Chapter 222: The Creeping Poison from the Bottom Crevice
The bottom maintenance tunnel was low and cramped. Fine rock dust continuously fell from the ceiling, and the beams of the flashlights were sliced into streaks of dim yellow light by the floating dust in the air. The three squads bent their waists, feeling their way inward along the pre-embedded cable troughs. Their boots stepped on the ground, which was covered in dust and fine rock debris, emitting a soft rustling sound.
The chilling, fishy stench of spores in the air grew thicker. It was no longer just a jumping red alert on the instruments; it was a tangible presence that drilled into their nasal passages and clung to their throats. The leading soldier raised his hand to signal for silence. Everyone slowed their pace, holding their short blades in front of them, their eyes fixed tightly on the seams of the cable routing troughs ahead.
The squad that arrived first at the southwest point stopped.
The flashlight beams tilted downward, illuminating the cracks in the routing trough. A thin, grayish-black spore film was slowly creeping upward along the geological seams of the rock layer. Beneath the film, countless spore particles, nearly invisible to the naked eye, writhed slowly like living creatures, clinging and climbing up the outer walls of the cables. The Spiderweb Ancient Being had not detonated the spore clusters. Instead, it advanced using this slow infiltration method, making no sound. By the time anyone noticed, the toxins would have already covered the entire bottom of the cabin.
"This is it." The squad leader lowered his voice, signaling his team to unpack the explosives. "Keep your movements careful so you don't disturb the spore clusters. We will only set up charges at the main nodes. After detonation, the entire routing trough will be sealed."
The explosives were secured at the main junction of the trough, and the fuses were pulled back to a safe position along the passage. The other two squads also took their positions at the spore convergence points in the due south and southeast areas. The three sides confirmed their readiness in turn, and short confirmation codes sounded over the communication channel.
"Synchronized detonation."
Three muffled, weak explosions echoed from the bottom of the cabin one after another. They were not as violent as the previous ventilation pipeline explosion; the shockwaves were confined within the seams of the rock layer. The scorching neutralizing powder blasted through the routing troughs, burning the creeping spore film to ashes. The melted sealing filler顺势 (naturally) flowed to firmly seal the three main seams. On the instruments, the three soaring spore concentration curves suddenly plummeted.
"The sealing of the three routing troughs is complete, and the spore infiltration is temporarily blocked," Lin Yan reported to the command area immediately, staring at the refreshed data on the terminal screen. "But the Spiderweb Ancient Being hasn't given up on infiltrating. The spore signals have dispersed again, turning into countless extremely fine spore clusters that are spreading along the more fragmented micro-crevices in the rock layer. There are too many crevices; we can't block them all."
Scholar Su nodded solemnly, his expression grave.
The shelter pod was rooted in the mountain's rock layer. The micro-crevices left by millions of years of geological movement were as dense as a spider's web; it was impossible for human power to seal them all. The operation they had just carried out was merely cutting off the three largest channels, delaying the invasion of the poison tide. It was treating the symptoms, not the root cause.
"Order the maintenance squads to withdraw to the upper level immediately. Do not stay at the bottom level for too long," Scholar Su ordered. "The maintenance team must continuously monitor the spore concentration throughout the cabin. Once the value at any point exceeds the standard, immediately activate the internal emergency neutralizing spray. All personnel should try to stay away from the bottom-level maintenance hatches."
The squad members retraced their steps back through the low tunnel. Just as they climbed out of the maintenance hatch, a new round of ramming sounds erupted from the outer walls of the shelter pod. This time, it was no longer scattered probing. Multiple scaled beasts rammed from all directions simultaneously. The muffled thuds merged into a continuous roar, causing the entire alloy cabin to tremble constantly. The overhead pipelines swayed gently, and several old circuit connectors sparked with tiny electrical sparks. The cabin lights flickered several times in succession before plunging into brief dimness.
During the few seconds of darkness, the Illusion Ancient Being seized the opportunity to unleash its illusions with full force.
Suppressed screams erupted from the civilian area. Some saw the floor beneath their feet melting in the dark, with black spores surging from the seams to wrap around their ankles. Others heard the calls of their relatives from outside the cabin walls and rushed toward the pod door in a frenzy, ramming against it. In the wounded area, several already weak patients lost their grip on reality and struggled wildly in pain. The military doctors and nurses could only pounce on them to hold them down, repeatedly shouting wake-up code words. Military police officers ran back and forth with flashlights, the beams sweeping across faces filled with terror and blank stares. It took a great effort to stabilize the order once again.
When the lights came back on, many people were leaning against the walls, gasping for air, their clothes soaked with cold sweat.
Deep within the cavern, the consciousness of the five ancient beings resonated quietly.
