Azathoth could no longer remember how long he had been on this strange planet abandoned by humans.
This was a desolate, remote, deserted land, uninhabitable, and even unsuitable for any unsuspecting life. He slowly opened his eyes in the cold darkness, habitually twisting his head to stretch his nonexistent muscles. He exhaled a stream of bubbles into the empty waters, and expertly waved his massive, pitch-black tentacles, patterned with intricate and ominous patterns, toward the surface.
Yes, you are not mistaken, humans who may be drinking fat otaku’s happy water in some distant galaxy.
Those are tentacles. No one knows how this all happened, but by now, Azathoth has grown accustomed to his appearance, which is too evil and terrifying for human tastes. He amuses himself daily by taking selfies in the water, admiring his divinely chosen appearance, which even level 10 beauty filters can't save.
Considering himself a contrarian in an age where appearances matter, and since there were no living creatures around him who would be frightened to the point of losing their rationality, Azathoth's range of activity was vast. He emerged from the water, stretching his body in the relatively warm starlight. Looking around, he realized that his only 'companion' with whom he could communicate had not appeared on the ice to greet him as usual.
what happened?
Vaguely sensing something unexpected was about to happen, Azathoth mustered his strength, enduring the hunger that was transmitted not only from his stomach but also from his spirit, and walked onto the ice layer at the pole of the planet. If the artificial satellites in orbit were still functioning normally at this time, they would be able to capture this rare scene:
A black shadow visible to the naked eye appeared over the Antarctic, which should have been pure white, and was moving at an extremely fast speed towards the land in the Southern Hemisphere that was closest to the sea and ice.
“Crash—”
Azathoth suddenly emerged from the sea, his movement and sheer size causing a localized high tide. A human city, built of steel and iron, appeared before him, still covered in the accumulated snow of countless years. From the ocean side, all that could be seen were towering skyscrapers, punctuated by broken bridges, and half-faded advertising banners that fluttered in the wind.
He stopped to admire the grandeur and beauty of the remaining human civilization, then continued to move towards the city. Not long after, he heard a roar from the front, which was obviously the explosion of weapons. It was particularly obvious in the environment where even the sound of the wind seemed loud.
Azathoth's wet tentacles, which had been happily wriggling across the snow, suddenly stopped. A clear expression of hesitation appeared on his face, which was far from human.
**
If Igor Sullivan could talk to God in person like those missionaries, he would definitely be uttering blasphemous curses now.
The prosthetic limb on Igor's left leg got caught on some part when he was struggling to climb out of the completely destroyed mecha. Now it is not only inflexible, but also aches slightly at the connection with the body.
As for his right leg, which should have been intact, it was unfortunately grazed by a steel bar that fell from the roof during the chase with a group of mentally retarded bionic bodyguards. Now it was a bloody mess that was horrible to look at - but there were no broken bones.
To make matters worse, he was now buried in the gap between the fallen concrete and the ground and could not move. Outside, there was an army of bionic men with infrared scanning capabilities. The only lethal weapons in their hands were a laser gun that was always available in the mecha and a sharp saber that was only fourteen centimeters long.
While the former could easily burn through the outer shells and metal components of a bionic human, it was already on the verge of being scrapped due to excessive use during the escape. The latter's stabbing power was extremely lethal, and engaging in a group fight with a group of bionic humans who had no sense of pain and only rudimentary intelligence was either a fool's errand or a suicidal act.
Igor's survival instinct and the self-esteem he had cultivated over the years made him unwilling to end his life in such a stupid way even when he was in a desperate situation.
The young man with gray hair and red eyes took a deep breath, raised his hand that was pressing on the wound on his right leg to stop the bleeding as if giving up, endured the pain, and raised the corner of his mouth to reveal a mocking smile.
How embarrassing... the former 'Marshal'.
This title, once a symbol of honor and status, now became nothing more than an irony. Ever since he was placed on a universe-wide wanted list for treason, and his friend and supporter, the Supreme Ruler of the Federation, remained silent, Igor had abandoned the rights and obligations of a general defending his country on the battlefield and prepared to become an enemy of the world.
