Agatha slowly looked away from the lantern. She turned around, leaving the consul Winston in the cold and calm darkness, and walked towards the "branches" that were crisscrossed in the endless space.
That huge curtain of thorns is like a dome of heaven and earth.
A dim lantern hung on her waist, her right hand held the cane that had been with her in her memory for many years, and her left hand still held tightly the brass key from Winston - the key had
It is no longer cold, but has a kind of heat that is like body temperature, as if... it is gradually merging with my own body.
But Agatha no longer paid attention to the changes in her body.
She just stepped forward in the darkness, feeling that this body was actually moving forward. As long as the surrounding chaos had not completely swallowed her up and assimilated herself, she still had the need to move forward.
She was looking for a place to stay in the void, and every time she took steps, a path-like ground appeared in the darkness. She was looking for a way out among the thorns. There were often narrow holes among the criss-crossing branches.
For traveling through.
The sharp "thorns" soon tore through her clothes. The dense "fabric" was as fragile as loose gray and fog in the face of the ancient god's thoughts. The fallen fragments condensed into a wriggling black liquid in the darkness.
Drops, blending into the path under her feet, she occasionally touched the sparks jumping and wandering among the thorns - when she came into contact with those flashes, she could almost clearly feel that something was drilling into her mind.
That was the thought of the ancient god, a murmur from the Holy Lord Netherworld - without any malice, not even a complete intention, but for a weak mortal, the shortest spark of thought was as bright as a dark night.
Brilliant giant candle in the sky.
Another cluster of dim flashes of light came quickly from a distance, sliding across the dark thorn branches and across the line of sight. A strand of Agatha's hair intersected with the flash of light, and in a hundredth of a second, a picture appeared in her mind.
Agatha couldn't understand the message these sparks conveyed to herself - just as Winston told himself, don't try to guess the thinking of the ancient gods.
Will go crazy.
She raised her head.
The majestic structure made of dead trees and thorns covered the field of vision. Dense dark flashes danced in the thorn bushes like fireflies. A thin layer of fog shrouded the outside of the thorn barrier, and in the depths of the fog, the huge limbs of the Profound Holy Lord were gently moving.
Swing - like an invitation.
The surroundings were getting cold again - and it was more definite and piercing cold than before. The coldness was filled with moisture, and it penetrated into the body as if it would freeze the bones.
Agatha subconsciously tightened the clothes on her chest, but found that her clothes were in tatters and the thorns along the way had left countless large and small wounds on her skin.
In the wound, a dirty black sticky substance slowly squirmed like blood.
But just when she thought the cold would swallow her completely, a weak but warm heat came from her chest again...
…
A small green flame burned quietly in Agatha's chest, and the faint green light illuminated her face, and also illuminated the cold and damp sewers around her.
All the feelings seem to have gone away, or are separated from one's own reason by a thick curtain. The temperature in the blood vessels seems to have faded with the passage of time, along with the fatigue and pain accumulated along the way.
pain.
Agatha shook her head slowly, trying to dispel the numbness that occupied her mind, and as her vision was shaking, she suddenly saw a strange scene out of the corner of her eye.
She saw that the dim and blocked sewer corridor in front of her seemed to suddenly become spacious, and a layer of mist floated in the hazy space. In the mist, something like a tree branch or a thorn bush was emerging, and slowly
Spread towards yourself.
However, the next second, this hallucinatory scene disappeared, and there was still only a dark corridor in her eyes.
And a gate at the end of the corridor.
Plop... Plop...
The moment she stared at the gate, Agatha seemed to hear an illusory heartbeat in her ears, as if there was a huge heart hiding opposite the door, constantly beating and growing in the darkness.
Agatha's already dull and numb spirit suddenly perked up, and her eyes instantly focused on the door.
"Ah...I found you..."
She put away the flame in her hand and took steps towards the darkness. The almost broken combat cane supported her for the last time. Her pace became faster and faster, and even gradually brought the sound of wind. She stepped towards the darkness, and then
The darkness was behind her, and the low and terrifying heartbeat gradually beat like a heavy drum in her heart, even in her mind.
