Tired, sore, and sleepy.
The Shrike was probably too tired. The moment he lay down on the bed, his tense muscles relaxed and his highly concentrated thoughts were released. He fell asleep easily and slept so deeply that he lay on the bed like a corpse.
Normally, the Shrike would have a comfortable sleep and wake up leisurely after a few hours, as if he had been reborn. Unfortunately, the environment in which the Shrike fell asleep was different this time. He was already in the Sea of Silence. Invisible erosion was always lingering around him, and he could not be immune even if he fell asleep.
Invisible hands gently rubbed Shrike's head, adding a hateful hue to this peaceful dream, burning all the beauty and leaving only the hideous gray.
Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, Shrike's breathing became heavy, and his limbs were slightly tense, as if he was facing a powerful enemy in his dream.
The sound of splashing water was heard, coming from far away, followed by the clanging of metal. At first they were also far away, but the sounds gradually became sharper and clearer, as if they were approaching the Shrike.
Shrike was a little annoyed. These things disturbed his sleep, but he didn't know where these things came from. He ignored them and lay on the ground obediently, trying to fall into a deeper dream.
"Wake up! Shrike!"
Someone was talking in his ear, but Shrike couldn't hear what he was saying, so he covered his ears, changed his position, and continued to sleep.
But the sound did not stop. It continued to echo around the Shrike, over and over again.
"Shrike! Shrike!"
The man kept calling out until he lost all his patience and roared in anger.
"Wake up! Shrike!"
The Shrike woke up with a start, only to feel a huge force. Someone dragged the Shrike up. He opened his eyes, and the storm and thunder covered every corner of his field of vision. The cold rain hit his face, driving away his sleepiness, and then the pain in his body continued to intensify it.
"Shrike! Hold on!"
The familiar face roared at him, and Shrike looked over, only to see the rain spreading across his face as if he was crying.
"Lancelot?"
When Shrike read out his name, he felt something was wrong, but he couldn't tell what was wrong. He was like a puppet, being controlled by Lancelot, who forced him to stand up and then stuffed weapons into his hands.
"Hold on, we can get out!"
Lancelot spoke again, his words trembling a little, but still speaking firmly, as if he wanted to convince himself of this.
Shrike looked elsewhere, and now there was only fear on his sleepy face.
He was on a huge ship, a huge ship that came from the depths of his memory.
The Narwhal ran at full power, breaking through the sea water and ice, and crushing all the demons howling in the sea. Corpses and broken limbs were splashed with the waves, and blood dyed the sea and gathered into groups of black mist. It advanced all the way, unstoppable, following the trajectory from the sky.
The channel appeared, and a brilliant aurora penetrated the sky and the earth. It was so bright that even the roaring and rolling storm could not block its light. It pointed the waypoint and led the Narwhal to escape from the sea.