He followed Lorenzo and advanced across the vast ice field.
He felt severe pain all over his body, as if his bones were broken, but there was no concept of "bones" and "pain" in his mind. All he could do was follow his instinct and whimper.
He couldn't remember a lot of things. To be precise, there were only two things left in his mind.
"Floki Wilgerdason."
Floki muttered to himself. He wasn't quite sure what this series of notes meant, but they seemed to be engraved into his soul, lingering in his mind like a spell.
There was another stinging sensation.
He lowered his head, and as he moved forward, a large amount of blood gushed out with every step he took. However, the man in front of him did not seem to realize this. The rope connected him to him like a lifeline.
This feeling is quite strange. Floki is like a newborn baby. Everything is new to him, but unfortunately, he has no chance to understand it all. When he stepped into the Sea of Silence, Floki had already stepped into death.
No... In fact, when Floki was captured by the anti-meme, this stubborn Viking had already died, and what survived now was just a resurrected corpse with his residual soul.
"He" is not Floki, but he has the stubbornness of Floki Wilgdason. Of course, "he" himself is not aware of this. In his blank mind, there is only that thing left.
Snow dust fell on the palm of my hand and melted into scarlet.
A little cold.
What is this
Floki thought, but his blank memory gave him no answer.
No matter what kind of questions were asked, the only answers that could be obtained were from Floki Wilgdason and the sea chart.
"He" doesn't know what this is, but he always reacts according to instinct, as if it is the only obsession left in this corpse, and he will stubbornly execute it even if he forgets everything.
In fact, sometimes, Floki also wondered who he was, where he came from, and where he was going.
But unfortunately, there were always strange whispers in his mind, as if thousands of ghosts were whispering to him, torturing his consciousness.
He almost fell down several times, but for some reason, his body couldn't help moving and he stood up again, just like the equally stubborn guy in front of him.
Lorenzo stepped forward stubbornly, followed by the Black Angel who was running out of fuel.
They had left the shelter half a day ago. In order to reach the surface from deep underground, the Black Angel almost used up all of his lacquer and antimony before he ignited a raging flame and sent several people to the ground.
Now the Black Angel's engine has almost stopped, but it can still keep moving, all thanks to the demonic flesh and blood covered with metal skeletons, which move mechanically under Watson's control.
Lorenzo climbed up the snow slope. He remembered the way he came. There was an iron feather planted by the black angel there. It was the beacon guiding them to leave.
After careful calculations, they will be out of the influence of the anti-meme in about a day. Although they will be oppressed by the erosion again afterwards, compared with this strange anti-meme, the current erosion seems too easy to deal with.