0159 Chapter 4: The End of the Ordinary (Section 30)
In the desert in the middle of the American continent, three hours after Zhen Cheng and his party left, a figure walking slowly was reflected in the deserted Gobi.
The hot gravel sand makes the air close to the surface twist and boil, making the figures on the horizon look staggering and strange.
He was a farmer wearing a straw hat and a plaid shirt and overalls. His skin was rough and red, and his slovenly face looked very wild.
It doesn't seem too out of place to dress like this here. Most of the farmers in the surrounding towns are dressed similarly.
The only thing that's surprising is why a nearby town resident would get lost in the wilderness and go deep into such a remote no-man's land.
But soon, a second figure appeared behind him. It was a burly man, covered in a red prison uniform. His wrists were handcuffed, and the iron chain in the middle of the handcuffs had broken.
What is concerning is that it was not cut by a sharp tool or welded at high temperature. It can be seen from the twisted and bent metal fracture that it was completely torn directly by a huge force!
Then one after another, the third figure, the fourth figure...
Among the dense crowd, most of them were prisoners dressed in naked clothes, with uniformed prison guards among them. There were hundreds of people walking shoulder to shoulder.
After that, all kinds of people began to appear. Townspeople dressed as farmers, well-equipped police officers, campers, National Guardsmen, ecological investigators... In the end, there was actually a whole group of shirtless people who decorated themselves with oil paint and feathers.
Indian tribe.
They follow tradition and are unwilling to accept urban life, and are the real owners of this ancient land. In today's North America, such people account for more than one-third of the population.
An endless stream of people, men, women, old and young, walked towards the collapsed stone niches in the mountains of Fat Rocks near the stream, just like the army rushing to the battlefield thousands of years ago.
Although there was no neat formation, no one fell behind, no one complained, and no one even whispered. The team of thousands of people marched silently.
Everyone in the team has only one thing in common. Their eyes have no whites, just pure darkness.
They did not line up and walk along the rock wall path that Zhen Cheng and the others had walked. Instead, they still maintained a scattered formation, crawling up the rock wall with their limbs like spiders.
Their hands and feet seemed to be inserted into the sand, easily leaving fingerprints several centimeters deep on the hard rock wall.
When all the black eyes climbed up to the summit platform where they once fought, densely packed small holes were left on the entire mountain wall, like an unsolved mystery in a wonderful world.
Then, they began to work together and work together to dig out the ruins of the battlefield.
The mummies of members of the scientific expedition team from decades ago who were originally buried shallowly in the sand were dug out one by one and placed neatly on the edge of the cliff.
The completely collapsed stone niche was excavated layer by layer by hundreds of tireless, black-eyed human excavators, passing them on in long queues, throwing the gravel in their hands over the cliff.
The original shape of the stone niche was gradually revealed. As expected, the shadow mural named [Original Image] was not damaged at all in the explosion and landslide, and now it is revealing a corner of its mysterious image.
The black eye who dug out this corner was a strong Aztec prison guard. His body gradually twisted and stretched unconsciously. He was still carrying the stones, but he was sucked into the mural and disappeared without a trace.
.
Within three seconds, where the prison guard disappeared, a farmer climbed up to take his place.
Since then, every once in a while, one of the black men carrying out the excavation work would suddenly twist and deform from here and there, and be sucked into the mural. But this did not affect the orderly progress of the excavation work at all.
It is obvious that in a few hours, the strange original mural will be revealed again.
"Still...are you late?" The sound of gritted teeth sounded from the distant bottom of the Pacific Ocean.
At this time, above the altar of the Undersea Cathedral, a hazy spherical light mist with a diameter of seven or eight meters was reflecting the excavation site in the desert in the middle reaches of the Minnesota River.
This projection technology, which obviously comes from the side of occultism, is a bit like the crystal ball that Scarry used to monitor the scene of the detective game. It can span space with the help of a pre-arranged magic circle and observe the situation in the distance without using any surveillance props.
The man wearing a silver mask with an angry face danced with his hands, as if he was playing complex music in the air. As his fingertips jumped, the black eyes in the queue moved one by one, unable to fill the vacancies left by their companions who disappeared out of thin air.
The silver-faced apostle in the mask of sadness watched silently behind him. Behind him, hundreds of men in black with bronze masks were kneeling on the floor under the altar.
The two silver-faced apostles stared directly at the excavation site in the light curtain, watching the [Original Image] being excavated bit by bit without being affected in any way.
It is completely impossible to block the influence of the paradox with a mystical prop projected thousands of miles away, but it happened here.
Of course, the two silver-faced apostles have never seen the real picture depicted in the [original image] from beginning to end. The image projected by the light curtain is like a processed video recording. The entire mural is blurred. What?
Can't even see it.
At this time, a slightly trembling voice that sounded joking and malicious sounded from the altar, apparently in response to the angry face's "It's too late":
"Since you had to take back the authority of the Oracle Order to redeem yourself from failure, all our original plans have been disrupted. Under such circumstances, it is simply a fool's errand to ensure the death of the savior."
"If your action hadn't been a complete failure, why would I still be cleaning up this mess?! And this is the last time I clarify that changing the plan is God's will! It's not my own initiative!" the angry messenger roared.
"In the final analysis, that girl didn't appear in the place predicted by God at all, right?" The joking voice laughed maniacally:
"Look, I have set up a dragnet here and have penetrated the entire building. The angel arrived as scheduled, but the child from the Zhen family did not show up here at all."
Hearing this, Ang Mian also put away his anger. His frown was covered by the mask, and he lowered his voice and said: "We have been doing contradictory things according to a series of arrangements made by the oracle. God's will
, should it be..."
"Shut up," the strong and sad man behind him said in a tone without any emotion, but it succeeded in silencing the other two people immediately: "The gods don't want us to know their arrangements, they have their own reasons.
The road of destiny is mysterious and mysterious. Do you think it is easy to snatch the fate of the world from the hands of the savior?
Or do you think...with your wisdom and strength, you can have a hand in this game between gods? Huh! You are smart."