Takakawa's diary was finally extinguished, and the ashes dispersed without wind, and when they touched the lines and lines of symbols and formulas on the surface of the hall, they quickly multiplied and filled with strokes. The gray symbols and formulas, in this crimson fleshy hall, seem to be expounding some kind of deep and awkward truth, like the capillaries and nerve units in the flesh, like some kind of evil sacrificial place, they are enough to make people indulge in thinking, to burst into inspiration, to fall into the truth that cannot be explained in words, and the hazy knowledge, as if it lies on the boundary between the known and the unknown, sparks from the moment it begins to think. If anyone observes everything here, they will only feel that the whole hall is becoming active, becoming alive, something ancient that has been silent for a long time is awakening-

Such a description is emerging from the mind of a certain researcher, and a vague impression that he seems to have seen clearly, but cannot remember clearly, is growing from his imagination. He couldn't help but capture it all, and every time the imaginary sight became clearer and clearer, he himself felt more and more terrifying. These should have been imagined by themselves, as if they were the true portrayal of the hall behind him. He tried to stop imagining, to stop thinking in this direction, but the more he didn't want to think about it, the more these crazy thoughts lived.

He couldn't help but look behind him, the distance he had crossed was completely shrouded in darkness, and the things he had seen had long been left behind, however, the crazy imagination that arose in his mind made him feel that something was chasing from there. The thing didn't walk on its feet, it didn't float, it didn't have eyes or even any contours it had imagined or seen in the past, and its movement wasn't linear, it didn't follow what it knew.

It seems to come after thoughts. When you start thinking about it, you're already locked in by it. It peeps, squirms, chases from an unknown, vast and dark world of the concepts of "space" and "time" that it knows absolutely itself.

It's coming, it's coming—

"It's coming." The researcher couldn't help but mumble to himself.

"What?" The companion next to him didn't hear clearly, but felt that the other party's state was a little strange.

"It's coming." The researcher responded in a trance.

"It? What is it? The companion heard it clearly this time, but he was a little puzzled, and in addition to the doubts, he also noticed that something was wrong, and the companion seemed to have become a little dangerous, and he couldn't help but try to distance himself from the other party.

The researchers didn't catch up. He wasn't the first or the last in the ranks, his steps slowed down, his companions passed him one by one, and when he was at the end, the others finally realized that something terrible was happening to the researcher.

"Sick?" The other researcher also slowed down, hesitating whether to wait or help the other person, or to turn around and walk away as if nothing had happened. If it's really doomsday syndrome, it's not surprising, because everyone here can end up in the same fate at any time. Everybody here is a potential patient. After encountering so many incredible dangers, falling behind one's peers, or falling behind, is no longer an accident, but a realization of probability.

It can only be said that the other party is unlucky. Moreover, they do not actually have the ability to really help each other. Today's survivors must admit the cruel reality that no matter how many things they do, how many plans they make, and how many possibilities they calculate, none of them can change the situation, or only temporarily improve it!

Yes, not a single one! The efforts of myself and others have not yielded results at all, and everyone's work so far has had to be suspended because of one emergency after another, and there may be hope if it continues, but this hope is being caught up, captured, and swallowed up by despair at a faster speed. There is nothing you can do about it, and running away is only passive.

Except for madness and despair, except for the anomalies that grow faster than their own, there is nothing left in this hospital.

What if you escape into the depths of the research institute? No one wants to believe that those strange situations will come to their eyes again in the next second, but what has happened has more or less proved a law of despair, everything that makes you feel terrified, everything that makes you die, will only come sooner than you think.

If you and others have collapsed, you can stop and face those unexpected difficulties with a frank mood, but you and others are still struggling - the more you struggle, the more painful it is. Just like in a science and education documentary, the spider catches the flying insect with a web, injects venom into the flying insect, and waits for the prey to corrode and soften from the inside, and finally turn into a delicious juice. In such a scene, the spider is such a terrible and ferocious monster, and how miserable it is for the flying insects to fall into the prey.

The more you think, the more desperate you are, the more you imagine, the more terrifying it is, if you can reach the philosophical realm of thoughtless and thoughtless without thinking or imagining, maybe you can avoid it, but in fact, this is not something you can do without thinking or imagining.

My thoughts are expanding, my imagination is enriching, my thoughts are describing things that I can't explain with my mouth. It became more and more vivid, as if it was about to jump out of the illusion and become something that really existed.

Because of the stoppage, the researcher who fell into a trance, and the few researchers who couldn't help but slow down, gradually felt that they seemed to understand what the researcher who was in a trance was thinking, what was going on in his body, and there was a strong feeling of empathy drilling into his brain, stirring his brain, and constantly drilling into the depths of his soul. They understood the next moment that they were sick themselves, and empathy for their sick companions was the best proof of this. When they can appreciate the changes that are happening in the other person, the same changes are already taking place in themselves.

Thinking is contagious, feelings are contagious, thinking is tending to the same direction, whether rational or emotional, all activities that belong to the behavior of "self-knowledge" are bringing something indescribable.

