The arrow reminded An Wujiu of the sacrifice at dusk, he suppressed the discomfort in his heart, left the bed, and followed the instructions step by step.
He could feel the cold wind passing through the corridor lift his cloak, and he could see that the arrow was bent, so An Wujiu leaned on the wall and turned to the temple.
But what An Wujiu couldn't see was that the huge stone sculpture behind the stone screen came to life at this moment, and the thousands of snake eyes on its body were turning with An Wujiu's slow-moving body at this moment. All of them glow with a faint blue light.
Walking forward, An Wujiu suddenly heard the sound of a stone cracking, so he slightly turned his head towards the source of the sound.
The sound cut off.
He didn't know that at this moment, the tip of the tentacle on the stone carving had stretched out in front of him, only a few feet away from his temporarily blind pupil.
An Wujiu faintly sensed the danger, but he pretended to be ignorant, turned his head, and continued walking forward.
The tentacles stayed in place and did not continue to follow him.
The stone gate of the temple was already open, An Wujiu followed the direction of the arrow all the way forward, left the temple, and walked towards the sacrifice mountain.
The uphill road should have been much easier than at dusk, after all he was alone at this moment, without a sarcophagus on his shoulders, but An Wujiu felt extremely heavy. It was as if many hands were tugging at his legs and ankles, making it difficult for him to move forward.
The sound of wind and snow whizzed by, An Wujiu vaguely heard a different sound.
It was mother's voice.
[You have to remember how your father died. ]
The moment the shattering sound disappeared, a scarlet and terrifying scene suddenly flashed in An Wujiu's dark vision.
It was his father lying in a pool of blood, with bleary eyes and a happy smile on his mouth, but nothing else. There was only an empty hole in his chest, bubbling blood, and he was clutching a still beating heart.
An Wujiu shook his head in a daze, but the scene couldn't dissipate no matter what. He tried to close his eyes, his father's cold body was still displayed in front of him.
Those forgotten childhood shadows come back to An Wujiu's mind little by little, whether he wants to think about it or not.
Father cut himself off with his own hands.
He clearly saw it all with his own eyes, but he forgot all of it.
An Wujiu's brain is like a broken mirror, the countless fragments in the mirror all reflect the same picture - his father opened the dusty book in front of him, read a strange language to him, he Destroyed all his books, his life's research.
"It's all fake... all fake..."
The father's madness was extremely calm. He calmly destroyed the data, and the blue flame in the lighter burned those precious documents.
"No one can be transformed into their enemy, and no one can resist his return."
The young An Wujiu approached his father in a daze, "Father, who are they?"
His father didn't even look at him, as if he didn't exist, he just whispered to himself.
"No savior, no, no."
His expression was so calm, but the veins on his neck twisted and bulged, as if a worm was about to come out of it.
Amid An Wujiu's countless calls, his father finally looked down at him.
The next second, he stabbed himself in the chest with a knife.
Among the fragments, Father murmured.
"He's coming back..."
It was also such an evening, the blood-red sunset covered his pale and handsome face, and reflected on the book that fell to the ground.
He remembered tears of ecstasy in the corners of his father's eyes, and his black-and-white eyes turned a fanatical, brooding blue.
The picture was so clear, An Wujiu saw his father gouging out his heart with his own eyes, and whispered.
He said, God, I give you my heart.
Please keep my wife and my children.
Even if An Wujiu ran against the piercing wind, he couldn't get rid of these scenes that had tortured him for countless nights.
The collapsed block building was restored little by little, and the shattered tiles were restored to perfection. He remembered the death of his father, but he could not replace him who had passed away.
Under the guidance of the red arrow, An Wujiu stumbled towards the top of the mountain.
His eyes are full of fragments of memories from the past: the weird symbols and words on the wall, his mother crying bitterly while hugging his cold father after returning home, there were only three of them at the funeral, and the young and ignorant sister hid in her mother's arms and looked at him ignorantly. Looking at the tombstone, I asked where my father was.
He was holding a large bouquet of white peony in his hand, and his mother grabbed his arms forcefully and ordered him not to mention his father's death again.
A few men in black suits stood at the gate of the school, and my mother took his hand and walked quickly through the crowded crowd, as if fleeing from something.
His mother bought many fake identification cards, dug out the citizen chip behind his ear, burned all the documents and memories related to the "Human Innovation Project", and took him and his sister to move constantly.
The book that followed after it was burned, the new house after another, the mother who always screamed in pain in the middle of the night, and the nightingales who died one after another at the door of the house.
An Wujiu, who couldn't see anything, had already arrived at the sacrificial cemetery on the top of the mountain, and now he was facing Andrew's tombstone.
In his eyes, what he saw were rows of small tombstones carved from wood chips in the backyard of his childhood.
That's what An Wujiu did for those dead nightingales.
How strange, it must have been a very cold winter, as it is now.
Why didn't those nightingales migrate
An Wujiu stood in front of Andrew's tombstone in a daze, letting the red arrow dissolve and draw out the lines of the tombstone. There was a bloody handprint in the middle of the tombstone.
He understood that this was a hint from the system, so he stretched out his hand, and his palm overlapped with the bloody handprint.
"Good evening, my dear gravekeeper."
