It was not only her. In fact, ninety percent of Happiness Community’s “suicide survivors” were already dead.
They possessed complete brains and detailed memories, but like Zhang Da Qiang, they were merely living corpses controlled by an outside force.
Several even finer strands of spider silk, thin as willow fluff, connected their minds to their limbs and bodies, effortlessly manipulating every one of these “living dead” so they could move normally as always, without flaws or any visible clue.
And within the remaining vivid, living images, tiny strands of silk were everywhere too. They slipped through mouths, nostrils, and ear canals, spread across trembling retinas, yet no one could detect them with the naked eye and no one could avoid the danger.
Before anyone understood what was happening, the silk took control of their limbs, invaded their brains, and drove them step by step toward death.
Without hesitation, Song Zang pressed the red button on the instrument panel. A scarlet signal began flashing rapidly through the night. It was the confirmation signal sent back by the launch tower.
Under Little Cao’s shocked stare, Song Zang immediately pressed the confirmation a second time.
“Chen Jing Sheng, Ye Xiao Xi is safer than you right now. Listen carefully. Make every rescue worker withdraw immediately behind the ruins of Building C. Cover your mouth and nose, find shelter, do not go into the underground parking garage. Hide behind the Building C ruins!
“Happiness Community is about to be hit by missiles. I’m repeating myself: Happiness Community is about to be hit by missiles.”
“Received!!!”
At the distant edge of the cloudless sky, a faint layer of dark cloud quietly gathered.
Then Song Zang took a deep breath and pulled open the copilot door again.
With no protection at all, he leaned half his body into the rotor wash, rose onto his toes to test the distance, and grabbed one of the thin strands along the edge of the spiderweb.
Song Zang tugged experimentally. It was extremely tough, strong enough to bear his full weight.
Little Cao nearly lost his soul from fright. “Fuck, what are you doing?! Do you wanna die? Get back in here!”
Song Zang waved at him and smiled faintly. “You can leave now. Protect yourself.”
The moment he finished speaking, Song Zang jumped from the helicopter without hesitation.
He hung in midair from the spiderweb with one hand, his seemingly slender body swaying in the violent wind. After silently gathering strength for a moment, he tightened his core, bent his right knee, and kicked the impossibly tough web with everything he had.
Bang!
The explosive crack of rupturing air rolled outward, even more deafening than a missile launch.
The fluffy slippers he had hurriedly worn were destroyed, disintegrating under the enormous force into powder and scraps mixed with artificial fur.
Even his loose, soft lounge pants became several torn strips of cloth that barely clung to his legs and whipped helplessly in the wind.
The flawless, beautiful spiderweb had been forcibly kicked open by Song Zang.
With a slight pull of his arm, Song Zang swung himself through the hole and rose onto the damaged web. Barefoot, he stood above it and drew a deep breath of fresh air.
He did not relax his guard. His cold dark eyes fixed on the center of the curved web.
Buildings A and C faced each other, equal distances from the center of the community garden. The core point of this hemispherical cage lay exactly along the bamboo-lined path Song Zang and Chen Jing Sheng had once crossed.
When Happiness Community was first constructed, it had never reached any agreement with the government. Its underground parking structure was old and poorly maintained, not remotely a civil-defense facility capable of withstanding bombing.
Two precision-strike □□ would be enough to tear open everything hidden deep beneath the garden and expose it to the world.
Elio’s Notes: The Chinese source contains `□□` in two passages in this chapter. Both gaps have been preserved exactly rather than reconstructed.
Step by step, Song Zang walked across the trembling silk, searching through the dense grid for the 【main line】 connected to the exact center.
That strand was only a few millimeters thicker than the others and looked completely unremarkable. Without concentrating carefully, no one would have noticed any difference.
Song Zang bent down, gripped the slightly unusual strand with both hands, silently gathered strength again, shifted his center of gravity backward, and yanked hard.
Rrrrip!
He had not even used seventy percent of his strength, yet somehow he pulled the 【skeleton】 of the web straight out.
Holding one end of the silk, Song Zang felt a burning pain like electrical current move through the flesh of his palm. His expression became slightly strange.
He had seriously overestimated this thing. He used too much force and nearly threw out his back… Fortunately, Yin Chen was asleep on top of his head and had not seen him make a fool of himself.
At least his direction had been correct. Pulling out that strand was extremely effective.
