Blade and Poetry

Until this moment, I can really get some rest.I sat on top of the ruins and stared blankly at the slowly rising sea level.

The feeling of the fight just now was actually not good.I've been repressing that thought in such high tension that it's only now beginning to emerge: those walking corpses without pupils are too much like people.Apart from their inflexible thinking, they also have red blood, human-like behavioral abilities, and even similar reactions after suffering pain.

It gave me a sense of carnage—like what war does to people.

I did a simple bandage tiredly.The sea below is getting more turbulent, and sooner or later it will overflow the high ground where I am.I saw a few scorched human bones between the waves, which gradually turned back to their original white under the washing of the sea water, and seemed to be growing fresh muscles.

I patted the ashes off myself and decided I had to keep going.

The other end under the stone pile is connected to a long sloping road.I took the compass in my hand, stepped on the red sand on the long road, and unknowingly reached the edge of a naked cliff.On the opposite side of the cliff, there is another flat cliff, on which a dark golden palace stands.The two are not close, and there is a bottomless abyss in between.

I took another confirming look at the compass and realized I had hit a new impasse.

There are no clues around.I thought it was not time to return, so I tried to find clues to the solution from the three prompts.

"Everything happens logically."

"The cards in your hand will be useful."

"As long as you find the 'eye', that is the exit."

The second point has been quite clear from the beginning, the last point need not be considered now, but the first point has not yet revealed its truth.

The white sea, the pink night sky, the paper sun, the dead tower without a door.There are all illogical scenes here, but the prompt implies that in this static "against logic", there is a dynamic "following logic".

What are those -- or that logical dynamic?

The monstrous sound of water rumbling from here and there caused me to look back.The distant white sea seemed to be rising into the sky, bubbling with foam and heat.The sea has turned into a boiling cube, and the newly born dead people gushed out of the sea water, rushing towards me one after another, and soon gathered into one piece again.

I stood at the corner of the abyss, looked at the approaching crowds that filled my retreat, and thought with a dumbfounded smile: If there is anything logical to say, it is their attachment to me.

What did they rely on to lock me in?Sound, smell, blood, sight?Neither should.The salty sea breeze is enough to cover up all traces of prey, and our appearance is by no means able to be identified from a very far distance.It cannot be said that this is just a rule—nowhere to escape should not be a rule at all, it is an abstract "dynamic" in this place, and its occurrence must follow logic.

I squeezed the compass in my hand, and suddenly remembered a previous episode.

The man who stabbed the knife in his throat, I stood deadlocked with him for a while.At that time, he stared at me stubbornly, but he couldn't say that he was looking at me, but he lowered his head and stared at my upper body; now that he thinks about it, he probably looked at my pocket.

And in my pocket at that time, there was only one thing that did not belong to me.

"The cards in your hand will be useful" - "The compass in your hand will be useful".

But who could have predicted in advance that it played its best role in this way?

I called Charon out, leaned out from the edge of the cliff, and stabbed it tentatively into the concave cliff.Under the condition of my constant exertion, the blade of the blade gradually broke through the hard stone cracks, and only the handle of the blade was fixed outside.At this time, I can already see the round eyes without pupils of the first group of people who came over.

"You have to try whether you live or die," I said silently, trying to throw the compass in my hand into the abyss, "once and for all."

I held the handle of the knife inserted into the cliff wall, and slid down the cliff face with my feet against the rock, putting all my weight on the hand holding the knife.I heard footsteps above my head, coming from many people, disappearing and being covered by new ones.In my peripheral vision, those figures are falling rapidly from the side of the cliff, head down to follow the compass that fell into the abyss, like a group of tits that folded their wings and fell to the ground, temporarily covering the sky .

I gritted my teeth and waited until everything returned to silence before climbing up with my arms limp.There are no people on it, only footprints on the thin red sand are left.

I couldn't figure out what route to take next, so I sat down facing the palace dry-mouthed and began to miss my paper bird for the hundredth time.Against the backdrop of the pale red sky, the dark golden hall is actually very beautiful, as if it has been lightly rendered with the shadow of the setting sun.

I dozed off with half-closed eyes; perhaps an hour later I was awakened by a rumbling sound.

That scene filled my eyes the moment I opened my eyes: the huge cliff in front was roaring, slowly moving towards me with an earth-shattering momentum.The gravel and gravel on its body kept falling, making a series of sharp and light whistling sounds in the air.It’s not that I’m going to the mountain, but the mountain is going to me—it’s as if a machine that can move the wheel of history is hidden deep in its thick rock. to my face.

Its edge collided with mine and stopped.

I was transfixed; I could barely blink my eyes.I had no idea what my actions were leading to—I didn't even move much at all.

But when I got up and walked towards the golden gate, I suddenly had a new guess about what happened just now.I'm not sure it's true or not.Anyway, I have been unable to verify it.

——"When people go to the place where the sunset falls, what do they need?" Across a long life, go to the resting place of all things.

- "It's time."

I waited on the spot for an hour before moving over the cliff.