The last corridor leading to the mechanical cabin is sultry and dim. The disturbing mechanical vibrations and roars are endless as if they want to penetrate into people's brains. The lights on the walls seem to have encountered problems with unstable airflow.
, the flame in the lampshade flickered.
But all these are incomparable to the depression caused by the increasingly strong sense of disobedience and tension, and the dizziness caused by the gradual tearing of thoughts.
Belazov controlled his steps and his expression.
The closer he got to the deepest part of the Petrel, the more steady he became, his expression as calm as ever.
Some crew members stopped and talked in the corridor. They were wearing strange leather... "coats", the skin folds on their faces were piled up, and their voices sounded like buzzing noises.
Belazov walked towards them. His mind told him that these crew members were his own soldiers, but he could not recall their names.
"General?" A soldier came up to him and looked at Belazov curiously, "What are your orders?"
"I just came to check on the situation in the mechanical cabin," Belazov responded to the unfamiliar soldier with a calm expression, "stay at your post."
The soldier stared at him, then saluted and backed away: "Yes, General."
Belazov walked through these people, taking steady steps as usual. He could feel that the soldiers' eyes stayed on him for a while, but then quickly moved away.
Are they really their own soldiers? Are they really the crew of the Petrel? Are they the hidden thing? Or some kind of minions? Have they noticed? Or are they already wary? The next second...these
Will soldiers who can't remember their names rush towards me?
Belazov suppressed all his thoughts in his heart until he reached the entrance of the mechanical cabin and opened the unlocked gate.
More harsh mechanical noises hit the face.
The steam core is running at full power, astonishing surging power is brewing in the spherical container, the complex pipeline system hisses on the ceiling of the mechanical cabin, and the huge connecting rods and gears are running rapidly in the steel frame at the end of the cabin.
The machine runs very happily, even... so cheerfully that it's a bit fanatical.
It was like a restless soul pushing those heavy steel gears to rotate rapidly, pushing the ship to sail towards the cities of the civilized world at extreme speeds.
The hiss from the steam pipes seemed to be mixed with vague whispers.
Belazov's body shook a little, but he soon stabilized and walked towards the direction of the steam core.
A priest was shaking incense in front of the valve. He suddenly turned his head and looked at the general who was walking into the mechanical room. The church emblem on his chest seemed to be stained with a layer of oil, making the sacred symbols on it appear blurred.
"General?" the priest cast his gaze curiously, "Why are you here suddenly? Here..."
"Let me take a look... at the condition of the steam core." Belazov said, his eyes falling on the incense burner in the priest's hand.
The little meat ball was swaying gently in the air, with a pale eye open on it.
He raised his head again and looked at the running steam engines and the hissing pipe system.
The gas escaping from the steam pipes was red in color, and the edges of the rapidly rotating gears were blurred and twisted. It seemed that something was parasitic in this huge machine, replacing the original sacred steam with its malicious soul.
The machine had been contaminated and was in a state of desecration - this thought occurred in Belazov's mind for a second, but then it was gone.
But he still walked towards the console of the steam core - even though everything about this huge "steel heart" seemed normal to him at the moment, he slowly reached out to the console.
"General," a mechanic with oil stains on his body suddenly came from the side and put his hand in front of the control lever, "Don't touch these, the machine is sometimes very fragile."
Belazov raised his head and glanced at the mechanic.
The latter just responded to his gaze calmly.
But suddenly, the mechanic's lips moved a few times.
Belazov frowned slightly and read a few words from the machinist's lips——
"The machine is infected and cannot be shut down or destroyed."
Belazov was startled for a moment, and then he saw the mechanic turning sideways, moving his lips slightly while fiddling with the joysticks.
"The pastor cannot be trusted...the situation is out of control...Process No. 22."
Process No. 22?
Belazov felt nervous, but soon he knew what he should do.
Mechanics know the "heart" of the ship better than anyone.
He turned around and left the mechanical cabin, but did not go to any cabin. Instead, he continued to maintain a calm posture after leaving the bilge corridor and returned to his captain's cabin.
