Eldritch Horror Theatre

The desire to survive was truly a wonderful thing.

Not only could it be coaxed out of the vast majority of individuals, but it was usually quite intense.

For a moment, Fu Qian felt deeply gratified by the enthusiasm the Proxy displayed.

"As you wish..."

Although the repeatedly schooled Proxy didn't say another word, his posture clearly conveyed that very sentiment.

Plunging a hand into his sliced-open chest, what he slowly gouged out this time was actually a miniature tree, one that looked as though a spine had taken root, flowered, and borne fruit.

The next moment, he plunged it straight down into the top of his own head.

Boom!

In that instant, Fu Qian felt as if he had turned into a candle, ignited right from the forehead.

The countdown entered the stopwatch phase almost instantly.

But Fu Qian was certain that Brother Proxy wasn't faring any better.

Because that faceless head was literally burning.

The manifestation of his most essential self was slowly withering into fragments, drifting into the Mist—illuminating the path.

The ripples truly grew clearer. The will merging into the Mist could finally sense a trace of that abstract trajectory, allowing him to trace it backward to its source.

"Do you feel it?"

After a bout of reckless, frantic tracing, the cold, lofty concept at the other end of the connection finally sharpened bit by bit, accompanied by the Nightmare Proxy's succinct prompt.

"Lock onto it. Sever it, at all costs."

"And don't even think about pulling any little tricks."

Sure enough, compared to the operational instructions, the security warning was far more detailed.

"Otherwise, even if you break free a step faster, I will make this curse infect you again immediately, just like you did—what are you doing?!"

Receiving no response, he cut short his own threat a moment later.

Because a completely incomprehensible change had occurred.

The one who had come seeking a way to lift the curse—despite facing an opportunity won at an extreme cost—showed absolutely no intention of answering the call.

On the contrary, he seemed to be tracking the source of that connection with all his might.

"You're truly insane—you want to use this to kill me?"

After offering yet another backhanded compliment, Brother Proxy seemed to realize something.

"Do you think an existence like mine will collapse before both our lives hit zero together?"

...

"You really are a raving idiot!"

...

"Aren't you overestimating yourself a bit too much?"

...

"Fine, then let me see if you're truly unafraid of death."

Each escalation into the silence represented the Proxy's boundless resolve and killing intent.

Unfortunately, even then, he received no further response.

...

Found it.

At a tremendous cost, the connection slowly but firmly grew clearer.

Finally, at a certain moment, Fu Qian felt as if he had truly touched the other side.

It did not feel like a dwelling in the mortal realm.

Backed against the Stars, in a boundless expanse of darkness, the Law Patterns he had seen far too many times were growing wildly like real blooming flowers, unfurling and spiraling into a massive vortex that stretched all the way to the horizon.

It even resonated with the Stars on the other end, linked together in an inconceivable way.

And between the swirls of the vortex, a faint white frost—burning just like a real flame—was soothing and nourishing it all.

The "blood" being frantically siphoned out of him was converging precisely there.

Of course, there would soon be nothing left to siphon. His currently intensified state of blood loss was no longer just draining his vitality, but his very concept of self.

It was like an ice cream that had already reached the cone-eating stage.

"You... lunatic..."

At the same time, the Proxy's endless resentment had already gathered into an ocean.

As a Nightmare Supreme, just beneath the Gods, being forcibly burned as radar fuel was something anyone would find hard to swallow.

It was a painfully grim dead end. Even if they cooperated to sever the connection, this situation would never end peacefully.

Fortunately, he hadn't planned on severing it anyway.

And naturally, he had no interest in using the opportunity to kill him, as the Proxy feared.

Fu Qian rapidly cycled through numerous killing techniques to choose a suitable method for ending his own life. At the same time, he casually gouged out one of his eyeballs and tried tossing it along the connection—acting as if he were afraid the ice cream cone wasn't being eaten fast enough.

[Task complete. Containment of Designation 1-119 successful.]

However, right at that moment, a slightly unexpected prompt suddenly appeared.

His previously muddled sense of self cleared up in tandem.

Turning his head, the last thing Fu Qian saw was that black fluid body—still maintaining its posture of staring his way—gradually exploding into a muddy torrent from head to toe.

In an instant, all sorts of bizarre creations spilled all over the ground, like a ruptured bag of wet garbage.

Its self-awareness had completely dissolved, even before its "blood" had been drained dry.

"After all, you're merely a Proxy."

The sight prompted a brief sigh of emotion from Fu Qian.

As everyone knew, during extreme losses, the fund managers who normally called the shots were always the first to suffer a backlash from the capital.

That was why one shouldn't run their mouth carelessly. It seemed a casual remark proved prophetic for this one, as he truly ended up losing in this challenge of who was less afraid of death.

Furthermore, it seemed the Sacred Relics of the Fallen Star Clan were about to increase in number again.

"Good work, and thank you for your efforts. You take top credit for this project—Nameless."

Accompanied by this solemn eulogy, the scene before his eyes shifted, and the crossroads reappeared.

And his bare feet, just like when he finished the last mission, completed that final step.

Only this time, his steps were noticeably heavier, to the point where his whole body swayed unsteadily.

...

[Mission Evaluation: Fallen Hand of the Dark Branch]

[As the shadow of reality, a Nightmare dominated by numerous powers was created, nurtured, and strengthened as a channel to breach the protection of the Law.

Yet when more and more people fell into it—even the devout believers of the Law were not spared—it ultimately failed to serve its purpose, and only witnessed the fall of Laerdin.

The ignorant victims, conversely, managed to preserve their complete wills because of that very ignorance.

This Dark Branch, brimming with malice, became an alternative sanctuary for them to hide in.

Unlike those who were right, who were ravaged by the endless apocalypse.

Today, although the source of the malice has long since departed, the remnants of power gathered over a vast span of time gave birth to a consciousness known as the Proxy.

As the sole existence within the Nightmare who knew the truth, it maintained the stability of this realm and the inverted perceptions of everyone within it, waiting for the day the Law would reappear.

The tearing this incomprehensible change inflicted upon the Nightmare itself was far beyond what it could resist.

Yet it still used every possible means to resist, because to it, that meant corruption and annihilation.

This action could not change the result, but it could increase the distortion and agony.

Until a hand of unparalleled corruption—from its perspective—forcibly tore everything apart, allowing the Dark Branch and reality to connect unhindered.

Countless souls will wake up in their own ways. Tomorrow will be a new day.

Though there might not necessarily be many more tomorrows.]

[Kills: None]

[Reward: SAN Value +20]

[Special Reward: Bronze Fishbone Hook]

[Current SAN Value: 84. Current inspiration: 99]

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