Infinity: Kill your way through the movie world.

But they didn't know that the shadow was approaching.

Deep in Hell, Lucifer sat on a giant chair forged from the skulls of demons, tapping the armrests with his fingertips. With each tap, a wailing head exploded, and he casually inhaled the fragments of its soul.

Beneath the throne, Crowley lay prostrate on the ground, his soul so weak it was almost transparent.

“So,” Lucifer began, his voice languid, “Wu Heng dealt with Eve, and you crawled back like a lame dog, losing the coordinates of Purgatory.”

“Yes, yes, my king.” Crowley trembled, his head bowed, concealing his gaze.

Lucifer fell silent; only the muffled rumble of churning lava filled the hall.

“Crowley,” he suddenly asked, “what do you think is the most ridiculous thing about humanity?”

Crowley dared not answer.

“They always think they can control the situation.” Lucifer asked himself, then stood up. The shadows filled the hall with his movement, and countless burning eyes opened within the shadows.

“Eve wants to keep them captive, Heaven wants to use them as pawns, and even the Witcher Guild Master named Lor Morrick thinks he can keep the war under control within the ‘plan’.”

He walked to the edge of the main hall and looked at the blood-stained window.

The view outside the window wasn't of hell, but a distorted projection of the real world. He could see the lights of the Witcher Guild and those tiny yet stubborn figures.

“Dean Winchester has rejected Michael again.” Lucifer seemed to be talking to himself. “Sam Winchester is resisting my call. Humanity’s resistance is becoming more and more organized and effective.”

He turned around, a cold excitement flashing in his eyes.

"The balance is being disrupted, not towards heaven, nor towards hell, but towards those worms themselves. This won't do."

Crowley looked up, his pupils constricting, but feigned confusion, saying, "My King, do you mean..."

“It means you’re tired of the game,” Lucifer interrupted him. “The rules set by God, the observation of Heaven, and the temptation of Hell are too slow. I want to try a different way of playing.”

He raised his hands slowly and solemnly, like a musician preparing to play the final movement.

“Since they think they can rebel,” Lucifer’s voice held a cruel satisfaction, “then I’ll show them what true rebellion means.”

He ripped it open with both hands to the sides.

Sedgwick County, Kansas, 3:27 a.m.

Old farmer Edgar Hall was awakened by a sound like a thousand hides being torn apart at once, or like the wail of a dying beast coming from the depths of the earth.

He put on his coat, picked up his hunting rifle, and pushed open the wooden door of the farmhouse.

Then he froze on the spot.

The sky cracked open.

Three hundred meters above his farm, the night was torn open with a huge gash, the edges of which rolled up, and a dark substance, as thick as tar and smelling of sulfur, flowed down.

Inside the rift was a churning, dark red chaos, within which countless hideous shadows struggled.

Edgar's shotgun fell to the ground, and he opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound.

The first demon was 'spit out'.

It rolled and howled as it crashed heavily into the parched cornfield, kicking up dust. It was humanoid in appearance, with dark red skin, curved horns on its head, and tattered fleshy wings.

It got up, its yellow eyes locking onto Edgar in front of the farmhouse and the terrified old woman behind the window.

It opened its mouth, and saliva dripped down.

Edgar wanted to run, but his legs felt like lead.

The second one, the third one, the tenth one, the hundredth one
They poured forth like a flood from a breached dam, pouring from the grotesque wound in the sky. Powerful demons wielded burning giant axes, while emaciated hellhounds ran wildly on all fours, and enormous, corrosive worms flowed from the fissure, plowing deep furrows into the fields.

They come in many varieties and shapes, but they share one thing in common: a piercing malice and a foul sulfurous stench.

Instead of scattering, they began to assemble and line up.

With low-level cannon fodder in front, mid-level demons in the middle, and high-level demons bringing up the rear, a hellish army silently took shape in the farmlands of Kansas.

Edgar finally found his voice: "Mary...lock...lock the door!!!"

But it was too late. A pack of hounds pounced on the farmhouse, shattering the windows and abruptly silencing the wife's screams.

The last thing Edgar saw was the first demon to land walking towards him, its claws raised, reflecting the dark red light of the rift in hell.

"A massive spatial tear has occurred over Sedgwick County, with energy readings off the charts and a huge amount of anomalous magnetic field detected!"

At the Witcher Guild command center, alarms blared, and all screens switched to satellite footage and frontline video.

Bobby stared at the enormous wound stretching across the night sky on the main screen, and the black tide surging out below, his face ashen.

“Estimated number,” the monitor said, his voice trembling, “more than 500 units are gushing out every minute, and it’s accelerating. The total number is impossible to estimate.”

"Lucifer has brought out his entire fortune?" Dean gripped the Demon Hunter Blade, his knuckles turning white.

“He’s launching a preemptive attack.” Sam quickly analyzed the data. “It’s not a probe, it’s a full-scale assault. He wants to take advantage of the fact that we’ve just dealt with Eve and haven’t had time to rest, and overwhelm us with sheer numbers. This doesn’t comply with the rules of Apocalypse.”

Urgent reports came in from various locations via the communication channel:

"Wichita branch attacked; over two thousand demons, with coordinated tactics!"

"The Kansas City defenses have been breached! They're releasing black mist that will cause skin ulceration and mental derangement in anyone who comes into contact with it!"

"It's a mutated demon virus!" Bobby roared. "Activate the purification protocol! Everyone get vaccinated with the improved vaccine, quick!"

The order was given.

Medical personnel at each outpost rushed into the warehouse and carried out boxes of light blue vaccines.

The witchers lined up for the injection; the needle pierced their veins, bringing a brief cooling sensation. Those who had already developed symptoms experienced a halt to the festering, and their frenzied gazes returned to clarity.

But vaccines can only fight off the virus, not stop the culprits.

"What's Heaven's reaction?!" Dean kept calling out to Castio.

After a few seconds of silence, an unfamiliar angel appeared; it was not Castio.

He said apologetically, "Cass is in a meeting, and Raphael has banned large-scale intervention, saying it's a necessary balancing act."

"We only have a few members in our camp who were able to break the ban and come here. I'm sorry."

"Fuck these bastards!" Dean slammed his fist on the control panel.

“We never expected heaven; this situation was foreseeable,” Wu Heng’s voice came.

He found himself standing deep within the command center, calmly watching the hellish scene on the screen: "Raphael wants to use someone else to do his dirty work. No matter which side suffers the loss, Heaven will benefit."

“Then what do we do?” Bobby turned his head, his eyes bloodshot. “There are too many demons; we can’t defend all the places.”

“We don’t need to guard every place.” Wu Heng walked to the holographic map and circled central Kansas with his finger.

"Contract the defenses, abandon the outer strongholds, gather all forces at the guild headquarters, and notify all allies you can contact, civilian demon hunters, and anyone willing to help to come here."

"Give up the outer perimeter?" Dean exclaimed, "What about those ordinary people?" (End of Chapter)