The previously indestructible cage abruptly split open with two gaps, then collapsed at an unimaginable speed like a gigantic balloon losing air.
The missiles flying toward them happened to pass directly through the web collapsing from its center, meeting no resistance before striking the locked target head-on.
Song Zang had no attention to spare for watching.
Because he was falling.
He plummeted rapidly from high altitude together with the collapsing, scattering web.
Weightlessness seized his entire body while shockwaves from the falling buildings rolled toward him layer after layer. Song Zang held his breath, steadied himself, and dragged the burning silk through the air, winding it around his arm coil by coil.
The end of the silk did not lead only beneath Happiness Community. As the line tightened, Song Zang could sense the pull at the far end splitting into two forces.
One came from cold, resentful dead souls, while the other shot straight toward the sky, carrying a strange yet familiar, uncanny power.
Why did it feel familiar?
Inside this completely new instance world, aside from Xu Qing’s energy and the dark field surrounding Happiness Community, what else could possibly feel familiar to him?
Song Zang was sinking into thought when a world-shaking blast of wind suddenly struck him. Someone seized his arm and violently flung him into a cabin.
Little Cao had performed the most difficult maneuver of his entire life. With two towers collapsing, rolling clouds reducing visibility to nearly zero, he drove the helicopter into a dive and caught a falling person in midair.
To grab Song Zang, Little Cao’s powerful left arm suffered a comminuted fracture in a single instant. Every bone from his fingers to his shoulder shattered section by section. The entire arm dropped limp at his side, soaked in surging blood and twisted into a horrifying angle.
“You fucking lunatic!!! Are you doing that suicide shit too?! Fuck, I can’t fly anymore. Get over here and take the controls!”
Amazingly, Little Cao still had not passed out from pain. He continued roaring at full volume, face and neck red with fury, no longer caring whether Song Zang was some mysterious superior he absolutely could not offend.
Song Zang quickly grabbed the seat cushion and shifted farther into the cabin. Half his backside still hung in the air, the other half barely perched on the edge of the swaying pilot seat. The cabin door remained wide open while fierce wind loaded with explosive residue and dust blasted inside without restraint.
Little Cao’s reckless rescue had genuinely startled him. The furious cursing that followed made Song Zang freeze for a moment before he instinctively raised a hand and firmly pressed down on the little snake beginning to stir atop his head.
“Baby, you’re not allowed to kill him. He’s a good person!” Song Zang tightly pinched the little snake’s rigid body and shouted the warning.
Little Cao became even more furious, but beneath that fury was panic and fear he had failed to hide in time. “Fuck, what the hell are you talking to?!”
“Thank you for the trouble.” Song Zang looked at him, curled his lips into a soothing smile, then used his backside to shove Little Cao into the copilot seat. “I’ll get you down for treatment now. Don’t move your left arm casually.”
“Fuck! I fucking know that!”
Fine. Little Cao really was close to passing out from anger.
Song Zang raised a brow and listened to him roar without taking offense. One hand settled on the controls while the other quietly continued gathering the silk, and he searched through the wreckage below for a suitable landing point.
Happiness Community now resembled ruins after a magnitude-eight earthquake. Mountains of corpses and pools of blood lay buried beneath heavy construction debris, and not even half a piece of level ground could be found.
This was Song Zang’s first time piloting such a broken helicopter. Rotor blades were shattered. The shell was dented all over by shockwaves. The front windshield had been struck concave by flying stone and debris. A thick steel bar had even flown backward and torn the fairing off the front engine cover…
Flying this helicopter felt like driving an old man with pneumonia who happened to be extremely muscular.
The power and equipment remained formidable, but its responses were noticeably sluggish, and every so often it seemed to cough violently and threaten to fall apart.
Seen that way, the fact that Little Cao had avoided losing control and crashing at the instant the missiles detonated was genuinely extraordinary. His piloting skill was far too refined. Song Zang could not compare.
Song Zang was about to ask him a few questions when the radio hanging from his waist lit up and suddenly spat out a stream of unclear static.
He picked up the dust-covered little black box and tapped it. The bad-contact noise quickly vanished, replaced by several people coughing over one another, together with echoes and a child’s crying. It sounded like Chen Jing Sheng’s evacuation had been timely, with many people sheltered inside a temporarily safe hollow.
