Chapter 20: Whispers of the Outer Gods

This city was a lie.

That much was clear now.

I walked through the dimly lit streets, my boots barely making a sound against the cracked stone pavement. The torches flickered weakly, their light stretching the shadows unnaturally long, warping the shapes of buildings into jagged monsters.

The stench of burnt flesh clung to the air—mixed with damp wood, rot, and the sweat of too many desperate people packed into a dying city.

Beside me, Zhao Yue moved like a ghost, her sharp eyes scanning every alley, every shadow. Always in control. Always calculating. But even she couldn't fully hide it.

Fear.

Not of the infected. Not of the chaos outside the walls.

But of what we had discovered inside them.

Even Yusheng, the loudest, cockiest bastard I knew, was too quiet. His fingers twitched around his rifle, his usual smirk replaced with something hard, unreadable.

"The pieces don't fit," he muttered, eyes sweeping across the slums. "The city's food situation is bad, but not bad enough for them to be this desperate."

Zhao Yue exhaled. "You mean the sacrifices?"

I nodded. "And the powers."

We had uncovered the ranking system days ago.

E to A. D was the most common. A was the rarest. And those with higher ranks? They disappeared.

At first, I thought they had died in battle. Others whispered they had escaped—left us behind for something safer.

But the truth?

They were never meant to survive.

And tonight, we would confirm why.

The deeper we went, the quieter the city became.

No torches. No noise. Even the distant groans of the infected seemed to fade, as if they knew better than to come near this place.

Then, we saw it.

A building, half-swallowed by the ruins of the past. A jagged structure of stone and rusted metal, concealed beneath layers of time and decay.

The Shrine.

Yusheng let out a sharp breath. "I knew those bastards were hiding something, but this…?"

Zhao Yue pressed a hand against the weathered surface. "This wasn't built recently."

No. It was ancient. Older than the city.

And the symbols carved into the stone?

They weren't human-made.

I blinked. For a split second, they moved—twisting, shifting under the moonlight like living things. The longer I stared, the more wrong they felt, as if something behind them was watching me back.

Then, the shrine breathed.

The stone beneath my fingers shifted—not crumbling, not eroding. Moving.

I jerked my hand away, my pulse spiking.

The air thickened, pressing down on me. Heavy. Wrong.

Beside me, Zhao Yue tensed, her breathing too steady, too controlled.

But her fingers brushed against mine—brief, fleeting.

Not out of fear.

She was too strong for that.

But I could feel her heartbeat.

Fast. Uneasy.

Even Yusheng, the man who laughed in the face of death, was silent, gripping his rifle like a lifeline.

Then—

A sound.

Low. Rhythmic.

A chanting that scratched against the edges of my mind.

From the shadows—

They emerged.

The cultists stepped forward, their movements silent, unnatural.

Their robes were stitched from human skin. Their masks were carved from bone, etched with the same shifting symbols that bled into my mind if I looked too long.

But that wasn't the worst part.

In the center of the shrine—

A man knelt.

Bound in rusted chains, his body trembling. Wide, desperate eyes darted between the robed figures, his lips moving in silent, desperate prayers.

No one listened.

The High Priest raised his arms. The air shuddered.

"We give this offering, O Lords of the Abyss."

And then, I felt it.

A crack—not in the shrine. Not in the air.

In existence itself.

A tear in the world.

A place where nothing should be.

No light. No stars. No end.

The kneeling man let out a scream so raw, so filled with pure, mind-breaking terror, that it dug into my bones.

And then—

It reached out.

The Presence of an Outer God

Not a hand. Not a claw.

Something far worse.

It had no shape. No form.

It was every nightmare, given life.

Endless mouths whispered in languages no human tongue could speak. Eyes blinked where no eyes should be.

And when it touched the man—

He vanished.

No blood. No remains.

As if he had never existed at all.

The cultists knelt. Trembling. Worshipping.

And then—

It looked at me.

Ice filled my veins.

This wasn't some mindless horror.

It was aware.

And for a single, soul-shattering moment—

It spoke.

"You… are not meant to be."

A presence crashed down on me.

Thousands of voices screamed at once—visions of worlds consumed, gods devoured, entire civilizations reduced to nothing.

It saw me.

It acknowledged me.

And then—

It laughed.

A sound so wrong, so impossibly vast, that my mind fractured at the edges.

Then—

The abyss snapped shut.

The ritual was over.

But something had changed.

I staggered back, my breath coming too fast.

The shrine was silent.

But the whispers remained.

Still there. Still laughing.

I clenched my fists.

Never again.

Never again would I be weak.

Never again would I be powerless.

And as if responding to my resolve—

A voice echoed in my mind.

[System Notification]

You have gazed into the Abyss.

And the Abyss has gazed back.

New Title Acquired: Abyss-Touched (A-Rank)

Your soul has been marked by an Outer God.

Abyss-related entities will recognize your existence.

Some will fear you. Others will worship you.

Reality itself may… bend in your presence.

New Skill Acquired: Abyssal Authority (A-Rank)

You can exert a fraction of an Outer God's presence.

The weak-willed will experience hallucinations, terror, or insanity.

The strong will question if you are truly human.

??? (More effects to be unlocked.)

A cold power settled into my veins.

I exhaled.

The war had already begun.

And now?

Now, I had the power to fight back.