All Realms and Worlds: The Lost Home

A violent wave of dizziness swept over my entire body.

Yao Guang felt dizzy and his ears were ringing. The remaining anger in his body intertwined with the chaotic energy of spatial transmission, making him weak all over and almost losing all his strength.

He instinctively gripped the pulse gun at his waist, his knuckles turning white from the force. Even as he was overcome by dizziness, the vigilance ingrained in his bones from years of space battles never faded.

The next second, their feet finally touched the solid ground.

It wasn't the cold, hard feel of a starship deck, nor the ruggedness of battlefield ruins, but rather a sticky, damp, and somewhat decaying earthy texture, like stepping on a pile of soaked, rotting leaves, with a subtle "crunching" sound underfoot that sent chills down your spine.

Yao Guang struggled to stand, raised her hand to rub her throbbing temples, and slowly opened her eyes.

What came into view was a desolate, suffocatingly silent forest.

There wasn't a single patch of green; all you could see were bare tree trunks, their branches twisted and intertwined like countless withered arms frantically clawing at the sky, their postures bizarre and ferocious, as if struggling or pleading for something.

The tree trunk was dark brown, even with an eerie grayish-black tinge, and its surface was covered with dense cracks. Deep within the cracks, a sticky, dark red sap seemed to slowly seep out, emitting a strange smell that was a mixture of decay and a sweet, fishy odor. Inhaling it made one's stomach churn.

Yao Guang frowned, subconsciously held her breath, and slowly scanned her surroundings.

Just then, his gaze froze.

On those bare branches hung some things that were hard to describe or explain.

Their shapes were twisted, like rags that had been carelessly crumpled, or the remains of some kind of creature. They were grayish-black all over, covered with a thin, sticky white frost. They swayed gently with the faint wind (if it could be called wind), making a soft "rustling" sound, like a whisper or a sob.

Yao Guang squinted, trying to see the true appearance of those things, but no matter how hard he tried, his vision was shrouded in an invisible mist, and he could only see blurry outlines. The closer he looked, the more dizzy he felt, and a strange sense of irritability and fear welled up in his heart.

He quickly looked away, not daring to stare any longer.

In his years of cosmic warfare, he had seen alien beasts of all shapes and sizes, studied countless bizarre alien ruins, and experienced strange events that could drive an ordinary person to the brink of madness. But he had never felt anything like this before—a bone-chilling cold that seeped into his body through his pores, freezing his limbs and chilling him to the bone.

He raised his head and looked up at the sky.

The sky was devoid of blue skies and white clouds, only a hazy, oppressive layer of clouds, beneath which hung a dark red sun.

The sun had no heat, emitting a faint, dark red halo. The light was dim and eerie, staining the entire withered forest with a strange blood-red hue, making the twisted tree trunks and bizarre hanging objects look even more ferocious and terrifying.

There was no sign of day and night alternation, no sound of birds or insects chirping, and even the rustling of the wind through the leaves sounded eerily strange. This withered forest was so silent that it seemed as if it had never had any life, leaving only decay and desolation.

Yao Guang took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.

He could clearly feel that the power of anger within his body had become unusually restless, as if it were being drawn to this strange environment, or as if it were fighting against some unknown force, making his mind increasingly unstable.

He raised his hand and touched the pulse gun at his waist. The cool metallic touch gave him a little confidence.

This pulse gun, which he modified himself, is powerful enough to pierce the scales of ordinary beasts. It has accompanied him through countless life-or-death battles and is his only weapon and his only solace at this moment.

Yao Guang slowly turned her body, looked around, and tried to find a way out.

The withered forest stretched endlessly, and no matter which direction he looked, all he saw was a twisted expanse of dead trees, with no end in sight. It was as if this withered forest was a giant cage, trapping him tightly.

Just as he was feeling a sense of despair, his gaze inadvertently swept across what lay ahead, and his pupils contracted slightly.

At the end of this path through the dead woods, the outline of a village seems to be faintly visible.

The path meandered and twisted, covered with dry leaves and pebbles. The withered trees on both sides grew denser and their branches intertwined more tightly, as if deliberately preventing someone from approaching the village.

Yao Guang's heart stirred, and without the slightest hesitation, she lifted her foot and walked towards the village at the end of the path.

At this moment, this is the only place he can see that might offer any hope of survival, and it is also his only way out.

The fallen leaves crunched underfoot, the sound particularly jarring in this desolate, barren forest. Each sound seemed to break some taboo, making the surrounding air grow even colder.

Just as he took his third step, an extremely eerie and chilling gaze suddenly came from behind him.

The gaze was icy and chilling, carrying a strange malice, as if something was lurking in the shadows, staring intently at him with greedy and eerie eyes, as if sizing up prey, or waiting for an opportunity to pounce and devour him whole.

Yao Guang's body froze instantly, and the hairs on his body stood on end. His instincts, honed by years of battle, made him grip the pulse gun at his waist almost instantly, turn around sharply, and point the muzzle at the withered forest behind him.

"Who?!"

