The dusk of New Babylon bleeds under the tweezers of memory. When Lu Zhao was wiping the seventh corpse, the glass jar in his pocket suddenly buzzed—the sister who was formatted three years ago was using the folds of her cerebral cortex to spell out quantum prophecies.
Neon grows in reverse direction into Cthulhu's synapses, and submarine cables carry the brain waves of the earth's fetal movement. The Eternal One cut his consciousness into seven knives hanging from his neck, and the Cyborg cultists used prosthetic bodies to weld the scars of the starry sky. When the entire floating city began to fold, Lu Zhao's retina split and turned into a Klein bottle: the coordinates frozen in the pupils of the dead were originally scabs from the umbilical cord of civilization.
"Brother, this is our creation." The pale tissue in the nutrient solution suddenly stretched and resonated with the ancient pupils rising from the bottom of the sea.
(One story per volume, extra chapters will be written after each volume)
