Digital networks stretched across the deep blue ocean, countless characters, codes, and compiled programs forming everything within it.
Leaping characters were like fish, swimming through the deep sea.
There were no armored ships or heavy cannons here, no explosive fire capable of melting through everything—only cold, numb numbers.
Blue ripples replaced every color. Before that wall, everything merged into it, becoming chaotic characters.
"Iron Tomb" sought to silence everything.
Mist gradually rose over the ocean as a data iron curtain rolled up black towering waves, carrying hoarse roars.
Beneath that black tide, countless streams of data connected heaven and earth, rising and falling like pounding drumbeats as they played a chaotic electronic symphony.
Cold data extended tangible fangs and began to spit venom, attempting to corrode the nerves of the network.
But just as the black tide covered heaven and earth,
White Fox invaded that black tide.
He was like a fish holding a rod, carrying an oil lamp that seemed ready to go out at any moment through the drifting mist.
Inside the lamp, sparks struggled to flicker, as though every leap was their final dance.
Until the black tide swept down in a torrential data storm from the black dome overhead.
White Fox raised the oil lamp. Its mute flame ignited amid the fog, swaying in mournful beauty and chanting as it drifted. The sky reflected the crimson glow of blazing fire.
The fog grew denser. Steaming vapor seeped through heaven and earth in this digital world, filling their lungs with a humid, stifling air. Their first clash had begun.
Within the Dark Domain.
White Fox was like a pianist aboard a cruise ship, drifting across the sea with the vessel as a violent storm suddenly broke.
Cold, coarse raindrops struck the steel-forged cruise ship, while Bai Heng's