He gave a low, hoarse shout, his voice carrying a hint of barely perceptible vigilance and unease. His sharp gaze swept over every corner behind him, carefully checking every possible hiding place.

Twisted, withered trees, eerie hanging objects, sticky soil, and hazy, gray grass...

He looked very carefully, not missing a single tiny corner, but no matter how hard he searched, he found no trace of anything.

There was no sign of any strange beasts, no trace of any humans, not even a single insect or a drifting leaf.

The withered forest behind him remained as silent and eerie as ever, as if the chilling gaze he had felt earlier was just his imagination.

But Yao Guang knew that it was definitely not an illusion.

That bone-chilling cold, that instinctive unease, that feeling of being locked on by prey—it was all too real, so real that it chilled him to the bone and made him panic.

He had fought in the Star Sea for many years, experienced countless life-and-death crises, and had been targeted by countless powerful alien beasts, but he had never felt anything like this before—that gaze, invisible and intangible, yet omnipresent, as if it had merged into the surrounding air, and no matter how he tried to avoid it, he could not get rid of it.

Yao Guang frowned and slowly withdrew her gaze, but the unease in her heart did not diminish in the slightest.

He gripped the pulse gun tightly again, the muzzle slightly lowered, his eyes scanning his surroundings warily. He slowly turned around and continued walking towards the village at the end of the path.

This time, however, his steps became slower and more cautious. He would stop after each step, carefully listen to the sounds around him, and check his surroundings, afraid of missing any subtle abnormalities.

The creaking sound underfoot still echoed in the deathly silent forest, but besides that, he also heard an extremely faint and eerie sound.

The sound was like the rustling of something crawling on the ground, or the whisper of some creature; it was extremely faint, almost imperceptible, and slowly drifted into his ears with the wind.

He stopped abruptly, held his breath, and listened intently.

But just as he was concentrating on listening, the eerie sound suddenly disappeared, as if it had never existed. All that remained was the crunching of the fallen leaves under his feet and the heavy pounding of his own heart.

"Strange..." Yao Guang muttered to herself, a hint of doubt and seriousness flashing in her eyes, "Is it my imagination?"

He shook his head, forcing himself to stop thinking about it.

He knew that in such a bizarre environment, the more he overthinked, the more likely he was to fall into fear and make mistakes. Only by staying calm could he find a way out and survive.

He lifted his foot again and continued walking towards the village.

But that chilling gaze grew stronger and stronger.

It was no longer just behind him, but coming from all directions—left, right, above, and below. It was as if countless eyes were hiding in the shadows, staring intently at him with cold, greedy, and eerie gazes, carrying an inexplicable malice that enveloped him completely.

The feeling was like being gripped tightly in the heart by countless cold hands, making it hard to breathe, causing his heart to race, and making the blood in his body feel like it was about to freeze.

Beads of cold sweat trickled down Yao Guang's forehead, dripping onto the soil beneath his feet and being instantly absorbed without leaving a trace.

He could clearly feel his body trembling uncontrollably, not from fear, but from the bone-chilling coldness and the restless anger within him. The two intertwined, making his body increasingly out of control.

He gritted his teeth, bracing himself to keep from collapsing, his eyes still scanning his surroundings warily, his pulse gun in his hand always in a defensive posture, ready to fire at any moment.

He knew that those things lurking in the shadows were watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. Once he lowered his guard, once he showed fear, those things would pounce on him and devour him completely.

He cannot be afraid, nor can he back down.

During his years of fighting in the Star Sea, he experienced countless life-or-death situations. Each time, he survived by virtue of his courage and wisdom, and this time was no different.

Yao Guang took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to calm her restless mind. At the same time, she also tried to suppress the restless anger within her body.

His steps remained slow and firm, one step at a time, heading towards the village at the end of the path.

As they got closer to the village, the surrounding withered trees became sparser and the path wider, but the eerie atmosphere grew stronger.

The outline of the village became increasingly clear.

It was a dilapidated village, with houses built of adobe and dead wood. The walls were full of cracks, and some houses had collapsed roofs, leaving only half of the broken walls, which looked particularly desolate in the dark red sunlight.

There was no smoke rising from the village, no crowing of roosters or barking of dogs, and not even a single person in sight. It was eerily silent, as if the village had been abandoned for countless years and had never been inhabited by humans.

The strangest thing is that all the doors in the village are tightly closed.

Whether it was a dilapidated mud-brick house or a slightly better wooden house, the doors were all tightly closed, without a single gap, as if deliberately avoiding something, or as if hiding some secret.

On some doors, there are still some tattered, faded strips of cloth hanging, swaying gently in the wind, like some kind of eerie totem, or like some kind of warning signal.

A stronger sense of unease welled up in Yao Guang's heart.

This village is too eerie.

The village was dilapidated, desolate, and its doors were tightly shut, devoid of any life. It was like a dead village, yet he could sense that something was hidden within it. The chilling gaze emanated from the direction of the village and was the strongest.

He stopped at the end of the path, a dozen meters away from the village, and cautiously surveyed the eerie village, not daring to proceed rashly.