The indescribable thing is like "smelling" the very act of "thinking".

"It's coming, it's coming up." One person after another said so. Because there were a few more people, the murmuring of only one person was also amplified. In the darkness, the murmurs of these people seemed to be proclaiming, chanting, and depicting some kind of terrifying behemoth in the same rhythm. Just listening to their voices, you will feel that they are no longer researchers, but like propagators of some kind of cult. The murmur that grew louder was so terrifying that the researchers who ran desperately forward without looking back felt "chased".

Voices chased them, uncanny anomalies chased them, fear, madness, and despair chased them, and those sick colleagues who had been left behind had fallen into a mire that could not be returned, and had become part of the mire, even if they could not be seen, it seemed that they were struggling, reaching out from the mire in a painful gesture - even if it was just an illusion in their minds, those hands were reaching out from behind the darkness, catching up, trying to pull themselves into the dark mire.

The more people who fall behind, the more they feel the vivid sense of pursuit. No one wants to be "caught", even if when they turn their heads and look back, they can't see those "hands" at all, and they don't want to be caught by the "hands" that are hallucinating and only produce in their own imagination. Some screamed, as if they were entangled in that incredible hand, and they stumbled and fell to the ground, only to watch in despair as their fellow people moved farther and farther away from them.

They could keep moving forward, but they were falling, entangled, hopeless, and a huge, non-hallucinatory force was pulling at their ankles, calves, torso, neck, and head. Before the researcher could get up, his half-leaning body stiffened, as if something was pulling at it, bending him backwards. The body was getting more and more curved, but he was getting older, and his body was no longer so flexible, so even the bones creaked, and it seemed that they would break at any moment.

If you were an ordinary person, you must be in pain, but there is no other emotion left on this researcher's face except despair, because his face is as if it is frozen, and he can't show any other look at all, and his eyes are getting darker and darker, and he has lost his brilliance. The sounds of his breathing and cries were changing from human voices to the sounds of something else, but what kind of thing it was, it was completely impossible to find the corresponding object from the existing memory. It only gives the feeling that this is definitely not a human sound.

One fell, two fell, and three fell...... The rest of the people didn't look back, they pretended they didn't hear, they didn't dare to look back at the faces of the people who fell, they felt that once they looked at these people, they couldn't help but stop, and if they tried to help them, they would become exactly like them.

Even so, even if they didn't look back, they could feel that something was really catching up with the fall of their companions. It was something that had been chased from an alienated hall, or perhaps the alienated hall had become a part of it.

"It's coming, it's coming, it's coming." The cries grew louder and louder, and the survivors couldn't help but cover their ears, even just hearing the sound was enough to make people feel like they were going crazy.

They don't see, they don't listen, they try not to think, they desperately tap into their own instincts, they run on their own. They don't know how many of their companions have been left behind, and they don't want to check it. Running in the dark, he obviously has many companions by his side, but it is becoming more and more like he is the only one left.

Alone, running alone in this terrifying and desperate darkness. The time is so long, the passage is so long, and the time it takes to run by myself has far exceeded the previous time to reach the depths of the research institute, the storage place of the LCL liquid, but I didn't see anything. There is no end to the up, down, left, right, front and back, and there is no end, infinite and wide darkness.

The road was so smooth that there were no obstacles, and it seemed that no matter which direction they ran, they would not hit the wall, but sometimes, they wished they could hit something normal, so that they could remind themselves that they were still in a real environment, not a nightmare. If you stumble, will you be able to escape from this seemingly endless despair and darkness?

Of course, no one wants to trip their hands from the depths of darkness.

When the word "hand" comes to mind, they immediately realize it...... No, they don't want to realize that they are trying to stop their brains.

Eventually, they all tripped up. My body ached, and I rolled on the ground several times, only to feel like I was going to be grabbed by a "hand" in the dark. Immediately, however, a bright light unfolded in their field of vision. The bright graphics temporarily dispel the darkness and bring them back to a more realistic world. They heard familiar sounds, both the color of the light and the outline of the object, which was more reassuring than the previous darkness.

This familiar everything made them can't help but let go of their tense brains and let out a long breath. They lay on the ground, feeling the familiar, hard and cold touch, and only felt that their whole being was sublimated. For a long time, they couldn't continue to think, they couldn't get up from the ground, and the terrifying chase and escape made them feel that they had squeezed every cell of themselves.

After a long time, someone slowly propped up and walked in the direction he had come—he tried to confirm where he had come, and what was the situation where he and others had entered and exited, but he immediately stopped, because in the direction he was looking, where did the entrance come from? There was only one smooth, hard wall.

His face contorted, and he clutched his head hard, and he didn't want to think about it, but terrible thoughts still vaguely came out of his mind. Fortunately, a sudden shout behind him pulled him: "We are safe, we are safe!" We escaped! ”

The shouter was as if he wanted to vent his throbbing emotions, screaming hoarsely, dancing with his hands, and going crazy, but such a neurotic expression spoke to everyone's mind. Everyone hopes that this is the case: that they and others are safe for the time being.