Chapter 1 Prologue: The Last Supper

AD 2020

Mount Everest

A rending roar echoed from afar.

Massive sheets of ice slid down the pitch-black peaks, plunging into the surging sea below.

The violent icy sea surged, billowing to unimaginable heights, as if it stretched all the way to the end of the world. Then, from the world's edge, a wind blew in, carrying the scent of ash and dust.

The world suddenly felt so small.

The towering sky seemed to press down, turning into pure white iron. Through the enormous cracks above, one could glimpse the stars in the universe, gradually dimming and going out.

Like lamps melting into darkness after losing power.

It seemed as if nothing remained between heaven and earth, and all that was left was this narrow platform—the highest in the world—and that makeshift work cabin.

A fishing rod was propped at the edge of the platform, its line cast into the sea, the bobber rising and falling in the murky water.

The bored angler, wearing a felt hat, lounged in his folding chair.

As if just passing the time, he even had an old chessboard with him, idly fiddling with the pieces, ignoring the constant rumbling and cracking in the distance.

As if ages had passed, both black and white pieces were hard to gather, ‘dwindling in number’; the last remaining ‘king’ and ‘bishop’ were chipped and incomplete, their surfaces riddled with cracks from the wear of time.

Even the chessboard was missing a large corner, the black and white squares twisted and blended together, forming a vast patch of chaotic gray.

Yet, surprisingly, no matter how the earth shook and mountains swayed, those chess pieces stood firm on their territory, never wavering in the slightest.

“President, NASA just sent a message—”

Assistant, wearing thick glasses, walked out of the cabin carrying the last of the luggage: “—The fourth settlement is complete, the New York Stock Exchange has finished uploading, and they're evacuating. They said they wish us good luck with our work.”

“They should have left long ago.”

President shook his head in annoyance. “That bunch at the Administration Bureau is such a pain, always dawdling, can't even move out properly.”

“They have to keep backups. After ‘Heaven’ fell, transferring data could only be done with hard drives.”

“Don’t be silly, kid.” President sneered. “Those guys just like the thrill of cutting it close, pretending to be so professional and punctual. Tch, being ten minutes early wouldn’t kill them.”

“Ahaha.”

Assistant laughed awkwardly and said nothing more. Coming closer, he saw a computer tossed beside the chessboard. Aside from two pages just searched for ‘how to fish in the Himalayas’, the screen only showed a real-time satellite cloud map.

A satellite from the old NASA, still stubbornly fulfilling its mission, transmitting the view from space back with meticulous precision.

Unfortunately, what appeared on the screen was no longer the beautiful stars of the past, but devastation.

Countless chaotic cyclones covered the entire blue expanse, and beneath those thick or thin typhoon clouds, what was revealed were patch after patch of shocking burns.

At the same time, a massive fissure slowly appeared on the satellite map—a line of crimson spreading across thousands of kilometers, rapidly extending, pulling at the withered continents and the black-gray oceans, finally stirring up a hurricane that tore another gash in the atmosphere.

“Is that an earthquake?”

Assistant exclaimed in astonishment, leaning in. “Amazing, I didn’t expect it to be so spectacular.”

President glanced up, then understood: “It’s a geothermal eruption. After the core started cooling, the third wave of tremors is being released from the North and South American plates. If left alone, it’ll probably end in about sixty years… Look, New York, it’s sunk into the sea.”

“What a shame, I never got to see the Statue of Liberty.”

“I’ve been there.”

President withdrew his gaze. “Honestly, it’s nothing special…”

Suddenly, a roar came from afar. Deep in the ocean, something seemed to glow, crimson rolling in the darkness, reflecting the searing pain from beneath the crust.

A scorching wind blew from the end of the sea, carrying gray dust and white mist, as if it was covering the whole world.

As if the entire world was being boiled by the sea.

“Really feels like teppanyaki,” President suddenly said.

“Hmm?”

“Teppanyaki. Didn’t I take you to try it last time? It was pretty good.”

President, seeming tired, lay back in his chair, covering his face with his hat as if preparing for a nap. His voice was soft, almost like a dream: “Back then, a friend from Yingzhou told me that teppanyaki actually comes in Kanto and Kansai styles. What most people eat is the Kanto kind—simple and convenient—but the truly wonderful one is the Kansai flavor.

Because at the start, they only brush a very thin layer of oil on the iron plate. As long as the temperature is high enough, the ingredients’ own fat will cook them through. They say that’s the only way to taste the natural freshness and true flavor of the food…”

Assistant was silent for a moment. “That sounds really cruel.”