"Perhaps you need to undergo an emergency detection? Initial contact with abyssal materials can indeed lead to various... adverse reactions."
He took a small mental state detector from the medical kit, the silver metal casing reflecting a bizarre glow under the bloody light:
"These symptoms aren’t uncommon among newcomers. Initial symptoms of spiritual contamination include auditory hallucinations, visual hallucinations, and excessive sensitivity to non-existent threats. If not treated promptly..."
Falko didn’t finish, but everyone present knew the consequences of that "if."
The "special containment area" of the observation station housed too many "former colleagues" who had lost their human form due to spiritual contamination.
Wayne, the supervisor, had already begun to activate the portable erosion detector he carried with him.
This precision equipment emitted a low hum, and the internal rune array started rapidly heating up, ready to conduct a comprehensive abyssal erosion detection on Ron.
"Ralph, cooperate with the detection, this is standard procedure."
Wayne’s tone was gentle, yet it bore an unmistakable sense of refusal:
"If the erosion response does lead to perception anomalies, we need to immediately initiate treatment procedures. The sooner it’s identified, the greater the chance of recovery."
He paused, the petrified half of his face twitching slightly:
"You should know what the consequences of delaying treatment are."
Facing colleagues’ doubts and the impending forced detection, Ron maintained an iceberg-like absolute calm inwardly.
The years of persistent research and meditation had taught him how to maintain rational thinking in the most chaotic situations.
He knew his perception was correct; the threat of chaotic spirit monsters was closing in at a terrifying speed.
The spatial distortion’s fluctuation was intense enough to make him feel mildly nauseous, a direct impact of high-intensity space manipulation on the spirit.
But under these circumstances, excessive explanation would only be deemed further evidence of "mental anomalies."
"There’s no time for these procedures!"
Ron’s voice became more urgent; he could sense the spatial distortion was approaching a critical point.
The terrifying force on the verge of tearing reality made every nerve in his body frantically alert:
"Believe me, or don’t believe me, but please immediately activate all defense protocols! Ten seconds... nine seconds... eight seconds..."
While he accurately counted down, he rapidly checked his equipment configuration.
The tactical pack on his waist, the emergency runes at his cuff, the talisman on his chest... each item was confirmed for status and usage order in an instant.
This near-mechanical preparation instead made other team members feel more uneasy.
In their eyes, Ron’s current behavior perfectly matched the typical symptoms of "abyssal spiritual contamination":
Over-sensitivity, paranoid delusions, compulsive behavior patterns.
Copper Ring explorer James, nearby, even had his hand on his weapon, ready to subdue the "out-of-control" newcomer if necessary.
"Five seconds... four seconds... three seconds..."
Right when Wayne, the supervisor, sighed and prepared to forcibly start the detection procedure, the entire environment within the spatial bubble suddenly underwent a terrifying upheaval.
The space began to twist at a visibly alarming speed as if stirred by an invisible giant hand into a viscous liquid.
The distortion wasn’t a common physical phenomenon but a fundamental change in the structure of reality under some incomprehensible force.
The surface of the bloody shallow, that layer of seemingly calm deep-red liquid, suddenly surged with bizarre ripples against all physical laws.
These ripples didn’t spread outward but shrank inward, forming multiple small whirlpools.
What was more unsettling was the completely different color at the center of each whirlpool:
Some were pure black, like paths to nothingness;
Some were dazzling white light, impossible to gaze at directly;
And others were colors indescribable by human language, causing inexplicable fear just by sight.
"Warning! Spatial anomaly detected! Threat level: Extremely high!"
The alarm system of "Watcher-7" finally activated, its piercing alarm echoing within the bloody shallow, akin to the wails of hell.
The head of the mechanical construct began spinning wildly, with seventeen different types of sensors flashing an intense red light simultaneously, emitting urgent buzzing sounds.
But it was all too late.
The synthesized voice of "Watcher-7" began broadcasting detailed data, but each number denied reality:
"Space stability: 12%, continuing to decline!
Energy fluctuation intensity: Beyond measurable range!
Time flow anomaly: Detected multiple concurrent time flows!
Threat level: Unknown entity!
Recommendation: Immediate evacuation! Recommendation: Immediate evacuation!"
At the precise moment Ron’s countdown ended, the spatial pocket in the northeast direction suddenly tore open into a several meters long, irregular rift.
The existence of this rift itself was a desecration of the concept of three-dimensional space. It had length and width but its depth was infinite.
The edges of the rift flickered with "colors" that shouldn’t exist, lights not reflected but directly projected from another dimension into reality.
From this wound in reality, a haunting figure emerged slowly—chaotic spirit monster.
If other beings in the abyss still retained some recognizable biological characteristics, then chaotic spirit monsters were a complete negation of the concept of "life."
It didn’t have a fixed form; its body seemed composed purely of chaotic concepts.