When Wei Xichen awoke, his nostrils were already choked with the stench of decay. He opened his eyes, but instead of a ceiling, he saw a wall that heaved like living flesh—a visceral, fluorescent crimson.
He pushed himself up, his palms pressing against a slick, slimy floor that felt like treading on internal organs. He scanned his surroundings. The space was small, a claustrophobic chamber the size of a boardroom. The walls and floor were composed of living tissue, with translucent veins pulsating across the ceiling. He didn't know where he was, but every instinct screamed that something was wrong.
Yuan Liheng, his colleague from Yuan's Heavy Industries, lay beside him. He had also awakened, his face deathly pale. Their eyes met. No words were exchanged, but both understood: this was not where they had died, and this was not Earth.
In the center of the room stood a device. Iron-gray and U-shaped, its metallic hull was scarred and tangled with conduits—a stark, mechanical intrusion within this biological nightmare.
"...Where are we?" Yuan Liheng asked.
"I don't know," Wei Xichen replied. He stared at the machine, his fingers instinctively reaching for the spot behind his ear. A cold, metallic touch made him freeze instantly.
—The Emotion Processor.
As a maintenance technician, that was a small piece of hardware he hadn't finished repairing. It shouldn't have been on his head. But now, it was not only embedded in his skull but fused with his flesh. He tried to pull it away, only to find it clinging to him like a living parasite.
Even more bizarre, a shard of green glass was embedded in the back of everyone's hand, emitting a faint, sickly glow.
"Weren't we... dead?" Yuan Liheng muttered.
Wei didn't answer.
In the next heartbeat, the fleshy wall tore open, and a Jellyfish drifted in.
Two meters tall, translucent, and glowing with an eerie cerulean light. It had no face, yet everyone felt its "gaze" sweeping over them.
"Carbon-based lifeforms, you have been chosen," the Jellyfish spoke. Its voice was deep and moist, carrying an unquestionable authority.
It declared the mission, recited the rules, and demonstrated the punishment—a man who roared in defiance was instantly dissolved into a pool of liquid by a tentacle. They understood then: there would be no negotiations.
This was overwhelming control. This was an experiment.
Wei Xichen did not back down. He stepped forward to demand the Jellyfish's purpose, but his Emotion Processor suddenly overloaded. His emotions were forcibly amplified, plunging him into a frantic state of obsession and paranoia. He began to interrogate the Jellyfish for the truth, speculating aloud if the very laws of the universe could be rewritten.
The Jellyfish did not stop him. It simply observed. Then, out of sheer "interest," it bestowed a weapon—a handgun forged from a fusion of biology and machinery, which merged directly into the glass shard on the back of his hand.
Was this a reward? Or a curse?
Finally, a spatial rift tore open above the U-shaped device. The Jellyfish commanded them to step inside to complete their "Mission."
No one moved.
Wei Xichen took the first step, with Yuan Liheng following close behind. The rift writhed like a living creature. Before being swallowed by the light, Wei caught sight of a row of blurred engravings on the edge of the machine:
Parallel Worlds.
This was the beginning. What they didn't know was that the power of choice had never belonged to them.