Apocalypse Forecast

Chapter 489 - 426 Time Sequence Tailoring, Primitive Soup_1

When the light of the Rainbow Bridge dissipated in the darkness, an even more piercing light descended from the sky.

The colossal shadow rose once again from Hell, skimming over the Endless Sea and scattering burning dust. Beneath its enormous wings, tiny, dancing sparks fluttered, then fell and swiftly expanded.

Ultimately, the entire dark Deep Space was cloaked in omnipresent, scorching light.

It was as if 100,000 suns had descended into the sea's abyss here. Vicious streams of molten lava incessantly spewed from these fiery suns, then orbited them, forming solemn crowns.

But this heat, enough to boil the Endless Sea, did not fall upon the Group Star. Instead, with the Giant's roar, it converged toward the Miracle Imprint in his hand.

Surtur's body swelled rapidly, transforming in an instant from a staggering tens of meters tall to a terrifying form large enough to prop up the sky.

In his hand, the Sword of Flame swiftly contracted, drawing in the abundant ambient heat and radiating an indescribable, dim yellow light.

It was like a sunset about to fall below the horizon—Dusk itself.

In this twilight glow of Dusk, all things displayed a trace of decay, as if they were about to meet their end.

Sword of Destruction·Levantin!

The Miracle Imprint from mythology, which heralded the twilight of the gods, was reborn here.

Gathering all the light of the world, it heralded the arrival of eternal winter and the stillness of death.

The overwhelming heat that could incinerate everything, and the chilling aura that could freeze all things and bring death, converged on this single sword.

SLASH!

In an instant, a sharply defined chasm was carved across the entirety of the Endless Sea.

Stretching straight forward from beneath the Giant's feet, tens of millions of tons of seawater evaporated and then immediately froze, forming a pallid abyss that extended to the horizon.

A shattering sound arose from the countless double-helix pillars.

One half was covered by raging fire, riddled with scorch marks; the other half was utterly frozen at absolute zero.

The Secret Ritual forged by the Abyss Bloodline was shattered in an instant.

Like striking clay pots with a tin rod.

Yet, countless fragments, bearing scorch marks and frost, remained suspended in mid-air.

Aboard the Group Star, a staff tapped down.

Sir Matthes slowly raised his head, gazing indifferently at the unfolding scene.

Numbered Curse Bullets could not kill him.

It did not even count as a serious injury, merely superficial damage to his physical form, barely worth mentioning.

Even though the Astronomical Society had managed a minor comeback, he showed no agitation, merely lifting his hand again to command the myriad double-helix crystals in the sky.

He said, "I came unto the earth, not to have you take up arms, but to have you live in peace."

On the staff, the sharp eyes of its eagle-shaped head flickered with a brief flash of light.

The myriad crystals lit up, enveloping the Group Star. Its depth readings plummeted instantly. Then, the entire Group Star, along with the entangled Rotten Dream and the massive tree, became an ethereal, insubstantial phantom.

No weapon in the world could harm it.

The flame giant roared.

Surtur swung his sword down again. Simultaneously, the black-robed scholar, the Vice-Chancellor of the Ivory Tower, drew a pair of scissors from his robes.

Snipping lightly in the void.

Suddenly, everyone's vision blurred.

The phantom state of the Group Star abruptly vanished, as if no change had ever occurred. This allowed the giant's sword to instantaneously pierce through the vast vessel, tearing open the sea below, boiling the torrents, and causing immense clouds of steam to rise.

Pierced by the Sword of Flame, both the inverted giant tree and the Rotten Dream couldn't help but emit piercing roars, struggling furiously.

And as the giant withdrew his sword, the closed scissors once again opened.

The phantom state reemerged above the Group Star, but the wound inflicted by Surtur could no longer be healed.

Temporal Tailoring!

Wielded by the Vice-Chancellor, Cronus's Stigma in the scissors completely disrupted time, and the connections between events were utterly destroyed.

He cut out the time slice between the destruction of the double-helix Secret Ritual and the activation of the phantom state, stitching it into the phantom state's duration. This artificially created a deadly gap, allowing the giant to easily inflict a heavy blow on the Remaining Evils of the World and the Rotten Dream.

But after this successful strike, Mr. Shah's face suddenly turned deathly pale.

Opening his mouth, he vomited out lumps of pitch-black blood.

Once the blood clots left his body, they rapidly twisted and transformed, turning into Flying Birds that streaked through the air. They landed in Matthes's hands, reverted to blood, then solidified again into sharp double-helix crystals.

"Did you underestimate your enemy, Mr. Shah?"

He lifted his gaze, looking with displeasure at the injured Creator. "You surely don't think that after all these years, we haven't made any progress in the Abyss, do you? You'd better not display such crude tactics again."

Unknowingly, Shah had been cunningly outplayed by Matthes.

Struggling to breathe, Shah raised his hand, refusing the Vice-Chancellor's offer of assistance. He gave a strained smile. "I didn't expect to be the first to lose face—no matter. Since it has come to this, I must present something truly worthwhile for your appreciation, Sir Matthes."

In his hand, a small test tube slowly emerged, clenched tightly.

The stopper was pulled out.

Instantly, an amber-gold liquid flowed out, falling into the sea. A dazzling light surged from beneath the waters, rapidly spreading and multiplying, as if it could continually replicate itself.