The Spiderweb Ancient Being had long anticipated that humans would seal the main routing troughs. Dispersing the spores was merely its backup plan; it did not expect to engulf the entire shelter pod with spores in a short time. Its goal was to continuously create an omnipresent sense of crisis—to make the people inside realize that above, below, and in the seams of the walls, the enemy could drill in from any corner at any time, making it impossible for them to ever truly feel safe.
The Sharp-Sense Ancient Being still maintained a constant erosion of the Sea of Consciousness, neither strengthening nor weakening, acting like a chronic poison. Soaked in this continuous psychic sting for a long time, everyone's sleep was shattered. Exhaustion piled up layer by layer, reaction speeds slowed down day by day, and patience and restraint were gradually worn thin.
The Illusion Ancient Being continued to alternate between two types of illusions, randomly switching between gentle, peaceful visions and sudden, horrifying scenes without any pattern. One moment they were dreaming of sunlight and their homeland; the next second, a scaled beast would tear open the cabin wall and pounce right in front of them. This irregular pulling was the most effective at destroying a person's mental state.
The Beast Commander continued to dispatch the scaled beasts to take turns ramming the outer walls and probing various weak points. It had already figured out the physical limits of this shelter pod and knew it could not be breached in a short time. The significance of the ramming was no longer to break into the pod, but to apply psychological pressure. The rhythm of the ramming was sometimes dense, sometimes silent, deliberately disrupting the daily routines of everyone inside. Sometimes there would be complete silence for several hours. Just as people relaxed their guard a little and grew drowsy, the violent ramming sounds would suddenly explode.
The supreme ruler's consciousness slowly enveloped the entire shelter pod.
It watched humanity rushing about frantically, plugging ventilation shafts, sealing routing troughs, and putting out fires everywhere. It watched the numbers on the material tables continuously dropping, and watched arguments, panic, and numbness breed in turn among the crowd. It had witnessed countless sieges and knew clearly that once hope was gradually exhausted, order would be the first to collapse. It did not urge its kin to accelerate their assault. The essence of a siege was never a quick kill, but waiting for the inside to collapse on its own.
Two more days slipped by.
The rationing standards for food and drinking water were reduced again. Children cried softly from hunger, only allowed to take a tiny sip of the saved water. The painkillers for the severely wounded were completely exhausted; they could only bite down on cloth strips to endure the excruciating pain, with suppressed groans of pain occasionally heard at night. To save electricity, the main lights in most areas of the cabin were turned off, leaving only a few low-brightness emergency lights. The dim yellow light stretched everyone's shadows thin and long.
The emotion of suspicion began to spread openly.
Some people whispered in private that the radio had not received any replies, and reinforcements would never come. Others felt that the combat personnel guarding the gate were hoarding more supplies. Still others quietly muttered that it would be better to open the pod door and surrender; perhaps the ancient beings would spare those willing to submit. These whispers circulated in the dim corners. When the military police heard them, they could only repeatedly persuade the people, not daring to deal with them harshly. Manpower was already critically short; once the conflicts escalated, the order of the entire shelter pod would collapse instantly.
Having maintained Sea of Consciousness detection for a long time, Lin Yan's temples throbbed continuously, and the bloodshot veins in his eyes grew heavier. While keeping an eye on the thermal signatures of the external beast herd, he continuously tracked the consciousness fluctuations of the five ancient beings underground. He could clearly perceive the supreme ruler's indifferent consciousness, like a shadow hanging over their heads, calmly examining every ripple of emotion inside the iron box.
"There is a new deployment of the beast herd." Lin Yan's finger suddenly paused, his gaze locking onto the edge of the screen. "The three third-tier scaled beasts have left the encirclement and are moving toward the rear along the outside of the mountain. They are not retreating; they are flanking toward the direction of the shelter pod's backup escape exit. That area has the weakest defense, with only a single layer of simple blast-proof doors and no heavy guard."
Scholar Su's expression turned stern. "The backup exit! All our attention has been focused on the main gate, ventilation, and routing troughs. We almost forgot about that place!"
The backup escape hatch was built solely for evacuation in extreme situations. The passage was narrow, and there was no open buffer zone on the outside. Now that it had been found by the scaled beasts, it meant another fatal hidden danger.
"Divert eight people, take the remaining three sets of explosives, and immediately rush to set up defenses on the inside of the backup exit," Scholar Su ordered quickly. "Keep it quiet; do not cause widespread panic among the crowd."
Eight soldiers silently picked up their weapons and took a detour through the secluded inner passage toward the rear.
Not long after they left, the first dull ramming sound came from the direction of the backup exit on the outside of the shelter pod.
Thud.
A single, clear sound, transmitted into the cabin through the rock layer.
After that one ram, the outside fell into dead silence again.
It was a probe.
The Beast Commander was confirming the sturdiness of that door. Under the dim emergency lights, everyone in the cabin inexplicably felt their hearts tighten. In front of them was the ever-lurking beast tide; beneath their feet were the omnipresent spores; and behind them, the backup exit had been targeted.
