The extremely dense darkness is dotted with bits and pieces of broken light, and huge fragments with sharp edges are spinning and shining.
As time went by, Mo Yi gradually discovered some strange holes in his memory, like ragged holes in a huge piece of fabric, and the whole piece of fabric was barely connected by the main fibers.
It’s not that he hasn’t carefully recalled his experiences and the past before—especially when he searched for Wen Chen’s existence in his memory, but for some reason, he never realized that there was anything wrong with his memory.
It was like some kind of cue to let him ignore the incongruity in his memory.
Mo Yi is very familiar with this method. This is how the game makes the memory of the dead players disappear. Obviously, this method is also used on himself, but what the game erases is not a certain person who was in his memory. Relevant information in memory—from now on, it seems to be all impressions related to that item.
And the pictures in these fragments are like key fibers, which are completely filled into the incomplete fabric in Mo Yi's mind. They are stretched and stretched, awakening the fuzzy memories hidden in his mind, tearing them apart. Picking up the broken fragments, complementing his memory bit by bit. Mo Yi didn't feel much when he touched the first fragment, but when he came back from the second fragment, he felt the change very clearly.
It was a sharp pain.
It was as if a sharp knife tip was churning wildly in his brain, as if some kind of barrier in the depths of his mind had been torn apart, and countless broken pictures poured into his mind like a flood that burst a bank, and the shocking violent pain cut mercilessly Nerves spread along his limbs, he shivered uncontrollably, and his whole body was drenched in cold sweat.
Consciousness seemed to become blurred in the pain.
Suddenly, he seemed to realize that he was standing in a small and dark space.
The moldy walls soaked by the humid climate are mottled and peeled off, giving off an unpleasant smell of decay, the enclosed air is turbid and foul-smelling, the dim and broken light shines from the top of the head, countless fine dusts are flying wildly, like trapped Flies are eagerly rushing into the invisible cage in front of them.
The tightly closed rusted iron door in front of him looked like some kind of dark and tall monster. The invisible pressure enveloped him so darkly that it was almost impossible to breathe. All the scenery around him seemed to be magnified into numbers. Similarly, everything looked so weird and bizarre in his eyes.
The cold and wet feeling seized him in an instant, and he lowered his head a little dullly—
A pair of malnourished, thin yellow and weak feet stood naked on the dirty and hard ground, and the small toes curled up helplessly, trembling.
Mo Yi's mind was in chaos, his hot temples throbbed violently, and he stretched out his hand subconsciously.
A pair of skinny hands that were also so skinny appeared in sight, the bony wrists seemed to be broken with a little force, the little fingers as thin as chicken feet were covered with mud, and the malnourished dark yellow skin on the arms was wrinkled , New and old scars piled on top of each other, the ugly scars hadn't disappeared yet, but there were new traces of flesh torn, the accumulation was shocking.
But other than that, it was still recognizable that it was a pair of children's hands.
He was conscious, but his whole body was trembling uncontrollably, and the numbness from the loss of body temperature almost made him feel no pain. The horrific memories that were intentionally forgotten finally burst through the closed door and rushed back into his mind. Mo Yi couldn't understand where he was more clearly—
This is the confinement room of the Ryder Orphanage.
The pitch-black iron door, which was so huge that it was almost a monster, let out an ear-piercing groan, and a pale light flowed in through the slowly expanding gap, illuminating the dark and turbid confinement room a little, and there were dark shadows moving around, blocking the projection. With the coming daylight, Mo Yi squinted his eyes hurt by the light and looked at the door, only to see a tall and bloated figure standing at the open door.
It seemed to be a blurred figure gathered together by the shadows of the past, mottled until there was only a hazy phantom, and the distant faces seemed to be obscured by a gray fog.
Mo Yi heard a voice as small as a gnat coming from his mouth:
"Miss… "
The shadow stretched out its distorted arms and pushed him forward. Mo Yi staggered and fell on the wet ground, and then got up on the ground with hands and feet together. His thin body was trembling with cold and hunger. The oil-stained apron shrouded in dense fog appeared in his sight, and the huge force stuck on his shoulders lifted him up, almost breaking his bones, and countless turbid thick fogs poured in to form countless or Tall or short crowd, rude and malicious small voices turned into sharp knives and pierced from all directions:
—"Thief" "Freak" "Thief"
Mo Yi seemed to be split into two extremes. His mature self was pulled away from his thin body, and he stood beside him expressionlessly, looking down on everything before him indifferently like a bystander. Curling up his scarred body in pain, the bubbling bright blood took away the temperature in his body, and he defended in a trembling and stubborn voice:
“… i made it…”
Behind that tall, twisted shadow was a child hiding, peering silently at him from behind her.
Mo Yi saw his young self bypassing the mottled and dirty corners and walking towards the deep darkness shrouded in thick fog. He saw himself lift up the thin quilt that was almost greasy into a hard shell, Lying quietly on the bed sheet was an ugly, bloated, disembowelled doll, a robot style that was popular decades ago. The fabric on the stomach was brutally cut, and the gray cotton was scattered on the gray On the bed, it seemed that someone mercilessly took out something from the inside, and then threw the shell aside indifferently.
He saw that he reached out and picked up the cotton puff carefully and stuffed it back into the doll's stomach, and then wrapped the rest of the fabric inward. Even so, a large piece of it was still dented on the doll's stomach, with flowers printed on it. The font also looks a bit comical due to deformation, but even so, the above content can still be read:
forever friends
Not far behind, the child made of shadows was quietly watching him from behind the thin wall.
Mo Yi saw himself staring at the doll in a daze, his pitch-black eyes looked surprisingly large on his face that was too thin to be out of shape, and the black holes almost made people feel frightened.
—He remembered how he had done it.
The fog shrouded in memory seemed to dissipate in an instant, and Mo Yi clearly recalled every scene in the past.
He watched his young self cherish the broken doll in his hands, turn around slowly, and walk step by step towards the figure peeking out not far away, then reached out and threw the doll in his hand to the place where he was sitting. into the trash can at the door, then turned and left indifferently.
Nothing in this world is important to him, and he is the same to anyone. If you never get it, you will never lose it.
never called forever fri