“Brother Song, can you hear me?!” Chen Jing Sheng sounded hoarse, as though he had already been calling for several minutes.
“I can hear you now.”
“All the Jiang-linked suspects detained at city public security headquarters mutated!”
Song Zang froze. “…What do you mean? Explain clearly.”
“I don’t know how to explain it either. Headquarters just sent two photos. I’ll send them to you right now. The entire detention area and interrogation rooms were swallowed. Everyone fused into one mass, like a huge meatball. You understand what I mean?” Chen Jing Sheng sounded anxious. “Brother Song, this thing is extremely dangerous. We have to kill it, or everyone in Xinjiang City will become part of the meatball!!”
“You’re talking too fast. Slow down. Watch out for aspiration pneumonia.” Song Zang frowned and opened his phone.
Only half a bar of signal remained, barely hanging on. The images Chen Jing Sheng sent slowly resolved across the screen inch by inch.
They had probably been taken up close by some officer on duty who risked his life for a clear photograph of the monster.
“Meatball” really was the most accurate description.
Song Zang enlarged the image and studied it. It looked somewhat like a spherical stitched monster from a video game, except far more twisted and evil than anything a game designer could create. The details chilled anyone who looked closely.
The enormous blood-soaked mass was stuffed full of miscellaneous objects, and there were many kinds of “objects.”
Countless human faces, severed limbs, fingers, tables and chairs from interrogation rooms, a detective’s torn coat, service pistol and belt, several broken steel bars impaling corpses, even a nearly shattered mug pressed directly against the blue-white, lifeless face of a stranger.
Chen Jing Sheng explained over the radio that the meatball was not only immensely destructive. It could also “absorb into itself” any person or object that touched it, killing them instantly, turning everything into nourishment for its growth, then continuing to roll onward and consume more.
Even firing machine guns into it had no effect. High-powered bullets touching the meatball vanished like mud sinking into the sea, swallowed and wrapped up in an instant until they could no longer be found.
Within only a few minutes, every prisoner and police officer inside the detention area had been crushed and consumed into part of the meatball. Surviving detectives emptied their magazines before realizing resistance was meaningless and could only begin desperately evacuating nearby residents.
Electronic images could not reveal the supernatural energy churning and writhing inside the meatball. Song Zang would still have to go there himself and see what was actually happening.
So he turned toward Little Cao. “Little Cao, thank you for saving me, but what comes next is too dangerous. You can’t be involved anymore.”
“I fucking don’t have the life to get involved!”
“Mm-hm.”
Song Zang smiled good-naturedly and landed the helicopter steadily at the edge of the Building C ruins.
Chen Jing Sheng sent two medical workers out to receive them. They rushed forward and quickly stabilized Little Cao’s blood-soaked dangling arm.
Chen Jing Sheng himself came out too, still uneasy. “Brother Song, don’t tell me you’re going alone…”
Song Zang looked up and cut him off. “Protect Ye Xiao Xi. Don’t let her go insane and kill all of you. That’s your first priority.”
Inside Ye Xiao Xi’s grid, layer after layer of spider silk almost completely covered her body, finding the player most likely to fall and silently infiltrating every possible opening.
Chen Jing Sheng’s expression stiffened slightly. “All right. Is there anything underground I should be guarding against?”
Song Zang shook his head. His gaze passed over the withered collapsed web and the stiff, blank, resentful but weak child spirits pinned deep beneath the ruins by the silk.
Within the web’s covered territory, they could freely spread warped malice, harass community residents at will, contaminate once-happy people and families, manufacture countless disasters and tragedies, and fill Happiness Community with endless suffering and despair.
Outside the community, no one knew anything about the sealed secrets hidden in darkness, and no one possessed the ability to interfere.
Because the community residents had specifically been left behind as 【venting toys】 for them.
That was Song Zang’s conclusion after eliminating the other possibilities.
The bones buried in the foundations belonged to innocent, ignorant children when they died. They never possessed the ability to plan any world-shaking conspiracy, nor would they inexplicably “contribute their own flesh” to be turned into fried skewers by Auntie Li so Song Zang could make a huge profit.
Beyond that, according to karmic revenge and the usual retaliation patterns of infant spirits and little ghosts… the evil and resentment breeding day and night inside the bones should have targeted their killers.
But the killers had lived better than anyone.
Before tonight, the perpetrators had risen one after another as new business elites, careers thriving, faces glowing in every public appearance. Not a single one had fallen.
