The Decaying Dream of America: I Assemble Corpses and Confront Madness

A deep hum spread through the night, vibrating the metal roof of the abandoned auto repair shop and bringing an ominous premonition. The air was thick with the smells of engine oil, dust, and death, and every tiny vibration seemed to foreshadow impending doom.

The next second, a dazzling burst of fire suddenly erupted in front of the modified all-terrain vehicle, the flames greedily licking the dark air and emitting a deafening roar. The violent shockwave, accompanied by the piercing groan of twisting steel, slammed into Lin Zheng, causing him to stumble and almost lose his balance.

Jeremy Woods reacted swiftly, his movements displaying a soldier's instinct and a seasoned brutality. He yanked Lin Zheng and Lina down, roughly slamming them onto the dusty concrete. They could feel the ground tremble, and tiny pebbles pierced their skin, causing a series of faint stings.

Sharp metal fragments, carrying the shockwave of the explosion, swept across the spot where they had just stood like a storm, crashing against the surrounding metal frames with crackling sounds and sparks flying everywhere.

Lin Zheng felt the intense heat on his cheeks, the residual heat from the explosion. All he could hear was a high-frequency buzzing and intense tinnitus. The whole world seemed to be filled with an invisible noise, and his senses were being stretched to the extreme.

He struggled to lift his eyes, his gaze piercing through the dust and smoke in the hazy air, and saw a black, streamlined drone hovering in mid-air, like a giant predator lurking in the darkness.

The red indicator light beneath the fuselage flashed coldly, like the bloodthirsty glint in a hunter's eyes; each flash seemed to pronounce their death sentence. The drone's sonic scanning, at a frequency imperceptible to the naked eye, was like an omnipresent ghost, relentlessly penetrating every corner of the repair shop, searching for the faintest trace of their existence.

It wasn't simple camera surveillance, nor was it infrared or thermal imaging—Lin Zheng sensed a deeper level of probing. His inner alarm bells rang, and he immediately guessed that this was the "Mental Retrospection Scan" newly developed by "American Dream" company. This was a chillingly advanced technology; it didn't capture physical forms, but rather could keenly capture and amplify faint traces of brainwaves, reconstructing a psychological projection of a target's activity in a certain area.

It can meticulously trace the trajectory of a target from fragments of consciousness remaining in space, even discerning their fleeting intentions. He had gleaned bits and pieces of information from the dusty data at Finch Labs: this technology was originally designed to find those "dream losers" who were lost in dreams and whose self-awareness was about to dissipate, to "reclaim" them in the name of "humanity." Ironically, however, it is now being ruthlessly used by the "American Dream" company against these "dream breakers" who are trying to awaken the truth, becoming the ultimate tool for eliminating dissidents. This means that the company not only wants to capture them, but also to completely erase their existence, including their thoughts and memories, like deleting a piece of harmful code.

Lena quickly got up, her specially made combat suit covered in dust and tiny metal fragments, looking disheveled, but her bright blue eyes burned with an undeniable determination and resolve. Ignoring the dirt and wounds on her body, she practically rushed towards the damaged modified all-terrain vehicle, her knees scraping against the gravel on the ground, making a faint but anxious rustling sound.

The car body was dented in several places, the hood was lifted off the ground, and twisted metal revealed a grotesque gash. The windshield was completely shattered, and glass shards were scattered inside the car like snowflakes. The left tire had also become flat from the shock and had completely lost its support.

Lena bent down, half-kneeling on the ground, her fingers deftly and quickly probing under the hood and around the axles, carefully examining the wiring and warped metal parts. She could feel the scorching heat of the metal, mixed with the smell of burnt rubber.

Her face was as pale as paper, stained with blood from when she had treated Arthur's wounds. The dark red stains were shocking, and beads of cold sweat trickled down her forehead, soaking her hair. Every touch felt like a race against time.

Arthur Morgan lay sprawled on the ground a short distance away, his body curled up, his muffled groans of pain mercilessly drowned out by the sharp, piercing electronic shrieks of the drone, sounding exceptionally weak and desperate. His breathing became rapid and shallow, each inhale a cracking sound, as if life was slipping away from him at an irreversible pace.

Lin Zheng struggled to his feet, each movement accompanied by excruciating pain from his wounds. However, the physical pain paled in comparison to the intense turmoil within him. A profound sense of guilt surged forth like a tidal wave, instantly overwhelming any remaining composure and rational judgment in his mind.

