As a kid, I loved to write stories.

A different kind of story.

But I hope that the story I write is less like a story and more like a talker.

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"Because of a descendant, no matter what."

Grabbing, trembling on all fours, sneering and trying his best to open himself wide, and put on a map of the wonders of the whole world.

"They all have to be taken care of by their biological parents."

Tame, rebuke, the writer holds his head high, the tip of the spear breaks from itself, and the sun divides from this fracture, brushing stripes and teardrops on the cheeks of ridicule.

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[He has a crown with a tower around his head]

[On his high fortress]

[He supports everything in the city] [Note: from "The Theory of Things", Volume 2]

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The sneering body was subjected to high-velocity pressure and burst out, I saw.

A blood-colored wiring was set up behind her, and I reached out to hold her, and the haggard teardrops had long since disappeared, so that her eyes were white smoke.

Gravitational recovery, I twisted my eyes, and captured a miracle.

The man threw the spear and twisted it, and took off his clothes, exposing the sun in his chest, brilliant. With that, warm winds, strong blood, sweet scorched screams.

"Logic, I still don't need you."

His thumb scratched the corner of his mouth, blowing out the image of a girl. I was surprised. His five fingers were grasped into his ribcage, offering the sun, the beating cigarette roll and the sundial crocheting her long hair. I put down my sneer, and the horizon, the sky, the database jumped down, followed by another boy, curled up in the wind, and the whale swayed, and the head was loaded with spiral heavy armor, density alloy, rare creation.

"You're going to create a second logic? Second-order logic doesn't work in your world, and if you want to give birth to her, you'll have to bury me. ”

To be honest, I didn't dare to say this, I was a little self-denying, I was a little scared, I hoped that the sky would fall, and I could look at the smile of the shrinking pupil, on the bed, the cool moon next to the bed. For a moment, the bright white of the hair was blinding, and they wandered behind me, struggling, hanging from my head, trying to drive me to the death of the bastard.

"Yes."

The black coffin intervened, standing behind the writer, and it extended upwards, causing a gust of wind to blow in the Nether, and a kind of scream. Chiba led everyone to retreat, activating all the structural engines that could work under the foundation, trying to raise the Nether to the height of the Upper, it shouldn't be difficult. I watched the second black coffin rise into the clouds, and I couldn't help but feel cold. Therefore, subconsciously wrapped up and sat down on the steps again, from time to time the database shouted in his ears: "Why! Why can't you attack! He's trying to destroy you! Black King, Black King!? Stop standing stupidly, we will bring the last creation, have launched, an all-out attack! Don't look away! Logic! Don't you want to prove your innocence, what are you beckoning to me! Come on! Come up to the whale's tail! "It dawned on me that this was not the distinction between guilt and innocence, I was still an ordinary person, just a girl controlled by the writer on the highest throne, the throne of logic.

Except, my power, which does not belong to girls...

The sky is very refreshing, and there is no strife. The clouds were surging and I waited for the pigeons to arrive. Pigeons are good for nothing but to carry information and express peace. If that's the case, then I might be a pigeon.

The clouds were not pure white, with the dusk and darkness that I had spread earlier, and now with a hint of aqua blue.

The dragon's body is mighty and surging.

In the tears, those time spirits are also blurred.......

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Sick of it.

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The database couldn't help it after all.

Disobeying the shore's cry, she leaped off the whale. No one believed in the combat experience of a young girl who spent her days in the Black Tower experimenting and researching ingredients. It's just waving your weapon and slashing forward, right? Strange to say, no one wants to believe what kind of guidance a person's imagination can bring to reality. Well, that's not entirely true, it's just form. Floor-mounted, smashed hard, the whole body was hot, and the database hurt so much that the eyes became moist. The inertia increased abruptly after the gravitational pull was restored, and now the earth's axis twisted in the direction of the writer, and the girl's hair was frenzied, and the black bow and the jade pendant on her chest were boiling. Do you want to program? A set of weapons guides on Seiko and Assault?

I am the Creator, according to the records, all .......

A piece of rubble flew in and struck the roses and lilies on the light armor, knocking her to the ground.

Ah, it hurts.

Constructivists!

She struggled to help herself, and the shore left the humpback whale, and rushed out from behind, heavy armor and drills. The drill bit opens and advances radially in an invisible force field, and according to strict geometry, the trajectory releases kinetic energy in the previous process, depending on the effect.

Drilling into a mirror? Humpback whales passed behind the writer, separated by an unknown dimension.

The writer smirks evilly and directs the girl to complete self-reinvention in front of the drill.

By the way, he also pushed out the field with his hands, the humpback whale was forced to roll over, the upside-down string concocted to retreat, discharged, continuous reloading, positioning coordinates, the choice of blasting form, the sharp speed of the molten bomb. The writer was shocked, reflexively protected the girl, opened his hand in the flames, burned himself red, exposed the black crystal armor on his back, and there were even signs of mysterious circuits, seven places, jumping light, rue green.

"Him! In using all seven of his hearts, create new logic! ”

Sneering wailed not far away, clutching his back, blood dripping all over the ground. I suddenly remembered the scratches behind her, neatly arranged, and the spine would rot.

"That'..... What to do with the Black King! ”

I was so angry that my expression of incompetence was mixed with resentment, and I couldn't think of the limits of creation.

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"Protect her! Protect the Black King! Go, database! She is the logic of this world! ”

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The database has been confused in the war for a long time, no matter how many bullet lines have been intertwined and smashed around her, she can't help but repeat the tone, tone, and pride of this sentence.

Finally turning his head, admiring the high wall built by the writer in the blink of an eye, a statue of an Arhat blindfolded by a black cloth rushed out of the city gate, carrying a wave hammer, and melted with the flames and burning desires of the spirit of the time. The human face reappeared, looking at the database in disappointment, falling apart in the arms of the shockwave, and smiling.