In the Russian Federation, at the edge of the Caucasus Mountains, there was a loud crash coming from afar.
But it couldn't be heard clearly.
In the distance, there seemed to be an earth-shattering wave surging, but it couldn't be seen clearly.
The entire world seemed to be drowned in a suffocating paleness. The only thing that could be seen was endless flying snow. Thick snowflakes fluttered down from the sky.
It had been a week …
The bone-chilling cold seeped into the body through the lungs, making the soul feel sluggish. The thick coats were soaked by the snow and quickly froze. It was like wearing a thick layer of armor, making it difficult for people to move.
When the whole world became pale, the countless figures on the ground also became small. They were like struggling black dots, moving forward with difficulty along the railway covered by layers of snow.
The high-pitched loudspeaker kept urging them to move forward.
But it didn't travel far before it was swallowed by the flying snow.
All that could be heard was the tired panting of the people beside them, the dull sound of shovels piercing into the snow, and the high-pitched sound of pickaxes colliding with the ice …
"Faster, faster!"
A hobbling old man dragged his lame leg and held the loudspeaker in his hand. He shouted to the people in front of him, "It's been 16 hours since the snow disaster! This batch of supplies must be sent over! "
But in this bustling and noisy chaos, a stumbling figure rushed over.
The middle-aged man's face was pale, and his beard was covered in white frost. His numb face kept twitching.
"We can't dig anymore, Walia! We can't dig anymore! "He shouted hoarsely," We're running out of time! We must retreat! We must immediately … "
"Are you f * cking seeing a ghost?" The old man was furious. His spittle sprayed on the man's face. "Do you know how important our mission is?"
"There's an avalanche!"
The man, who had been a hunter for 16 years at the edge of the mountains, was almost crying. "That sound just now, it's an avalanche, it definitely is! It'll be too late when we see it. We must retreat, or else … "
"Or else, we'll f * cking continue!"
In this world of ice and snow, the old man's eyes were burning red. "Vanya, if you're cold, I have wine here. If you're hungry, there's toast in the dining car behind. If you're sleepy, go to bed. I can give you two more fucking hours of sleep.
But you can't tell me we're stopping! "
The old man grabbed him by the collar and roared like a lion, "Mitrofan has been without power for four hours. There are hundreds of pregnant women in the hospital there and dozens of seriously ill patients … Their generators can only last for eight more hours. After eight hours, if no one comes to save them, they will all die!
Even if there's an avalanche, we might not die, but if we run away, they'll all be finished, you know?! It's all over! "
Ivan was dumbfounded. He stared at him for a long time, panting and not saying anything.
Being stared at by that pair of eyes, he couldn't say anything. After a long time, he staggered back and sat on the ground, sobbing tiredly, "I still have a daughter … She's only four years old. Four years old, Valia … If I can't go back, what will happen to her …"
The sound of snow being shoveled and ice being knocked did not stop. Everyone was silent, suppressing the urge to roar. Their faces were red with anger as the cold wind blew.
It was as if they wanted to tear the world apart.
But in his sorrowful cries, there was a warm smell of incense.
"Poor child, he's just scared."
The skinny priest in black stood in front of him, lowering his head and looking at him. In the priest's hand, the incense ball burned silently, spreading warmth in the cold world.
"Don't be afraid."
The priest's face twitched, as if he was trying hard to squeeze out a kind expression. But in contrast with his excessively thin face, it looked even weirder.
"You will go back."
He dipped his finger in some holy oil and gently smeared it on Ivan's forehead, assuring him, "I just came back from there, Ivan. There's no avalanche. You just misheard."
"Misheard?" Ivan was dumbfounded.
"Yes, the engineering team in front is blowing up some collapsed rocks," the priest said in a hoarse voice.
"You will see your child, Ivan. Your child will lie in front of the window next to the fireplace, waiting for you to come back. When the time comes, you have to tell her everything you did, like a hero."
He thought for a moment and said with certainty, "Everyone will go back, I promise you."
Ivan was stunned for a long time. He couldn't help but shed tears in front of that face that couldn't be called benevolent.
"Please continue with your work, everyone."
The priest, who had appeared out of nowhere, bowed his head and said, "The Holy Spirit will definitely protect you."
Just like that, holding the incense ball in his hand, the skinny priest chanted scriptures in a low voice, calmly blessing everyone. Once again, he walked into the snowstorm.
In the distance, in the distance, and even further.
The sacred flag was faintly visible in the snow, and the chants spread.
Even more priests were trekking across the wasteland, as if they were on a pilgrimage. They formed long queues that were separated from each other.
Above the mountains, the rolling bleak white froze in the air, and the rumbling stopped.
Those lonely figures were like nails wedged into the ground, fixing the collapsing avalanche in place, unable to move an inch forward.
After a long time, everything returned to silence.
The priest turned back and took a last look at the specks of light that were struggling to move forward after the snow filled the sky. He bowed his head and gave his last blessing.
In front of him, the priest who was waiting reminded him, "Isai, let's go."
"Yes."
Isai turned back. "I'm coming."
Just like that, they turned and moved forward again, disappearing at the end of the snowstorm.
The storm continued.
The mission also continued.
.
Above the dry Nile River in Egypt, the smell of mud and decay floated.
Outside the oasis, thousands of miles of sand danced.
