[When myth enters the real world, who guards humanity’s last line of defense?]
That day, a gray mist descended upon the world.
Where the mist reached, people vanished and life was laid to waste. The authorities called it “advection fog,” but Lin Yue knew that wasn’t true. He had seen it with his own eyes: after the thing in the mist devoured Uncle Li from across the hall, it came back wearing his skin and knocked on the door.
At the age of twenty-three, Lin Yue was taken by a madman who emerged from the mist to Longqi Mountain Psychiatric Hospital.
The ones locked up there weren’t patients. They were gods.
The bald man squatting in a corner and drawing circles called himself the Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal. The gaunt, stick-thin man who happily gnawed on a door panel was the legendary Taotie. And the one who burst into tears at the slightest thing, causing floods whenever he cried, was named Gonggong.
The bronze key that had hung around Lin Yue’s neck for twenty-three years was the warden’s token for this “Divine Prison of the Myriad Heavens.”
Three thousand years ago, after the Investiture of the Gods War, humanity’s mightiest experts built the Divine Prison and confined every god they could neither kill nor set free. Three thousand years later, the seals were weakening. The mist descended, and the escaped beings began stirring in the corners of the human world.
As the nineteenth-generation warden, Lin Yue had only one job:
Bring back the ones who escaped;
Force the ones who woke up back to sleep;
Knock out anyone trying to break out with a club.
