The active consciousness walking, the grotesqueness presented in the alienated Youjiang consciousness world, is making my memory produce a strange linkage. Although I can't isolate this attack or find the context, the thought that "anything will happen during the consciousness walk" doesn't surprise me with my own anomaly. As long as you prepare from the beginning and assume that the situation will definitely exceed expectations, anyone can calm down.

I'm confident in my ability to handle.

The enemy is not in sight, although the alienation of Youjiang is still increasing, but it does not mean that the place where I am is is where her power directly hits.

It's also possible that when I entered her state of consciousness, she also reversely entered mine. Although theoretically, the two sides will not walk on their own consciousness, and I will not be unaware of the fact that she invades the consciousness when she enters, but since such a fact has happened, we must first face the crisis caused by this fact before we can find out the cause of it.

I'm not really a consciousness walker, so I've always been deeply wary of situations I've never encountered before. While the thought was still flickering, the invisible passage of the swift sweep had been formed.

I passed through the side of the alienated right river in the shortest distance, and ran straight to the back and forth.

Even if you do it in the world of consciousness, you can do all the same thing, and it's a good card for me.

However, it seems that there are other troubles in trying to walk out of consciousness at this time.

What is holding me back is still the same door that I came from. When I came, they were closed, and when I returned, they were still closed, which was a very different sight from my past conscious walk. In the past. Once these "doors" are opened, they do not close on their own again, and the current situation is also a very fierce counterattack for me - when the route is cut off by these gates, no matter how fast the sweep is, it must be stopped.

Every pause, every time the door was reopened. will consume more time. These gates are stacked on top of each other, and there are almost no gaps, which makes the speed sweep lose the meaning of speed - passing the distance between two points at the fastest speed is the meaning of high speed, but if the distance between the two points is infinitely close to zero, the meaning and effect of high-speed movement will become weaker and weaker.

It's not a world like the outside, it's a narrow passageway. When it is said to be "narrow", the visual perception may not be very profound, such as forgetting left and right. It is an endless extension of space, and even there is no "road" under your feet that defines where you must go, but the "door" is independent, it stands there, pushes it open, and can go deep or exit. This is the meaning of "door" in the first place.

Every conscious walker probably has their own unique way of walking. And my consciousness walk is done through the form of "passing through the door", and some people may feel that there is no need to fix any form. But in reality, if you don't even have a form, then you are really confused and don't know how to complete the movement of "consciousness walking".

For me, "opening doors to the depths of the soul" is the way to gradually penetrate into the other person's world of consciousness. Maybe not the best, but I understand it best. You have to make yourself understand before you can do it, you can do it, that's what I think. The most striking difference between walking in consciousness and moving in the material world is - of course, depending on the actual situation, there are many complex and varied situations.

However, under normal circumstances, the way of "opening the door" does not change the way of consciousness walking, and even at this moment, this form of thing does bring me quite a big obstacle. No, maybe I should think so, it was the alienation Youjiang who saw through my way of consciousness walking, and used this formal embodiment to arrange the obstacles in front of me.

Consciousness is too grotesque and agile to be dangerous and uncertain for any occult expert. I used to know this, and now it's even more profound.

Every time I open the door, I can clearly feel my memory, just like the lake that has been muddy by the shovel to lift the silt, not only the things that have been forgotten, ignored, not realized, and subconsciously avoided are all pouring out, but also some pictures that I originally thought I didn't know, and even really surprised me, also began to appear in my mind - I have always had a question, when something makes me feel strange and has never encountered it, but suddenly appears in my mind, then, Are these things "hallucinations" or "lost memories"? Was it "implanted"? Or was it "woken up"?

I pushed the "door" open with all my might, but the huge, invisible shovel swung more and more violently, and the frequency with which the mud was stirred always made me feel sluggish. These things that are forcibly turned out of the mud of memory, flash at a speed that makes people have no time to reflect, and disappear like foam, which is the opposite of the rapid expansion of thoughts, if the forced thinking is too violent, it will make people feel that their heads will explode at any time, then, the rapid presentation and disappearance of these memories will only make people have a deep feeling of "being digested".

It is not the flesh that is eaten, but the nutrients that make up the soul are stolen, devoured, and digested by foreign bodies that are not oneself - the disgusting and horrible of which cannot be contrasted with any description, not even the words "extremely" and "very" cannot accurately describe one or the other.

This intense and negative feeling forced me to open the "doors" in front of me more and more desperately, but even if I wanted to concentrate everything on my own acceleration, I couldn't actually do it, and the indescribable chain reaction brought about by the stirring of memories could not be ignored by my own subjective will. That kind of anxiety that is constantly delayed will not arise because you are prepared. All emotions and thoughts, like a derailed train, do not know where to rush and cannot stop, but they are enough to make people realize that "it will never be a good thing".

Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me. The sound was so strange, like a surging sound of a sticky liquid, and it was a "huge" thing to feel just by the sound. I couldn't help but look back, only to see a scene like a tidal wave made up of piles of figures.

