Reversing Falsehood and Preserving Truth: All Gods and Gods Are in My Hands

Let's turn back the clock a few days.

Deep within an unfinished tunnel of Metro Line 3 in the eastern district of Zhongzhou City. It's as if the city's veins have been abruptly severed; the rough texture of concrete is exposed under the dim, temporary lighting, and the air is thick with the damp, musty smell of cement dust and groundwater. A few emergency lights hang on the rock face, their glow barely outlining three hunched figures.

They were all wearing matching blue overalls, but if you looked closely, you would see that in the tool bags on their waists, in addition to the usual wrenches and measuring instruments, there were also several glass bottles sealed with black tape. The liquid inside the bottles was dark red and viscous, and it shone with an oily sheen under the light.

The leader was a thin, middle-aged man whose face was almost completely covered by the brim of his baseball cap.

He squatted in front of the tunnel wall, his right index and middle fingers together, dipped in dark red ink taken from a bottle, and quickly ran them across the rough concrete surface.

Where the fingertips trace, they leave behind twisted lines that seem to possess life.

The patterns are the same as the symbols that appeared on the wall of Grandma Lu Yu's old house last year. Each stroke seems to breathe, emitting a very faint, ominous dark red glow.

"Hurry up, the secondary array eye must be activated before 2 a.m.

The man's voice was hoarse, filled with an undeniable fervor, "The core array has already been laid out. These twelve secondary array eyes must be set up at the designated locations in Zhongzhou. All energy must eventually converge at the coordinates of the 'Gate'."

The other two quickened their pace in response. The hissing sound of metal needles scraping against the rock wall echoed in the empty tunnel. The moment the rune was completed, a faint energy line seeped out from the rock wall, extending along the direction of the underground pipe network, and finally disappeared into the darkness.

Under the same night sky, Zihua Park in the heart of Zhongzhou City had already closed. The artificial hill area was even quieter, with only the occasional chirping of summer insects.

Two figures were busy among the rocks in the shaded area of ​​the artificial hill, taking advantage of the cover of trimming shrubs.

They wore vests and moved with ease, like ordinary gardeners.

However, one of them was not holding ordinary pruning shears, but a specially made carving knife with an antique design and a cold, gleaming blade.

The other person carefully took out a small cloth bag and filled the shallow marks that had already been chiseled into the stone wall with dark red powder.

When the powder touched the stone wall, it began to move on its own, flowing and connecting along the engravings.

When the last gap was filled, the entire array of runes hidden in the folds of the artificial mountain trembled slightly, and several dark red rune stones buried deep in the cracks began to emit a faint heat.

This heat resonated with the thin energy lines in the tunnel several kilometers away, like a slight tremor in a spider web.

Similar scenes are playing out simultaneously in every corner of the city.

These believers, though scattered and of different identities, all followed the same set of instructions. Their actions were secretive and efficient, and no one noticed that a conspiracy concerning the survival of the world was taking shape in the night.

In the west of the city, an abandoned workshop of a textile factory that had long ceased production became the temporary command center of the "Guizhen Sect" in Zhongzhou.

The rusted textile machinery lay silently in the shadows like the skeleton of a giant beast, and there was a strange smell in the air of old cotton wool mixed with machine oil.

Only a small area cleared out in the center of the workshop stood out starkly against the surrounding ruins.

The ground here was polished to an exceptionally smooth surface, and a complex magic circle about three meters in diameter was inscribed with an unidentified dark red paint.

The lines of the magic circle twisted and spiraled, with a slowly rotating vortex-like symbol at its center, emitting a faint, unsettling energy fluctuation.

Beside the magic circle, a middle-aged man in a black robe stood with his hands behind his back. He was tall and thin, with a face as hard as if carved by a knife and axe, and deep-set eyes that gleamed with a deep light in the dim light.

His black robe had twisted and coiled snake patterns embroidered on the cuffs with dark gold silk thread, which was the symbol of the "missionary deacon" within the Guizhen Sect.

Wei Kun, a 5-star Divine Realm cultivator, inherited a certain Dao power that leans towards mental manipulation.

His gaze was fixed on the 3D map of Zhongzhou City projected in front of him.

On the map, twelve dark red dots are gradually lighting up, like evil eyes slowly opening.