A voice sounded, very similar to the voice of the sacrifice at dusk.
For some reason, the voice was deep and hoarse, but An Wujiu subconsciously believed that it was the same person as the previous rabbit.
"I want to know if the person you sacrificed during the day is a good person or a cultist?"
An Wujiu remained silent, his mind was in a mess at the moment, as if every nerve was twisted together, suffering and struggling.
The word "cultist" appeared from the first copy of his experience, and he never took it seriously.
But it turned out that his father was also a cultist.
Maybe even my mother is no exception.
"Go ahead."
An Wujiu was so angry that he stood there erectly, colder than the tombstone.
The voice smiled, and there was an unconcealable contempt in the laughter.
"Does that frustrate you that he's a nice guy?"
An Wujiu turned around, the arrow was already pointing home.
"I've expected it."
The cold wind was howling, and the light of the blood moon spread across the entire earth. An Wujiu was his bloody childhood all the way, he remembered why his mother burned the whole house down, it was because he pointed out the sun symbol on the wall, he recounted it, and told his mother that he dreamed of God last night , Mother went mad in an instant.
She covered his mouth and kept ordering him: "Shut up!"
No matter how much An Wujiu cried, his mother could not recover from the maddened anger, she shed tears and scolded his stupidity, telling him not to read those things again.
"Can't talk! Can't look! Can't listen! Can't do anything!"
Mother's cry of pain lingered in An Wujiu's mind, even the way down the mountain was extremely rough, An Wujiu almost fell to his knees.
"Listen to me, blue, never look into those blue eyes! Remember, or you will die like your father! Me and your sister are the same, we all die without burial land!"
blue…
Since then, there are no blue objects in their home, and even the clear sky, his mother does not allow him to look directly at it.
She said the sun was dangerous, and the blue sky even more so.
An Wujiu never saw the clear sky again, and later, he was locked up in a coffin-like room, and he never had the chance to see the real sun again.
All he can see is a digitally simulated image.
As long as he can complete the tasks assigned by those people, he can get a reward of "basking in the sun"-stay in a virtual "sun room" for an hour.
Data, everything is data.
Plants are virtual, sunlight is virtual, fun is virtual, and even friends are virtual.
When he was trapped in that dark white laboratory, An Wujiu realized that he only had one friend.
He closed his eyes, and he could describe the appearance of "him": shimmering scales on his body, majestic irises like a kaleidoscopic iris, and long tails extending like many vines.
In order to test An Wujiu's ability to regenerate, they used sophisticated machinery to precisely cut the meridians of his hands and feet and smashed many bones in his body. An Wujiu was placed on the experimental table like a smashed and broken vase, lying there coldly, half dead, wriggling his dry lips, whispering.
"He" will appear, staring at himself standing on the brink of death, he has no tangible hand to reach out to save him, but An Wujiu is already satisfied.
He tightly closed his lips, and silently poured out all the pain to "him" in his heart.
"It really hurts."
"I can barely take it anymore… "
"Can you... kill me..."
"He" didn't say a word, just used the changing pupils to fascinate his last consciousness.
An Wujiu didn't know "his" name. He also never disclosed his name, he was just an unnamed god who accompanied An Wujiu through countless horrible nights.
Staggering back to the temple, An Wujiu was devastated, as if only an empty shell remained. The sharpness in his subconscious made him vaguely feel that someone was staring at him, but he couldn't see anything.
An Wujiu was a bit self-defeating and thought about it, at least he wouldn't be so tired after being killed by the cultists at this moment.
These floods of memories were about to overwhelm An Wujiu's nerves, and he finally understood why he lost his memory, or why the electronic female voice that appeared when he woke up, the instigator, made him lose his memory.
Because these are things he cannot bear.
Even the tip of the iceberg is enough to crush a seemingly solid cruise ship.
If he knew one day earlier, with his extremely split double-faced nature, who knows if he would go crazy straight away.
But until he returned to the room and opened the door under the guidance of the red arrow, the death he was expecting did not come.
An Wujiu fell on the bed, he felt his whole body was hot, even wrapping him tightly with a quilt was useless. It was as if he was thrown into a pool of scalding water, his body and soul were separated, his body struggled endlessly, but his soul could only watch him drown and die on the shore.
A magnificent and eerie dream overwhelmed An Wujiu.
In his dream, he turned back into that little boy, the one who could recite those ancient symbols silently when he closed his eyes every night before going to bed.
At the age of seven, he was the only witness of his father's self-sacrifice. He was a weak priest on the verge of collapse, and he couldn't shake off the shadow of his father's death.
He is like every soldier who has survived the cruel battlefield. He has repeatedly experienced those indelible traumas in countless peaceful nights. offset.
So every night, he would think of the words and marks written on the wall with blood before his father died, and he could recall the book on his father's body, the contents of the page that was opened when it fell.
The young and distorted him repeated the content of that page again and again.
Until one heart-wrenching night, the gods described on that page of vellum and trapped in a distant place really appeared before his eyes.
After all, he disobeyed his mother's order, opened his abyss-like eyes, and looked directly at the summoned thing.
It's not blue though, there's no blue anywhere.
Mother.
Those are clearly emerald eyes.