In the mountains of the southwestern border region, the air was so thick it felt solidified.
Hidden in the depths of the dense forest, the other CIA agents, waiting like venomous snakes for their prey, had been staring fixedly at the target with fingers already resting on their triggers.
However, at almost the exact same second, a supreme retreat order from across the ocean crackled through every tactical headset.
The command was not a calm directive; it was a lung-tearing shriek filled with a bone-deep, apocalyptic terror: "Retreat! Retreat! Retreat! Abandon all non-essential equipment! Leave the coordinates immediately! GO!"
The lead agent didn't even have time to take off his million-dollar "Medusa" AR helmet. His eyes, usually accustomed to cold-blooded calculation and battlefield gambits, were now filled with pure, primal fear of the unknown.
He knew exactly what that madman of a President had activated.
Two violently modified black SUVs roared like beasts, tires screeching against the asphalt as they kicked up acrid smoke and billowing dust.
These killing machines, trained by the world's elite to destabilize nations, were now scurrying like rats whose nest had been poked.
They didn't even dare to look back at the target, flooring the accelerators as their speeds hit the limit on the winding highway.
"F*ck! Are they really insane? Using the 'Rods from God' here? Are they planning to vaporize us along with them?" one agent screamed, gripping the interior handle.
As the SUV accelerated madly on the mountain path, his forehead slammed into the window, leaving him bloodied, yet he didn't even stop to wipe it.
No one answered him. Because at that precise moment, the sky... lit up.
It wasn't the glow of dawn, but a devastating, metallic, ghastly white light. It was the aurora produced by a tungsten rod plunging from outer space, frictionizing with the atmosphere.
Like a poison stinger piercing the firmament, it locked onto this fragile earth with the kinetic energy of dozens of times the speed of sound.
Death had arrived, neither early nor late.
While the CIA fled in a frenzy, the LongNation's SWAT support arrived like a thunderclap. Team Leader Chen, sitting in the lead armored vehicle, clearly captured the erratic flight of the two black SUVs through his night vision.
"These cowards... are they part rabbit?"
He frowned.
As a front-line commander, he keenly sensed the hair-raising pressure in the air. "Squad One, chase those bastards! Do not let them leave the border! The rest of you, follow me to protect 'Sato'! Confirm the status of the others!"
The radio crackled with steady, murderous responses.
The next second, several tactical vehicles performed perfect drifts at the intersection, splitting into two paths. For a moment, the narrow streets became the stage for a textbook high-speed chase.
The SWAT bulletproof vehicles charged like heavy cavalry, attempting to intercept.
However, just as they were about to bite the CIA's tail, everyone simultaneously experienced an illusion—a sharp ringing deep in their ears, as if the world was being torn open.
"Leader Chen! Look at the sky!" Xiao Zhang yelled from the passenger seat, his voice trembling.
Chen looked up. His pupils contracted instantly, reflecting the blazing white meteor plummeting from the clouds. He knew that wasn't a meteorite. It was a man-made judgment called "Civilization" but acting as "Barbarism"—the final madness of the Bald Eagle Nation (B.E.N.).
Meanwhile, the eyes of the entire BluePlanet remained fixed on the judgment livestream. At this moment, the image fell into an eerie stillness.
In the split-screen on the left, a pair of long, beautiful hands gripped a gray-and-white rabbit.
Under the gaze of billions, she was demonstrating the atrocities she once committed against the rabbit—mechanically and coldly attempting to dismember that tiny body.
On the right, the mirror of causality was forming, returning that unspeakable agony to her in microseconds.
But this tragic scene no longer mattered to the audience in the Long Nation. Because in the southwest of reality, the sky had completely changed color.
Not only the locals but even the citizens of neighboring countries stopped watching the stream or working, staring up at the heavens in horror.
"Is this a new punishment from the BeastGod?"
"What did we do wrong? Why send down this world-ending light?"
The livestream chat exploded, the screen flooded with frantic text:
—[What is that? A meteorite?]
—[Run! It's the Rods from God! Everything within a hundred miles will turn to scorched earth!]
—[God, I admit my sins! I'll never kick a stray dog again, please forgive me!]
—[B.E.N. has lost it! Are they going to bomb the judgment site?]
—[My great nation would never do such a thing without cause!]
—[Then what is this? Are we all having a mass hallucination?]
Panic spread through the internet and reality like a plague. In the face of this vast destruction capable of erasing everything, all insults, confessions, and arguments seemed utterly pale and powerless.
The SWAT officers of Squad One chasing the CIA were forced to decelerate.
"Leader Chen!!!" they screamed through the comms. They watched helplessly as the white light plummeted directly toward Chen's position.
In that split second of distraction, the lead CIA vehicle performed a frantic fishtail and vanished behind the corner of an abandoned factory, shielded by thick smoke.
"Damn it! We lost them!" Officer Li slammed his fist against the steering wheel, his knuckles bleeding. But he had no time for regret; his eyes were bloodshot as he stared back at the sky—where his brothers were.
Secret Underground Command Center.
Bang!
An old general stood up, slamming his desk so hard the tactical map shattered.
"Those madmen from B.E.N.! They're declaring war on the entire Blue Planet! Don't they fear starting World War III?"
