Eternal Prison

A mysterious golden cross hovered above the earth. Here, everything of human civilization seemed to have vanished, leaving behind only a city silent to a terrifying degree.

The streets that had once bustled with noise were now utterly silent. This glittering metropolis seemed shrouded in shadow, transformed into a lifeless, chilling city. People retained the expressions they had worn in their final moments, like exquisitely lifelike statues. Death itself seemed merciful when it harvested their lives; there was not a single wound on their bodies. Nor did any electronic device in the city emit light or sound.

What would the world become if every human being suddenly died?

—This was it.

They had died the instant the Honkai erupted. Unlike more common deaths, they had suffered no visible damage; their bodies remained intact, aside from the unlucky ones who had been driving vehicles. In short, the people of this city had died because they had collectively stopped thinking—not from some form of mental attack, but from a physical one.

Human thought arose from the transmission of information between neurons in the brain, and the conduction of electrical signals was a crucial part of that process. One of the Tenth Law-Ruler's abilities was to make the bioelectric voltage of ordinary people vanish within the barrier she created. Compared to those who had previously died in Honkai disasters, these people had been fortunate. Their neural action potentials had been suppressed, leaving them no time to think, much less feel pain.

The Twelfth Law-Ruler possessed an ability that stood above all of human civilization. She knew exactly what her power could do, and she knew why she possessed it. As long as this power remained, she would be a destroyer comparable to the Herrscher of the End.

Unlike the other Law-Rulers, the Twelfth Law-Ruler bore no deep hatred. She was ordinary, no different from the countless people who had appeared on Earth. Like a train arriving and departing on schedule, she went to and from work at the appointed times. Whether she did her job well or poorly did not matter. If she did badly, she would be criticized; if she did well, she would receive only verbal praise. She had grown accustomed to it all.

She often wondered: what was the difference between an ordinary person and a prisoner?

Like a prisoner, she had to endure the precision bombardment of advertisements. Like a prisoner, she had to endure her superior's endless nagging. Morality and law formed invisible shackles, while the pressures of life imposed tangible chains.

The only difference between her and a prisoner was that the prison of life was far larger than a prisoner's cell.

There was only one kind of heroism in the world: to recognize the truth of life and still love it. Yet even loving life would not stop it from stabbing you in the back.

"Then there was nothing worth loving about life." She had told herself that countless times. In many people's hearts, perhaps these words had already become a curse: telling them that life consisted of endless hardship, pain, and mundanity; hypnotizing them into learning to accept suffering; mocking their resistance as futile struggle.

Like anyone else, she desperately yearned for freedom, even if it was only a little. She wanted to break free from her shackles and chains, lie upon green grass and gaze at the stars, fish beneath the shade of a lakeside tree, and race through the city at midnight.

But she was merely a cog in society. No one would listen to her mutterings. Even after becoming a Law-Ruler, she could change nothing. She had merely gone from being a production machine to a destruction machine.

At that moment, the voice of some mysterious existence echoed in her mind, urging her to destroy everything within her sight.

"Understood," she answered emotionlessly, just as she had when she was still human.

The radar station near the base was the first to send out the signal: "The Eleventh Honkai eruption has begun." Not a single person in the city where the Honkai had erupted reported the situation to their superiors. The satellites drifting through the sky found only silence within the city—no Honkai Beasts, no zombies. Terrifyingly silent.

So it really was like this. Dr. Mei could not help recalling what had been said about the Eleventh Law-Ruler: if ordinary soldiers entered her barrier, the bioelectric voltage in their bodies would vanish and they would quickly die. Any weapon using an electronic system would be unable to function inside the barrier.

Dr. Mei said to her adjutant, "Connect me to every Fusion Warrior."

Judging from the current situation, one of the Eleventh Law-Ruler's abilities was already obvious. Within her barrier, the only ones capable of putting up even slight resistance were Fusion Warriors. Moreover, to prevent Fusion Warriors from being wasted in Honkai eruptions at unknown locations, Dr. Mei had canceled all their routine duties one or two months before the eruption and scattered them among various unknown underground shelters.

At the same time, considering the possibility that Fusion Warriors might become Law-Rulers, none of them knew where they were or where the others were. Even while carrying out missions ordered by Dr. Mei, they were forbidden from contacting other Fusion Warriors without Dr. Mei's instructions.

The only way they could obtain information from the outside world was through the communication terminal in each shelter. Moreover, those terminals could only receive signals passively. Even if a Honkai eruption occurred, they would know nothing.

"Ling, you have to stay safe..." Sakura, a Fusion Warrior, sat beside the bed. The tips of her cherry-blossom-colored hair touched the bedspread, while loneliness filled her face. She tightly gripped the pendant against her chest. The delicate device projected a photograph of her and her younger sister, Ling. Her twitching pink fox ears showed that her heart was unsettled.

"All Fusion Warriors, proceed immediately to the nearest city and assist the military forces evacuating civilians. The Eleventh Honkai eruption has begun."

Dr. Mei's image appeared on the screens in every hidden shelter, her voice calm and composed.

Sakura listened closely to the voice coming from the screen. Dr. Mei's order this time was highly unusual. Rather than commanding them to fight the Law-Ruler, she had ordered them to evacuate civilians. Sakura did not know what Dr. Mei intended. Such work was usually handled by ordinary military units, not precious Fusion Warriors.

"A Honkai eruption..."

"Only evacuating civilians?" Sakura silently pondered. Perhaps Dr. Mei has her own reasons.

A wistful smile flashed across her face. She gently hung the pendant around her neck, but her feet did not move for a long while. Perhaps she still wanted to linger a little longer, immersed in the happiness of the past.

But Sakura seemed to think of something. She then picked up Cold Prison Ice Sky from beside the bed, passed through countless dark corridors, opened the shelter's door, and walked outside without the slightest trace of reluctance.

No soldier was unafraid of death. Even the bravest warrior would not dare claim to have conquered that fear. Only when their fear of what they protected being destroyed surpassed their own fear of death did soldiers appear fearless.