I created the Old Gods and Outer Gods in America.

National Guard trucks entered the Eighth District at 4 a.m.

After the quarantine order was issued, the city hall's emergency response was faster than anyone expected: a complete lockdown!

The isolation of the first few outbreak points went quite smoothly.

One of the advantages of the extraordinary era is that when you tell citizens "this thing may be related to the supernatural," no one will talk to you about personal freedom; fear is the best administrative order.

But a problem arose in District 8, where the people were a mixed bag, and ultimately four streets were sealed off!

The news was blocked for less than six hours.

Then X exploded.

**#DemonVirus**

The hashtag went viral, reaching number one on the US trending list within forty minutes. Someone filmed soldiers in full hazmat suits setting up barbed wire fences on the street, while someone posted a video taken on their phone from inside the quarantine zone.

A kind of flesh is growing on the surface of an infected person's skin; his nails are falling off, and sharp, keratin-like protrusions are growing from his fingertips.

"Demon Virus".

No one knows who first came up with this name, but everyone thinks it's appropriate.

Life in the quarantine zone began to become difficult on the third day. Supplies couldn't keep up, supermarket shelves were empty, convenience stores were closed, and while most residents had food reserves, not everyone did.

A young mother named Lydia Monroe turned on her phone on the third night.

Her account balance was $11.

There was half a carton of milk and two slices of bread left in the refrigerator. She has two children, the older one is four years old and the younger one is eighteen months old. The relief supplies were supposed to arrive tomorrow, but they also said tomorrow yesterday.

Lydia did not publicly seek help on social media; she did not want to be photographed or used as tragic material in some trending event.

She chose to send a private message.

She sent it to the official accounts of every religious organization she could find.

She sent a total of nineteen private messages.

Replies will arrive gradually over the next 24 hours.

She received friendly replies to almost every private message. What surprised her most was that the official account of the Satanic cult even transferred five hundred dollars to her.

The reply consisted of only one line: "No need to thank any god, take care of yourself."

Another unfamiliar name appeared on the donation list. There was no profile picture, no personal information, and the account had only been registered for three days.

"Dagon's Secret Order".

I transferred $800.

No comments were left.

Lydia didn't know what sect it was, but the money was real.

She ran through all the religious names she knew in her mind, but couldn't find a match. After thinking for a moment, she sent a thank-you message anyway.

There was no reply.

Of the nineteen religious organizations, seventeen provided assistance to varying degrees.

There was only one that did not reply.

No, the other party also replied.

Lydia stared at the screen for a long time.

That was the official Christian account, and the reply was short, just three sentences.

First sentence: We will pray for you and your family.

The second sentence: God gives everyone the ability to save themselves.

Third question: Have you considered other ways to generate income? If you are young enough, there is a high demand for such "services" in many places.

Lydia's fingers froze on the screen.

She took a screenshot of the private message.

Fifteen minutes later, the screenshot appeared on Twitter.

......

As it turns out, the internet always reacts faster than any government department.

Four hours later, the church's official account was thoroughly searched, with screenshots and archives of every public statement from the past, including a statement against abortion from two years ago and a Porsche Cayenne parked in the pastor's parking space when the church called on its members to donate to church renovations six months ago.

"The Satanic Church donated $500 to the mothers in the quarantine area, while Christianity made them sell [the drugs]."

This tweet was retweeted 170,000 times.

The comment section can no longer be described as "lively".

So who exactly is the devil?

"I propose granting tax exemptions to Satanism and revoking the tax exemptions for Christianity."

"Satan is like a green recruit."

"This is hilarious! This church used to say they wanted to help the poor, but now their way of helping is teaching people how to help others?"

Public opinion was like a pot of boiling oil, and the church's crisis management team clearly had no experience in handling this level of disaster.

Their only option was to delete the message, then play dead, pretending nothing had happened, in an attempt to muddle through.

The hype continued until the second day, when reporters, drawn by the scent, arrived.

Instead of going to that evangelical church, which was too far away, the reporters prioritized finding the nearest Catholic church outside the cordon in the eighth district.

This place is closest to the crime scene and has the most dramatic conflict.

Father Dawson, the 57-year-old priest of St. Vincent's Church, who has been in this parish for 19 years, is sitting on a bench next to the confessional, watching the reporters and cameras pouring into the church, his eyes twitching uncontrollably.

"Father, what is your opinion on the Christian church's response to the mothers in the quarantine area?"

Father Dawson cleared his throat: "That does not represent the position of all Christian communities. If that mother comes to my church seeking help, we will certainly do everything we can to provide assistance."

"But when she asked for help online, your parish account did not respond."

Father Dawson paused for a moment: "Our parish's social media accounts are managed by the parish office; I am not personally responsible for them."

No matter what the other person said, Father Dawson would reply, "I didn't do it, I don't know, don't ask me."

Until a young female reporter picked up a recording pen.

"Father, the virus is being called the 'demon virus' online, and the symptoms of those infected do indeed look very...unnatural. As a member of the clergy, have you considered performing exorcisms for those infected?"

The church was silent for a second.

Father Dawson maintained his smile, but his left eyelid twitched.

"Exorcism is a very serious religious ritual."

"It requires the bishop's approval and will only be carried out under very specific circumstances. This virus is a public health event and should be handled by professional medical personnel."

The reporter quickly followed up, "So you won't go to the quarantine area to perform an exorcism?"

The priest said, "This is not a problem that can be solved by exorcism."

"But what if there really is some kind of supernatural power within the infected person? Do you have the ability to exorcise demons?"

Father Dawson was silent for two seconds.

He looked at the earnest young reporter in front of him, then at her colleague carrying a camera behind her, and then at the crowd still squeezing into the church.

The corners of his mouth maintained a proper curve.

Exorcising demons my ass!

Exorcism? What kind of exorcism?

This is the 21st century, not the Middle Ages, where you can just tie people up and set them on fire and that's it!

He had heard of the exorcism training courses in the Vatican. Those who went said that the biggest takeaway was learning how to distinguish between mental illness and religious fanaticism, and that 99.9% of them were the former.

Demon virus?

That thing looks like a monster; even those wearing hazmat suits are afraid to get close. You want me to rush in with a Bible?

He could picture that scene.

He walked into the quarantine area wearing a ceremonial robe, raised a cross to an infected person covered in blood and flesh, and shouted "Devils, begone!" Then the person slapped him to the ground.

However, if this demonic virus was possessing a young boy...