Countless fissures surround Palmer, and the blazing white light tracks extend like threads woven by the goddess of fate. They start, extend, and finally meet at one point.
Palmer's crown of thorns.
"I...am I about to die and hallucinating?"
Palmer looked at the crown of thorns in his hand, and then looked at the shining cracks, the fragments of the world, peeking at the fate of others.
Just like the evil isomers of the devil, so are the parallel worlds. The same stories are played out one after another, with only slight deviations in some elements, but even so, they still converge on this common
At one point, awaiting his successor, Palmer made the final decision.
Palmer swallowed. Up to now, he still didn't know what happened between the devil and Bologo, and why the etheric world fell into such a weird situation.
But vaguely, Palmer understood that he had stood in front of a fork in the fate of the world, and he would decide who would win in all this.
Is it up to you to decide? It sounds ridiculous.
Palmer has always been a person with few opinions... It cannot be said that he has no opinions, but most of the time, he has put his brain in trust and is only responsible for executing orders.
Palmer would do whatever the Bureau of Order told him to do, he would carry out whatever orders the Clerks family gave him, and he would just follow Bologg obediently wherever he went.
Palmer's life has always been like this. There are very few times when he can decide anything by himself.
Yes, it's true, Palmer couldn't even control his engagement.
Over time, Palmer has become accustomed to all this. Anyway, he is also a lazy and slack guy. It is too late for Palmer to be happy that someone can take the responsibility for his decision.
But Palmer never imagined that he, who never had to make a choice, would have to make such a major decision today.
This seems ridiculous, like a fragmented dream, unbelievable.
"Why me?"
Palmer looked down at the crown of thorns in his hand and murmured to himself.
Waves of heartbreaking pain came from Palmer's hands. The thorns grew wantonly, like black and red shackles, entangled his hands with the crown of thorns.
Palmer's eyes were a little blurry and in a trance, and then he affirmed himself.
"Of course it's me," after a brief moment of sobriety, an evil smile appeared on Palmer's face, "I am one of the saviors and a hero of the world, so of course I am qualified to enjoy this power.
"
Palmer held up the crown of thorns, and the wildly growing thorns covered his body little by little, almost shaping him into a monster full of spikes.
The power of evil and madness surged, but Palmer didn't notice it at all. He just stared at the crown of thorns, as if he could glimpse his magnificent palace on the mountain through the dark and scarlet light.
The majestic palace became clearer as Palmer came closer to the crown, and the melodious tunes of the choir grew louder.
In the palace made of gold, Palmer could see Vosilin waiting for him quietly under the throne. In addition to her, Aimu, Bailey, Nathaniel and others were also standing there. Everyone
All with smiles on their faces, celebrating Palmer's greatness.
Palmer wore a crown of thorns and hugged them one by one, sharing their joy. But when it was all over, Palmer stopped in front of the throne, his expression full of confusion.
Wosselin took his arm and asked with concern, "What's wrong? Palmer."
"Okay...it seems like something is missing."
Palmer looked back at the golden palace, trying to find the missing thing, but he could never find any trace of him.
"What is missing?" Wosilin didn't understand. "You already enjoy supreme power and eternal life. Is there anything else that can be called missing in your life?"
"Yes...yes, I have got everything I can get, what else is missing, what else am I not satisfied with?"
Palmer nodded vaguely, and with Vosilin's support, he stepped onto the red-carpeted stairs step by step and walked towards the supreme throne.
In the grand hall, people's applause and singing continued, but those sounds were far away in Palmer's ears. All he could hear was his own heavy footsteps and the repeated questions in his heart.
.
What exactly is missing?
Suddenly, Palmer's steps stopped, and a distant memory appeared in front of his eyes. It was a living room filled with all kinds of sundries, from movie videos to records, heavy books and a box of
Boxes of board games are piled up piece by piece.
Palmer was sitting on the sofa in this crowded and small space. He was laughing and pointing at the plot of the movie with the guys next to him.
"Where's Borogo?"
Palmer remembered the name that was about to be lost and asked Vosilin, "Where is Bologo?"
"Bologo?"
When Woxilin heard the name, her expression became sad, "Have you forgotten? He already died in the final battle."
"He...he's dead? But isn't he immortal?"
Palmer came back to his senses and his expression became angry. He couldn't accept that he had forgotten his partner. How could such an important thing disappear in his heart so lightly?
At this moment, looking at this magnificent palace and the crown above his head, an even greater sense of shame rose from the bottom of Palmer's heart.