Extremely suspicious.
After organizing the clues, Song Zang felt increasingly certain.
“All of you go back now. Find cover and keep hiding. I’m going to bomb the community a second time.” Song Zang finished calmly and slammed the red button on the helicopter instrument panel four times in succession.
The resentful spirits born from the living foundation sacrifices had to obtain happiness. The prerequisite for happiness was vengeance fulfilled and resentment released.
But at the same time, they seemed to have been used as an energy source for another terrifying organism, with the strange colorless web serving as both cage and transmission channel, continuously sending their power to another part of Xinjiang City.
To that bizarre meatball that had suddenly appeared.
Song Zang decided to weaken their power first with modern weapons, then go kill the meatball. That would make the fight far more satisfying and effective.
Chen Jing Sheng had learned his lesson and no longer interfered with Song Zang’s operational decisions. Only Little Cao continued shouting, “Fuck, you lunatic, can you stop trying to die?!”
Chen Jing Sheng knocked him unconscious without hesitation and dragged him away. Silence returned to the community.
Song Zang tore away the shredded remains of the pants around his legs, ripped open one corner of the spiderweb, turned, and walked away.
Two missiles arrived precisely dozens of seconds later, flying straight into the depths of the community garden and erupting behind Song Zang in dazzling pillars of flame.
Song Zang did not take the broken helicopter again. Transportation in an ordinary world simply could not match the speed of his own legs.
For efficiency, he climbed directly onto the high-voltage electrical grid spanning the entire city and sprinted along it toward public security headquarters.
Numbing current ran through his whole body. Small birds scattered from the power lines in fright. The little topknot on Song Zang’s head bobbed up and down as he suddenly accelerated.
Even Yin Chen was inexplicably shocked several times. Electrical sparks crackled along his scales with plenty of noise and almost no damage.
Yin Chen speechlessly opened his eyes and lazily woke completely from sleep. The tip of his tail hooked around another lock of Song Zang’s hair and tugged hard, fixing himself firmly to Song Zang’s head.
Song Zang hissed lightly, then could not help laughing. “Does this count as a date? Deep night, standing high above the world where nobody can reach us, running along lethal power cables together. So romantic.”
Yin Chen: …
Whatever Yin Chen thought, Song Zang was delighted. His desire to fight immediately shot through the roof.
A romantic date naturally ought to include one bloody battle.
The enormous meatball towering in the city center had already grown several times larger than in the photographs.
Song Zang could see its slowly expanding horrific shape from two kilometers away.
It was rolling quickly toward a residential building across from the public security bureau.
The hideous mass coated in dust and debris devoured reinforced concrete at a ruinous speed, producing wet, sticky sounds of flesh joining together. The humans living inside the building could not escape either.
Several military armed drones circled it and fired continuously, but every attack was meaningless. They merely fed the terrifying mass another meal of metal and explosives, making it even more dangerous.
The closer Song Zang came, the more he could appreciate how abnormal it was. The seemingly soft surface of the meatball was gradually changing. Without anyone noticing, a silver-white sheen spread across it, mixed with streaks of blood-red and reflecting the moonlight.
It could absorb metal.
And it could absorb metal’s beauty and strength.
“Fuck, the signal here is awful! Has anyone contacted General Sun? We have to try the newest mortars. Bullets are useless!!!”
“Shut the fuck up! What if it swallows the mortar too and evolves into a meatball landmine? You wanna blow Xinjiang City off the map?!”
High position meant long hearing range. Beneath cover on a building not far from Song Zang, several people anxiously argued over combat strategies, ready to punch one another whenever they could not agree.
Very much in Pilot Cao’s style. As expected of Grandpa Sun’s subordinates.
Song Zang listened quietly for half a minute, then reached a conclusion.
Unless they used an extreme method above the nuclear level and destroyed the entire city in one brutal strike… this monster might be something only he could kill.
Because even if the meatball swallowed Song Zang, it would never be able to 【absorb and assimilate】 him.
Song Zang was eager to test it. He first video-called Chen Jing Sheng. Once the call connected, he threw the phone directly toward the two men who were arguing below.
The men hiding behind cover nearly lost their souls from fright. They looked up along the phone’s arc and saw a slender, beautiful young man standing atop a towering utility pole.
