[Lawrence, you have finally reached the end of the prophecy. ]
[You are about to die.]
[How sad.]
Perhaps due to excessive blood loss, Lawrence's already broken consciousness became even heavier, and strange and evil voices continued to ring out, as if an invisible devil was lingering beside him, demanding his soul.
soul…
Thinking of this, Lawrence forced an ugly smile on his face.
Did he really still have that noble soul? He couldn't remember the exact time, but he knew that precious thing had long been abandoned by him in exchange for the way forward and the cornerstone to fill the abyss.
As a believer, he was not qualified to go to heaven, and he had already prepared for such an outcome.
Soon the whispers gradually faded and dissipated. They were fading away, and the world began to become silent. Chaotic hallucinations appeared before his eyes. Lawrence could see pair after pair of bloody hands reaching out from the pool of blood beneath him, grabbing him, and trying to drag him little by little into the pool of blood, into the depths of hell.
Lawrence was dazed for a moment. He had already prepared himself mentally, but when such an ending really came, he couldn't help but find it a little ridiculous.
The New Pope… The Unspeakable is right.
Lawrence himself was a believer who abandoned his faith, but afterwards, he found a pillar for himself that was similar to faith.
prophecy.
The prophecy enabled Lawrence to overcome numerous obstacles and made him invincible. It became the sharpest spear in Lawrence's hand, but also turned into the heaviest shackles that bound Lawrence tightly.
Every time he crawled out of death, every time he was resurrected, the "curse" of the prophecy deepened. Until now, the prophecy has really come true. He will no longer have the power to resist and will be ridiculously dragged into the abyss of hell.
"How ironic..."
Lawrence laughed at himself, and only now did he suddenly wake up. He had been mocking the nihilistic faith, but in the end, he had become a devout fanatic and a slave to fate.
The heads of the dead poked out from the sea of blood, with familiar faces on them. Lawrence vaguely remembered these faces. They were the people who died because of him. The fragments of memory were piled up in the corner of his [gap]. Now, as he was dying, they burst out together.
Gnawing, scratching, screaming, and calling out names together.
[Lawrence! How are you going to pay your debt!]
The body was crushed bit by bit by the bloody hands. Lawrence stretched out his hands and tried to resist, but the power to break steel and split stone was gone. He was as fragile as an old mortal and was dragged into the blood.
Large amounts of blood filled his mouth and nose. He was more miserable than ever before. He struggled hard, raising his hands high like a drowning traveler.
Such a powerless struggle soon ended, and he was dragged into the thick blood. Looking towards the bottom of the water, a scarlet world came into view. Countless dead were crawling on the ground, and they were as numerous as a sea of sand.
The sand piles up to form a tall tower.
The scarlet figures overlapped with each other. There were thousands and countless of them. One layer supported another layer, forming a towering Tower of Babel. They climbed up from the bottom of the water and grabbed Lawrence.