Chapter 180: The Black Sun
When the thirteenth pillar of light rose, Xu Zhi—familiar with formation structures—immediately realized this was the final moment.
But the expected earth-shattering tremors never came. Everything was eerily still. Even the beasts that had been restless and frenzied for days suddenly quieted—not out of peace, but because they had sensed something. Something so terrifying that they dared not make a sound.
The only thing that changed drastically… was the Federation’s “sun.”
Since the formation’s activation, the sun had turned blood-red, its light carrying a faint pollution. Now, even that blood-red hue vanished.
In its place hung a pure black sun, its edges radiating an intense, blinding light. It looked like a vast, weeping black eye—black liquid tears streaming down from it, spilling into the mortal world below.
The sight struck Xu Zhi with déjà vu. She had seen this before—back when she first picked up the game console. When the game finished loading, the image on the screen had been exactly this.
Identical.
Xu Zhi clenched her teeth. This couldn’t be coincidence. The console must have known such a day would come. Yet the Narrator always claimed it couldn’t foresee the future… so perhaps that image was a calculated prediction, made after learning certain truths?
Or maybe, even then, the console had already determined that—at the rate events were unfolding—this day was inevitable.
The thought made Xu Zhi feel like she was being led by the nose. High above, some great being had set the pieces on the board, and she—just a pawn—was forced to move as they wished. She hated it.
Still, now that things had come to this, all she could do was survive the god’s game… And maybe—just maybe—figure out the true purpose behind it all. If possible, she wanted to flip the entire board over.
She pondered deeply—though only two minutes had passed.
Yet in those mere two minutes, the Federation had already fallen into utter despair.
From the instant the thirteenth pillar ignited and the black sun appeared, people left behind outside Cloud City began developing symptoms—purplish bruises as if from low platelets, bleeding gums, blood seeping from their nostrils and mucous membranes.
At first, the symptoms were mild, affecting only a few. But as time passed, more and more people were afflicted.
Then came something even more horrifying. Someone accidentally cut themselves—and the blood didn’t fall downward.
It floated upward, drifting toward the sky.
The sight was grotesque and terrifying. Panic spread, and countless citizens begged the government for help— but by now, the Federation could no longer protect its people. Order had completely collapsed.
And yet, despite that collapse, there was little violence. Everyone was too horrified by their own bodies’ changes. When word spread that wounds no longer healed, no one dared fight.
People hid in their homes, trembling under blankets, but the red blotches on their skin continued to spread.
Their gums, noses, and ears bled. Even their eyes grew bloodshot, oozing crimson tears. Their skin peeled away without warning, exposing raw flesh that bled freely— the blood rising, twisting upward, drawn toward the black sun.
All of this happened within half an hour.
The only faintly good news was that most of the victims were ordinary humans. Transcendents seemed to resist longer—their symptoms came later, weaker.
But that didn’t mean they were safe. They could sense the supernatural energy in the air better than anyone—and they noticed the truth:
When the sun turned black, every trace of transcendent energy in the Federation’s air vanished.
It was as if the world had been drained dry.
That meant they only had the energy within their own bodies—and whatever cores they possessed. But resisting the formation’s corrosion consumed vast energy. It was unsustainable.
Once their reserves were exhausted, they would end up just like the rest.
Under the black sun’s light, the Federation became a crucible of flesh and blood— everything living within it slowly melted down, their life, flesh, and even their souls refined into fuel for the black sun above.
The only apparent exception was Cloud City.
But even there, safety didn’t last.
Within minutes of the black sun’s rise, Xu Zhi sensed a strange aura seeping from the fissure. Remembering the Narrator’s warning, she immediately ordered the little aberration to shrink and withdraw from the rift.
The creature’s massive form could indeed shrink—it simply needed to maintain its full size to hold the fissure steady. Now that wasn’t necessary.
So, not understanding the danger, the little aberration cheerfully shrank down to its former, cat-sized self, leapt onto Xu Zhi’s shoulder, rubbed affectionately against her cheek, and allowed her to step back from the crack.
The moment its “seal” lifted, the fissure came alive. Once inert and still, it began to twist and pulse— as though something inside was tugging, clawing at it from within.
An ominous energy spread outward. Xu Zhi quickly grabbed the phone Zhong Lingfan had given her and sent an alert.
After regaining contact with the Federation, Cloud City had rebuilt its own communication system, so her message went through.
Then, as the fissure convulsed, something emerged—
A black claw, long and slender, its fingers sharp as scissor blades, slid out of the Midnight, gripped the edges of the rift, and with a light scrape, tore the crack wider, like slicing open fabric.
Then a second claw appeared—this one from an entirely different creature.
And those were only the beginning.
More and more grotesque things—of impossible shapes, unrecognizable forms—began to crawl from the fissure, crowding, pushing, competing to escape.
Together, their struggle widened the rift further and further— until, at last, the opening grew vast enough to rival what the little aberration had once sealed.
In the sky, a vast abyssal fissure now gaped open, from which flowed endless darkness and a suffocating aura of doom.
The countless “hands” that had been gripping the edges suddenly froze— as if realizing something— and all withdrew at once, retreating into the dark, making way for something far greater to emerge.
