Chapter 96: The Apocalypse of Britain

Seeing the altar about to complete its connection, Yang Yi, disregarding further inquiry, shouted repeatedly, "Quick! Destroy the altar!"

Argos's body, resembling black smoke, turned to ash. He lightly pinched his fingers, his tone indifferent: "Did you not say that for their sake, you would give me anything?"

Yang Yi came to her senses, her heart sinking. "What do you want?"

"You should know..." He smiled faintly, and this smile bore a resemblance to Yang Yi.

Within her sea of consciousness, Yang Yi's awareness froze, plunging into a heavy expanse of darkness. As if suddenly pushed into an endless deep pool, she struggled desperately, yet her consciousness grew increasingly powerless, sinking lower and lower, sinking endlessly...

On this desert planet abandoned by the gods, He stood before the green-black stone altar. His face returned to indifference. With a casual wave, an ancient stone chair slowly materialized in the center of the altar.

He walked onto the altar as if strolling in a garden. Every carved pattern flickered with starlight as He passed, as if welcoming the master's return.

He stroked the back of the chair, seemingly reminiscing about something, then slowly sat down.

The entire altar erupted in brilliance, its patterns flashing with bright radiance.

The altar's projection had just completed its connection. Life essence from an unknown source condensed along the patterns and slowly merged into His body.

He smiled slightly, leaning back against the chair, a look of addict-like contentment on His face...

$￥

Britain.

When the fifth missile struck the giant crater in Wembri, the altar in the sky remained unaffected, continuing its connection.

Tony Carter, the British Chief of Defence Staff, ordered the launch of two more hydrogen bombs. The massive tremors collapsed half the houses in the capital, yet still failed to stop the altar's flickering.

People had already anticipated that, unless a miracle occurred, firing any number of missiles into that hole would likely be futile.

In the sky, the outline of the altar projection was about to complete its connection. The instant the final two lines joined, the entire altar instantly emitted scattered points of Bai Guang. Countless people heard a faint chanting—

"Revel in the apocalypse; we shall soon welcome the Lord's arrival. The gates of hell open wide; chaos, evil, and slaughter surge forth. The Lord saves His people from the wicked world; we shall attain eternal life in His heaven..."

No, that was not chanting; it was a prayer, entering the mind and reaching the soul. The prayer was so fervent yet so orderly. It was an unknown hymn, the cry of countless believers!

Probably because the capital lay at the altar's center, the people of the capital, usually so high above, were the first to suffer this undeserved calamity.

Countless surveillance feeds still online in the network broadcast the horrific scene of the British capital. When the altar projection first appeared in the sky, the chaos and madness of the people were already enough to terrify, but now, people witnessed the true scene of the evil god's sacrifice.

In a surveillance feed from a corner, three people who had not yet managed to flee into the underground air-raid shelter huddled beneath a trash bin. When the starlight scattered by the altar fell upon them, the three instantly fell into a trance. Their expressions slowly relaxed from fear, as if they saw the most beautiful sight in the world.

Their plump skin visibly withered rapidly, reminding one of high-speed photography accelerated a thousandfold: a flower blooming and withering quickly, a fresh apple rapidly turning shriveled.

This scene was not confined to this small corner; it was occurring everywhere throughout the British capital.

These scattered points of Bai Guang ignored all buildings, pierced through the thick earth and stone layers of the air-raid shelters, and directly merged into the bodies of thousands, draining their life essence completely. This essence was transmitted through the sky projection into the altar of another world.

Countless live-stream cameras on the network broadcast scene after scene of the British capital, leaving humans across the globe chilled to the bone.

People could not see the process of the altar draining life essence, but they could see flesh-and-blood, living individuals before the lens turn into gray-skinned dried corpses...

People in other regions of Britain also felt the call of death.

At Edinburgh Airport, the last plane, packed with people, was taking off in an emergency. Yet the surging crowd around still desperately pushed to board, and the entire runway was filled with people frantically surging forward.

The captain shouted loudly, "The plane is full! Taking on more people will cause a crash! Get out of the way! Get out! Get lost—"

No one paid attention. The people's emotions, driven to collapse by the altar in the sky, could only rely on instinct to leave Britain.

The final line of the altar in the sky completed its connection. The captain, disregarding everything, shouted, "Take off! Take off! I order it: take off immediately now—"

The pilot cried in terror, "The runway is full of people; the plane will have an accident!"

The captain grabbed the pilot's collar by the neck, his expression ferocious: "We cannot worry about that anymore. There is still a chance to survive if we take off; if we wait any longer, we will all die!"

The plane slowly slid along the runway, bumping constantly—its rear wheels crushing too many innocent people crying and begging to be taken aboard. Yet the passengers in the cabin paid no attention. At the moment the plane took off, everyone on board wept with joy.

When the landing gear retracted, countless desperate people who had climbed onto it screamed as they fell like dumplings, becoming pools of corpses.

At Liverpool Port, the last cargo ship, carrying a crowd, slowly sailed away from the harbor. On the shore, countless broken people waved banknotes, gold, silver, and diamonds in their hands, hoping to obtain a ticket to salvation.

More people, disregarding everything, jumped into the sea and swam toward the cargo ship, hoping to climb onto its railing and leave this country covered by the altar.

Suddenly, a violent wave struck. The severely overloaded cargo ship rocked several times, slowly tilted, and the crowd cried out as they fell into the sea.

People on the shore watched helplessly as the distant cargo ship slowly sank beneath the sea surface...

Across Britain, some committed suicide in despair; some vented their madness in their final minutes; some suffered mental collapse; others lay quietly in bed waiting to die; some bid farewell to their families during these final moments; others held their pets, staring blankly at the sky.

In an ordinary apartment, parents held their young child, kissing the baby's tender cheeks. With tears mixed in their smiles, they bid farewell to him/her: "See you tomorrow, my baby..." The father and mother said gently to the babbling child.

In an English country cottage, an elderly man with white hair held his wife's hand, covered in age spots. He treasured a kiss on her forehead. "Being with you in this life is my greatest honor..." She smiled and kissed him back. At this moment, there was no fear in their eyes; as if the terrifying altar draining life in the sky was not a terror, but a witness to their happiness...