True Apocalypse Game

The voice sounded measured and calm, carrying an authentic Brooklyn accent. It was the kind of voice you’d hear from a political leader giving a speech on TV.

Shen Feng strode forward through the door, and an auditorium-like space immediately opened up before him.

Two middle-aged men in suits stood there, smiling at Shen Feng.

Beside them, a dozen or so children were sprawled on the floor, continuously smearing paint as they drew.

Next to the children was a huge bathtub filled with red pigment, which gave off the sharp, metallic stench of blood.

Next to the bathtub was a pile of children’s corpses, all covered in wounds.

Their eyes were either shut tight or staring wide open, making them look like a pile of lifeless dolls.

Clearly, the so-called red pigment was human blood.

"It really is the President pro tempore... Cheney!" Joey muttered, standing behind Shen Feng.

This man often appeared on television, delivering sanctimonious speeches. He enjoyed a high level of prestige and a good reputation among the public, making him an extremely influential politician.

The President pro tempore of the Eagle Country Senate is the second-highest-ranking official in the Congressional Senate and its most senior member. He is third in the presidential line of succession, after the Vice President and the Speaker of the House of Representatives.

When he heard Shen Feng say they were coming to take out President pro tempore Cheney, Joey had found it hard to believe, wondering if Mr. Savior’s intelligence might have been mistaken.

But now, looking at Cheney and the poor, wounded children beside him, Joey felt his blood boil. He wanted nothing more than to tear the sanctimonious beast to shreds.

"Kill him!" Joey roared. The next instant, he, Aili, and Thomas were already lunging forward in their Battle Armor.

Just then, a humming sound suddenly filled the hall. The charging trio suddenly tumbled out of the air. Their Battle Armor, after a flash of electric arcs, seemed to turn to black ash and began to rapidly flake away.

Having suddenly lost that immense power, they were immediately enveloped by an intense feeling of smallness and helplessness.

That superhuman power was truly addictive, and now they had lost it!

"What... What is this!?" Joey demanded grimly, pulling his gun and aiming it at Cheney.

"It must be a strong electromagnetic pulse," Thomas said, quickly turning to look at Mr. Savior, afraid something might have happened to him too.

Fortunately, the man in the hood and mask was still standing there perfectly fine, as if nothing had happened.

"Heh heh, Mr. Savior," Cheney said with a smile, "the Purification Society has analyzed the traces you’ve left and reached a conclusion. Your greatest reliance is nothing more than the nanomechanical Gray Tide. When it comes down to it, you’re just like us—an ordinary mortal who has never transcended his own existence." He made a welcoming gesture. "Welcome... mortal."

His tone was full of contempt, seemingly intended to provoke Shen Feng.

By now, the remaining Special Service Bureau agents had entered the hall and taken up various positions, ready to attack.

As the agency responsible for protecting the President, Vice President, and other key dignitaries, the Special Service Bureau was staffed by battle-hardened agents. Their seasoned experience was evident just from their positioning.

As police officers, Joey, Thomas, and Aili immediately understood that the agents had secured excellent defensive positions, allowing them to attack anyone in the hall with no blind spots.

Then, Mr. Savior suddenly asked in a voice devoid of emotion:

"Are Whisperers mortals, too?"

Cheney froze, apparently not expecting such a question. After a few seconds, he broke into another cryptic smile and said:

"Mr. Savior, since you’re in the mood to talk, why don’t we sit down and have a chat."

With that, he made a "please" gesture and casually found a chair for himself.

Shen Feng did the same, finding a chair and sitting down. He looked at Cheney and continued his questioning:

"Where is Cthulhu? Is he already dead?"

Cheney had regained his earlier composure. Instead of answering Shen Feng, he posed a question of his own:

"Mr. Savior, have you ever heard of Freud’s theory of basic human instincts?"

Without waiting for Shen Feng to reply, he launched into his explanation:

"Humans possess two fundamental instincts: the life instinct and the death instinct. In our daily lives, the life instinct is typically dominant, which ensures the continuation of the human race."

"The death instinct, however, is humanity’s insane side. It includes the impulse to destroy others and oneself—the so-called criminal urge."

"The interplay between the life and death instincts has been the driving force behind the development of human nature."

Listening from the side, Joey was completely bewildered. Unsure what trick Cheney was playing, he whispered a warning to Mr. Savior:

"Mr. Savior, please be careful. In political circles, Cheney has always gone by the nickname ’Mephistopheles.’ He excels at manipulating people."

Mephistopheles was the Devil who tempted Faust into damnation, a fitting comparison for Cheney.

But after he spoke, Joey saw that the Savior, hidden beneath his hood and mask, showed no reaction. It was as if he was already contemplating Cheney’s question.

Joey grew anxious, but there was nothing he could do.

He couldn’t tell if Mr. Savior was simply pondering the question or was already being swayed by Cheney’s words.

Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a shadow sliding across the floorboards out of the corner of his eye. He quickly rubbed his eyes, but when he looked again, there was nothing.

Joey frowned. ’Strange...’ He shot a look at Aili and Thomas, signaling them to find cover and prepare to serve as Mr. Savior’s last line of defense.

Cheney was still rambling on:

"...But have you ever considered that perhaps the death instinct is the ultimate destination for all things? Love, an extension of the life instinct, is merely a fleeting moment. It holds no meaning when compared to the eternal theme of death... Furthermore, the emergence of the death instinct may be an inevitable part of any civilization’s, any species’, development. After all, nothing in the Cosmos can escape entropy, and your existence is nothing but a futile struggle on behalf of human civilization."

"In fact, your very existence may be an inevitable part of humanity’s transition from the life instinct to the death instinct—a destiny you cannot escape..."

Just then, the children simultaneously burst into sobs and wails of agony. Some reached up to wipe away their tears, only to smear their faces with the blood covering their hands.

And on the massive canvas on the floor, a painting was now complete.

Two Special Service Bureau agents lifted the crimson painting, which stood over ten meters tall, allowing everyone, including Shen Feng, to finally see what it depicted:

Amidst a world of rubble, flames raged. Behind Shen Feng were massive tentacles of the Gray Tide. He himself stood atop a mountain formed from tens of thousands of corpses, a wicked and cruel smile on his face as he looked down upon the silent Doomsday World. In the distance were collapsed ruins and a world on fire.

His mouth was half-open, and next to him was an American comic-style speech bubble containing the words he was saying:

"I will destroy the world."