Chapter 63 - 56: Eternal Night

Chapter 63: Chapter 56: Eternal Night

A blizzard, driven by gale-force winds, raged across the frozen land for three whole days.

During these three days, Xu Mo’s activities were completely confined to his shelter. He didn’t risk going up to the third floor, nor did he bother trying to observe the pointless outside world. All of his training—Pile Training, Power Control, and Cold Weapon Training—could only be conducted in the relative safety of the first-floor training room.

However, even indoors, Xu Mo could clearly sense the rapid deterioration of the environment outside. The roaring of the wind and snow never ceased, as if countless giant beasts were furiously ramming the building.

The change from below was even more palpable.

Xu Mo knew full well that he had long since sealed and reinforced the first-floor windows from the inside, but now, even through the walls, he could almost ’feel’ the heavy snow constantly piling up and pressing in.

At the top of the stairs leading to the first floor, the chill had intensified significantly, as if the area below was connected to a massive ice cellar. By the third day, when Xu Mo occasionally glanced down, he noticed fine wisps of snow beginning to seep in through the cracks around the door and the sealed windows near the first-floor entrance. This indicated that the vast majority of the first floor was likely completely filled or deeply buried by snow.

He roughly estimated that the snow outside had likely surpassed a depth of two meters. This meant the first floor was completely non-functional. Fortunately, Xu Mo’s main living area was on the second floor, where he had also stored most of his supplies in advance, so he hadn’t suffered any substantial losses.

The real challenge would come after the blizzard stopped.

At dusk on the third day, the blizzard that had raged outside for three days and three nights finally began to subside. The wind died down, and the sound of dense snowflakes pelting down also vanished, replaced by an absolute, heart-pounding silence where all was still.

Xu Mo waited for a while to confirm that the blizzard had truly passed before clearing the snow that had accumulated on the edges of the second-floor windows.

After doing this, Xu Mo went up to the roof. The scene before him made his breath catch in his throat.

The snow had stopped, but the world had not returned to "normal."

The sky was no longer leaden-gray, but had turned into a deeper, ink-black color that seemed to absorb all light. There were no clouds, no stars, no moon—only an endless, bottomless darkness, like a giant black velvet curtain shrouding the entire firmament.

Below, the world had been reshaped by snow. All the low-lying ruins, streets, and abandoned vehicles had vanished. As far as the eye could see, there was only an endless expanse of flat, pure white. Against the backdrop of absolute darkness, the surface of the snow actually gave off a faint, cold, ghostly glow. But this light was not enough to illuminate anything; it only served to accentuate the eerie stillness of the environment. The three-story building he was in stood like a lone island in a white ocean, its second floor just above the snowline, allowing him a glimpse of this dead, silent world.

There was no day.

The blizzard was over, but daylight did not arrive as expected.

The entire world had plunged into absolute darkness. Only the cold face of the watch on his wrist indicated to Xu Mo that it was supposed to be "morning."

Although he had long predicted this in his heart, even envisioning the possibility of an "Eternal Night," when it truly arrived, Xu Mo still felt a strong sense of unease and an indescribable feeling of oppression.

He wasn’t afraid of the dark—he had ample light sources. Nor was he afraid of the cold—he had enough fuel and a powerful physique.

This discomfort was more like an instinctive confusion and awe, born from the complete subversion of natural laws. To rise with the sun and rest at dusk was a rhythm etched into one’s very genes—night owls notwithstanding, of course. Now, the sun seemed to have completely "abandoned" this land. This feeling of being unmoored made time itself feel blurry and suspect.

Xu Mo stood by the window, gazing at the all-consuming, ink-black firmament and the snowfield below, silent for a long time. The wind was still biting, but it was much gentler than the blizzard before. The surroundings were terrifyingly quiet; even the occasional wolf howls he used to hear had vanished completely, as if he were truly the only person left in the world.

"It seems my worst fears have come true," Xu Mo muttered to himself, his voice sounding exceptionally clear in the absolute silence.

