Chapter 132: Who is Fanning the Flames?

Within the "Dream," a place of deathly silence where intangible darkness constantly writhes, a faint sound of breathing suddenly emerged.

In such a still place, the sound of breath was deafening. Amidst the gloom, a figure stood, trembling incessantly. It was Colin. The moment he entered the "Nightmare," he had been subjected to a "higher-dimensional" strike that felt like an erasure, suppressing even the light within his own body. Perhaps due to "luck," while all his methods were instantly rendered useless, he did not die; he managed to survive.

Currently, Colin was continuously activating the light within him, like someone tensing their muscles against a bone-chilling cold, using it to gain the strength to resist the suppression of the "Night." Fortunately, whether because the time had not yet come or due to some other restriction, the "higher-dimensional strike" he experienced upon entry did not recur.

As he persisted, his sanity slowly returned. Colin could no longer tell how long he had been inside; time felt both like a fleeting instant and an eternity. It was clear, however, that Colin’s condition was dire. Under the immense pressure, his body hunched further, unable to stand tall, his head seemingly pinned down, refusing to lift. From time to time, popping sounds emanated from him—the sound of blood vessels bursting under the overwhelming pressure. Jets of blood sprayed from all over his body; some were blocked by his clothing, while others vanished into the surrounding darkness. As the pressure intensified, his bones cracked under the strain, forcing his back to bend even lower. The massive loss of blood was rapidly draining his strength.

The formless darkness writhed. A strange whisper told him that if he knelt now, chanted the honorific name of a certain high-ranking entity, and begged for forgiveness, he would be spared.

"To hell with your forgiveness!"

At that moment, Colin consumed a Recovery Card. His body was restored in an instant, only to be crushed again the next. Yet, in that brief window of recovery, he forced his head up a fraction and straightened his back slightly.

"Recovery Card *4"
"Recovery Card *3"
"Recovery Card *2"
"..."

Colin straightened his back bit by bit, lifting his head inch by inch. When the final Recovery Card was spent, he had managed to straighten his spine. He only needed to lift his head one last time to complete this "symbolic" act, which would allow him to unleash explosive power and sever the connection between the Night and reality.

However, just then, Colin felt a prickling sensation on his back—a deeper, more profound darkness descending from above. Lurking within that gloom was a supra-dimensional will beyond human comprehension, bringing with it a lethal sense of dread. It seemed that as the world descended further into ruin, this terrifying entity could finally exert more influence, infiltrating its power deeper into this realm.

Amorphous, gelatinous tentacles coiled around Colin’s body, tightening around his throat. He could feel them sliding against his skin. His limbs felt as if they were sinking into a swamp, unable to move, and a desperate sense of suffocation slowly enveloped him. This sensation soon turned into unbearable agony; his flesh was crushed and ruptured, spraying blood, his bones groaned and shattered, and his body twisted into grotesque shapes, like a tin can being crushed by a giant.

Once again, Colin felt his own insignificance and hopelessness; he felt intensely helpless. Despair, resentment, and weakness washed over his entire being. Colin knew that it would not be long before he became nothing more than "nutrients" in the dust of this dark land.

Just then, the space-time around him seemed to freeze and distort. Accompanied by a mocking laughter that echoed in his mind like a derision of all things, certain inexplicable shackles began to crumble, and a flood of information erupted within his consciousness.

"You are too weak. Give up. A little extra intelligence is not enough to lead them out of this predicament; it will only cause these weak, innocent lives to suffer even greater torment."

"Your abilities are not worth mentioning. You don't even have the qualifications to look directly at us, so how could you possibly lead these even weaker lives?"

"To us, you and they are no different from rats and dust."

"For you, this world is too desperate. Leave. Depart alone; no one will have any interest in you. They do not care about a rat fleeing in disgrace."

"As long as you show the appropriate attitude, you can be saved immediately and earn the right to linger on..."

"As for those things smaller than dust, we have no interest in them either, but they will eventually die from this small accident of coming into contact with us, returning to their dusty essence, much like the insects they inadvertently crush underfoot..."

"For these insects, death is the only true mercy and destination..."

"You do not have the capability to make the future you envision play out in this space-time. This is not your stage, and there is no place for you here."

"Leave. Do not concern yourself with those weak lives that will inevitably die in the darkness. Selfishness is the nature of all things..."

At this moment, Colin felt his spirit being torn into dozens of fragments, each one hearing the terrifying "whispers" from the unknown. They were not sounds in the conventional sense, but a different kind of information that could be understood in a flash. Every piece of information tore and shattered his remaining soul and energy through forced acceptance.

But for no reason, upon hearing these taunts, a pure, extreme rage surged within Colin’s mind. The fury spread, burning through every "soul fragment." The anger acted like a furnace, melting all the shattered pieces back together, allowing him to return to his true, singular self amidst the flames, purging all "impurities."

The shackles originating from his soul had been burnt away!

"Not everyone will die in the night!"

Colin opened his eyes again. The darkness remained, but he struggled with all his might, thrashing violently in the gloom. Blood sprayed from his skin as he tried to break free from the "soft" bonds constricting his body. His muscles pulled against shattered bones; some pierced his skin, some stabbed into his internal organs, and others were crushed internally. Even as he stood, he was forced lower and lower. The numbing pain plagued his body, but Colin had no energy to spare for it.

The unknown whispers appeared in his mind again.

"Everyone is already dead; there is only darkness outside. Your struggle is meaningless. Admit it, humanity has failed."

*Denial!*

"You struggle so desperately, yet there are still selfish people who waste vast resources. You might end up saving the person you despise most. Don't you think giving up now is the best choice..."

*Denial!*

"The things you try to save are full of ignorance, selfishness, and greed. They are not worth saving. Your actions are completely useless..."

"Seeing only the narrowness of human nature is your problem, not mine! I will always believe that human nature has its own light, enough to illuminate the darkness!"

As he struggled, an inconspicuous yellow metal coin slipped from Colin’s hand.

Bet everything on fate!

I call upon...

"All-in!"