He turned his head with difficulty to look at Arthur, the once rugged, booming, and vibrant old man. Arthur Morgan, a retired detective, a lone warrior who remained steadfast in his pursuit of truth in this corrupt world. Now, he lay there frailly, his face ashen, his body trembling violently, each weak groan tearing at Lin Zheng's heart like a knife. His life force was being drained away bit by bit at an almost cruel pace.

In Lin Zheng's mind, countless fragments of memories about Arthur flashed back like a movie: he remembered the scene when Arthur first asked him for help, the old detective in the dimly lit detective agency, with a strong smell of alcohol but sharp eyes and a strong sense of justice; he remembered Arthur's unwavering dedication to the "Finch case"; he remembered Arthur standing in front of them without hesitation in a critical moment, using his own flesh and blood to hold off the company's henchmen.

Now, Arthur has fallen to this state, on the verge of death, precisely because he was protecting them, for the faint "justice" he sought, for the nameless ones exploited and sacrificed by the company. This guilt weighs heavier and more agonizing on him than any physical trauma, or even death itself. It is a pain of helplessness, a self-reproach for dragging innocent people into the abyss because of his arrival.

Lin Zheng knew clearly that if Arthur ultimately failed to pull through, this heavy burden would forever remain a mark on his heart, turning into a cold wall that would trap him in endless self-blame and despair.

Just then, a piercing electromagnetic interference suddenly cut into Lin Zheng's communicator, followed by Ava Sterling's voice, which carried an unprecedented, almost tearing sense of urgency.

Her voice was no longer the detached indifference it once possessed, the calm as if she were uninvolved. Instead, it was filled with extremely complex encrypted electrical buzzing and data interruption noise, indicating that this was a brief and highly restricted emergency communication, with the signal potentially interrupted at any moment. Lin Zheng could even sense the anxiety she was desperately suppressing from the electrical buzzing.

"Theodore Sterling himself has arrived in Emerald Dream City, and he is personally directing the manhunt for you! The danger level has been raised to the highest! Repeat, highest!" Ava's voice conveyed this cruel fact coldly and clearly, each word like a sharp knife, precisely piercing Lin Zheng's heart.

These words were like a bolt of lightning suddenly ripped through the winter night sky, instantly shattering Lin Zheng's mental defenses. Theodore Sterling! This name struck Lin Zheng's mind like a heavy lead weight.

He is a senior executive in the "Reality Stability Department" of the elegant yet ruthless "American Dream" company, a true tycoon living behind the scenes. His identity goes far beyond that of a company executive; he is a "Deep Sleeper" from one of the founding families, whose lineage is intricately linked to the "Founding Pact." He wields immense power, capable of mobilizing the company's most elite resources and most secretive forces.

Every decision he makes represents the will of the entire vast and ruthless system; he is an extension and executor of that will. His personal involvement not only means that the scale and precision of the manhunt will be raised to an unprecedented level, but also that this is no longer a simple capture or "recovery" mission, but a "purge" directly commanded by the highest power level, aimed at completely eradicating all unstable factors.

If Theodore were to act personally, his purpose would far exceed what appeared to be. Lin Zheng's thoughts instantly returned to the shocking information he had obtained from Finch's laboratory, the deeper truth about the "Lullaby" project. It was not merely a tool for manipulating dreams, but a cognitive weapon designed to erase individual free will and reshape human cognition and memory.

Theodore, as the true core figure of the "Deep Sleepers," aims not only to erase their physical existence but also to utterly destroy the truth they possess about "Lullaby" and "The Covenant of the Nation," eliminating any threat that could shake the "reality" the company has built. He will surgically and precisely remove this nail of truth embedded in the false world, ensuring that the lie of the "American Dream" is never exposed and that the power he represents remains forever secure.

Lena gripped the gun tightly, the cold touch of the metal offering a fleeting, false comfort. Yet, deep within her weary, bloodshot eyes burned a resolute flame—a steadfast and unyielding determination to fight this corrupt world to the very end. She had heard Ava's warning and sensed the rapidly escalating crisis.

Ava's voice came again, this time with an undeniable seriousness. Her tone was like delivering a final verdict, every word filled with unquestionable authority and a do-or-die determination. "Lin Zheng, no matter what, you must reach the 'Ochre Maze State'! There, there may be 'opportunities' you are unaware of! The ancient power there might be able to resist the company's infiltration!" She almost commanded, her tone carrying a complex mix of pleading and hope, as if she had placed all her bets on this unknown location.