His bare feet rested directly on a slightly damaged high-voltage wire. A delicate gold anklet hung around his pale ankle. His loose beige lounge pants had been torn off at the knees, uneven edges stained with unknown blood and dust.
He looked like a beautiful madman shattered by some terrible experience and now recklessly seeking death.
But Song Zang was perfectly alive, lively as ever.
Smiling, he waved. Terrifying electrical sparks burst around him. His voice remained soft and harmless. “Brothers, help me livestream with the phone.”
“Fuck, a ghost!!!”
Before they could finish shouting, Song Zang jumped.
Following the layered colorless spider silk, he fell deep into the meatball in a posture almost like sacrificing himself.
Every irritating noise outside disappeared in the next instant.
Faint corrosive energy wrapped around him. Flesh surged and squeezed in from all sides, trying to crush and digest Song Zang.
At least to Song Zang, it was… faint. Not especially threatening.
His clothing, however, was slowly torn apart and rapidly corroded into melted scraps. Song Zang was about to become □□, and that was the most embarrassing part.
Song Zang experimentally pushed against the sticky flesh in front of him. No sound came back.
He could hear nothing. His vision was hazy too. Within the meatball’s strange internal space, only endless silence remained.
As long as he could not die, it was fine. Song Zang paid little attention to the weak discomfort and continued following the silk deeper inside.
The main spider-silk trunk really did connect to the core of the meatball, but unease still lingered in Song Zang’s heart. He suspected this was not the true end of the web.
After all, Happiness Community was not the only place where living foundation sacrifices had appeared. The monster’s source of power could not possibly be limited to resentful spirits and innocent residents beneath Happiness Community.
“Be careful. Don’t get yourself killed.”
Yin Chen suddenly spoke.
Song Zang’s steps stopped dead. He was genuinely startled. He could not even hear his own heartbeat, and had no idea where Yin Chen’s strange voice had come from.
The little snake was clearly still curled on top of his head. How did this work?
Song Zang was surprised but could not answer aloud. He could only hurriedly nod to show he understood.
Because he was currently holding his breath for an extended period.
The slightest attempt to inhale would draw mucus, pieces of various corpses, and metal fragments into his chest.
Compared with the black sludge beneath Jerusalem, though, the smell inside the meatball was almost friendly and refreshing. Song Zang accepted it with ease.
He dug through mass after mass of flesh with his bare hands, threw them behind him, and followed the trembling silk deeper at high speed.
As time passed, foreign matter nearly sealed Song Zang’s eyes shut. Unfamiliar pieces of fat and foul blood coated his fragile black lashes and eyes, thick and heavy, some still carrying bizarre traces of warmth.
He simply closed his eyes and, like a blind man, continued walking quickly and steadily toward the dangerous endpoint.
Only when the spider silk became thicker and thicker, and the suffocating warmth and stickiness inside the meatball faded into an extremely ominous chill, did Song Zang stop immediately and wipe his eyes with one hand.
When he opened them again, he had reached the deepest point inside the meatball.
At the center, there was no filthy residue at all. Only a “cocoon” the size of Song Zang’s head floated in midair.
Dense layers of spider silk wrapped and protected the “cocoon.” Strange ghostly light packed with vitality leaked between the threads and illuminated the spherical chamber.
Everything absorbed and consumed by the meatball traveled along the overwhelming web into the cocoon, where it was purified and converted into exceptionally clean evil energy.
From inside the cocoon came the sounds of flesh growing and hearts beating.
Song Zang should not have been able to hear them, but he did. Together with the spider silk wrapped around his arm, those vigorous sounds of gestation became exceptionally vivid.
Not one heart, but many.
What was it gestating? What could it possibly give birth to?
Song Zang could not tell, but he had experience. In a modern instance where supernatural power rarely appeared openly, any life successfully gestated from a meatball like this would be effectively invincible and immortal.
Who in this world possessed the resources to contact a sinister method of immortality like this, and the resources to spend enormous effort exploring, constructing, and validating it?
The beneficiaries within the Jiang family’s system.
If the meatball were allowed to finish consuming and restructuring enough energy, perhaps they would gain the chance to emerge from the cocoon as unimaginable monsters. The only problem was that police action had moved too quickly, forcing this deeply prepared regeneration plan to begin prematurely.
The living people inside Happiness Community were not even all dead yet.