He understood that winning the final decisive battle was entirely dependent on Boluogo's sacrifice. Everything he was enjoying now was like stealing Boluogo's sacrifice.
Wosselin held Palmer's face with her hands and forced him to look at her.
She whispered, "Palmer, sometimes you don't have to lose anything to gain something."
As she said that, Vosilin looked at the throne that was only a few steps away, "Perhaps, you gain something first, and then you lose something."
"All of this is already close at hand, isn't it?"
Vosilin let go of Palmer and left all this to him to decide on his own. Palmer stood in the middle of the stairs, unable to touch the throne as he went up, and unable to return to the earth as he went down.
"Boluogo is already dead. It's obviously unwise to give up everything for a dead man, isn't it?"
After a long silence, Palmer whispered to Vosilin, "I can commemorate him in many ways. One of our children will be named Bologo Krex, and I will give birth to him in Oath City Opos."
I will build a golden sculpture for him in the center of the world. I will write his name into the textbooks of all countries. I will ask people all over the world to remember this name so that he will never be forgotten."
Faced with Palmer's various promises, Vosilin just looked at him with a smile, neither approving nor vetoing them.
"I've done my best, haven't I?"
Palmer said again, "The living must continue to move forward in life, and they cannot be tripped to the ground by a dead man."
Vosilin smiled, everyone smiled, and everyone looked at Palmer. Whether he was defending himself or resenting something, everyone accepted and tolerated everything about him.
"You don't have any objections, right?" Palmer laughed to himself, "I am the king of the world, a supreme king, grieving for a dead man and a long-destined past.
It would be too rude to worry so much."
"Yes...that's it."
Palmer kept repeating that he was no longer telling his thoughts to Vosilin and others. He was more like telling himself all this to convince himself and accept the established fact so that he could make people happy.
Accept this supreme all without any psychological burden.
Move forward, keep moving forward, the supreme throne is right in front of you.
Palmer stepped forward and climbed the sacred stairs, but for some reason, there was no joy in his heart. Instead, he was filled with struggle and pain.
He didn't understand why, as if this supreme power represented endless temptation and danger, the power and eternity it whispered was like a sweet trap, tempting Palmer towards the dark abyss.
Palmer tried to resist this temptation with reason. He told himself that this was just a false promise and an evil trick.
But... but the devils are dead, who wants to lie to themselves?
Palmer couldn't figure it out. He felt that his thoughts were becoming more and more chaotic. He wanted to stop, but his body was uncontrollable and stubbornly continued to move forward. Palmer forced himself to look back. That strange force
will become stronger.
It seemed to be able to see through Palmer's heart, accurately hit his deepest desires and fears, show him a future full of power and glory, and put him in an irresistible dream.
No one can easily reject power and eternity.
Palmer's forehead was covered with cold sweat, and his heartbeat was as fast and powerful as a drum. He felt that his will was gradually collapsing, and the dark power was eroding his soul bit by bit.
He tried to find a ray of light, a ray of power that could guide Palmer out of the darkness.
No, darkness? How can there be any darkness? I am clearly heading towards a future full of glory.
Despair and helplessness, excitement and ecstasy, many complex and contradictory emotions roared and roared in Palmer's heart. He felt like a traveler trying to survive in rough waves.
The cold sea water was hitting Palmer's body hard, consuming his physical strength and reason. Palmer felt that he was sliding into some kind of abyss...a bottomless abyss.
"Why resist? Palmer."
Palmer asked himself, "What's wrong with being the hero of the world, the eternal king? Why would you refuse?"
"You must be very tired, Palmer."
Palmer's body began to tremble, and every step seemed extremely strenuous, as if he was carrying a huge burden.
"As long as you lower your head and obey it, you will no longer feel pain and fatigue, and at the same time, you will have everything the world longs for."
Palmer persuades Palmer. Palmer doesn't understand why Palmer rejects Palmer. Palmer doesn't know what Palmer is nostalgic for.
Palmer, Palmer, Palmer and Palmer...
Vaguely, the hazy holy light fell from the end of the sky. It easily passed through the golden palace and landed on the throne. The god loomed in the light, smiling at Palmer and welcoming him to join.
The ranks of gods become the supreme existence.
Palmer suddenly stopped and froze in front of the throne. The God's smile remained the same, Wosillin and everyone else were smiling. This should have been a scene of joyful celebration, but inexplicably, Palmer felt that
Very sad.
sad.
