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墨書 Inktalez
As dawn broke, the blizzard finally ceased. The SWAT team and medical personnel arrived at the scene, beginning the rescue of those trapped in the glass chamber. Most of them had survived, though they would need some time to recover.
"Captain Jiang, how did you find this place?" I asked Jiang Zhendong.
"Thanks to this." He pulled a fragment of a bronze mask from his pocket, the very piece he had brought back from Mount Fuji. It seemed to sense similar energy. "I tracked my way here using it."
He held the fragment in his palm. In the morning sunlight, the runes still glimmered faintly.
"What about Yamada's body?" Zhou Jing inquired.
"Like that monster," Honda Miho said, "it was soaked in blood. But unlike Mount Fuji, they have truly vanished this time."
Ivanov was conversing with the SWAT Captain. His injuries were minor, but his expression was grave. "According to the information on-site, this is not the last base."
"What do you mean?"
"The Yamamoto Family's plan goes far beyond this." He pointed to a document. "They have established similar altars around the world. While several have already been destroyed, there are still some hidden deeply."
"And," Honda Miho added, "we still don't know what exactly they intend to summon."
She gazed at the sky. Although the rift had disappeared, everyone remembered that gaze from the abyss—an ancient and malevolent stare that seemed to foretell a terrible fate.
"At least," Jiang Zhendong said, "we've stopped this disaster."
"Yes, we have," I replied. But looking at those rescued children and recalling the tragedies of Changling Village and Mount Fuji, along with the secret bases still operating around the world, I knew this battle was far from over.
"What’s next?" Zhou Jing asked.
"We continue our investigation," I said firmly. "As long as there is one child in danger, we cannot stop."
Honda Miho nodded. "I've already contacted some reliable friends. They will help us trace other leads."
"I will continue my investigation here in Russia," Ivanov said. "There are still too many secrets buried beneath this land."
Suddenly, Jiang Zhendong's phone rang. It was a call from Qingzhou.
"Not good," his voice was urgent. "The masks discovered under the hospital ruins have all vanished!"
We exchanged worried glances. Could there be others operating in the shadows?
At that moment, I noticed a line of writing in the snow. It was written in blood, but strangely, the blood did not coagulate; instead, it flowed continuously, forming different words:
"The ritual is not yet complete; the shadow of the god has already descended."
A cold wind swept by, and the blood letters disappeared. But everyone knew this was not the end; it was merely the beginning. A greater conspiracy was unfolding, and we would have to continue our fight against dark forces.
In the distance, the morning sun slowly rose, casting golden rays upon the snow-covered ground. Yet, unbeknownst to anyone, behind this blinding light lay countless secrets waiting to be uncovered.
Jiang Zhendong's phone rang again. This time, it was an email from the bureau, with a simple subject line consisting of just three words: "The Mission."
They were about to embark on their journey.
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