In the 23rd century, humanity had developed fully immersive brain-computer interfaces that let people experience any scene in a game.
“Liya.”
“I'm here.”
“Give me a reasonable explanation.”
“You transmigrated.”
“Try another one.”
“You died suddenly after clearing the game. Everything you're experiencing now is a deathbed hallucination.”
“That one's more reasonable.”
“Master, aren't you worried at all that you've transmigrated?”
“How do I get back?”
“Just clear the game one more time.”
“Hah, I'm a veteran player who was the first on the whole server to clear the game. Transmigration is just another playthrough.”
Jiang Lan remained perfectly calm.
Damn it!
Of all things, why did I have to transmigrate?
What do you mean I can't go back after clearing the game?!
“As expected of you, Master!”
The Abyss opened its eyes beneath the wasteland of the twenty-third century.
Unspeakable whispers crawled up the sides of wells, while the outlines of the Old Ones slowly took shape in the fog. Fortress cities crumbled, twisted, and fell silent beneath their gaze. Humanity exhausted every flame and scrap of steel, yet still could not hold back the approaching end.
Jiang Lan, the sole player on the entire server to clear "Evil God Descends" first. After transmigrating, he was given a role that had nothing to do with “slaying gods.” Instead, he was handed a deeper, almost cursed task: contain seven Old One organs scattered across the world before the evil gods truly descended.
Each one sealed an Old One's power, enough to twist the world. As they slumbered, they whispered his name. A dark-gold, silent Soul Ruin spread around him, swallowing all the noise and screams into stillness.
The farther he went, the closer he came to the core, and the more clearly he saw what truly lay behind that coming descent.
“Liya, you're starting to seem less and less like an AI...”
