Chapter Two: The Otherworld

In the northern mountains of Qingshan Province, a temporary military base had been established. About a kilometer from the base, a small pool formed by a mountain stream glistened with crystal-clear water. Around it, lush green grass and vibrant wildflowers painted a tranquil, harmonious scene of green hills and meadows.

Nothing here seemed out of the ordinary—except for the abrupt appearance of a jet-black light by the creek. From a distance, it looked like a two-meter-long shaft of darkness, as thick as an arm, floating on the edge of the pool. Up close, one could see it appeared to split the void itself, with wisps of gray mist seeping out from within.

This was the void rift that had thrown the entire world into panic. It looked unremarkable, yet concealed deadly danger. Not only did terrifying spider-like creatures continually crawl out from it, but the gray mist also interfered with all wireless signals. Most alarming to governments worldwide, it was discovered that this fog could even prevent certain chemical reactions from occurring.

From the moment the first rift appeared, governments began intensive research. Over time, they were forced to confront a hard truth: the gray mist from the rift could weaken the chemical reactions needed for gunpowder and similar substances to burn. In other words, firearms and advanced weaponry would be drastically impaired in areas affected by the mist—their power nearly nullified.

What did this mean? It meant that, when facing those otherworldly monsters, humanity’s power was weakened; even under normal conditions, conventional weapons barely threatened such creatures—how much less so when their strength was diminished? Thus, global attention shifted to sealing the rifts.

“How is it? No one’s returned yet?” A jeep sped down a mountain path. From it stepped an officer with a golden insignia on his shoulder—a general.

“Not yet. I’m afraid this mission will end the same as the others,” replied a major general leading the troops by the rift, shaking his head with a look of deep concern.

“Ten waves of suicide squads, thousands of elite soldiers, and not even a ripple. Old Wang, what do you suppose is really inside that thing?” The general didn’t seem surprised by the answer, as if he’d expected it, but the worry in his eyes was even deeper than that of Major General Wang.

“Who knows? Since that damned rift first appeared, all the major powers have sent hundreds of thousands of their best men in to gather information, but not one has come back alive. Who can say what kind of hell lies beyond that rift? Maybe it really is connected to the underworld.” Major General Wang’s voice was laced with bitterness; the soldiers sent into the rift were the finest under his command—every loss was a blow to his forces.

“Hell? Perhaps not. There’s breaking news: someone in England made it back alive from a rift!” The general handed Wang a printed sheet, then glanced at the distant, silent rift.

“What? Someone survived? Was any information recovered?” Wang exclaimed, looking down at the page. There were no words, only a photograph—a man in a black bodysuit, his features indistinguishable beneath the blood and wounds that covered him. He was missing an arm, his chest bore a fist-sized hole, and he lay motionless on the ground.

“This photo was taken beside a rift in northern England. The man died moments after emerging, so he left no message. But look at his hand—look at what he’s holding!”

“Oh?” Only then did Major General Wang notice that the man’s only remaining hand clutched something. “What’s that? A stone?” He squinted uncertainly at the object.

“Exactly—a stone. Don’t underestimate it. This confirms the rift may well lead to a real world, one with solid ground. And if one man could return, then it’s not certain death in there—just that humanity isn’t strong enough yet.”

“Not strong enough? You mean this man wasn’t an ordinary soldier, but one of those...”

“Precisely. It seems you’ve heard as well: the black mist weakens firearms, but it also causes incredible changes in the human body. Old Wang, this world...is about to change.”

...

“Where on earth is this place? Could it be the space beyond those rifts?” Shen Lie forced himself upright, pushing past the dizziness in his head, and stared in astonishment.

He was in a gray, mist-filled world, as if shrouded beneath overcast skies. The air was thick with gray fog, but otherwise, nothing seemed overtly strange. Still, Shen Lie was sure he was no longer on Earth—because there were two suns in the sky! Or at least, what looked like suns: one to the left, one to the right, both much smaller than Earth’s sun, barely a third its size. Even together, they failed to brighten the sky, leaving everything in an oppressive gloom.

“Wait, where’s my pendant?” Shen Lie suddenly remembered the object that had whisked him here from his bathroom. After opening the bathroom door, the pendant in his hand had flashed with a blinding light—and then he’d found himself in this place.

“Ah, my head—ahhh!” As Shen Lie searched for his pendant, a wave of searing pain ripped through his skull, dropping him to the ground howling in agony.

The pain ebbed as quickly as it had come, vanishing after a few breaths. Shen Lie regained control of his body, though he felt as though he’d passed through hell itself. He lay gasping on the ground.

“What the hell is going on?” he cursed, turning his head. There, lying on the ground beside him, was his pendant—but now it was webbed with cracks, as if the slightest touch would shatter it to dust.

Everything that had happened today was far beyond Shen Lie’s understanding. Yet, with the appearance of the mysterious void rifts—and since Qingshan Province was within the affected zone—strange phenomena were almost to be expected. He wasn’t overly shocked; after all, he’d stayed behind to investigate the pendant instead of evacuating with the main group, so now that something unusual had happened, he was determined to examine it closely.

He sat up and gently picked up the pendant, handling it as tenderly as if it were a lover’s tear. Still, the moment his fingers brushed the surface, the cracks deepened and, with a soft clatter, the outer shell fell apart.

Shen Lie’s lips curled in frustration, just about to curse, when he noticed something inside: beneath the shattered exterior lay a tiny token, shaped like a miniature badge. He turned it over and over, frowning, but could see nothing remarkable about it. Yet, the fact that such a token was hidden within the pendant was extraordinary in itself—he simply hadn’t yet discovered its secret.

At least he now knew what had caused the pendant to glow. The light had stopped, but the token’s surface was marked with indecipherable patterns. He’d have to study it further when he had time. For now, this oppressive space made him desperate to leave. And if this really was the world beyond the void rifts, didn’t that mean those spider-like horrors could be lurking here? Better to leave as soon as possible.

The mere thought of those monstrous spiders sent a shiver down his spine. He glanced back to where he’d tumbled into this world—there, a faint, egg-sized black dot shimmered in the air. If he was right, it was the beginnings of a new rift.

To think that a nascent rift had appeared in his own bathroom sent a cold sweat down his back. Thank goodness he’d noticed in time—if the rift had formed and unleashed a few spider monsters, he’d have ended up as their prey. Once he got back, he’d catch up with the main evacuation force and never linger here again.

With that thought, Shen Lie started toward the black dot, reasoning that if he’d come through there, he could also return the same way. But after just two steps, his face turned pale—the faint dot was fading away!

Worse still, as the dot vanished, a mass of darkness surged toward him from afar like a tide, accompanied by a chorus of high-pitched screeching.

“Damn it!” Shen Lie, bloodless with fear, fought to keep his legs from giving out. He forgot all about the fading rift and fled in utter terror!