Chapter 111 Memory Fragments

The arrow made An Wujiu think of the sacrifice at dusk, he suppressed the discomfort in his heart, got out of the bed, and followed the instructions step by step.

He could feel the cold wind passing through the corridor lifting his cloak, and could see that the arrow was bent, so An Wujiu leaned on the wall and turned to the temple.

What An Wujiu couldn't see was that the huge stone sculpture behind the stone screen came to life at this moment, the thousands of snake eyes on its body were rotating with An Wujiu's slowly moving body at the moment. The top is glowing with a faint blue light.

Walking forward, An Wu Jiu suddenly heard the sound of a stone cracking, so he turned his head slightly towards the source of the sound.

The sound is interrupted.

He didn't know that at this moment, the tip of the tentacle on the stone sculpture was already stretched out in front of him, just a stone's throw away from his temporarily blind pupil.

An Wu Jiu faintly felt the crisis, but he pretended to be ignorant, turned his head and continued to walk forward.

Those tentacles stayed where they were, and did not continue to follow him.

The stone gate of the temple was already open, An Wujiu followed the arrow's direction and moved forward, left the temple, and walked towards the mountain where the sacrifices were made.

The road uphill should have been much easier than at dusk. After all, he was alone at the moment, and there was no sarcophagus on his shoulders, but An Wugui felt heavy. It was as if many hands were dragging his legs and ankles, making it difficult for him to move forward.

The sound of wind and snow whizzed past, An Wu Jiu vaguely heard a different sound.

It's mother's voice.

[You have to remember how your father died. ]

The moment the broken sound disappeared, An Wu Jiu's dark vision suddenly flashed a scarlet scarlet picture.

It was his father lying in a pool of blood, with his eyes scattered and a happy smile hanging from the corner of his mouth, but nothing else. All that was left was an empty hole in his chest, gushing blood, and his still beating heart clutched in his hands.

An Wu Jiu shook his head in a trance, but the picture could not be dissipated. He tried to close his eyes, his father's cold body was still displayed in front of him.

Those forgotten childhood shadows came back to An Wujiu little by little, whether he wanted 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 about it.

An Wujiu's brain is like a broken mirror, the countless fragments in the mirror all reflect the same picture - Father opened the dusty book in front of him, and read strange language to him, He destroyed all his books, his lifelong research.

"It's all fake...all fake..."

The madness of my father was very 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 blankly, "Dad, who are they?"

Father didn't look at him at all, as if he didn't exist, he just whispered to himself.

"No savior, no, no."

His expression was so calm, but the blue veins on his neck bulged distortedly, as if worms were about to burrow out of it.

In the countless calls from An Wu Jiu, his father finally looked down at him.

The next second, he stabbed a knife into his chest.

In the fragments, the father muttered to himself.

"He's coming back..."

It was the same evening, and the blood-red sunset covered his pale and handsome face, reflecting on the book that fell to the ground.

He remembered the ecstatic tears in the corners of his father's eyes, his black and white eyes turning into a frantic, gloomy blue.

The picture was so clear, An Wu Jiu saw his father gouging out his heart and muttered in a low voice.

He said, God, I give my heart to you.

Please keep my wife and my children.

Even if An Wu Jiu ran against the biting wind, he could not get rid of these images that had tortured him for countless nights.

The collapsed building block was restored little by little, and the shattered tiles were restored to perfection. He remembered his father's death, but he couldn't get him back.

Under the guidance of the red arrow, An Wu Jiu stumbled to the top of the mountain.

His eyes were filled with fragments of memories from the past: the strange symbols and languages ​​on the walls, the mother crying with her cold father in her arms after her return, the only three of them at the funeral, and the young ignorant sister hiding in her mother's arms, looking ignorantly. He looked at the tombstone and asked where Dad was.

He held a large bunch of white peony in his hand, and his mother grabbed his arms and ordered him not to mention his father's death again.

A few men in black suits stood at the school gate, and his mother took his hand and walked quickly through the crowd, as if escaping from something.

The mother bought many fake IDs, dug out the citizen chip behind his ear, burned all the documents and memory related to the Human Renewal Project, and moved with him and his sister constantly.

The book that followed after it was burned down, new houses one after another, the mother who always screamed in pain in the middle of the night, the nightingales who died one by one at the door of the house.

An Wujiu, who can't see anything, has come to the sacrificial cemetery on the top of the mountain, and now he is facing Andrew's tombstone.

In his eyes, what he saw was a row of small tombstones carved from pieces of wood in his childhood backyard.

That was what An Wujiu did for those dead nightingales.

Strange, it was a very cold winter, like it is now.

Why didn't those nightingales migrate?

An Wu Jiu stood blankly in front of Andrew's tombstone, letting the red arrow dissolve, drawing 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 the palm of his hand overlapped with the bloody handprint.

"Good evening, my dear gravekeeper."