This iron box was starting to leak wind from all four sides. In the darkness, the noose was still slowly tightening.
End of Chapter.
The chilling, fishy stench of spores in the air grew thicker. It was no longer just a jumping red alert on the instruments; it was a tangible presence that drilled into their nasal passages and clung to their throats. The leading soldier raised his hand to signal for silence. Everyone slowed their pace, holding their short blades in front of them, their eyes fixed tightly on the seams of the cable routing troughs ahead.
The squad that arrived first at the southwest point stopped.
The flashlight beams tilted downward, illuminating the cracks in the routing trough. A thin, grayish-black spore film was slowly creeping upward along the geological seams of the rock layer. Beneath the film, countless spore particles, nearly invisible to the naked eye, writhed slowly like living creatures, clinging and climbing up the outer walls of the cables. The Spiderweb Ancient Being had not detonated the spore clusters. Instead, it advanced using this slow infiltration method, making no sound. By the time anyone noticed, the toxins would have already covered the entire bottom of the cabin.
"This is it." The squad leader lowered his voice, signaling his team to unpack the explosives. "Keep your movements careful so you don't disturb the spore clusters. We will only set up charges at the main nodes. After detonation, the entire routing trough will be sealed."
The explosives were secured at the main junction of the trough, and the fuses were pulled back to a safe position along the passage. The other two squads also took their positions at the spore convergence points in the due south and southeast areas. The three sides confirmed their readiness in turn, and short confirmation codes sounded over the communication channel.
"Synchronized detonation."
Three muffled, weak explosions echoed from the bottom of the cabin one after another. They were not as violent as the previous ventilation pipeline explosion; the shockwaves were confined within the seams of the rock layer. The scorching neutralizing powder blasted through the routing troughs, burning the creeping spore film to ashes. The melted sealing filler顺势 (naturally) flowed to firmly seal the three main seams. On the instruments, the three soaring spore concentration curves suddenly plummeted.
"The sealing of the three routing troughs is complete, and the spore infiltration is temporarily blocked," Lin Yan reported to the command area immediately, staring at the refreshed data on the terminal screen. "But the Spiderweb Ancient Being hasn't given up on infiltrating. The spore signals have dispersed again, turning into countless extremely fine spore clusters that are spreading along the more fragmented micro-crevices in the rock layer. There are too many crevices; we can't block them all."
Scholar Su nodded solemnly, his expression grave.
The shelter pod was rooted in the mountain's rock layer. The micro-crevices left by millions of years of geological movement were as dense as a spider's web; it was impossible for human power to seal them all. The operation they had just carried out was merely cutting off the three largest channels, delaying the invasion of the poison tide. It was treating the symptoms, not the root cause.
"Order the maintenance squads to withdraw to the upper level immediately. Do not stay at the bottom level for too long," Scholar Su ordered. "The maintenance team must continuously monitor the spore concentration throughout the cabin. Once the value at any point exceeds the standard, immediately activate the internal emergency neutralizing spray. All personnel should try to stay away from the bottom-level maintenance hatches."
The squad members retraced their steps back through the low tunnel. Just as they climbed out of the maintenance hatch, a new round of ramming sounds erupted from the outer walls of the shelter pod. This time, it was no longer scattered probing. Multiple scaled beasts rammed from all directions simultaneously. The muffled thuds merged into a continuous roar, causing the entire alloy cabin to tremble constantly. The overhead pipelines swayed gently, and several old circuit connectors sparked with tiny electrical sparks. The cabin lights flickered several times in succession before plunging into brief dimness.
During the few seconds of darkness, the Illusion Ancient Being seized the opportunity to unleash its illusions with full force.
Suppressed screams erupted from the civilian area. Some saw the floor beneath their feet melting in the dark, with black spores surging from the seams to wrap around their ankles. Others heard the calls of their relatives from outside the cabin walls and rushed toward the pod door in a frenzy, ramming against it. In the wounded area, several already weak patients lost their grip on reality and struggled wildly in pain. The military doctors and nurses could only pounce on them to hold them down, repeatedly shouting wake-up code words. Military police officers ran back and forth with flashlights, the beams sweeping across faces filled with terror and blank stares. It took a great effort to stabilize the order once again.
When the lights came back on, many people were leaning against the walls, gasping for air, their clothes soaked with cold sweat.
Deep within the cavern, the consciousness of the five ancient beings resonated quietly.
The Spiderweb Ancient Being had long anticipated that humans would seal the main routing troughs. Dispersing the spores was merely its backup plan; it did not expect to engulf the entire shelter pod with spores in a short time. Its goal was to continuously create an omnipresent sense of crisis—to make the people inside realize that above, below, and in the seams of the walls, the enemy could drill in from any corner at any time, making it impossible for them to ever truly feel safe.
