Chapter 1 Now, Only I Remain

Now, only she was left.

Agatha slowly withdrew her gaze from the lantern, turned away from the cold, still darkness where she had left Administrator Winston, and stepped towards the interwoven "branches" in the endless space, towards the vast, dome-like screen of thorns.

A dim lantern hung at her waist, her right hand gripped the cane that had accompanied her for many years in her memory, and her left hand still tightly clutched the brass key from Winston—the key was no longer icy, but carried a heat like body temperature, as if... it was gradually merging with her body.

But Agatha no longer cared about any changes in her body.

She merely stepped forward in the darkness, feeling her body truly moving forward. As long as the surrounding chaos had not completely swallowed and assimilated her, she still had reason to move on.

She sought a foothold in the void, and each time she took a step, a path-like ground appeared in the darkness. She sought a way out among the thorns, and there were often narrow openings between the interwoven branches to pass through.

The sharp "thorns" quickly tore her clothes. The dense "fabric" was as fragile as loose ash and mist before the thought-spikes of the ancient gods. The falling fragments condensed into wriggling black droplets in the darkness, merging into the path beneath her feet. She also occasionally touched the sparks that leaped and wandered among the thorns—when she touched those flashes, she could almost clearly feel something drilling into her mind.

It was the thought of the ancient gods, a murmur from the Deep, Dark Lord—without any malice, not even a complete intention, but for a weak mortal, even the briefest spark of thought was dazzling, like a magnificent candle in the dark night.

Another dim flash quickly transmitted from afar, sliding along the black thorn branches past her vision. A strand of Agatha's hair intertwined with the flash, and in a split second, new "knowledge" appeared in her mind.

Agatha could not understand the information these sparks were conveying to her—just as Winston had told her, do not try to fathom the thoughts of the ancient gods.

It would drive you mad.

She raised her head.

The magnificent structure formed by the withered wood and thorn bridge dominated her vision. Dense, dim flashes danced like fireflies in the thorns. A thin mist shrouded the outside of the thorn barrier, and in the depths of the mist, the Deep, Dark Lord’s massive limbs were swaying slightly—like an invitation.

It grew cold again—a cold that was more distinct and piercing than before, a cold that was damp and seemed to penetrate the body, freezing the bones.

Agatha subconsciously tightened her clothes around her chest, only to find that her clothes were already tattered, and the thorns along the way had left countless wounds, large and small, on her skin.

In the wounds, a turbid, black, viscous substance蠕动ed like blood.

But just when she thought the cold would completely swallow her, a weak, warm heat came from her chest again…

A small, green flame burned quietly on Agatha's chest, its faint green light illuminating her face and the cold, damp sewer around her.

All senses seemed distant, or separated from her reason by a thick veil. The temperature in her veins seemed to have faded with the passage of time, along with the accumulated fatigue and pain.

Agatha slowly shook her head, trying to dispel the numbness that occupied her mind, and as her vision swayed, she suddenly caught a glimpse of a strange sight.

She saw the dark, enclosed sewer corridor ahead suddenly widen, and a layer of mist rose in the hazy space, with things like branches or thorns emerging from the mist and slowly spreading towards her.

But the next moment, this illusory scene vanished, and she still saw only the dark corridor.

And a gate at the end of the corridor.

Thump… thump…

The moment she gazed at the gate, Agatha seemed to hear a虚幻 heartbeat beside her ear, as if a huge heart was hidden behind the door, constantly beating and growing in the darkness.

Agatha's already dull and numb spirit suddenly perked up, and her eyes instantly focused on the door.

"Ah... I've found you..."

She put away the flame in her palm and stepped into the darkness. The almost-broken combat cane supported her forward for the last time. Her pace quickened, even gradually stirring up the wind. She stepped into the darkness, leaving the darkness behind her, and the low, terrifying heartbeat gradually struck her heart like a heavy drumbeat, even striking her mind.

Gradually, she heard something else mixed in with the heartbeat, something that sounded like thousands of people praying, chanting, and calling out to some dark and indescribable existence.