Xu Mo slowly exhaled a puff of white breath, watching it dissipate rapidly in the frigid air. ’Unsettling or not, I have to accept reality and keep going.’

After confirming the situation outside, Xu Mo returned to the training room. He turned on the radio, but it still produced a disappointing SHHHH of static. ’Looks like the signal hasn’t returned just because the snow stopped,’ he thought. ’Perhaps the ionospheric disturbance is ongoing, or maybe some shelters also ran into trouble during this extreme weather.’

Turning off the radio, Xu Mo slowly assumed the stance for Pile Training under the cold, steady light of an LED lamp. With the sun gone, Qi Collection yielded no results, but the training itself still needed to be done.

’No matter if it’s eternal day or Eternal Night outside, improving my own strength is the only path I can control, and the only one I must stick to.’

...

The radio broadcast came back on the fourth day after the blizzard ended.

Xu Mo, who was cleaning his guns while habitually fiddling with the radio, suddenly froze when the familiar CRACKLE of static was replaced by a clear human voice. He immediately turned up the volume and placed the radio beside him.

What came through wasn’t the usual information about supplies or survival tips, but the voice of an announcer—his tone unusually solemn, even tinged with a barely perceptible urgency—who was repeatedly stressing:

"Repeat, this is the Jiang City shelter broadcast. The Eternal Night is confirmed to have arrived. All survivors are urged to maintain a high level of alert. Do not go outside unless absolutely necessary! If you must go out, you must, I repeat, you *must* ensure you have a stable and long-lasting light source! Be warned, this is not ordinary darkness. Prolonged exposure to a lightless environment can lead to severe mental derangement, hallucinations, and even irreversible cognitive damage! I repeat, you must carry illumination when going outside..."

"Repeating again, this is the Jiang City shelter broadcast. The Eternal Night is confirmed to have arrived..."

Xu Mo’s brow furrowed slightly as he listened intently. ’The focus of this warning isn’t just the inconvenience and potential dangers of the darkness itself,’ he mused, ’but a greater emphasis on the effect of a "lightless environment" on the "mind".’

"Illumination... mental derangement?" Xu Mo repeated the keywords under his breath, a flash of understanding and renewed gravity in his eyes. He had previously only thought the Eternal Night would cause psychological depression, but he hadn’t considered that it could directly lead to such severe physiological or mental consequences.

Soon, the channel switched to the frequency for Rock Base, broadcasting almost the exact same message. With two shelters issuing such a clear and consistent warning simultaneously, its authenticity and importance were beyond doubt.

After repeating the warning several times, the announcer’s tone softened slightly as he added another piece of information:

"According to current observational data and scientific speculation, this global Eternal Night phenomenon is expected to last for some time, although the exact duration cannot yet be accurately predicted. However, we can confirm that when the Eternal Night ends and daylight returns, global temperatures are projected to rise significantly, and the current extreme cold is expected to ease. We urge all survivors to maintain hope, hold fast in your shelters, conserve resources, and wait for the dawn..."

This predictive message was like a faint glimmer of light trying to pierce the endless darkness, offering a sliver of hope to those in despair. Rising temperatures—that was undoubtedly one of the things every survivor struggling in the bitter cold most longed to hear.

Xu Mo silently turned off the radio. The training room returned to silence, illuminated only by the steady white light of the LED lamp.

He walked to the window and looked out at the snowfield again. The broadcast from Jiang City had confirmed two of his suspicions: the Eternal Night had arrived, and the extreme cold was not permanent. But at the same time, it brought a new, more concrete threat—the corrosion of the mind by the darkness itself.

’So light sources... aren’t just for seeing, but also for protecting one’s sanity,’ Xu Mo mused. ’My reserves of batteries and fuel are fairly plentiful, enough for long-term use inside the shelter. But I’ll have to be more meticulous with rationing. And if I’m forced to go outside in the future... then the reliability and endurance of my light source will be directly tied to my survival, perhaps even more important than my weapons.’

Xu Mo glanced back at the steady light indoors, and his heart settled slightly.