On this battlefield, the person who shouted "kill" for the second time went through labor pains and gave birth to an ancient symbol, the rules established within the World Sutra into the visible realm, in which human beings, the Creator, were able to master the initial "production." ”

Humanity initially insisted that "the world must follow the form in which it is built, to an intelligible degree." ”

Raising her head and expelling her vertebrae, Imchen brought out a kind of bitterness, and she vomited in front of the high wall.

"Who can."

The Black King [Logic] [Discarded Proclamation] [Second God] [Aida] began to enter into his own Bongard Problem No. 54.

"Who will?"

The database finally turned back and witnessed the logic waving itself, forming the Gaia MANPAD, which also formed ideograms. Picking up a thread from the horizon, the database presented a curved embroidery needle to her half-stared at - the vertebrae stretched automatically, and Logic recalled Dante's aphasia and shed a tear: "I still can't give myself much, child, in the dream world, you are probably the one who knows the most." ”

Between the words, I was moved, when I was a child, I said goodbye to my mother with a book, tears tore the world, and the people I missed were also divided. She couldn't deny her fantasies, so she began to read through all the accounts, dreaming of the moment when she was blind, and she could be a "sub-god" to carry out a "bosom experiment" on the dream world.

"You can."

"Some people say I can."

Gaia has no mouth and uses his chest to amplify his voice.

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"Writer, I will warn one last time not to think of the new logic, or I will deny the new logic itself with the logic itself."

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George charged towards the distant sun, hoping to be able to return the ability of creation to normal before the new logic was born.

The Shapebird has calibrated all the positive and angular angles of the form, and the Nether has begun to shift itself.

At this level of observation, the Upper Realm will remain as quiet as usual.

Countless people will not see that one person sews the husk of the universe.

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"Where's Mommy?"

Luel retracted her feet and pressed her chest, holding down the unusual restlessness. The girl became suspicious, and then, she put on her shrinkage eyes and asked again and again.

"She's not here for a while. The little sea god will take care of you, she likes you very much, she really likes children. ”

"It's only been a long time since we met, and I want to ........ Leave? ”

"It's not about being able to spend more time with you."

"No, my wish hasn't come true yet, if it does, she won't leave."

"She has a wish....... Your mother ....." The other party was suddenly speechless and patted his head. "I made a wish, I don't quite remember." There were goldfish under the attic again, and Field was one of them, and when he got closer, he opened his mouth and swallowed him, and Lull was terrified, and Field turned around and swallowed her in one bite.

For a moment, the attic fell silent, and the fish circled a few times. Aiming at the crowd on the side of His Excellency the Abyss, the shark's fin was wide open, covering a small half of the sky, and the whole world swirled into golden warmth.

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"I'll take you to your mother.] 】

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What is the world like in the belly of a fish?

While swimming, Field puffed out his eyes, agitated the fibers of the world, gradually several times at high speed, generated space in the space, swam into the bottom of the Goushui Bridge, a fierce man, unintentionally created a wave, first to maintain himself, and then to push away the surrounding crowds, the wave from the Goushui Bridge as the center, radiating open, impacting open, ringing, smashing open, until the Valkyrie Square, the old dragon's body has not yet dissipated, and the ancient palaces and temples built on it have all fallen.

She wandered alone in the silence, the lanternfish lit up herself, the stratigraphic structure of the upper realm, powered by the structural engine, lifting the entire continent, and she was a little proud and spitting bubbles.

The bubbles fell in the mantle, carved out a long trajectory, pierced through the rocks, and retracted into the last piece of dirt at the bottom of the earth's crust, snapping, the fish shaking its head, the light of the distant sun forcing it to shine, and the cold moon guarding the lower left of its tail, the last dispersion of sea blue and swollen purple on the scales. She finally regained her condition, and when she was inspired by a war, fortunately, she could see everything from above, within the high walls, and she remembered the symbol of justice, a group of writhing *** she was invaded.

"All things have the right to rebel."

The bubbles suddenly pulled into a straight line, unable to resist the horizontal tension and exploded, a string of firecrackers, crackling, hanging from the clouds, gunpowder tearing at the fire demon.

On the ground, Logic charged, her legs dragged her forward, and she ran on all fours, evolving from crawling to bending, ten thousand years, and one second.

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It's fast, it's faster, it's too fast, it's incredible!

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In the gravitational field of Yueyang, the goldfish spit out two people and were sandwiched in a bubble, and the bubble wall was hard jade and Tianyu.

The database slumped on top of the battlefield, barely swaying her head, propping up her eyes, enjoying the grand show, the world swirling in the corners of her eyes, leaping in size, and finally, falling from her cheeks to the surface, tears smashing out of the pit on the ground, booming [mang second sound, referring to the overgrown weeds].

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"I spent the next minute writing the old babble from the original texts of the Dream Interpretation and the Dream Codex, in which the dream pressure is measured to collapse to a minimum under certain circumstances, and at that time, free will will be truly free—expressed without limits. I hope you still live a hypocritical life, listen to your dreams, abandon your wishes, whether the dream world belongs to the writer or us, it is up to you. ”

"Isn't that an exaggeration?"

"I'm not a poet, Black King."

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Bungard Question No. 0, Kill.

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A black line crossed under the dragon claws of the first generation Shi Ling, and the space behind the black line curled up, and the shadow on the ground showed the threads, which was not fashionable. Shi Ling retreated, and the surroundings of the black line began to heat up, melt, and build a tower, folding loudness? [Same as "exhibition"] of the sound rises. She loads herself into a kind of mimic rifling, discretizes the track of the embroidery needle, and places the stroke pipe on the surface of the high wall.

Shi Ling didn't hear anything.

Because the database ignores the sound in the invasion strategy.

It's a battle with only pictures.

No background sound required.

Bungard Question No. 88, on the combination of vowels.

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The wall is not a wall, she instantly stood in the waves of rubble, and the girl's chest was still shaking in mid-air with inertia, and it was round.

The writer saw her hair come from behind her, so hard that it could pierce things.

Field puffed up, pierced the vacuum wave's sac, and inhaled sharply, his chest resonated.

Tiannian bent the hull 15 degrees, the torque structure also resonated, squeaked, the tail rudder flew to the upper boundary by the wind, and the empty pigtail wing only had nuts and screws.

The black king's chest is drooping, and the pear hangs upside down, with a graceful curved shape.

Bongard question number 101, how many models can be identified for a girl's breasts?

The new logic is still in the arms of the writer, with white hair, a white dress, a whole white man, and a pair of white eyes with amber eyes.

She was going to take a look at the chest of the new logic at the moment of the stab, well, it was not yet developed.

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"Nope! It must be the fault that the classical babble has not been deleted...."

"yes."

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The walls had not yet lost their inertia, and the gravitational field held the sword in its mouth, biting the sun filaments and blood vessels in the writer's chest, plopping and jumping in the air.

Crawling in the palm of his hand.

In the scorched aroma of being crushed, it shook for the last time.

Bangard Issue No. 93, Thermal Image of Death.

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"You can't do this dream."