The Sharp-Sense Ancient Being still maintained a constant erosion of the Sea of Consciousness, neither strengthening nor weakening, acting like a chronic poison. Soaked in this continuous psychic sting for a long time, everyone's sleep was shattered. Exhaustion piled up layer by layer, reaction speeds slowed down day by day, and patience and restraint were gradually worn thin.
The Illusion Ancient Being continued to alternate between two types of illusions, randomly switching between gentle, peaceful visions and sudden, horrifying scenes without any pattern. One moment they were dreaming of sunlight and their homeland; the next second, a scaled beast would tear open the cabin wall and pounce right in front of them. This irregular pulling was the most effective at destroying a person's mental state.
The Beast Commander continued to dispatch the scaled beasts to take turns ramming the outer walls and probing various weak points. It had already figured out the physical limits of this shelter pod and knew it could not be breached in a short time. The significance of the ramming was no longer to break into the pod, but to apply psychological pressure. The rhythm of the ramming was sometimes dense, sometimes silent, deliberately disrupting the daily routines of everyone inside. Sometimes there would be complete silence for several hours. Just as people relaxed their guard a little and grew drowsy, the violent ramming sounds would suddenly explode.
The supreme ruler's consciousness slowly enveloped the entire shelter pod.
It watched humanity rushing about frantically, plugging ventilation shafts, sealing routing troughs, and putting out fires everywhere. It watched the numbers on the material tables continuously dropping, and watched arguments, panic, and numbness breed in turn among the crowd. It had witnessed countless sieges and knew clearly that once hope was gradually exhausted, order would be the first to collapse. It did not urge its kin to accelerate their assault. The essence of a siege was never a quick kill, but waiting for the inside to collapse on its own.
Two more days slipped by.
The rationing standards for food and drinking water were reduced again. Children cried softly from hunger, only allowed to take a tiny sip of the saved water. The painkillers for the severely wounded were completely exhausted; they could only bite down on cloth strips to endure the excruciating pain, with suppressed groans of pain occasionally heard at night. To save electricity, the main lights in most areas of the cabin were turned off, leaving only a few low-brightness emergency lights. The dim yellow light stretched everyone's shadows thin and long.
The emotion of suspicion began to spread openly.
Some people whispered in private that the radio had not received any replies, and reinforcements would never come. Others felt that the combat personnel guarding the gate were hoarding more supplies. Still others quietly muttered that it would be better to open the pod door and surrender; perhaps the ancient beings would spare those willing to submit. These whispers circulated in the dim corners. When the military police heard them, they could only repeatedly persuade the people, not daring to deal with them harshly. Manpower was already critically short; once the conflicts escalated, the order of the entire shelter pod would collapse instantly.
Having maintained Sea of Consciousness detection for a long time, Lin Yan's temples throbbed continuously, and the bloodshot veins in his eyes grew heavier. While keeping an eye on the thermal signatures of the external beast herd, he continuously tracked the consciousness fluctuations of the five ancient beings underground. He could clearly perceive the supreme ruler's indifferent consciousness, like a shadow hanging over their heads, calmly examining every ripple of emotion inside the iron box.
"There is a new deployment of the beast herd." Lin Yan's finger suddenly paused, his gaze locking onto the edge of the screen. "The three third-tier scaled beasts have left the encirclement and are moving toward the rear along the outside of the mountain. They are not retreating; they are flanking toward the direction of the shelter pod's backup escape exit. That area has the weakest defense, with only a single layer of simple blast-proof doors and no heavy guard."
Scholar Su's expression turned stern. "The backup exit! All our attention has been focused on the main gate, ventilation, and routing troughs. We almost forgot about that place!"
The backup escape hatch was built solely for evacuation in extreme situations. The passage was narrow, and there was no open buffer zone on the outside. Now that it had been found by the scaled beasts, it meant another fatal hidden danger.
"Divert eight people, take the remaining three sets of explosives, and immediately rush to set up defenses on the inside of the backup exit," Scholar Su ordered quickly. "Keep it quiet; do not cause widespread panic among the crowd."
Eight soldiers silently picked up their weapons and took a detour through the secluded inner passage toward the rear.
Not long after they left, the first dull ramming sound came from the direction of the backup exit on the outside of the shelter pod.
Thud.
A single, clear sound, transmitted into the cabin through the rock layer.
After that one ram, the outside fell into dead silence again.
It was a probe.
The Beast Commander was confirming the sturdiness of that door. Under the dim emergency lights, everyone in the cabin inexplicably felt their hearts tighten. In front of them was the ever-lurking beast tide; beneath their feet were the omnipresent spores; and behind them, the backup exit had been targeted.
This iron box was starting to leak wind from all four sides. In the darkness, the noose was still slowly tightening.
End of Chapter.