They appear to be scattered throughout the city, but if someone skilled in array formations looks closely, they will find that the distribution of these red dots corresponds to some ancient and eerie star map. All the hidden lines of energy flow ultimately point to a specially marked location in the center of the map—Grandma Lu Yu's old house.

"The subway tunnel, the artificial hill in Zihua Park... energy feedback is normal, and the connection is stable." A believer dressed in gray cloth, who looked like an old accountant, stood aside and reported in a low voice.

Wei Kun's lips twitched, then curved into a smile: "Very good. During the college entrance examination period... the purest and most intense joy, anger, worry, thought, sorrow, fear, and shock of one million candidates in Zhongzhou City... this is a golden opportunity to disrupt the seal and open the 'door.' If we miss this chance, we'll have to wait a long time."

A pale-faced young believer dressed in a uniform disguised as a telecommunications repairman jogged over and respectfully bowed his head to report: "Deacon, news from the outer perimeter alert point indicates that the student named Lu Yu merely wandered around the city during the day, visiting his grandmother's old house, his school, and the vicinity of some classmates' homes. It seems he was simply relaxing before the college entrance exam and was unaware of our actions."

"Oh."

Wei Kun's lips curled into a cold smile, tinged with disdain: "After all, he's just a student. Even if he has a special bloodline and is lucky, that's all. His grandmother might have been a problem back then, but this kid... isn't good enough."

He paused, his tone turning stern, "However, we still cannot let our guard down. All surveillance points must be monitored 24 hours a day, and any suspicious activity must be reported immediately!"

"Yes!" the young believer quickly replied and stepped back.

A believer beside him bowed and asked, "Deacon, the last mission to Central Continent failed because of that executor disguised as a human. I heard he's been tracking us ever since. Should we...?"

"No need."

Wei Kun raised his hand to interrupt, a ruthless glint in his eyes, "That guy has already been captured by us."

He raised his hand and waved, switching the projector's view.

The scene then shifts to a dark, damp basement with only dim lighting.

Thick iron chains, engraved with suppressive runes, tightly bound a figure to the central stone pillar.

The man's blue overalls were soaked in blood and torn in several places, revealing skin underneath that was an abnormal color and had faint, scaly textures. His head was bowed, and his disheveled, gray hair covered most of his face, but his slightly rising and falling chest proved that he was still alive.

It was Old Zhou.

Seemingly sensing that he was being watched, Old Zhou raised his head with difficulty. The light danced across his face, illuminating a face covered in dirt and fatigue, yet still with strong features. His eyes held no fear, only a deep weariness and an almost pitying mockery.

"It's just a spirit that can control its own instincts, yet it dares to criticize our doctrines."

Wei Kun's tone was full of disdain. "He said that what lies beneath the old house is not a 'gate' to the 'real world,' but some kind of 'seal of the Primordial Ruins.' That's ridiculous."

In the projection, Old Zhou suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse but firm: "You bunch of fools! Yuanxu is the source of illusion. Breaking the seal will only allow more illusion to flood in. Your so-called 'return to truth' is nothing but self-destruction!"

"shut up!"

One of the guards shouted angrily and lashed out at Old Zhou with a long whip imbued with the power of the Great Dao.

Wei Kun sneered and turned off the projection: "The illusory spirit is just a guardian of this false world... There's no point in saying more. Once the magic array is activated and the 'gate' is opened, he will know who is right and who is wrong."

His eyes then turned fervent and devout: "The thoughts of all living beings are the fuel, and countless runes are the catalyst... This time, we will tear down this veil of falsehood! Soon we will break free from the cage of this illusory world and return to our true homeland..."

He turned to the core believers behind him, his tone suddenly becoming authoritative, "Notify all secondary array eyes that starting tomorrow, essence blood will be injected to activate the array's resonance, allowing energy to flow along the earth's veins to the 'gate,' paving the way for the main ceremony during the college entrance examination."

"Yes, sir!"

The believers responded in unison, their voices filled with a fervent sense of mission, and then turned and quickly left.

In the basement, Old Zhou leaned against a stone pillar, his chest heaving violently.

He recalled Grandma Lu Yu's instructions from years ago, and his promise to protect Lu Yu and the old house, and a trace of anxiety flashed in his eyes.

No one knew that the "ethereal executor" who had protected the old house many times was imprisoned in the darkness;

Unbeknownst to anyone, a storm concerning the survival of the world was quietly brewing on the eve of the college entrance examination, teetering on the brink of eruption.