Simultaneous traversal: All Abyss difficulty.

Chapter 764 Snap Time and Zombie Marvel

The heavy sanctuary gate, engraved with mysterious runes, shattered inwards with a powerful stomp from Thanos!

Wood chips mixed with dust danced wildly in the dim indoor light.

Thanos's enormous body, exuding an overwhelming aura, slowly stepped into this tranquil domain that should have belonged to the Sorcerer Supreme.

However, the expected spatial magic fluctuations or defensive traps did not appear. Instead, the air was filled with a strange and abrupt, elegant and lingering aroma of tea.

The cosmic overlord subconsciously glanced around, his majestic gaze sweeping over the bookshelves decorated with ancient magical artifacts from Earth and the fireplace burning with arcane fire.

Then, his gaze froze on the center of the hall.

A figure was now lying on the huge, classic crystal chandelier.

It's Stephen Fang.

He regained his "human appearance" and was no longer the pale-skinned ghoul monster with hideous kagune on his back.

Nowadays, he wears his signature slightly worn clothes and even holds a steaming cup of tea in his hand.

"Grumpy"

Stephen Fang's Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped down a large mouthful of scalding hot tea, which made him wince, but he didn't seem to care, as if he were recovering some kind of strength.

He looked down at Thanos, who stood like a mountain below, a weary smile playing on his lips. His voice was hoarse, yet it pierced the deathly silence.

“To be honest,” he said, swirling the teacup in his hand, “your theory about wiping out half of all life in the universe actually sounds quite plausible to me.”

Thanos's massive body remained motionless, showing no emotion whatsoever.

He knew that this madman in front of him couldn't possibly be there just to express his agreement.

Sure enough, Stephen Fang smacked his lips, as if savoring the bitterness of the tea, or perhaps chewing on his own thoughts.

His gaze swept over the five Infinity Stones on Thanos's gauntlet, stones powerful enough to reshape reality. His tone suddenly turned cold, revealing a raw, almost naked survival logic of the strong.

“Resources are limited, and as for people,” he scoffed, his eyes filled with indifference and mockery toward the human reproductive instinct, “they’re like cockroaches, breeding aimlessly. If you ask them why they breed, hey, nine times out of ten they’ll tell you, ‘To complete our life mission!’”

"We don't know who assigned him the task."

"Born into the world, unable to afford to raise or educate them properly, they are simply thrown into society as a burden—this is the kind of population, this is the kind of social structure."

Stephen Fon paused, his gaze sharpening as if piercing through the walls of the sanctuary to see the world he despised.

"It's over, so be it."

As soon as the words were spoken, the air in the sanctuary seemed to freeze, and even the aroma of tea seemed to be frozen by an invisible pressure.

Thanos remained silent, but the oppressive feeling of impending doom suddenly intensified.

The more "agreeing" Stephen Fang spoke, the more vigilant Thanos became.

The figure on the chandelier slightly adjusted its posture, its bones making a soft cracking sound, its lingering animal instincts keeping it at the optimal point of exertion.

He met Thanos's gaze, which seemed to see right through him, and forced a cold smile before uttering that crucial, and most selfish, "But."

“But,” his voice lowered, carrying an undeniable resolve, “I can’t just stand by and watch you snap your fingers.”

Thanos's brow furrowed slightly.

Stephen Fang poured the last bit of tea into his mouth and casually tossed the delicate teacup, now bearing his fingerprints, off the chandelier.

The crisp cracking sound was particularly jarring in the silence.

He stared at the empty slot of the blue gem representing "space" on Thanos's gauntlet, and uttered, word by word, the most realistic and shameless reason:
"Because to put it bluntly, when you snap your fingers, who knows if that random annihilation might just happen to fall on my head, Stephen Fang?"

------

On the shattered television screen, Texas News was looping two doomsday news alerts.

The first point is the threat posed to Earth by mutants.

The second urgent announcement was a global alert for the rapid evacuation of Texas residents.

In the basement, dust danced wildly in the beams of light.

The original Ant-Man, Hank Pym, gripped the remote control tightly, his face filled with despair.

"Humanity. The progenitor of extinct mutants."

His chapped lips trembled as he uttered a few cold words.

In the corner, a thick dustproof cloth silently slid down.

That was the quantum tunnel prototype that he had sealed away himself.

“There’s no time, Janet.” A hint of obsessive resolve flashed in Hank’s eyes.

