Chapter Two: The Otherworld

In the northern mountains of Qingshan Province, a temporary military base had been established. About a kilometer from the base, a small pond fed by a mountain stream lay nestled among green grasses and vibrant wildflowers—a scene of tranquil harmony beneath the verdant hills. Nothing seemed different here from before, save for one anomaly: a streak of black light that had abruptly appeared beside the stream.

Indeed, it was black light—at a distance, it resembled a beam two meters long and as thick as an arm, hovering at the pond's edge. Only up close could one see that this black glow tore through the very fabric of space, gray mist occasionally seeping from its depths.

This was the void rift that had plunged the entire world into panic. Though it appeared innocuous, it harbored deadly danger—not only did frightening, spider-like creatures continuously "crawl" from within, but the gray mist it emitted could disrupt all wireless signals. Most alarming to global governments, however, was the discovery that the mist could halt certain chemical reactions.

Since the first rift appeared, nations had scrambled to study it. Over time, an unsettling truth emerged: the gray mist from the rift could weaken chemical reactions involving gunpowder and other combustibles. In areas affected by the mist, firearms and high-tech weaponry were drastically curtailed in power.

What did this mean? It meant that humanity's strength was diminished when facing those terrifying creatures from another world. Even under normal circumstances, conventional weapons could barely threaten those monsters—how much less so, now that their effectiveness was reduced? Thus, governments shifted their focus to sealing the rifts.

"Any word yet? Has anyone returned?" An off-road vehicle sped along the mountain path, and a high-ranking officer with golden insignia on his shoulder—clearly a general—stepped out.

"Not yet. I fear the outcome may be grim," replied another general, a major general who stood beside the rift with his troops at the ready. He shook his head, worry etched deep in his eyes.

"Ten squads of death-defying volunteers, thousands of elite soldiers, and not even a ripple to show for it. Old Wang, what do you think it's like in there?" The general who'd just arrived showed no surprise at the answer, as if he'd expected it, but his concern was even more pronounced than Major General Wang's.

"Who can say? Since the first of these damned rifts appeared, countries have sent hundreds of thousands of their best men inside, hoping to gather intelligence. Not a single one has returned alive. Who knows what kind of hell lies beyond—or if it's connected to hell itself," Wang replied, his voice bitter. Every man lost was a blow to his elite forces.

"Hell? Perhaps not. The latest news: someone in northern England has come back alive from a rift," the general said, handing Wang a sheet of printed paper. After glancing at the quiet rift in the distance, he continued.

"What? Someone returned alive? Did they bring back any information?" Wang was startled. He looked at the paper, which bore nothing but a single photograph. In it, a man dressed in black—his features indistinguishable, his body covered in blood and wounds—lay motionless, missing an arm and with a fist-sized hole in his chest.

"This photo was taken beside a spatial rift in northern England. The man died immediately after emerging—so he left no message. But look at his hand—look what he's holding!"

"Oh?" Only then did Wang notice that the man's sole remaining hand still gripped something.

"What is it? A rock?" Wang frowned, uncertain, and glanced at his companion.

"Exactly—a stone. But don't underestimate it. This suggests the rift connects to a real world, one with land. And since someone made it back, it's not certain death beyond—it's just that humanity isn't strong enough yet."

"Not strong enough? You mean this man wasn't an ordinary soldier, but one of those...?"

"Exactly. So you've heard. While the black mist weakens firearms, it can also cause astonishing changes in the human body. Old Wang, our world... is about to change!"

...

"Impossible! Where am I? Is this one of those spaces beyond the rifts?" Shen Lie forced himself to steady his spinning head, climbed to his feet, and gazed in astonishment at his surroundings.

This world was shrouded in gray, as if under perpetual cloud. The air was thick with mist, but nothing else seemed particularly unusual. Yet Shen Lie was certain he was no longer on Earth—for overhead hung not one, but two suns. One on the left, one on the right, both small—less than a third the size of Earth's sun—casting little light and leaving the sky oppressive and dark.

"Wait, where’s my pendant?" Shen Lie suddenly remembered the object that had brought him here from his bathroom. After opening the door, the pendant in his hand had flared with blinding light, and the next moment he’d appeared in this place.

"Ah, my head—ah, ahhh!" As he searched frantically for the pendant, a searing pain exploded in his head, knocking him to the ground where he lay writhing in agony. The pain came and went as swiftly as a tide. In a few breaths it receded, and Shen Lie regained control of his body, but the ordeal left him gasping, as though he'd been to hell and back.

"What the hell is going on?" Shen Lie cursed, turning his head—and there by his ear lay his pendant. But now it was covered in web-like cracks, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.

Everything that had happened today was beyond Shen Lie's comprehension. Still, he had heard of the mysterious void rifts, and since Qingshan Province was in the affected area, strange events were not entirely unexpected. He was not overly shocked—having stayed behind to study the pendant rather than evacuate with the others, he now resolved to inspect it closely.

Sitting up, he gingerly picked up the pendant, handling it as gently as if it were a lover’s tear. Yet even this light touch deepened the cracks, and with a faint sound, the pendant’s outer layer crumbled away.

Shen Lie’s lips twisted, and he was about to curse again when he saw that only the surface had shattered. Beneath it lay something else—a tiny token, shaped like a miniature command tablet. He examined it closely, but could see nothing remarkable about it. Still, the very fact it had been hidden inside the pendant was odd enough—he simply hadn't yet discovered its secrets.

At least he now knew what had caused the pendant to glow. It had transformed into this small token, and though it no longer shone, its surface was etched with strange patterns. With time, he could investigate further. For now, the oppressive atmosphere of this place made him desperate to leave. If this truly was the world beyond the void rift, it could be crawling with those spider-like monsters—it was best not to linger.

The very thought of the spider creatures sent a shudder down Shen Lie’s spine. He glanced back at the spot where he’d tumbled into this world, and there, a faint, egg-sized black dot flickered and pulsed. That must be a nascent void rift.

To think a void rift might form in his own bathroom filled him with cold sweat. Thank goodness he’d discovered it in time—otherwise, if a few spider monsters had emerged, he’d have ended up as their meal. As soon as he got back, he’d rejoin the evacuees—never again would he stay behind.

With that, Shen Lie began walking toward the black dot, reasoning that if he’d come through from that direction, he might return the same way. But after only a couple of steps, his face went pale: the indistinct dot was fading away.

Worse still, as the dot vanished, he saw a mass of blackness in the distance surging toward him like a tide, accompanied by a chorus of shrill, chittering cries.

"Damn!" Blood drained from Shen Lie’s face. He forced his shaking legs to move, abandoning all hope of finding the black dot—he turned and fled in terror.