"Ochre Maze State." The name was mentioned again, carrying an ancient and unknown attraction, like a mysterious whisper lingering in Lin Zheng's heart.

Lin Zheng immediately recalled the information Ava had provided through the encrypted files from Finch Labs: a blind spot in the company's surveillance system deep in the Central Corrosion Zone, a desolate land completely abandoned and ignored by the "American Dream" company system.

He thought of the description of the central rust zone in *The Origin of the World*—once the powerful heart of the country's industry, a forest of steel and concrete, a cacophony of machinery. Now, all that remained were endless abandoned factories, decaying in the wind and rain; only workers, their souls hollowed out by cheap drugs, lifeless, wandering the ruins like zombies. Everything there had been corroded, forgotten, ruthlessly abandoned, as if the light of modern civilization had never touched it.

There, through Finch's information, he saw the shadows of mutated creatures wandering in the darkness of the "Abandoned Car City," those former wastes twisted and reborn under the distorted energy; he heard the fanatical whispers of miners in the "Ohaytun Mining Town," whose wills had been destroyed by opioids, as they dug out otherworldly ores in their delirious hallucinations, those ores shimmering with an unusual light that did not belong to this world.

He could even imagine the bloody scene in "Rustland," where desperate believers struggling on the edge of survival, under the influence of doomsday cults and the control of psychotropic drugs, sacrificed themselves to so-called "gods," their twisted bodies and souls appearing eerily grotesque in the dim candlelight. This desolate land itself was a cruel postmodern apocalyptic landscape.

However, deep within this decay and despair lies a hidden realm forgotten by civilization—the "Ochre Labyrinth State".

In Lin Zheng's understanding, the word "ochre" was more than just a mineral pigment. In ancient Native American cultures, it was often used in solemn sacrificial ceremonies, regarded as a medium connecting the soul deep within the earth, communicating with ancestral wisdom and divine power. The word itself carried a mysterious and primitive religious connotation, inevitably reminding Lin Zheng of the true origin of the "Founding Contract"—a bloody pact signed with an ancient, unknown being slumbering underground, with the fate of the entire nation at stake. The power of the contract, the blood oath—all of this coincided with the primal spiritual power represented by "ochre."

The suffix "Maze State" further points to spatial distortion and anomalous laws. It suggests that it is not a geographical region in the conventional sense, but a "distorted zone" where the boundaries between reality and dreams are blurred, and physical laws may fail. This is a savage land that has been overlooked, cannot penetrate, or is powerless to assimilate by the "Narrative Construction Department" of "American Dream" Corporation—the powerful institution that weaves false realities.

Perhaps the ancient dream logic there is so deeply rooted, so primitively powerful, that it has never been eroded by the lies of modern civilization, still retaining its ancient truth and immense energy. For these "dream breakers," this might be an unprecedented sanctuary, a starting point for fighting back against the system of lies. But at the same time, its unknown also brings enormous risks, a danger that may be deeper and more ancient than the company itself.

Lin Zheng took a deep breath, a burning pain shooting through his throat. The air was still filled with the smell of burnt food, dust, and the sweet, metallic scent of blood. This oppressive yet real sensory stimulation brought a cruel clarity to his muddled mind.

He felt the gazes of his companions, a silent pressure mixed with unconditional trust. Jeremy Woods's serious, focused gaze on the vehicle's damage carried the calm and tenacity characteristic of a mechanic. Like a wounded beast, he stubbornly licked the vehicle's wounds, trying to bring it back to life.

The unwavering determination in Lina's eyes, though weary, was a silent encouragement, as if saying: As long as there is a glimmer of hope, we will fight to the end. These eyes held both trust in Lin Zheng and a faint glimmer of hope—seeing him as the only possibility to lead them out of their predicament.

Before them, Theodore Sterling's personally orchestrated inescapable trap was tightening at an alarming rate, compressing their living space every second, the air thick with the oppressive atmosphere of an impending storm. However, the "Ochre Labyrinth State" that Ava Sterling had pointed out became their only direction, their only breakthrough, their only ray of light amidst this encirclement. It was more than just a geographical location; it was a guide from fate, an exit filled with both the unknown and hope.