The brutal sunlight shrouded the sky and sprinkled down, torturing everything in the thirst. Countless stray water vapor was swept away by the dry wind, flying into the distance.
It had been two weeks in a row, but there was no rain.
Outside the city, amidst the sandstorm, countless pyramids were silent in the shadows. In the deepest darkness, amidst the erosion of endless disasters, the Pharaoh slowly opened his mouth and let out a soft sound.
It was like a long sigh.
It was also like a soft moan that came from the gap between countless nightmares.
The hand holding the scepter was as thin as firewood, but it never let go.
It was as if he was holding the reins of the country.
He used so much strength.
Blood that was as thick as asphalt flowed down from his hand, along the scepter, and flowed into the trajectory of the secret instrument.
Thus, the layer of rainbow light that enveloped the entire territory appeared again.
Like a thin fetal membrane protecting a baby, it enveloped the entire territory and border, sending down strands of sweet rain.
Once again, the sandstorm within thousands of miles was smoothed out.
.
And thousands of miles away, in India.
Countless pitch-black tides were like an iron curtain. Under the push of the out-of-control ocean currents, they rose and fell one after another, roaring towards the land that was silent in the long night.
However, at the edge of the land, something was slowly rising.
The hazy and blurry outline was projected in the night, but the sense of existence was so strong. It was as if only that mark was the core of the entire world, the meaning of all life and existence, and … the destination of all things' destruction!
Countless pitch-black tsunamis surged and roared. When they collided with each other, an earth-shattering roar erupted. However, all the loud sounds were suppressed by the low sound of drums. They gradually shattered and became difficult to hear.
That was someone stepping on the ground, stepping on the ground, taking light and vigorous dance steps.
Above the sky, the dark clouds shattered, and a ray of pure moonlight shone down, illuminating the half-naked middle-aged man. His face was covered in oil paint, solemn and ancient.
His curly long hair fell from his shoulders, swaying like the darkness itself.
At this moment, the wind howled, and the sound of a flute was actually played. In the raging sea, there was the sound of waves spreading, like the pious praise of souls.
He was dancing.
Circling and stepping on the empty beach, as if he was imitating the former Great God, reappearing his divine might.
No, that was the Great God himself.
The reflection of the former Divine Being in the world.
When he danced, all living things were intoxicated by this figure that contained endless profundities. Endless ascetic practices and prayers spread through his every movement.
Unknowingly, the waves of the sea slowly stopped.
But he still didn't stop.
His eyes were lowered.
He just danced in a daze.
As if he would never stop.
It wasn't just here. It wasn't just here.
East Xia, the Russian Federation, Egypt, Rome, America, India … After the sun set, the world that sank into the dark side was still full of noise and turmoil.
Under the push of an invisible hand, the waves of disaster spread in the world behind the high wall, triggering layers of ripples of decay.
But outside the high wall, there was still endless darkness rising.
On the endless sea, the distant outline from the abyss gradually became clear.
Under the depth, black sails fluttered, and a ferocious hull made of bones and the fingernails of the dead broke through the shackles. Countless ships of the dead dragged ropes, and their journey never ended.
In the deep tide, the Nagilfa Fleet slowly rose. Just like this, they dragged the huge fallen country from the dark side of the abyss and gradually floated up.
On the other side of the border, it was dark.
Like a layer of dark clouds, the eternal thunderclouds shrouded the huge palace like a living creature riding the tide.
Just passing by, they cast a shadow that covered the sky and the sun between Hell.
Above the black clouds, thousands of streaks of lightning spread out like meridians, constantly flapping. They were like wings of lightning stirring up hell, resisting the pull from the abyss.
Under the will of the Dwarf Kings, the sea of thunder spread its wings and soared, flying toward the present.
There were also bizarre giant fishes swaying their bodies, forming a colorful and majestic torrent. They kept converging like a school of fish that followed the ocean currents in search of reproduction. Wherever they passed, they would plant their own seeds between the layers of hell, using calamity to hatch endless offspring.
Then, they were all devoured by the mouth of the abyss that chased after them.
The pitch-black holy light rose from the depths of the abyss, and the hymns from the Blessed Land spread between the disasters. The outline of the Rancher's temple appeared in the observation mirror.
There was more.
More.
Countless faces tore at each other, a distorted monster formed by layers of tails of giant rats, an endless sea of flowers that was enchanting and beautiful …
And more, and more …
Countless Hells collided with each other in the tide, and endless darkness floated up from the abyss.
They could not wait to crawl.
Up.
They were roaring and singing fervently.
They were marching toward the world that was favored by light!
The silent stage was finally about to welcome a new performance.
And in the deepest part of Hell, at the end of the layers of labyrinths, on the throne in the shadows, the Thinker with ten thousand eyes bowed his head and looked at everything with a smile.
Just like the audience in the first-class seats, he waited quietly.
However, occasionally, his gaze would shift to another direction, landing on the scar that was filled with fog, and his gaze would become playful and curious.
This was a rare pastime in the past …
Before everything officially began, there was still a good show to watch. And how would the actors who came on stage, under the mockery of fate, choose?
However, it was still too slow.
The rhythm was too slow, and there was always a little bit more to go.
The Pied Piper smiled, raised a finger, and pointed.
He gave a revelation to his jester.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
