My Talent's Name Is Generator - Chapter 783 Trapped

Chapter 783  Trapped

The moment we stepped out of the relay portal, something felt wrong.

There was no delay. No window to adjust.

A shrill alarm tore through the dead planet’s thin atmosphere the instant our feet touched ground. It wasn’t sound alone, it carried intent, a sharp command embedded inside it, as if the base itself was screaming that intruders had arrived.

Red light washed over everything.

I looked up.

The planet beneath us was lifeless, its surface cracked and gray, scarred by impacts. But hovering far above the ground were three massive spheres, each the size of a mountain. They floated in perfect stillness, suspended by nothing I could see, their surfaces constantly releasing thick streams of deathmist that poured downward like inverted waterfalls.

The mist didn’t spread randomly.

It moved with purpose.

Steve’s expression tightened. “Those things aren’t generators, are they?”

“No,” I said slowly. My perception was already pushing outward, colliding with something vast and oppressive. “They’re anchors.”

North swallowed. “For what?”

Before I could answer, the world shifted.

Pressure slammed down from above, not physical weight, but something far worse. Reality itself felt thinner, weaker, as if it were being scraped away layer by layer.

A domain.

This one was meant to erase.

The air screamed.

Everything that wasn’t aligned with deathmist began to react violently. The ground cracked beneath our feet as essence unraveled. Space distorted in uneven waves, and for the first time in a long while, my control over the surroundings faltered.

Knight hissed softly. “This domain… it’s rejecting us.”

Lyrate staggered half a step. Aurora stiffened, her elemental form flickering unstable.

I didn’t hesitate.

“Back,” I ordered. “All of you.”

They turned toward me instantly.

“Core. Now.”

There was no argument. One by one, my summons vanished, pulled back into the Dawn Core as the pressure intensified. The domain was getting stronger by the second, adapting, narrowing its focus.

Steve clenched his jaw. “What the hell? I can not go to your core.”

“I’m not sending you away,” I said. “I’m keeping you alive.”

I raised both hands.

Deathmist surged from the Star of Origin, dark and dense, pouring outward like a flood. It wrapped around us, forming a dome that sealed us off from the domain’s erasure effect. The pressure didn’t disappear, but it stabilized enough that we could breathe again.

North exhaled shakily. “That… that thing is trying to delete us.”

“Yes,” I said. “The runes are acting to erase anyone who isn’t aligned with the deathmist.”

The dome trembled as the domain pressed against it, testing, probing.

I looked ahead.

The base came into focus now that the shock had passed.

It wasn’t built into the planet.

It was docked to it.

A colossal spaceship rested on the surface like a city-sized predator, its hull layered with black metal and shifting runes. Massive thrusters were embedded along its underside, clearly designed for immediate evacuation. This wasn’t a fortress meant to stand its ground.

It was a mobile command hub.

And it was active.

Figures poured out onto the platforms surrounding the ship. Phantoms, dozens of them, moving with sharp discipline. Transcendents from other races stood among them, their auras suppressed but ready.

And then I felt them.

Two presences that didn’t belong.

Eternals.

Steve’s voice dropped. “Two.”

“I know,” I replied.

The deathmist spheres above pulsed.

A voice echoed across the battlefield, amplified by the domain itself.

“Intruders detected within relay space.”

The tone was calm. Almost bored.

“Containment protocol initiated.”

The domain intensified.

The deathmist dome around us began to creak under the strain.

North looked at me. “Can you shut it down?”

“Not quickly,” I answered honestly. “Whoever built this understands domains better than me it seems.”

That earned a sharp look from Steve. “Saints?”

“Yes. And not any ordinary ones. They don’t want this place to be lost it seems.”

The ship’s hull split open.

Two figures stepped forward, their forms humanoid but wrong in the way only Eternals were. Their bodies were smooth and grey, their eyes dark and reflective like polished obsidian. One carried a long, narrow sword that hummed with flickering Essence. The other had nothing in his hands at all.

“So,” the unarmed one said, his voice cutting cleanly through the domain’s roar. “You are the anomaly.”

His gaze fixed on me.

“The one disrupting our operations. We were expecting you.”

I tilted my head slightly. “You’re quick.”

“We had to be,” the second Eternal replied. “You destroyed two local nodes and a relay host.”

Steve muttered, “Host?”

“You’re overreacting,” I said calmly. “This base isn’t going to survive anyway.”

The first Eternal smiled faintly. “It already has.”

The three spheres above flared.

The domain spiked.

For a moment, the deathmist dome buckled inward, compressing space around us so tightly that Steve dropped to one knee.

North gritted her teeth. “Billion—”

“I know.”

I planted my foot into the ground.

Deathmist continued to circulate through my channels, no longer fighting the domain, but moving in rhythm with it. I wasn’t trying to overwhelm what surrounded us. I was learning how it functioned.

That was when movement caught my attention.

Five figures rose from the outer platforms and floated forward, separating themselves from the rest of the force. Their auras were unmistakable, Transcendents, each from a different race. I recognized the signatures almost instinctively. An Elemental whose body shimmered faintly with layered laws. An Avian with metallic feathers folded tight against his back. An Aqua whose lower half was encased in a liquid shell that never spilled. And among them—

A Feran.

His eyes were fixed on me, not hostile, but openly unsettled.

“That’s deathmist,” he said slowly, disbelief heavy in his voice. “How is a human using deathmist?”

The others didn’t answer him, but I felt the same question ripple through them.

That was when I noticed it.

A faint green glow surrounded each of the five, barely visible unless one knew where to look. It wasn’t a barrier in the traditional sense. It didn’t block force or deflect attacks. It simply existed, perfectly tuned, allowing them to remain untouched by the domain’s erasure.

‘Interesting.’

I activated Right to Insight.

The world peeled back.

Runes unfolded before my eyes, layered atop one another in complex patterns that hovered just beneath the surface of the green glow.

“This shield,” I murmured, mostly to myself as the runes unfolded layer by layer before my eyes, “isn’t resisting deathmist at all. It’s deceiving it.”

Steve turned his head sharply, lightning flickering once along his arm. “Deceiving how, exactly?”

“It isn’t blocking corruption,” I explained calmly. “It’s presenting a false signature. To the domain, they don’t look like foreign existences. They look… authorized.”

North’s eyes narrowed. “So they’re not immune.”

“No,” I replied. “They’re permitted to exist here. That permission can be revoked.”

The unarmed Eternal let out a soft, almost appreciative chuckle, folding his hands behind his back as if watching an experiment unfold exactly as hoped.

“Perceptive,” he said. “Far more perceptive than most beings at your stage. You’re not merely surviving the domain, you’re trying to figure out and escape it.”