Gradually, she heard something else mixed with the heartbeat, as if thousands of people were praying, chanting, and calling out to some dark and indescribable existence.
But she no longer cared about how much noise was mixed in the mixed sounds - she was about to send the fire, and the heretic's lair was at the deepest point ahead.
The sound of walking sticks and heels tapping against the ground echoed loudly.
And at this moment, Agatha suddenly heard other sounds - not her own footsteps, nor the heartbeats coming from deep in the corridor or the blessings of the crowd gathered together.
Those were other footsteps, a large group of people, and the dense footsteps sounded like they were coming from another direction - very close to the corridor in front of them, but separated by one or two walls.
The sound of gunshots came from the footsteps, and it was a large-caliber rifle.
Other people? Living people? There are still people acting with me in this mirror city?!
A question instantly appeared in Agatha's mind, but this question did not affect her progress at all - she almost instantly rushed through the last section of the road before the gate and arrived in front of the gate where the sound of heartbeats was constantly heard.
The door was slightly opened with a gap, and in the gap was a darkness that was so dense that it could not be opened. The darkness seemed to have substance, escaping and flowing outward little by little.
But this is exactly what Agatha has been looking for.
She pressed her shoulders against the heavy door and pushed it open slowly with all her strength.
With a creaking sound, the door opened.
A vast darkness appeared in front of Agatha - or in other words, some kind of boundless "shadow" enveloped the originally normal space, leaving her with only darkness.
She could only barely make out that the darkness seemed to be a meeting hall. The widest intersection in the sewer had been transformed into a sacrificial place for sacrifices and the birth of ancient gods. Countless shadowy invisible things were there in the darkness.
It's squirming, and malice is like a stench, coming towards your face.
Then, before she could react, she heard a rapid sound of breaking through the air in the nearby darkness. Something was coming towards her, and a familiar and disgusting voice sounded in the distant place.
There was a sound in the field - with banter and ridicule:
"Ah, the last sacrifice has finally arrived - it's great, the other one you just arrived at the predetermined place."
"boom!"
The cane was swung out, bursting out short and shining sparks in the darkness, and a ferocious and weird limb was severed in the air and fell at Agatha's feet. She almost lost her balance due to the impact - after barely regaining her balance,
She immediately raised her head and looked in the direction where the voice came from.
I could just barely see the tall and thin figure of a young man standing at the end of the darkness.
He opened his hands towards this side.
"Come on, sacrifice, your arrival is part of the plan - now, it's time to build the passage."
Agatha used her cane to support herself, and slowly raised her head amid weakness and dizziness: "You are seeking your own death..."
"Yes, we will all die here, but it doesn't matter. As long as you step here, the ritual has been successful - I admit, this is indeed a trap."
…
There was a bang of gunfire, and the fire and explosion tore through the darkness in the corridor. The powerful warhead shot a twisted monster with three eyes in the head. The latter's mutated and ferocious body fell to the ground, melted quickly, and collapsed.
It dissolves into a disgusting black mud.
However, more monster roars continued to sound from all around, and more deformed and twisted things continued to emerge - from the surrounding walls, pipes, drains, and even gaps in the dome.
The mud-like substance seeps out from almost any gap visible to the naked eye, flows, and turns into countless monsters that resemble humans but not.
"I don't think we have enough bullets!"
A sailor shouted loudly, while quickly reloading the rifle, raising the gun, and shooting. His shout was accompanied by the crackling sound of the ghost flame burning, sounding hoarse and dark.
Lawrence had no time to respond to the sailor's shout - there was a swift sound of wind coming from behind his head. He only had time to turn slightly sideways to avoid the fatal blow, and then he was driven by intuition to grab it back.
A humanoid monster wearing the uniform of a city-state guard from decades ago and holding a sword in his hand was pulled from behind by him and fell hard to the floor.
Lawrence took a step forward and stepped heavily on the chest of the fake monster. The ghostly flames on his body rose instantly, and the spreading flame burned the monster that looked both human and inhuman to a pile of ashes almost instantly.
The next second, Lawrence, whose body was burning with ghostly flames, raised his head and looked at the corridor ahead that seemed to never end.