The huge sadness was like a roaring wave, drowning Palmer and dragging him into the cold and dark seabed.
Palmer turned around with difficulty and asked Wosilin and everyone in a dry voice.
"Is this really what I want? To become a supreme king, overlooking the heaven and earth, controlling the fate of countless people, and incarnating into an eternal existence."
Palmer was extremely sad, "My friend...my best friend died, and I was complacent about his death, enjoying everything he had sacrificed in exchange for, and trying to rationalize it all."
"It's okay, Palmer. This shows that you are flesh and blood, and you are a person who can feel the joy and sorrow of others."
The same voice responded to Palmer. Looking down, he saw a mysterious being appearing on the long stairs. He was wearing dark robes and his complexion was extremely pale. His whole person looked like someone from the past.
The black and white characters from silent films are not stained with any color.
"So, can someone like me really become a so-called king?" Palmer asked the standing black and white figure, "What's more, do I really want to be a king?"
Palmer didn't understand or understand, it was like it was forced on him.
"What is the use of my supreme power? To rule others? To torture others. I am not a psychopath. Or should I say, to instill my own ideas into the world? This is even more ridiculous. I have no ideas. The only thing that counts is an idea.
, or just want to find a place to lie down and spend the rest of your life peacefully.”
Palmer dragged himself forcefully, walking down the stairs and towards that profound existence.
"As for what woman, I already have someone I love," Palmer poured out all his doubts wantonly, "Wealth? I am the heir of the Clerks family, I have enough wealth, not to mention, I
I have almost no strong material desires, so what’s the point of wanting so much money?”
"Or should we say, eternity?"
Palmer seemed to laugh in anger and whispered, "Rather than watching each friend leave, I would rather leave with everyone's laughter."
His voice became louder and angrier, "The value of these things to me is not even as good as a VIP ticket for a concert!"
"But many people desire this, Palmer."
The deep being turned back and looked down at the people in the golden palace, looking at the countless souls in the vast world.
"They long for power, long for eternity, long for women, money and treasures, long for the satisfaction of their most filthy and evil thoughts. For all this, they are willing to degenerate into abominable existences, and even their souls can be easily sacrificed.
out."
Palmer angrily took off the crown on his head and threw it heavily towards the deep being, the crisp sound of the collision echoed.
"But that's their wish, not mine!"
Palmer's hazy consciousness woke up and became as firm as steel. He strode down the stairs without looking back.
"Instead of promising me this noble thing, it would be better to give me my friends back!"
Palmer crossed over to the deep existence, and a strong sense of death rolled in, but it still couldn't stop him for a moment. He walked towards the stairs, past Wosselin, past familiar figures one after another, and headed towards the direction where the light came in.
Go.
He asked, "What are you going to do, Palmer?"
"Go save my friend," Palmer took a deep breath and replied with a stronger voice, "It's my turn to save him this time!"
Palmer disappeared into the light, and a deathly silence fell.
The God of Death silently watched the direction in which Palmer left. Not long after, he saluted the disappearing light, his voice filled with chills and a ray of laughter echoed in the silence.
"Palmer Clerks, Savior of mankind, all glory be to you."
…
Palmer opened his eyes and escaped from the weird hallucination. The crown in his hand was still shining, but it no longer looked like the scarlet and dark color. Even the bushes of thorns disappeared and turned back into Palmer.
It looked like a branch when I first saw it.
"damn it!"
Palmer cursed and slammed the crown on the ice. After a crisp ringing sound, it fell next to Burlogo's body.
After taking a few hard breaths to calm down his emotions, Palmer awkwardly picked up the crown and put it on Bologna's head. It seemed that the size was not right, so Palmer put it on.
Extremely laborious.
But in the end, Palmer crowned Burlogo in a very funny and even absurd way.
"Damn it, I'm a man who plans to retire at the age of thirty. This kind of life-threatening job should be left to professionals like you."
After putting on the crown, Palmer complained while trying to lift Bologna's frozen body, but Bologna's body was too heavy, and Palmer was too tired, so he just lifted it.
Halfway through, the two of them fell heavily into the snow dust.
"Ha ha……"
Palmer took a few deep breaths, chills churning in his lungs. He didn't know whether it was sadness or too much pain. His eyes couldn't help but shed tears, and then the tears froze on his face again.
"Damn, why is it so heavy?"
Palmer cursed and shook the armor on Bolog's body, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake it at all.
"Damn, damn!"
