The light went out.
Beneath this abyssal opening of eternal night, the sun had lost its original purpose.
The "virus" passed through the "cell's" defenses and entered its nutrient-filled interior. Several butterflies flapped their wings and descended from the dark-shrouded sky.
Several Spectrum Lifeforms in the eternal night looked up at the sky, seeming to notice something unusual there. But disorderly Entropy Worms could never be seen. After watching for a while, the Spectrum Lifeforms lowered their heads again and returned to their work.
The butterflies flew over them and headed farther away.
Something seemed to be surging within that dense darkness. Even in lightless regions, life still struggled tenaciously to survive, even creating flourishing civilizations. These were races that belonged entirely to darkness, life's answer to the Abyss's drastically altered environment.
A cancerous world was still a world. Life would cling to it and do everything possible to survive.
The lifeforms in the eternal night sensed the disturbance in the sky. It was an omen darkness had given them. The wind stirred by the butterflies' wings brushed through their tangled fur. They extended their claws, trying to seize those disorderly shadows, but the ripples passed through their bodies and spread over the wilderness.
The chaos caused by several butterflies would not change anything here. The night merely deepened, becoming as thick as ink. The butterflies' flight paths bled into a broad stroke of ink, writing an unreadable character across the eternal night.
Not even the butterflies themselves could understand those characters.
The characters danced in their minds, then broke apart into a complete mess.
The butterflies flew over the Dark Races and continued farther on. Their destination was not here, but the deepest part of eternal night—the rift leading to death.
As long as they died within that region,