul air.

Meanwhile, the twenty malevolent spirits and lingering resentments, carried by the cold rain, had already seeped into the sanctuary through the tiny cracks in the runes of the meteorite gate. They roamed among the people, drifted in the air, preparing to take root and sprout within the sanctuary, amplifying the desires in people's hearts, igniting the sparks of suspicion and slaughter, and causing humanity to completely shatter and collapse.

"Let's go in." Yu Moyan gripped Jiang Duyue's wrist tightly, a faint warmth emanating from his fingertips, but it was quickly swallowed up by the cold rain. "If it gets any later, even this small place will be overwhelmed by despair. By then, even if we want to leave, we won't be able to."

Jiang Duyue nodded slightly, her gaze fixed on the shelter.

She could clearly sense that, though the people in the shelter appeared crowded and silent, their hearts were already churning with unspoken anxieties. Some were secretly observing those around them, calculating how to seize better areas, how to plunder more resources, and how to survive in this apocalyptic struggle. Seeds of suspicion had already been quietly sown in their hearts.

The two walked side by side through the crowded streets, slowly making their way towards the entrance of the Meteorite Sanctuary.

Cold rain pattered against the golden gate, producing a crisp, monotonous sound. The runes on the gate flickered faintly, their light swirling, barely resisting the endless aura of decay. Amidst the longing gazes of countless people, the golden gate slowly opened a crack, and a faint aura of life seeped out from the crevice, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

As Yu Moyan stepped onto the steps in front of the Meteorite Gate, a powerful yet gentle suction force instantly pulled him and Jiang Duyue into the shelter.

The scene before my eyes suddenly changed.

No longer was the dark, blood-red sky, no longer the sticky, cold rain of bones, no longer the putrid, lifeless earth. In its place were cold, hard walls of meteorite gold, soft yet faint golden light, densely packed crowds, and a pervasive, almost tangible, despair and suspicion in the air.

However, no one expected the turning point to come so suddenly.

Within the shelter, very few people truly break through genetic limits and awaken their powers. Yet, humanity is so incredible, composed of countless contradictions, yet always able to create unbelievable miracles in dire straits.

The surviving powerful individuals discovered fragments of an ancient legacy amidst the ruins and fragments of ancient texts. In just a few months, humanity rose to prominence at an astonishing pace—

Seventy-ninth in the first level of the Spiritual Illumination Realm;

Fifty-threeth place in the second stage of the Spiritual Illumination Realm;

Thirty-third place in the third level of the Spirit Illumination Realm;

Twenty-seven individuals at the fourth level of the Spiritual Illumination Realm;

Twelve people at the fifth level of the Spiritual Illumination Realm;

Seventh in the sixth rank of the Spirit Illumination Realm;

Four individuals at the seventh level of the Spiritual Illumination Realm.

The eighth level of the Spiritual Illumination Realm is vacant.

One person at the peak of the ninth level of the Spirit Realm.

With the combined efforts of numerous cultivators, they used their own spiritual power to activate the core of the meteorite metal, creating a thick and sturdy shield that completely blocked the foul energy and lingering resentment that the twenty malevolent spirits had infiltrated.

The moment countless humans stepped into the shelter, the amplified greed, suspicion, and violence within them vanished instantly under the pure vitality and united will. An unprecedented unity descended upon them. No more fighting, no more suspicion, no more killing; everyone worked together to repair defenses, organize resources, divide areas, and operate the core.

The shelter is large enough, with fertile fields, water sources, and spiritual veins, so it can be self-sufficient for a long time and no longer have to kill each other for survival resources.

Yu Moyan stood in the crowd, his divine sense sweeping across the area, instantly discerning everything.

He knew that if humanity remained entrenched here for too long, it would become stagnant and isolated. No matter how sturdy the shelter was, it couldn't withstand the forces of nature, the cold indifference of the Half-Heavenly Corpse, or the patience of the twenty ferocious demons. Once humanity was completely settled, once they no longer needed to rely on human resentment for sustenance, those demons would immediately begin to scheme against each other, devour each other, and kill one another, growing stronger in the process, eventually breaking through their limits, shattering the heavens and earth, and even reducing the Meteorite Shelter to dust.

After a moment of silence, Yu Moyan turned to look at Jiang Duyue beside him, his gaze firm, his tone calm yet carrying an undeniable determination:

"Duyue, if humanity continues to cower in this way, it will only lead to stagnation and eventual demise. The shelter can only protect us for a time, not forever. We should leave this place, explore the outside world, seek a more complete ancient heritage, and find a way to break this deadlock."

Jiang Duyue looked at him without the slightest hesitation in her eyes, and nodded gently, agreeing with his decision.

Though heaven and earth may collapse and the end may be near, they are unwilling to sit idly by and await their doom.

The two stopped and turned away from the crowd, quietly leaving the Meteorite Sanctuary. They stepped back into that desolate world of torrential rain and pervasive filth, heading towards the unknown distance, embarking on a journey to find the inheritance and reverse the end.