That faint but firm guidance, along with the supportive and unwavering gazes among team members, acted like two powerful forces, forcefully pulling Lin Zheng out of the abyss of self-doubt. It was as if something within him had been rekindled, and a long-dormant flame began to burn.

He suddenly realized that the escape was not the end of this struggle; on the contrary, it was merely the true beginning of their rebellion against the "American Dream" corporation and their fight against this fabricated world. The real "breakthrough" might not lie in simply escaping capture, but in completely shattering this meticulously woven world of lies and tearing apart the veil shrouding the truth.

He recalled his extraordinary ability to "anatomize dreams"—it wasn't merely an unusual perception. He could see through the surface of flesh and reality, peering into the deep structure of things like an X-ray, discerning their "structural weaknesses," whether physical, psychological, or even the deeper logic of dreams and the laws of consciousness. He could sense the intricate chains of logic hidden behind everything in the world, and identify deliberately concealed "code vulnerabilities."

This was not merely a tool for survival, but an extremely sharp weapon of retaliation, the only key to dismantling the "Sacrifice Guardian" law upon which the "American Dream" Corporation maintained its rule. He began to understand that his abilities were not just for self-preservation, but also for dismantling the empire built on lies and deception, and for liberating the souls imprisoned in the false dream.

Lin Zheng's gaze shifted to the modified all-terrain vehicle. Lina was skillfully and quickly reconnecting several broken wires torn apart by the explosion. Her fingers moved nimbly in the confined space, her movements precise and decisive, each twist carrying the strength of her entire being.

Jeremy squatted beside the wheel, sweat dripping down his dark cheeks. He struggled to inflate the flat tire with a manual pump, his arm muscles taut and trembling slightly from the effort. Each press seemed to inject a glimmer of hope into the tire.

They raced against time, every moment's delay potentially meaning annihilation. Sweat mingled with dust, leaving muddy streaks on their faces, but their movements revealed an undeniable, desperate spirit, a yearning for life and hope.

The buzzing of the drone in the distance gradually faded away. It did not immediately launch a second attack. Like a lurking viper, it hovered in the air, waiting for the next deadly order from its superiors. This brief pause gave them a precious but ironic chance to catch their breath, but it also made them feel more clearly the net that was slowly tightening.

But this respite was so limited; the air was thick with tension and oppression, and new pursuers could arrive at any moment like sharks smelling blood. Lin Zheng felt the tearing pain in his lungs gradually subside, but the torment deep within his heart grew ever clearer. He clenched his fists so tightly that his fingertips turned white from the force, and his palms were already soaked with sweat.

Countless streams of information surged and collided in his mind like a tidal wave: Arthur's painful and weak groans, Ava's cold and urgent warning, Lina's tired yet resolute eyes, and the vague yet alluring hope brought by the unknown "Ochre Labyrinth State." All of it converged into a powerful force at that moment.

He raised his head, his gaze sharp and resolute once more, like a sword piercing the mist of the night sky. He looked at the communicator beside his ear. Although he knew Ava's signal had been completely cut off, and that she might be facing even greater danger than they were, he still wanted to give a clear, unquestionable answer—a response to her, to themselves, and to the world.

"Okay." Lin Zheng said in a deep and hoarse voice, without a trace of hesitation. Every syllable was full of determination and strength, as if he were announcing his decision to the whole world.

This simple word "good" contains so much: it encompasses trust in Ava, an unwavering determination to face unknown challenges, a heavy commitment to Arthur's potential sacrifice, and his steadfast will as leader to guide the team through the crisis. It is not only a farewell to the past, but also a vow to the future—to never yield, never give up, and never fear.

The next moment, Lin Zheng no longer hesitated or looked back, and walked straight towards Jeremy and Lina. He knew that at this moment, he had to become the leader who could unite everyone's will and lead them out of the inescapable trap that Theodore had personally laid out before them.

A life-or-death battle to break through has just begun. This is merely a crucial step they have taken on this enormous chessboard, but this one step will determine everything that follows.

Theodore Sterling's personal involvement, his true intentions, and the extent of his knowledge of the secrets of the "Founding Covenant" and the "Lullaby" remain a mystery. And is the so-called "opportunity" in the "Ochre Labyrinth State" a liberation or a deeper trap?

All the answers lie buried deep in the darkness, waiting for them to uncover and confront them. Their fates struggle in the night, everything hangs in the balance, but the direction is clear.