Countless single-celled organisms, invisible to the naked eye, proliferated and spread wildly. They emitted a golden glow that dispelled all darkness, illuminating the deep sea and, in an instant, leaving no shadow between sea and sky.

In the amber-like seawater, primordial life forms surged frenetically, surfacing and extending new ecosystems, spontaneously gnawing at the foundations of the double-helix Secret Ritual and utterly overthrowing the framework Sir Matthes had established.

"Please enjoy to your heart's content, Sir Matthes."

Shah wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and said with a smile, "This is the origin of all life, a miracle that sprouted from the sea of mercy, the Primitive Soup V0.7 eternally brewed from proteins and enzymes—

"So long as these waters do not dry up, this place shall never be a domain for your Abyss Bloodlines!"

Matthes's expression grew solemn. He had never expected Shah's mastery of oceanography to be so profound that he could trace it back to the primordial era, recreating the emergence of life in the ancient sea and thus entering the core of Life Science through an unorthodox path.

But he quickly came to his senses…

This wasn't Life Science at all! What this bastard had created was indeed the Origin Spring of Current Circumstances Creatures, true, but when I examined it closely, I found the structure of this 'life' was completely different from what I had imagined.

What he had created wasn't life at all—it would be more accurate to call it pure non-life!

At this moment, within this sea of light, every luminous strand, every fleck of gold, was composed of countless identical microscopic cells. Their functions were limited to the simplest self-growth, self-replication, and self-iteration…

In other words, these were biological Von Neumann machines on the scale of trillions!

This was no heaven for primordial creatures; it was a hell! Even if it continued for eons, engulfing everything in the world, it would never produce beings with souls—only countless, incredibly complex autonomous machines!

Within the range of this Primitive Soup, my Abyss Bloodline's Secret Rituals and frameworks would indeed be suppressed, but I wouldn't be able to gain any advantage either!

This son of a bitch… this son of a bitch had just flipped the table!

It was like a radioactive dirty bomb suddenly detonating in the midst of intense gunfire.

His goal wasn't victory; it was to drag everyone else down into misery with him…

Is he such a sore loser?!

The Vice-Chancellor of the Ivory Tower had obviously realized what this substance was long ago. His gloomy expression grew even uglier, and he distanced himself a bit more.

Yet, he couldn't get away, let alone escape.

If having hostages previously gave them the upper hand, now it was their turn to defend, where a single misstep could be disastrous.

"Engraved—S Rioghail Mo Dhream!"

Glorious is my blood!

Matthes whispered, once again fostering countless double-helix pillars. He relied on the framework he had woven from laws to mount a defense, resisting the erosion of the Primitive Soup.

Seemingly displeased with his colleagues' slackness, he turned and urged, "Hey, is Nowhere not ready yet?"

In the midst of the fierce struggle, two ominous figures from the Abyss shook their heads reluctantly, raising their hands to point to the dark Abyss above them.

In the pitch-black Abyss, a pure white radiance had appeared at some unknown time.

Sacred light descended slowly from the Abyss, enveloping the entire sky. That was the realm forged by the Golden Dawn within the Abyss—their achievement, or perhaps... their ultimate weapon.

The mobile Hell of Nowhere.

However, Nowhere was now struggling to ascend further, unable to approach the border depth.

For before the pure white light, countless shadows resembling whale pods were slowly emerging.

Those were warships—hundreds upon hundreds of enormous Alchemy Battleships. Thunderous gunfire and successive flashes of light continuously erupted from within the Abyss.

At the thirteenth depth, the Astronomical Society's fleet had engaged the Golden Dawn, initiating saturation bombing.

The Deep Space Corps!

That was the Deep Space Corps' unique Fearless Fleet.

This legion, which had patrolled the depths in Alchemy Battleships since its inception, responded to the Astronomical Society's orders and ascended urgently. Its main combat echelons completed preparations and established a blockade within eight hours.

Upon detecting the appearance of Nowhere, they had immediately launched their "Offensive".

A war far fiercer than the one here was spreading through the Abyss. Countless Abyssal Creatures and Sublimators were already at each other's throats. All six subsidiary Abyss Legions of the Deep Space Fleet had deployed, clashing with the Abyss Horde fostered by the Golden Dawn in a struggle akin to a nightmare.

"Tsk, unreliable as always at critical moments…"

Matthes couldn't help but shake his head. He reached into his pocket, took out four ancient rings, and threw them into the air. A high-pitched horn blast resonated in the void.

By the covenant, dozens of immense shadows rose from the Abyss. The Owners of the Great Mob pierced directly through the Deep Space Corps' blockade, answering the call!

And at the same time, the light of the Rainbow Bridge kept descending from the heavens, one gigantic figure after another emerging from within.

The war began anew. No, it would be more accurate to say… it had never ceased, and at this moment, it grew even more ferocious.

And within the Rotting Dream, Huai Shi stared dumbfounded at all this.

A moment of thought, careful analysis, prudent consideration…

Had I agreed a bit too hastily just now?

"Is it still possible to get off this ride?" he asked, looking up.

Atop the fortress-like steel robot, Beelzebub, controlling the giant welding torch, laughed coldly and sealed the exit of Osiris shut.

"Thinking of getting off now?"

"Too late!"