City of Burning Snow

Dostoyevsky has no time to hear Gogol finish.Just when the intertwined psychics began to vaguely emerge between them, the signal they were waiting for appeared.There was a slight commotion not far away, and the figure of Goncharov appeared among the soldiers.He walked through the crowd to the stairs, whispered something to the chief officer, the officer shook his head, and then exchanged military salutes.About [-] soldiers stationed here left the guarded place in a file. Goncharov, who came to report the information, stayed alone, waiting for the personnel to go outside the defense zone, and he hurried up to meet them.

"Master, I'm sorry for being late! The train conductor made a temporary transfer, and the departure time was delayed by 15 minutes. I'm worried that if you go directly there, your whereabouts will be easily exposed. The Japanese representative came in a bad way—"

"Well done," said Dostoevsky.

Under the leadership of Goncharov, they entered the cleared stair passage, and then went downstairs to escape.This is the emergency passage on the side of the tower closest to the railway network, and Goncharov's false information will soon be exposed.They had little time, and neither Gogol nor Dostoevsky had time to take care of their current physical abnormalities.Goncharov watched from the sidelines. He knew the details of the operation earlier than Gogol, so he was particularly aggrieved.There was only one thing in his mind, and that was to protect Dostoyevsky's personal safety, but when the noise of the train came from afar and they were standing on the bridge hole, Dostoyevsky told him to send him away. That's all for now, and then follow the original plan.

"—I can feel your thinking fluctuations from ten meters away."

Before leaving, Goncharov's eyes shifted to Gogol's face, his voice was suddenly indifferent, and his contempt was full of worries about being ignored.Worry, of course, was for Dostoevsky alone.The snow fell and gently entangled in the air gap between the young man's long hair. His happiness was only in Dostoevsky. He dreamed of going forward and retreating with this senior guide, but Dostoevsky Yevsky sent him away, and he always chose this inferior sentinel who was not reused.

"If it weren't for the master's incomparable illusion, you, a laggard, would have been noticed long ago."

Gogol ideally contradicted him, as he had been accustomed to do before.He wanted to mock the blatant sourness in the other party's tone unkindly. After all, Goncharov's words and deeds had no dignity at all, and there was always a mask-like smile on his face that didn't match his tone.He didn't say.The weather was not that cold, the winter when the snow fell was always milder than the freezing weather before the snow thawed, Gogol wrapped his coat around himself, and his sense of dizziness became more and more intense.What Goncharov said was true.He was really holding Dostoevsky back.

Goncharov's departure made something under the dizziness start to move.His thoughts are silently clamoring in his head, attack him, change him, he can become another kind of less annoying situation, can't he, he has more power and can be like Dostoevsky To prove this, Goncharov just used it as material, he—

"Nikolai."

Looking back at the train approaching, the senior guide called the name of the person around him, but seeing that the other party didn't hear him, he called him again loudly, and gave him a hard push, "Nikolai!"

The sentinel woke up with a start.He jumped onto the train with the guide, and the two were pulled by inertia and fell to the back of the roof of the carriage. He held Dostoevsky's back to protect him, his heart was beating wildly, and his mind was in a state of confusion. Having surpassed every previous experience, when he came back to his senses, he realized that he was no longer able to fully perceive all the conditions around him.The alert range of the sentries is different from that of ordinary people, but now Nikolai Gogol can only hear the wind in his ears. In his vision, the birch forest and mountains pass by in a hurry, unable to connect with his consciousness.There are deep and shallow footprints in the woods. He jumped along the footprints and covered Dostoevsky's eyes. The other party smiled and turned his face and poured snow into his collar. Eyes, eyes...

The screen changes.Seven years ago Dostoyevsky's angelic eyes had lost their luster and become pitted like a fallen star.He wasn't sure what was going on, and tried to press it with trembling hands, leaving the light in the opponent's eyes in the starlight, his hands were glued together by the darkness overflowing from the eye sockets, and they were entangled and dragged to the ground.Eyes, countless eyes drilled out from his back and hung into the void, the birch forest became a stone fire cage of fallen Babylon, his phoenix wept high-pitched and fell into the sea of ​​stones, the black eyes that could not be closed widened, staring at him with black holes As he looked, between the black holes was the old room of the warm dam.He was sitting next to the sofa, and the illusory shadow with the same appearance as the senior guide stretched out his hand to him with a smile, and retracted when his fingertips were about to touch together.Let's make a bet, poor Mr. Monster.we bet

"Nikolai!"