Silence filled the room, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of men under extreme stress. A civilian representative—a pale strategist in black-rimmed glasses—spoke slowly, his voice heavy with cynicism.
"General, even if they start a war now, it's meaningless. Manpower? Resources? In this era where the Beast God has descended and everyone is under trial, who can organize an effective army? Most people are still paralyzed by the terror of the livestreams. This world is no longer a place where gunpowder and missiles hold the floor. This rod... it's their last-ditch effort."
The room fell silent. An unprecedented sense of powerlessness spread through the supreme command.
The ultimate weapons and military might that humanity once took pride in had become useless trinkets.
At the center of the storm, near the trembling People's Hospital.
Zhizhi, reverted to his fancy rat form, huddled in the grass. His black-bean eyes were filled with the reflection of the terrifying white light in the sky.
He had only just regained his dignity as a "living being"; he had only just seen the first sign of Mother Tian waking up; he still wanted to call Tian Shuangxin "Mom" with his own voice.
He didn't want to die. He had just developed a lingering attachment to this world. He still wanted to see tomorrow's sun and eat a single grain of rice that didn't taste of bitterness.
Zhizhi looked up, and though his body was as tiny as a speck of dust, he used every ounce of his strength to let out a soul-piercing roar into the void:
"Squeak—! (My Great Beast God! Save us!)"
That sound pierced through the barriers of time and space, reaching the infinite depths.
"ROAR————!!!"
A massive sound erupted—not from an explosion, but from the vibration of the void!
This roar instantly drowned out the whistling of the falling tungsten rod and the clamor of the city, leaving every living being within a hundred miles with ringing ears and a momentary blankness in their souls.
The clouds were torn apart. A shadow so vast it blotted out the sun swaggered across the sky in an incredibly "flashy" manner.
It was—the Píxiū (Wealth Devourer).
It had the head of a dragon, the body of a horse, and the hooves of a qilin. It resembled a lion, with ash-white fur shimmering with a divine luster and a pair of massive, unignorable wings on Its back.
It wasn't as elegant and holy as the BluePhoenix, nor as upright as the Law Keeper. It appeared with the domineering aura of "I am the lord of this world", even carrying a certain wealthy swagger.
Facing the tungsten rod capable of piercing the earth's crust, the Divine Beast did not flinch.
It let out a desolate and heavy low roar toward the sky. The sound didn't resemble a biological cry; it sounded like two mountains of pure gold colliding violently ten thousand meters in the air!
With that roar, visible ripples distorted the air. The Rods from God, hurtling down at dozens of times the speed of sound, came to a bizarre halt the moment they touched those ripples. It was as if an embroidery needle shot at a dragon had been blown into a standstill by a single breath.
Majestic, heavy, and filled with a wild arrogance that said, "I just don't like the look of you."
Within the high-dimensional space of the Divine Realm.
In the Blue Phoenix space, Qinghong—drawn by the vibrations—stood in a daze.
Staring at the water mirror, she stammered to the elegant Blue Phoenix, "Can... can It handle that alone? The knowledge in my head says that's an ultimate weapon capable of piercing through mountains!"
Meanwhile, in the Scale's dimension, Lawyer Hans had finally managed a break from his mountain of judicial paperwork. He was currently accompanying the Scale of Causality in learning the art of tea drinking. He adjusted his glasses, his expression grave.
"My Lord, that is a pure kinetic weapon. There are no energy circuits to interfere with. Can it truly defy the laws of physics?"
At that exact moment, the Blue Phoenix and the Scale replied in perfect unison:
"The Wealth Devourer swallows all things and never excretes."
Lawyer Hans froze for a second before a bitter smile crossed his face. He understood. This mythological logic had transcended physics. He watched the mirror with a look that was half-amused and half-knowing.
In the Blue Phoenix space, however, Qinghong was lost. She tilted her head. "What does that mean? It doesn't get a stomach ache?"
The Blue Phoenix gave an elegant roll of its eyes. "That fellow has no other hobbies in life; it simply loves devouring metal. Especially metal with extreme density and pure texture."
Qinghong scratched her head. "Then that tungsten rod..."
Resigned, the Blue Phoenix pointed a wing at the image. "In its eyes, that thing is just a giant, all-natural, additive-free, premium-grade gold bar. To put it in your mortal terms—"
The scene shifted violently!
In the sky, the Wealth Devourer suddenly donned an expression of extreme excitement—bordering on greed.
Its massive maw, capable of swallowing mountains and rivers, gaped open, and a pitch-black vortex formed deep within Its throat.
In that instant, It wasn't defending. It was dining.
The "Rods from God" intended to end the world became nothing more than a spicy snack flying into a mouth. With a sharp "SWOOSH," the rod vanished completely into that dark gullet.
The Blue Phoenix looked at the dumbstruck Qinghong and calmly finished its sentence:
"—That was just someone sending it 'takeout'. And with free delivery, no less."
The sky returned to its tranquil state. The Wealth Devourer even let out a satisfied burp, exhaling a cloud of golden mist.
The entire Blue Planet fell into a deathly silence.
In the B.E.N. command center, the politicians watched the signal vanish completely from their radar. The coffee cups shattered on the floor.
And in the ruins of the city, Zhizhi stared blankly at the sky. He knew his life had been saved.