——When the price of salvation is becoming a monster
The moment folklorist Su Zhou touched the ancient mirror, he fell into the abyss shrouded in eternal night.
There is no sun or moon here, only floating ashes of flesh and blood and wandering weirdness:
The corpses in the morgue will walk when the lights are turned off, and the coffins in Arasukahara will choose their grooms by themselves.
The news on the radio is peeling your skin off.
Human beings huddle in fortress cities, exchanging blood and memory for power:
Some people gouge out their eyeballs and insert them into abacus to calculate their debts, some people refine the curse of the Graveweeper Boy into a weapon.
More people knelt down to worship the sleeping ancient god, praying to share in the remnants of his awakening feast.
There was a cold gear in Su Zhou's left eye——
Cognitive rules, pollution will corrode an inch of flesh and blood;
Use power, and the emotions will peel off and break apart.
When he grasped the bronze key that opened the resting place of the ancient gods,
There are only two carvings left in front of me:
Burn the remaining reason and turn it into fireworks to illuminate the dawn;
Or strip away the last bit of humanity and become the fourth pillar in the eternal night of Xuyuan.
"The heroic statues erected on the ruins have no faces——
Because the sculptor did not dare to reproduce those treacherous eyes that shed tears when staring into the abyss. "