But she no longer cared how much noise was mixed in with those sounds—she was about to deliver the fire to the deepest part of the heretics' lair, which lay ahead.

The sound of the cane and heels striking the ground rang out densely.

Just then, Agatha suddenly heard another sound—not her own footsteps, nor the heartbeat and the crowd's prayers coming from the depths of the corridor.

It was another sound of footsteps, a large group of people. The dense footsteps sounded as if they were coming from another direction—very close to the corridor in front of her, but separated by one or two walls.

Gunshots came from the footsteps, from large-caliber rifles.

Other people? Living people? Are there others acting with me in this Mirror City?!

Questions instantly flooded Agatha's mind, but these questions did not affect her pace forward—she almost instantly rushed through the last section of the road before the gate, arriving at the door from which the heartbeat was constantly coming.

The door was slightly ajar, and the gap was filled with a darkness so thick that it could not be dissolved. The darkness was as substantial as it was, spreading and flowing outwards little by little.

But this was exactly the goal Agatha had been searching for all along. She braced herself against the heavy door with her shoulder, and used all her strength to slowly push it open.

With a creaking sound, the door opened. A vast darkness appeared before Agatha—or rather, a boundless "shadow" shrouded the originally normal space, leaving only darkness before her eyes.

She could barely make out that the darkness seemed to be a 大厅, the widest intersection in the sewer had been transformed into a sacrificial site for sacrifice and the孕育 of ancient gods. Countless shadowy, shapeless things蠕动ed in the darkness, and malice, like a foul stench, rushed towards her.

Then, before she could react, she heard a swift whooshing sound from the nearby darkness, and something was attacking her. A familiar and disgusting voice rang out from the distant sacrificial ground—with mockery and ridicule: "Ah, the final sacrifice has finally arrived—very good, the other you has also arrived at the designated place."

"Bang!"

The cane swung out, bursting out a short, bright spark in the darkness. A section of grotesque and strange limb was broken in mid-air and fell at Agatha's feet. She almost lost her balance due to the impact—after barely regaining her balance, she immediately raised her head and looked in the direction from which the voice had come.

She could barely see the tall, thin figure of a young man standing at the end of the darkness.

He opened his arms towards her.

"Come, sacrifice. Your arrival is part of the plan—now, it's time to construct the passage."

Agatha supported herself with her cane, slowly raising her head in weakness and dizziness: "You are courting death..."

"Yes, we will all die here, but it doesn't matter. As long as you step in here, the ritual will have already succeeded—I admit, this is indeed a trap."

With a bang, a gunshot and a blaze of light tore through the dimness of the corridor. A powerful bullet blew the head off a twisted monster with three eyes. The latter's mutated, hideous body fell to the ground, quickly melting and disintegrating, turning into a disgusting black slime.

But more roars of monsters continued to ring out from all around, and more deformed and twisted things were constantly冒出来—from the surrounding walls, pipes, drains, and even the cracks in the穹顶.

Mud-like substances were seeping and flowing out of almost every visible crack, turning into countless monsters that were similar to humans but not quite.

"I don't think we brought enough bullets!"

A sailor shouted loudly while quickly reloading his rifle, raising his gun, and firing. His shout was accompanied by the crackling sound of幽灵烈焰 burning, sounding hoarse and dark.

Lawrence had no time to respond to the sailor's shout—a swift wind came from behind his head. He only had time to slightly turn his body to avoid the fatal blow, and then instinctively grabbed back.

A humanoid monster wearing a city guard uniform from decades ago and holding a sword was dragged down from behind him and fell heavily on the floor.

Lawrence stepped forward and stomped heavily on the chest of the counterfeit freak. The幽灵烈焰 on his body instantly rose and burned, and the spreading flames burned the human-like monster into a pile of ashes almost in an instant.

The next moment, Lawrence, covered in幽灵烈焰, raised his head and looked at the corridor ahead, which seemed to never end.

Everywhere he looked, there were blasphemous and畸形 things.