I Gather Gods in the Wasteland
Gray fog blankets the world. Old Gods awaken from humanity’s subconscious, and civilization teeters on the brink of madness.
Chen Huang used to be an undertaker at a funeral home, closing the eyes of more than three hundred deceased. After the apocalypse began, tests showed that his contamination index exceeded the measurement limit. He was locked in the lowest level of the Ninth Containment Facility, assigned number 094. There, the bronze coffin sleeping in his mind roared for the first time. It hungered to devour gods.
When the containment facility erupted into chaos, horrors broke out of their cells, and guards fled for their lives, Chen Huang tore off his prison uniform, revealing the Zhenyi Bureau insignia branded onto his back. He walked against the fleeing crowd into the depths of the darkness. “You’ve got it wrong,” he told the grotesque, twisted monsters. “You’re the ones who should be running.”
He contained the God of Dreams and wove nightmares; devoured the God of Flesh and Blood and rebuilt his ruined body; subdued the Lord of the Wasteland and commanded all things. With every god he contained, he inherited a new power and shouldered another kind of madness: the mutterings of every insomniac in the world, a primal craving for flesh and blood, and the cold emptiness left behind when emotions were stripped away.
But a truth more terrifying than the Old Gods awaited him in the depths of the gray fog. On the far side of the moon, a warning was carved into the base of ancient Qi cultivators: Don’t let Them see Earth. And the true Outer Gods of the Cthulhu Mythos were approaching from the depths of the universe.
This is the story of a band of “madmen” protecting humanity. They turn their broken bodies into kindling, lighting one last lamp in the long night beneath the gods’ gaze.