His forehead burned hotly.All the sounds and images were instantly condensed back into his body. He knelt on the top of the train, and beside him was Dostoyevsky whose cheeks were flushed due to a high fever. Dostoevsky's fingers were tightly clasped Between Gogol's eyebrows, he forcibly pulled Gogol's self-awareness out of the abyss, but he couldn't hold on, and the reaction brought about by the combination heat was stimulated more intensely by this proactive action. Dostoyevsky's thinking tentacles push away the phantoms emanating from Gogol's body.Various colors are mixed in these phantoms in an orderly manner, and Dostoevsky was surprised to see some kind of thinking tentacles between them.The noise of the collision between the train and the track made them close together, but it seemed that they were separated by thousands of miles of ocean.

"Fedya!" the sentinel yelled at him in despair. "Get away from me! I don't feel right!"

"If I leave you now, you will lose control!" Dostoevsky yelled louder and more embarrassed than ever in his life, and he yelled back, clutching the sentinel's wrist as he tried to break free. interference, trying to use the unstable support to fall under the rails. "Follow my lead! Don't run from your nightmares, Nikolai! Look into their eyes!"

"I can't... I can't! I'm going to be dragged back! I can hardly see your face clearly, Fedya! You..."

are you still here

The sentry's eyes were wide open, and the guide in front of him opened and closed his lips helplessly in the white silence.Just like watching a fish spitting foam from a glass tank, he fell into the shallow sea. The waves on the sea surface were orange-red in the setting sun, colliding with the ice blue into a gem-like clean purple.Seaweed entangled his limbs, and he was pulled again into a world of illogical fantasies.He saw himself standing among the crowd, laughing loudly in the frightened and blood-splattered battlefield, and the joyful feeling was similar to what he felt in the Hanging Garden, the attack was so beautiful.He doesn't have to think about what problems his next move will cause, his ability can perfectly present hell to the world.A voice as cold as water directed him, telling him, look over there, look at your nightmares - be brave, look at them!He just looked over, trying to see some meanings implied by the other party from among these monsters that tore apart, reorganized, destroyed, and repaired the crowd.But whenever he looked over, his head ached, and there was blood from his eyes, and he wiped them away like he was wiping away bubbling tears...

The sentinel knelt stiffly on the spot, and Dostoevsky held him tightly, taking care not to let him fall under the rails.The train drove out of the security range of the Novorussian Tower, surrounded by a vast birch forest, which was in a deep valley, and they were located above the long and narrow viaduct that could not be seen at a glance.Dostoevsky bit his lip, now there is only one way to stabilize Gogol's mind, but he is not sure if doing so will keep his mind intact, because the illusion that just appeared around Gogol, It is a thought tentacles that belong only to guides, which no sentinel should have.Combined with the overly complex and aggressive spirit of Nikolai Gogol, he was not sure if he would be able to escape unscathed. Just before he decided to give it a go, the sound of the wind made him stop breathing .

"Catch up with a good show, us."

There were two Asians walking slowly from the front of the car. The one walking in front was a young sentinel. His attack power was affected by Gogol's disordered spirit, and he was producing a sense of coercion like a cheetah.And a guide walked slowly behind him, putting his hands in his pockets with a smile. As soon as the guide's breath appeared, Dostoevsky fully understood what was going on with all the embarrassments of the day .

"I see... Osamu Dazai, I should have thought of this earlier."

Dostoyevsky supported Gogol's shoulders and raised his head with difficulty. He couldn't help but smile ironically at the last stand he was about to face.

"You were the one who tampered with Pushkin's communication phone, otherwise Fukuzawa Yukichi would not have discovered my hiding place so early. I don't need to face Mr. Belinsky's accountability today... "

As an accomplice who participated in the theft two months ago, the young man named Osamu Dazai looked at the sentinel who was on the verge of going berserk from the corner of his eye. He pondered for a moment, and his frivolous smile became a little more real.

"I haven't seen you in two months. Looks like we're all going to have to keep dogs, Mr. Mouse of New Russia."

"I'm not raising a vicious dog," Dostoyevsky's expression did not change, but his hands secretly squeezed Gogol's shoulder more tightly. "He is not as simple as a vicious dog."

"yes."

Osamu Dazai patted the shoulder of the sentinel beside him.

"You've been underestimated, Akutagawa. What do you think?"

The sentinel known as "Vicious Dog" was thin and thin, and his eyes were piercingly focused like a python.Different from the peaceful conversation with the enemy, Dazai Osamu spoke indifferently to the sentry, but the sentry answered very quickly-this is no longer an answer. When he spoke, his cold eyes ignited more than hellfire. The strong emotions and the power he released instantly surged in front of Gogol, prompting the latter to raise his head sharply.

"Oh, oh..." The guide in the black suit of the mafia stepped back a few steps, so that he could better observe the whole situation. The sentry rushed out beside him, and the edge of Akutagawa Ryunosuke's black clothes was blowing in the strong wind. Rolling waves--

"—Rashomon!"

tbc.