He abruptly ripped away the cobwebs from all the cables, his withered fingers typing a string of commands that violated all safety protocols onto the dusty control panel. The machine roared like a dying beast, and eerie blue quantum energy howled and twisted within the ring-shaped hatch.

Hank took a deep breath and stepped into the all-consuming vortex of light without hesitation.

"Wait for me. I'll definitely find you this time."

The quantum realm.

An eternal prison and graveyard.

This is no longer the magnificent microcosm described by Scott.

Space was solidified, viscous darkness, and the former "vortex of time" transformed into sharp, silent, roaring bolts of purplish-black lightning, tearing through the field of vision.

The floating "city" ruins in the distance no longer glowed; instead, they were covered with a layer of wriggling, unidentified bacterial carpet.

The biting "quantum chill" seeped into my bones, carrying the scent of decay.

Hank stumbled and staggered across a distorted plain of purple crystals that resembled a giant coral reef.

The aging body creaked under abnormal gravity.

Just as his will was on the verge of collapse, a figure appeared on the semi-transparent amber-colored energy fragment floating in front of him.

Janet Van Dyne, the original Wasp!
That familiar silhouette of the battle suit, that back view that haunted his dreams!
Hope surged through his heart like a shot of adrenaline! Hank, tears streaming down his face, rushed forward like a madman, his hoarse roar echoing in the deathly silence: "Janet! It's me! Hank! I've found you! Outside... everything outside is ruined! Apocalypse has come! He's going to destroy everything! We have to escape, to the bottom of the ocean, to outer space, to any corner of the universe, just the two of us!"

"We have to start over."

He poured out decades of loneliness, his guilt towards his daughter, and his despair for the world, staggering as he opened his arms, wanting only to embrace his beloved whom he had lost and found again—

Janet slowly turned around.

It wasn't the gentle smile I remembered.

Instead, it was a... bluish-gray zombie face!
Janet suddenly shoved herself right in front of Hank!

His skin was dry and cracked, revealing dark bone. His once bright eyes were now just cloudy whites covered with blood vessels, and his pupils had shrunk to tiny, eerie green dots!
His cracked mouth stretched to his ears, thick black saliva dripped down, mixed with eerie phosphorescence of quantum energy, and a non-human, hollow "gurgling" sound came from deep in his throat.

Scott's warning exploded in Hank's mind like a thunderclap!
Never enter the quantum world again!

"No—!" Hank was terrified and instinctively activated the Pym Particle Bracelet in an attempt to shrink and escape.

Too late!
The zombie wasp woman's claws were as fast as a ghost, ignoring the shrinking process, and grabbed Hank by the throat when he was halfway shrunk!

The immense force of decay slammed him hard onto the cold, crystalline ground. The face, reeking of death, was inches away; Hank could even see the glowing bits of flesh from some unknown creature lingering between her teeth.

"Jane!" The desperate cry was cut short by a chilling, excruciating pain!

The zombified fangs, like poisoned daggers, pierced Hank Pym's aging neck!

Scalding blood splattered onto the cold quantum ground, making a sizzling, corrosive sound, before being instantly absorbed by the darkness.

A cold, insane, and destructive quantum virus was violently injected into the wound!

Hank's screams stopped abruptly, and his body began to convulse violently.

A visible grayish hue spread rapidly from the wound on his neck, and his cloudy eyes were swallowed by bloodshot veins and an eerie green light.

Reason, memory, emotion—everything that belonged to "Hank Pym" crumbled under the impact of the quantum zombie virus.

The convulsions stopped after a few seconds.

On the ground, only two decaying "shells" remained.

The original Ant-Man stiffly got up, thick black blood still dripping from the wound on his neck, and making unintelligible "gurgling" sounds from his throat.

Beside him, the zombie Wasp Woman let out a satisfied growl, her murky green eyes greedily scanning the desolate area.

They no longer have goals, they no longer have feelings.

All that remained was eternal hunger and an instinctive longing for the breath of the "living."

They began to wander aimlessly, among the twisted crystal forests, on the floating fungal carpet ruins, and on the edge of the silent, roaring purple lightning, like two slow-moving, deathly radiant tumors.

The quantum realm, this forgotten cage, has become their hunting ground.

The deepest, most primal, and strongest obsessions in the subconscious are like a lighthouse in the darkness, faintly pointing in a certain direction—that connection to the "outside," to the breath of countless vibrant lives.

They are searching.

Searching for an exit from the quantum realm.

That's when that time comes.
That is what truly belongs to all mankind.
Nightmare!

(End of this chapter)