Those figures. All of them are the appearance of alienated Youjiang. The only difference is that these figures have been deformed by the mutual compression, as if there are no bones, and from the skin to the inside, they are all kneaded with soft glue, like a human shape made of soft clay baked by the fire. It is like asphalt poured into a mold, but the mold is pulled out before it solidifies. The softly collapsed humanoids were far more numerous than they could be counted, stacked in disorder, intertwined with each other, and their heads seemed to be squeezed out of a pile of hands and feet, and it was impossible to distinguish which hands and feet came from which specific body.

These alienated Youjiang figures are all expressionless faces. And the female face, which originally had a strange beauty, was also deformed in the violent squeezing, losing all beauty. Only weirdness and distortion remain.

It's not a "human", it's not even a "monster", it's just a "twisted humanoid shape". This cognition, at the first glance of seeing this tide of human form, can't help but come to mind.

It's horrible, it's too twisted, it's too weird, but the more you look at it. The more he couldn't take his eyes off, as if there was a force grabbing his heart. Let your bones creak and creak and make your body's secretion unregulated, but these abnormal feelings have an addictive ingredient that you feel the more you feel them. The more you can't extricate yourself. I know that I don't feel pleasure at all, only nausea and fear, but when the nausea and fear reach the extreme. Will it also make people indulge in this distortion?

I turned around and opened the door again, and every time I opened it, I always felt like it was the last door, but when I opened it, there was only another door close at hand. I pushed it away, and it reappeared, as if it never ended. How many doors have you pushed open? I suddenly don't remember clearly, but I had a feeling of "more than when I came". It's a feeling of despair, as if it's a trap and you'll never be able to open all these doors because they're "infinite".

In front of me is a seemingly never-ending "door", behind me is a tide of strange human forms that are desperately surging, memories are stirred, thoughts cannot be stopped, and souls are also "digested", there is no feeling that makes me feel good, there is no one that does not make me feel hopeless and frightened. I felt like I had no way to escape, and I couldn't find a specific target to attack even if I had to fight against the water.

But isn't that a familiar feeling?

When this rhetorical question rang in my heart, it was so cold and calm. In the midst of that chaotic, frenzied turbulence of thoughts and emotions, it was so isolated that I couldn't ignore its presence. No, it should be said that when everything is chaos, disorder, despair and fear, such a cold and calm question is set off extremely strikingly.

I felt as if my time was frozen in this moment.

Aren't these despairs and fears born from weirdness, distortion, powerlessness, and no escape always accompany us when facing the "virus" and "river", and when the doomsday syndrome attacks? Although the desperate, distorted and terrifying scenes presented are different, sometimes there are some specific images, sometimes there are none, but the emotions generated in the end are not all the same?

Or is there a hierarchy of despair and terror that can be divided? No, I replied to myself, of course no. There is no difference between despair and extreme despair, and neither is fear and extreme fear. For others, it may be customary to use it to describe different degrees, but "despair" is already the most extreme description, and the "fear" that accompanies "despair" is also the most extreme.

So, why are you so panicked?

Ah, is it because, did I forget something?

However, even if the specific memories disappear in the face of unknown mysteries, the emotions generated by those memories do not change from beginning to end. Despair is still despair, fear is still fear, it has not become anything else, and there is no sign of fading away.

Who has said that the oldest and strongest human emotion is fear, and the oldest and strongest fear is the fear of the unknown.

From this oldest and most intense emotion, I felt something I had not lost. No, it should be said that it is precisely because I can strongly feel that I am losing a lot of things, but instead let the things that have not changed, have always existed, and have not been stripped away exude the texture of their existence more and more.

Although it can be felt, it cannot be described. I say it's in my depths, but I can't tell you where it is. It seems to be the depths of the body, but also the depths of consciousness, and it seems to depict the depths of the soul that tries to describe the nature of the self. Aside from the fact that "it exists" is known, any other factors that describe its existence are unknown.

It was as if there was nothing but despair and fear. Despair and fear are the only two threads that connect me and it, these two threads are invisible and tenacious, as if I have been there since I had life, but sometimes I will be ignored in the past. Fear and despair seem to come from it, but it seems that when I feel despair and fear, I can feel its existence according to these two lines.

What is it?

It's-

"Jiang!" I couldn't help screaming, I couldn't tell what kind of emotion my shouting was carrying, it was so chaotic and rich, and it was so full of immediacy. I seem to have called this name countless times, as I do now, so how many times? I don't remember. Even though I shouted the name, I didn't feel the slightest sense of "rejoicing" or "being saved." Rather, when the name was called, the only two lines that bound us together—despair and fear—trembled with terrible speed.

It is awakening, and just one "awakening" activity makes the colors of despair and fear more lively and vivid, as if the previous violent despair and fear are a kind of "dead thing".

However, despair and fear are lively and vivid, and they are not at all joyful.

It seemed to be a huge thing that could not be described, and its shape could not be seen, and from the abyss under the deep sea, from the distant and infinite darkness, it lifted an insignificant tentacle. But even what was insignificant to it was completely beyond the load of my place.

I couldn't push the door open again. I can't do anything. Everything I could see stood still at this moment, and even the tide of human form froze in a posture that was about to fall.

The indescribable red, as if dyed, bloomed from a certain point in space and swallowed everything in an instant. (To be continued.) )