I remember that ordinary night, the blood moon suddenly appeared in the sky, and all electronic devices suddenly went black for three seconds. When the screen lights up again, urban ghost stories tear apart reality - the chewing sound of the subway ogre echoes in Ginza, and the blood-stained red sedan crushes the lights of Temple Street.
Seventy-two hours later, thirty-seven cities were reduced to dead zones. The government built an electromagnetic dome to isolate the occupied areas. At this time, the bronze Blue Bird Tower rising from the desert at 30° north latitude became the final bet.
People say that as long as they clear the void dungeon in the tower, they can rewrite the doomsday, but when the pupils of those who clear the level are branded with bronze emblems, the wings of the blue bird on the top of the tower are always dripping with asphalt-like darkness - is this a countdown to redemption, or a lie before the world restarts?
Intention:1