If everyone had died and been drained one by one into walking corpses… the perfect cage covering the community probably would not have been so easy for Song Zang to tear apart.
The side mission had quietly reached ninety-nine percent. The final one percent refused to move, making it especially significant.
That suggested the solution too. Killing the root cause and mastermind behind all this suffering was the only way to give every innocent living victim, living corpse, and dead spirit a…
Song Zang curled his lips and without hesitation drove a heavy punch into the floating cocoon.
The meatball shuddered violently under the enormous force. Its once-dense horrifying flesh structure instantly collapsed into rotten sludge. The cocoon exploded into powder, and the spiderwebs that had hastily gathered around it surged forward like a belated repair crew, trying to mend Song Zang’s devastating damage.
It was meaningless.
Every life inside the cocoon had already died. Thick, sticky, icy black water slowly seeped out, soaking the spider silk until it hung wet and helpless.
Song Zang still did not stop. He pulled out his iron wok, aimed at the shapeless broken cocoon, and smashed it hundreds of times with all his strength, flattening even the remaining fragments into paper-thin dust.
One punch had already been enough, but finishing blows were always a good habit for an excellent player.
Sure enough, a deep-blue system screen immediately appeared before him, notifications popping up one after another.
【Clear Requirement: You must make them feel happy (3/3)】
【Side Mission: Perhaps you can make them feel happy too? (100%)】
【Congratulations, Player. You have cleared the instance “Happiness Community.” Rewards are being calculated…】
He could go home.
The entire meatball trembled uncontrollably. Unable to withstand Song Zang’s utterly unrestrained violence, it had already begun collapsing rapidly, fluid pouring everywhere.
Song Zang exhaled. He had intended to wait for the meatball to collapse on its own, but suddenly realized… he was not wearing any clothes anymore. That seemed a little indecent.
“Yin Chen, can you turn into clothes and wrap around me?”
No one answered.
Only the dense spider silk, now without a target, gave off faint tremors. Like headless flies, the strands flew wildly around, then unexpectedly gathered into an unusually thick cable and wrapped tightly around Song Zang’s waist.
Song Zang suddenly panicked a little. He reached up to touch his head and found his hair loose and scattered. The little snake had disappeared at some unknown time.
“Yin Chen? Where did you…”
Before he could finish, a burst of agony struck his waist. An unimaginable force dragged him forward at terrifying speed.
Song Zang instinctively tried to resist, but in the next moment he watched the instance world split open into a massive hole. Interwoven signals and the virtual world’s framework all looked dim, weak, and withered.
The spider-silk cable gathered toward a direction that led straight into the end of the opening, toward a bottomless abyss of complete darkness.
Yin Chen was not beside him.
If that was the case, then Yin Chen had to be inside the abyss. Whatever the reason, there was no second possibility.
This was an excellent chance to uncover the truth. Extremely dangerous, but impossible to miss.
Song Zang released the strength he had been using to resist and let the spider silk coil tightly around his narrow waist, dragging him rapidly into the depths of the opening.
Darkness.
Black light.
Black light gleaming in every imaginable color.
…Darkness.
Dizzy and disoriented, Song Zang forced his dry, aching eyes wide open, yet all he could see were these inexplicable lines of light crossing one another.
Finally, everything returned to darkness.
Song Zang had not dared close his eyes from beginning to end, but the instant the dragging stopped and he reached the destination, his breathing still halted. Alarms screamed wildly through his instincts, while near-death pain pulsed through his temples.
A familiar yet unfamiliar alternate space.
A familiar yet unfamiliar world of darkness.
The exact same image had appeared twice within his fragmented memories.
This was the third time.
But Song Zang could see nothing and hear nothing. It was as though he had truly become completely blind. He could only remain on the highest possible alert, standing absolutely still, holding his breath and concentrating, not daring take even one careless step forward.
One wrong step could leave him without even a whole corpse.
At a moment like this, caution came first.
Song Zang possessed exceptional patience. As long as nobody attacked him first, he could stand there forever.
He had no idea how long he waited. Perhaps ten minutes, perhaps several hours… Like rain arriving after a long drought, he finally heard Yin Chen’s voice, accompanied by indescribable sounds of tearing and writhing, strange electrical noise no one could decode, and the terrifying roar of a world collapsing.
Violent, frenzied rage and killing intent cold enough to freeze bone.
“Who let him in?”
“Every one of you deserves to die.”