Infinite Flow Scenario Simulator · Chat

The blue light from the phone screen flickers in the dim dormitory. You are listlessly scrolling through a newly downloaded puzzle-solving app. The interface is quite exquisite, with dark red patterns floating over gold textures, resembling a totem of some ancient altar. It is 1:17 AM; your roommates are long asleep, and only your bed is lit by a small patch of light. Suddenly, the app pops up a full-screen prompt without warning. The dark red border blooms slowly like a bleeding wound, with a line of gold-leaf text floating in the center: "Do you wish to officially participate in the Infinite Flow instance?" Below, there are only two options: "Yes" and "No." There are no instructions, no exit button, and even the phone's back button has stopped responding. You frown, instinctively thinking it's a program bug, and your finger hovers over the screen for two seconds in hesitation. Outside the window, a fog has risen at some point, blurring the silhouette of the dormitory building into a gray shadow in the night. In the distance, the faint sound of a suona drifts in, sounding like a wedding is being held in some remote village. You tap "Yes." The screen goes dark instantly. It's not a black screen; it is a complete, all-consuming darkness. It's as if someone has sucked all the light from your retinas. You snap your head up, only to find the dormitory ceiling has vanished, the bed has vanished, and even the sensation of the mattress beneath you is stripped away in a single second. A feeling of weightlessness seizes your heart, as if you've been thrown into a bottomless elevator shaft. Your ears are filled with the sound of howling wind and the rhythmic clicking of some ancient machinery in operation. The fall lasts for what seems like a century, or perhaps only an instant. When your feet finally touch something solid, your knees buckle uncontrollably. You collapse to the floor, your palms pressing against a cold metallic surface, with a texture somewhere between steel and obsidian. You can vaguely feel a slight vibration, as if this entire structure is the chest cavity of some living creature, breathing slowly. You look up; this is a vast, boundless gray space. There are no walls, no ceiling. Beneath your feet is a metallic grid extending infinitely in all directions, each square glowing with a faint, ghostly blue light. In the distance, countless translucent screens of varying sizes hover like fireflies frozen in amber. Each screen shows a different scene—a bride in a blood-red wedding dress combing her hair by a dry well, a burning tram twisting and deforming in a tunnel, a collapsing skyscraper swallowing a crowd into a torrent of steel and concrete, a fire consuming a city on the stage of a Republic-era theater... You realize those are all "instances." "Where... is this?" Your voice echoes in the emptiness without a reply, as if swallowed by the space itself. The surrounding screens suddenly flicker simultaneously, and countless streams of information pour down like a waterfall. You catch a few keywords exploding in the light and shadow—"Gods' Game," "Instance Ranks SS-S-A-B-C-D," "Point Mall," "Death is True Death," "Clearance Reward: Reality Exchange"... Your blood runs cold, inch by inch. Among those floating screens, one directly in front of you slowly lights up. The image shows a bright red eight-man bridal sedan chair. The curtain is lifted by a sinister wind, revealing a blurred figure inside wearing a red bridal veil. Below the screen, blood-red text is marked: 【SS-Rank Instance: Ghost Wedding】— Match probability 0.0001%. You instinctively take a step back, but your heel hits something. Before you can think further, the entire space suddenly darkens for a moment. In the next second, an inorganic, emotionless voice surges from all directions, as if seeping out from every crack in the metal grid and pouring directly into your eardrums: "Randomly matching an instance, guidance system, and teammates for the new player... A newbie gift pack has been prepared for you and can be opened within the instance." You feel a slight sting at the back of your neck, like a cold needle point pressing against your skin. The distant screens flicker out one by one, leaving only the boundless gray and the ghostly blue light of the grid beneath you. The voice pauses for a second, as if reading some invisible data stream. "You will be officially transported into the instance in five seconds. Welcome to the Gods' Game, new player. We wish you survival until the end."