From time to time, soldiers came forward to greet him. Some of them gave him vague impressions, while others could not be named at all.
There must be conscious and normal humans among these soldiers - but Belazov has no way to distinguish them, and he has no time to contact or screen the thirty humans on the ship except himself and the mechanic.
He locked the door of the captain's cabin, went to the safe next to the desk, and began to turn the combination lock plate. Amidst the clear and sweet click sound, his fingers became increasingly pale from the exertion.
With the soft sound of the lock opening, the safe door opened.
Belazov's eyes passed over the grid where the documents were stored and landed on the red button at the bottom of the box.
Next to the button is a small line of text: Process No. 22, only for use in extreme circumstances.
Belazov stretched out his hand towards the button, and almost at the same time, he heard a knock on the door: "General, are you inside? We have received an order from Hanshuang and you need to handle it personally."
It was the adjutant's voice.
Belazov suddenly felt a trace of hesitation in his heart——
What if I made a wrong judgment?
What if there is really no problem on the ship, and the problem is just himself? It is because he has suffered mild pollution, which has caused cognitive and memory deviations, and he even has auditory and visual hallucinations along the way... If this is the case, then he is now
It means burying an entire ship of people to accompany him for his neurosis!
"General, are you inside? We received instructions from Hanshuang..."
The knocking on the door was a little more urgent than before.
Belazov suddenly woke up at the knock on the door. He suddenly realized that those thoughts just now were probably not in line with his character... He was not someone who would suddenly hesitate at the last step of his action.
Someone is injecting "impurities" into their thinking!
"Son of a bitch, heretic!"
Without any further hesitation, Belazov pressed the red button instantly.
After a very short delay, a terrifying explosion swept through the entire ship - the mechanical clipper Petrel was instantly enveloped in flashes and flames, and was torn apart in the horrific destruction caused by high explosives.
The burning wreckage of the Petrel floated on the sea for a while, and was gradually pushed to the frosty northern seas under the influence of the current. Then its floating finally reached its limit - the scorching wreckage began to sink at an accelerated rate.
, as if being dragged by some invisible force, it sank faster and faster, and finally disappeared completely on the sea.
…
At the same time, in Frost City, near Cemetery No. 3, an old guard wearing a dark coat and a slightly stooped back was slowly walking back from the city.
He had just gone to a nearby street to buy some daily necessities. It was now approaching dusk and he had to return to his "position" before the shift change time.
The road leading to the cemetery is deep and quiet, with few passers-by, but even so, residents living in nearby neighborhoods occasionally pass by this path.
When they noticed the figure of the old guard, they would unconsciously adjust their steps and keep a little distance from the gloomy and hunched old man.
They didn't dislike the guard, but they instinctively had a sense of fear. This was not only because of the eerie atmosphere near the cemetery itself, but also because of the old man's withdrawn and indifferent character. Even if he looked at the entire cemetery area, he was the same as other people in the cemetery.
Compared to the more or less gloomy caretakers, the old caretaker of Cemetery No. 3 can be regarded as the most intimidating one among them.
He has been in this position for so long that even he has a touch of the "dead" temperament.
This even brought about some terrible rumors - some people often said that they saw pale lights floating over the fence in the cemetery after dark, and that was the soul of the caretaker who had long since left the body. Some people also said that this scary old man
He will lie down in a coffin at midnight, stop breathing along with the dead, and wake up when the sun rises the next day.
These weird and horrifying rumors surround the cemetery and the caretaker, but the lonely and eccentric caretaker never seems to care about it - in fact, he hardly interacts with the nearby residents, except for occasionally going out to buy some daily necessities like today.
In addition, he spent most of his time living in the caretaker's cabin in the cemetery, and the only people he interacted with on weekdays were the church's bearers.
He didn't think there was anything wrong with it.
It is his responsibility to keep the living away from the world of the dead. The former should not have excessive curiosity to avoid being harmed by it, while the latter can enjoy the tranquility after death and go on the road with peace of mind.
He guards the cemetery and the city outside the cemetery.
The old man raised his head, looked at the cemetery gate not far away, and suddenly stopped.