The only thing he didn't expect was that the sudden appearance of a wormhole helped him escape from the federal pursuers, but also threw him onto this desolate planet... and he was surrounded by a group of bionic people whose research and development had long been strictly prohibited by federal law.
Igor remembered an oriental proverb after a long time: If the King of Hell lets you die at three o'clock in the morning, he will not keep you alive until five o'clock.
Now was probably the moment of his death. Not on the battlefield, not at the hands of the Zerg, not even on a trumped-up charge, but hacked to death on a desolate planet by the relics of his ancestors.
If this incident had not happened to Igor himself, he might have found it somewhat funny.
Now the only thing he could control was how to leave the world with dignity.
Igor subconsciously tightened the saber in his hand.
**
Azathoth hesitated a bit. He was hiding in the shadows of a tall building, quietly looking at the gray-haired young man.
Logically speaking, since it was the first time he saw a human being in such a long time, he should at least feel a burst of excitement. At the very least, he should rush over to rescue the person and find out what happened.
But when the time came, he suddenly realized that he was not really looking forward to communicating with strangers. Even when he saw the other person in desperate situation and about to die in front of him, he still felt no emotion.
Before this, Azathoth was unaware of the change in his personality. His body no longer needed food to provide nutrients and could move freely. In addition, he did not need to breathe oxygen, did not need long periods of sleep and rest, and had no real sense of the passage of time.
The reason why this planet is not suitable for living things is that it is shrouded in complex cosmic rays, the oxygen content is lower than human needs, and the surface temperature is below minus 20 degrees Celsius all year round, and mineral resources are extremely scarce.
But Azathoth lived alone on this desolate planet. Not only did he not feel any pain, but he was happy instead.
The only thing that troubled him was the incessant, insatiable hunger that had plagued him since he woke up.
After the long-awaited sudden visit from a stranger, the human memories in Azathoth's mind suddenly came alive.
Simultaneously, his burning hunger intensified. This feeling, like someone who hadn't eaten for seven days and seven nights, made Azathoth restless, filled with a strange desire for the intruder. So even though he realized he didn't really want to meet this human, he remained where he was and didn't move.
It's like a pervert observing from the dark.
After realizing his inexplicably contradictory instinctive behavior—the key point was that the human was really about to die, and he looked like he would stab his heart with the knife in his hand at any time—Azathoth, although filled with reluctance to have to talk to a stranger face to face, still decided to save the other person.
There is another thing. In order not to scare the fragile humans to death, he has to change into an approachable image that suits the other party's aesthetic taste.
A moment later, a young man with black hair and black eyes, wearing a black cloak and a hood, appeared on the roof of the tallest building in the complex.
**
When a tattered bionic man with exposed muscles lifted the concrete block from Igor's body, bent down and lowered his head sideways towards his position, looking at him with empty eyes without blinking, the terrifying feeling and the conditioned reflex developed over a long period of time on the battlefield made him swing his sword in an instant.
The metal blade sliced through the android's battered skin, and the ultra-high-pressure air burst from the air tank within the handle ripped a hole directly into the android's chest. The robot fell silently to the ground, but in an instant, countless of its companions turned their heads, their eyes wide open like human eyes, and pounced towards Igor like hungry wolves.
The concrete block supported by the fallen bionic man could not bear the weight and was about to crash down towards Igor.
The gray-haired young man was unable to distract himself at this moment and pay attention to the enemies around him. He could only hold his breath and wait for the severe pain to come, whether he lived or died.
A pitch-black vine suddenly came down from above and rolled up the heavy object in front of it.
Then, more and more black vines emerged from the shadows on all sides, lifting the stone weighing more than ten tons and flipping it to the other side. The snow dust filled the air, and the sunlight once again illuminated Igor's vision. He then realized that those were not plant branches—but the tentacles of some creature.
Just looking at them lying lazily on the pale ground, between the wasteland and the city, makes people feel terrified, dizzy and nauseous.
Igor, who had once achieved great success in killing people on the battlefield, actually felt a clear and inexplicable fear at this moment.
He raised his head and looked upwards along the tangled and twisted tentacles.
I saw a hundred-story building submerged, as if covered in black water.
——And the manipulator standing on the roof, wearing a black crow-feather cloak and a hood on his head, with an obscure face.
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