A voice sounded, very similar to the sound of sacrifice at dusk.

For some reason, the voice was clearly low and hoarse, but An Wu Jiu subconsciously thought that it was the same person's voice as the rabbit before.

"Want to know if the people you sacrificed during the day are good people or cultists?"

An Wu Jiu was silent, his mind was in a mess at the moment, as if every nerve was twisted together, suffering and struggling.

The three words cult had 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 the mother is no exception.

"Go ahead."

An Wu Jiu was like a gossamer, standing straight on the spot, colder than a tombstone.

The voice smiled, with unconcealed contempt in that laughter.

"Does the fact that he's a good guy upset you?"

An Wujiu turned around, the arrow was already pointing back.

"I expected it long ago."

The cold wind blew, and the light of the blood moon spread over the entire earth. An Wu Jiu was his bloody childhood all the way, he remembered why his mother burned the whole house, because he pointed out the sun symbol on the wall, he repeated it and told his mother that he had a dream about God last night. , the mother went mad in an instant.

She covered his mouth and kept ordering him: "Shut up!"

No matter how much An Wujiu cried, the mother couldn't recover from the frenzied anger, she tearfully denounced his stupidity and told him not to recite those things.

"Can't talk! Can't see! Can't hear! Can't do anything!"

Mother's painful cry was circling in An Wujiu's mind, even the road down the mountain was extremely rough, An Wujiu almost fell to the ground.

"Listen to me, blue, never look directly into those blue eyes! Remember, or you'll die like your father! Me and your sister too, we'll all die without burial land!"

blue……

There were no blue objects in their home anymore, and even the clear sky, his mother would not allow him to look directly.

She said the sun was dangerous, and the blue sky even more.

An Wu Jiu never saw the clear sky again, and later, he was locked up in a room like a coffin, and he never had the chance to see the real sun again.

All he could see was 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" - spending an hour in a virtual "sun room".

Data, everything is data.

Plants are virtual, sunshine is virtual, fun is virtual, even friends are virtual.

When he was trapped in that white lab where the sun never saw the light of day, An Wujiu realized that he only had one friend.

When he closed his eyes, he could describe the appearance of "him": shimmering scales on his body, a magnificent iris like a kaleidoscope, and a long tail extending like many vines.

In order to test An Wu Jiao's regeneration ability, they used sophisticated machinery to precisely cut the meridians of his hands and feet, shattering many bones in his body. An Wu Jiu was placed on the experimental table like a smashed broken vase, lying there cold, half-dead, his dry lips were squirming and muttering in a low voice.

"He" will appear, staring at himself standing on the edge of death, he has no materialized hand to reach out to save him, but An Wujiu is already satisfied.

He closed his lips, silently pouring out all the pain to "him" in his heart.

"It really hurts."

"I can not stand it any longer……"

"Can you... kill me..."

"He" didn't say a word, just used his changing pupils to fascinate his last sanity.

An Wu Jiu doesn't know "his" name. He never revealed his name, he was just a nameless god who accompanied An Wujiu through countless terrifying nights.

Staggering back to the temple, An Wu Jiu was completely lost, as if there was only an empty shell left. The keenness of his subconscious made him vaguely feel that someone was staring at him, but he couldn't see anything.

An Wujiu resigned himself to thinking about it, at this moment being killed by a cultist, at least he won't be so tired anymore.

These flood-like memories were about to crush An Wujiu's nerves, he finally understood why he had amnesia, or why the electronic female voice that appeared when he woke up, the initiator, made him lose his memory.

Because these are all he can't bear.

Even the tip of the iceberg is enough to smash a seemingly solid cruise ship.

One day, with his extremely divisive duality, who would have known if he would go crazy.

But until he returned to the room and opened the door under the guidance of the red arrow, the death he expected did not come.

An Wu Jiu fell on the bed, he felt that his whole body was hot, even if he was tightly wrapped with a quilt, it would not help. He seemed to be thrown into a pool of scalding water, his body and soul were stripped away, his body struggled endlessly, but his soul could only watch himself drown and die on the shore.

A magnificent and grotesque dream drowned An Wu Jiao.

In his dream, he turned back into the little boy, the child 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 to his father's self-sacrifice, a weak priest on the verge of collapse, unable to shake off the shadow of his father's death.

He is like every soldier who has survived a brutal battlefield. He has repeatedly experienced those indelible wounds in countless peaceful nights. Those pictures and sounds are constantly reappearing, making his survival also appear spiritual. 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 content of the page that was spread out when it fell.

Young and twisted, he repeated that page again and again.

Until one heart-wrenching night, the gods described on the kraft paper who were trapped in a faraway place really appeared in front of his eyes.

After all, he disobeyed his mother's order, opened his abyss-like eyes, and looked directly at the summoned thing.

That's not blue, though, there's no blue anywhere.

Mother.

Those are clearly emerald eyes.