Chapter 493

After Lin Xian’s consciousness link faded before her, Chu Yan leaned back against the wall, her face pale, gasping for breath; her vital signs HUD showed her heart rate and mental fluctuations at critical thresholds.

“I hope you’re okay…”

Chu Yan whispered into the air, then stared at her trembling hands and slowly clenched her fists.

As a psychic ability user, she should have been the ideal candidate for exploring Crimson, yet even with her ability synergizing with the Dark Energy Apparatus, she still felt overwhelming invasive pressure—this was inside the room; outdoors, she estimated she wouldn’t last more than thirty minutes.

She had to find a way back quickly; if the Spark Project failed, she’d need to rendezvous with Lin Xian on the South American continent—here, the Star Abyss roared, the world burned, and perhaps humanity’s time was running out.

Thinking of Lin Xian’s earlier words, Chu Yan’s gaze flickered, but she did not contact Grace.

Southern Heaven Gate was Lin Xian’s trump card; in her and Professor Ye’s view, this card might be the reason Lin Xian had survived under the Foundation’s watch. For this reason, she would never use it lightly—especially since Crimson was filled with unknown anomalies, and whether Southern Heaven Gate’s energy beam weapons could achieve the same lethality as Dawn City remained uncertain.

Huh~

“Zzzt…”

Chu Yan exhaled deeply when suddenly, intermittent static crackled through her comms channel; she checked the interface and saw it was coming from one of her team’s frequencies.

“Tornado, Black Wasp, report status!”

“Zzzt…”

No response.

Creak…

A sudden, unnatural sound interrupted Chu Yan’s thoughts.

Outside the window, Crimson swirled with a hidden aura, making the window frame creak.

Chu Yan frowned coldly, her power armor activating an energy field; a thin glow flowed along its curves as she rose silently, twin silver blades springing from her forearms, particle diffusers heating up—these blades packed immense close-range power, capable of slicing through S-class flesh outright.

Chu Yan stepped slowly to the window, firing a high-temperature beam to slit the glass, then peered outside: the Crimson storm visibly ravaged heaven and earth; the world wasn’t pitch black—it glowed with a visible crimson light, turning everything in sight into the eerie negative hue of Crimson.

The earth was stained blood-red; the soil, crimson as fresh blood, emitted visible red vapor that instantly evaporated into crimson mist, merging with the air until sky and ground became indistinguishable.

Creak…

The sound came again—this time, Chu Yan confirmed it: outside the door!

She spun around, staring at the sealed apartment door far away; the cold static still hissed faintly in her comms, and outside, silence shattered.

Not the moans of zombies, nor the shuffling of aberrations—but a slimy, heavy sound, like wet, thick leather dragged slowly over rough ground: one step, then another, grinding across the cold concrete, as if mere inches away, radiating indescribable malice, steadily approaching the sealed, rusted iron door.

Then, as the sound reached the door, it vanished—replaced by an intensely cold aura spreading rapidly into the room; Chu Yan watched the power armor’s temperature gauge plummet visibly, frost forming on the nanoscale armor’s outer layer.

Simultaneously, the walls groaned in a grating, teeth-chilling sound; the rough plaster peeled off in chunks like it had been doused in acid, rotting away to reveal a more decayed underlayer; as the debris fell halfway, it melted like sponges soaked in foul blood—“plop”—into thick, dark-red liquid that dripped to the floor, exhaling suffocating stench.

The already rusted iron door’s dark-brown rust spread like a living organism, rapidly corroding and aging; alongside it, the room’s “vision” collapsed faster—the Crimson fog churned like ink, swallowing sight, compressing light to a mere half-meter halo around Chu Yan, where everything blurred and twisted; the cold-light lamps on the floor now glowed no larger than a grain of rice.

Then, without any external force, the thick iron door—once sealed by Chu Yan and entirely covered in Crimson rust, fused with the wall—opened silently inward.

No sound. Beyond the frame, utter blackness—no corridor, no walls—just a profound void where even darkness lost meaning, an absolute nothingness that devoured all light and hope; merely gazing at it induced a soul-rending, bone-deep terror.

Chu Yan’s muscles tensed instantly, her pupils shrinking; cold killing intent replaced the weariness in her eyes as she gripped her blades tighter.

“Rose.”

【I’m here.】 The power armor’s unique AI responded.

“My psychic sense detects something—some extradimensional entity—standing right before me.”

【Similar to the situation inside Star Abyss #3?】

“Unknown, probably similar—prepare!”

【Understood. Deploying gravitational lens launcher immediately!】

Whoosh!

One shoulder plate opened, revealing a black, precision device resembling a miniature electromagnetic cannon; its muzzle aimed at the void beyond the door, a special metallic projectile loaded.

As she stared, within the fleeting, distorted light and shadow between the room’s crimson chaos and the void, she saw the silhouette of a “doorframe”—twisting visibly, like the rotting ribs of some colossal creature.

She knew: something was there.

"Since you've come, why hide? Let me show you your reflection."

Chu Yan held her blade across her chest; her power armor’s thrusters roared as a metal projectile, wrapped in immense gravity, shot from her shoulder cannon—instantly expanding into a geometrically enlarged annihilation black hole, scouring space fragments as it slammed into the Crimson void!

…

Lin Xian’s consciousness pulled back from the Black Star Forge, staring at the bright, clean, orderly dormitory hall, his expression grim.

Though he had shown no outward stress before Chu Yan, the situation she described gave Lin Xian a deep intuition: the Dark’s consumption was nearing its final, life-or-death moment.

“Crimson… it really does resemble a nuclear radiation cloud ejected by a Star Abyss—worse than the Polar Night; you might find yourself trapped in Crimson during any dark night.”

Lin Xian exhaled, pulling out the rehearsal sphere given by Hua Xiaoling, frowning: “The Descenders’ movements are accelerating too—looks like the Dark Civilization may be directing them to infiltrate.”

Though he could deduce this, Lin Xian couldn’t understand how the Foundation had managed to make those people defect from humanity without warning.

Changing one’s allegiance is never easy—especially those Chu Yan mentioned: all elite survivors, possessing high strength, intelligence, charisma; they should’ve had stronger reason and mental resilience than ordinary people against the Dark’s invasion and the collapse of fear—so Lin Xian was deeply puzzled: if they’d been kidnapped or tortured, he wouldn’t question it—but these people seemed to have willingly changed sides, peacefully leaving—making it all the more strange.

Beep~

He pressed the Civilization Rehearsal Sphere again; a holographic screen projected before him.

【Simulating Civilization #16751. Begin simulation?】

“#16751? That’s a huge jump!”

Lin Xian frowned immediately; though a civilization’s development involved countless contingencies, he hadn’t expected so many failed simulations just to generate one…

As he prepared to initiate another civilization simulation, a dull, sluggish pressure struck his skull, followed by a chilling jolt—he shuddered involuntarily; the sensation was familiar—he’d felt it inside Chu Yan’s consciousness just now.

Perhaps he’d been affected; he pinched his brow, exhausted from nonstop work and six manufacturing sequences running continuously—he set the Civilization Rehearsal Sphere aside for now, deciding to rest and try again later when his condition improved—perhaps he’d find something different.