Palmer felt that he had spent all his complaints in recent years on this moment. Now that he could no longer break off these armor plates, he could only struggle, like carrying a heavy sack, and held Bolog's feet with both hands.
Hug him, lift his abdomen with your shoulders, and let his entire upper body hang behind you.
Palmer just carried Boluogo on his shoulders and moved forward in the vast wind and snow.
So, in another world, the afro-headed Palmer carried the bassist Boluogo on his shoulders, and the two figures moved forward with difficulty.
"Hold on, Burlogo, we will become a big shot and sing on a stage with thousands of people," the afro-headed Palmer kept telling, his voice choked with sobs, "It's okay, Burlogo, you won't die.
of."
His voice broke slightly and he made a bad joke, "You know, rock and roll will never die."
The blazing white thread of fate passed through the afro and the bassist. It crossed one world after another and arrived at the desolate battlefield full of corpses and flames of war. The heavy rain had gone away, and pieces of debris were piled up on the muddy ground.
puddle.
The war horse Palmer whimpered and used its head to support the fallen Knight Bologg. It tried its best to put its head under Knight Bologg's body, then stood up with all its strength, and actually rolled Knight Bologg on his back.
Got up.
A cheerful horse neighing sounded.
The war horse Palmer picked up the knight Boluogo and limped towards the distance, facing the falling arrows.
The blazing white thread passed through the horses and knights, like an untraceable meteor, falling into the dim and lightless world, landing on the earth that turned into scorched earth.
Scattered gunshots and explosions continued, and lingering dark clouds obscured the sky. Many fighter jets broke through the clouds, throwing deadly weapons at the distant land, and then, a mushroom cloud shook the earth.
Rising from the ground, the scorching flames were clearly visible hundreds of kilometers away.
In the roaring heat wave, Palmer, a mechanical creation, carried the flesh-and-blood Bologo and moved forward on this ruined land.
The power of the mechanical Palmer has reached its lowest point, and the transmission joints are also broken into pieces. It is like a sweeping robot that is about to fall on the road and cannot find the charging base, but it still moves forward stubbornly, with the beeping of electronic sounds.
Another mushroom cloud rose not far away, and their figures looked particularly small under the dazzling bright light.
The thread of fate continues to move forward, moving forward unswervingly. It crosses one world after another, connecting the fragmented pictures together.
In some worlds, both Palmer and Burlogo fell to the ground, lifeless. In other worlds, Burlogo lost an arm, and his remaining hand dragged Palmer.
In other worlds, both Palmer and Burlogo are still alive, supporting each other and moving forward with difficulty.
In a certain tiny world, Palmer the squirrel opened the mouth of Borgo the squirrel, stuffed the glowing chestnut into its cheek pouch, then bit the tail of the squirrel Borrog and dragged it with great effort.
Toward the treetops.
The thread of fate passes through thousands of worlds, different timelines, the same fate, the only will, and the same decision.
In the heavy wind and snow in the etheric realm, Palmer reluctantly tipped Bologo, changed into a relatively comfortable position and continued to move forward.
"You are the hero who saves the world, then I will be the hero's partner."
In the dead silence of the world, Palmer muttered, "We should be very popular, the kind that will be celebrated by thousands of people."
"Maybe Nathaniel will really build a sculpture for us. I hope they won't touch it. You know, it's really funny that a place like that is shiny after being touched."
"Do you think there will be an anniversary? There should be. As for writing it into the textbook, I don't think it is necessary. It feels really weird to be taken so seriously by everyone for being so careless."
"Hey, I hope those people in the Immortal Club can keep our cups well, which can be regarded as a bit of proof that they remain in the world."
"I don't know if Wosilin will be sad... I hope she won't be sad for so long."
Gradually, Palmer's thoughts became lower and lower, his voice became smaller and smaller, his speaking speed became slower and slower, and his straight waist bent down, almost falling down.
Palmer still held on, carrying his good friend on his shoulders like he was carrying the world.
The warm light shone in the wind and snow, and the crown on Boluogo's head gradually became loose, but it did not fall to the ground, but after breaking away from Boluogo's head, it floated quietly on his head.
On the skull.
The pure white buds no longer have the sharp thorns, but grow sacred laurel leaves, wrapping all the goodness and turning into the crown of final guilt.
The cold and stiff body became warm and soft, the dead heartbeat rose and fell again, and the low sigh floated in the vast wind and snow.
Boluogo slowly opened his eyes, his pupils glowing with golden light.