Eternal Night, the Curse of Time

"Yes. Since that day, every capable nation stations players in orbital stations as a backup," Lai Wenzhi confirmed. "We can't risk another total wipeout."

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "During 'Lunar Collision,' players realized within days it was an Annihilation-class event. But that earlier Apocalypse? Most didn't even know what they faced before they died."

"What kind of Apocalypse was it?" Ethan asked.

"When they entered, every player saw one thing—the sky was black. A world of endless night." Lai Wenzhi's fingers tapped the table. "At first, they celebrated. 'Just darkness? This is barely Plague-class!' Some boasted they could live there until old age."

"And they did."

Ethan's stomach dropped. "They... aged to death?"

"Correct." He nodded grimly. "Standard dungeons last one month. This one? Time stretched indefinitely. Unprecedented."

"The first month passed peacefully. No disasters. Just... no sun. Players lived well on stockpiled resources. Zero casualties. They laughed, drank, and pretended it was a vacation."

"Then came the second month. No reset. The smart ones panicked, hoarding supplies. But most shrugged it off. 'A minor extension. No big deal.'"

Lai Wenzhi's voice turned hollow. "Years blended. One. Five. Ten. Elderly players faced a choice: suicide with a Revival Token or risk permanent death when their bodies failed. Slowly, they vanished, paying a Token to escape eternity."

He paused. "After eighty years, one man remained: our Bureau's Seventh Director. He thought total extinction would merge that hell with reality. So he stayed."

"Humanity had developed cryo-stasis by then. He ordered everyone else to leave and let himself be frozen alone, betting his life that the Apocalypse would end before his body did."

Ethan's throat tightened. "Did he make it?"

"No." Lai Wenzhi's fist clenched. "He had twelve Revival Tokens. None worked. That Apocalypse wasn't a disaster; it was a time curse. No escape."

"But you said it already manifested." Ethan's pulse quickened. "Earth isn't trapped in eternal night!"

"Because—"

"Enough."

A woman's voice, young and sharp, cut through the room.

Ethan turned. A tall figure walked in, her heels clicking on the floor. Her beauty was almost unreal, but the authority she emitted was overwhelming.

Who is she—?

"Director!" Lai Wenzhi snapped to attention.

Director?! Ethan's eyes widened. She looks my age!

The woman acknowledged Lai Wenzhi with a nod before turning to Ethan. Her gaze pinned him to his seat. "Mr. Ethan is newly awakened. He isn't cleared for Defiled Prophecy intel."

Defiled Prophecy. So that's its name.

Lai Wenzhi quickly pulled up Ethan's file. As she scanned it, her manicured nail paused mid-screen.

"Your skill is SSS-grade Eyes of the Doomed, correct?"

"Yes." Ethan studied her. Up close, her flawless skin was striking. How is this real?

"Reports also mention an S-tier artifact—the Terminus Shard."

Ethan's jaw tightened. Did Chi Weize sell me out?

She read his expression immediately. "This isn't an interrogation, Mr. Ethan. We need to evaluate your survivability."

"Then evaluate this." Ethan tapped his wrist display. "[Revival Tokens: 0]. Your 'global priority asset' is one death from permanent deletion."

The Director's composed mask slipped, revealing genuine shock. Lai Wenzhi quietly whispered the explanation: Ethan's disastrous first run and his mother's accidental killing.

"...Problematic." Her polished demeanor returned, but tension creased her shoulders.

Ethan couldn't help himself. "Director... how old are you?"

Behind her, Lai Wenzhi's eyes bulged. He frantically shook his head.

Too late.

The Director's smile turned cold, colder than cryo-stasis. "Why ask, Mr. Ethan? Do you doubt my qualifications?"

Ethan blinked. "No. You just look twenty-two."

Her smile vanished. "I'm two years your senior. You will address me as Director Murong."