The formless behemoth was about to rise from what seemed to be nothing, and huge shadows were already swimming in the earth beneath Father Sissen, and even more evil forms were constantly transforming on the huge red moon, and no one knew what it was. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 Both of them give Father Sissen a strong sense of fear, making him feel as if he has come to the end of the world, where all tangible things have decayed, even time and space have been eroded, and those who see and cannot see seem to have come to the junction of being and non-existence, real and hallucination.

Father Sissen's mystical powers are not deprived, but in the face of more mysterious and powerful forces - no, Father Sissen does not feel that this is simply a concept of "strength or weakness", but that something deeper is at work. Something that you can't understand, something that you can't observe, something that is far from your own cognition, is happening on a level that you can't be aware of. Although he didn't see it and couldn't really feel it, the spark that occasionally flashed out of his heart made him believe that this was the case.

In the face of this terrifying unknown mystery, even the magic patterns and critical weapons that also belong to the unknown cannot bring him the slightest sense of security. In fact, he knew very well that he was being affected by those mysterious forces, whether it was on the material or immaterial level, whether it was from the level that he could feel or from the level that he could not feel, this influence was there, there was no doubt about it, because he had been hurt, and he felt a kind of dying precursor.

He heard a whisper, not from the outside, but from within, as if there was already such an anomalous villain in his own mind at some point. When you don't realize that it exists, it seems as if it doesn't exist, but the moment you realize that it exists there, it becomes more and more real. Thinking, searching for one's own heart, tempering one's own will, expanding one's own cognition, all the acts of discovering external things, and all the acts of exploring the inside of oneself, will find traces of its existence, and curiosity will take itself to where it is, which is an inevitability, a kind of fate that all tormented and vigorous intelligent beings must face in the leap-forward development, in the trembling struggle for survival.

- Ah......

In the burst and twisted emotion, Father Sissen wants to sing, to record, to praise, to curse, to describe all this, both self and external, all the changes that can be felt in himself, and the meaning that some clues hidden in these changes may reveal. However, when he opened his mouth, he could not make a sound, and all the sounds sounded only in his head, accompanied by the terrifying murmur, as if guarding the murmur that did not belong to him.

Father Sissen can't think of any words to record, describe, praise or curse all this. He didn't feel that he was demented, but that the human words he was familiar with had become so narrow in the face of the grand and deadly evil that he could feel, imagine, and perceive from the rational and emotional level, that it was like a small bottle that could not contain the water of the river and the sea.

So, he just repeated the wail of "ah-ah-ah-" in his head.

The truths that I had hoped to seek seemed to be insignificant in the face of the signs of horror that had already appeared. No, perhaps it should be said that those truths have been manifested in this terrible sign, and they have seen it, but they cannot understand it deeply, and the fragile intellect of oneself as a human being can only allow oneself to be superficial when it sees the truth.

Father Sissen thought that if he could understand all this, then he would not be so afraid. On the other hand, isn't it because you can't understand all of this because you can't understand it all? I want to grow but I don't have time, I want to learn but I don't have the opportunity, I want to trek but I don't have a way, I want to move forward through all obstacles, but there is a deep cliff ahead. Within the limits of what you can think and imagine, there is nothing you can do.

- Ahh......h Me, I, I need, miracles.

Father Sissen's mind could only be stitched together with the idea that he needed some kind of miracle that would not be transferred by his own will, but also by the presence of these two terrible things. He needed a grander, even something so terrifying, that he had to follow, even if he was in the midst of it.

However, he could not find it, he could not see it, he could see it, and he could not recognize it.

Father Sissen's expression was so distorted, his eyeballs bulged out as if they were about to fall out of his sockets, his ears seemed to be twisted together, his nostrils shrunk to only two holes, his lips seemed to be glued, the skin of his face was a reddish-brown rust color, and the blood vessels were like some meaningful totemic texture, twisting and bulging on his face. Even those parts of the limbs that have been prosthetized seem to have been distorted, turning back to the color of flesh and blood, and growing tumors again.

It was only when a burning pain spread from his right wrist throughout his body that Father Sissen suddenly woke up. He sensed that his back had merged with the fragments of the structure he was leaning on, and as soon as he got up, he tore the flesh of his back and the prosthetic structure that had turned back to flesh.

However, he did not hesitate to do so. With the power of the Demonic Super, the sharp "wind" is like a whirling jagged, separating the back from the fragments of the construct. Then the heat swam through his body with sharp pain, and the flesh swelled in a way that filled the huge wound in his back. He has hardly felt such pain since the prosthetic, and the pain is only a signal of complex function for the prosthetic, but at this moment, this signal finally reverts back to the real but sensual fear and warning that comes from the instinct of the human flesh.

Father Sissen knew that the prosthetic body that had supported him in defeating many opponents, as if he could rely on it all the way, had become ineffective on this battlefield. The forces that had made him feel so powerful were nothing more than an illusion—he had always told himself that, but when he actually experienced it, he was even more impressed, and of course, he preferred not to be in such a situation before him to experience it.

In any case, he finally survived a wave of invisible, not intentionally attacked by those two monsters. His own weakness, so that the other party just exists here, and a little show of his own sense of existence, he is already dying.

Twisted and ugly, Father Sissen, who had become a monster in the eyes of anyone, looked up at the sky, and he could not calculate how much time had passed between the time he had been affected and the time he had been temporarily freed from it. The sky and the earth, as well as the space separated by the two, the constantly manifesting anomaly does not seem to have changed much, but perhaps, in fact, it has changed dramatically, but it is impossible to observe it.

The dark shadow in the huge red moon became clearer, but the huge red moon also seemed to be closer to the ground, as if it was only a hundred meters high. Even if it was really a hundred meters high, Father Sissen couldn't help but have an urge to bend down. The dark shadow is so clear, so close, but can you really see it clearly?

At the thought of this, Father Sissen felt that he felt something more: the distorted black shadow was not exactly a female body, but only a part of it, but around it was a group of dancing prolonged, twig-like outlines, tentacles. It's like the trunk of a tree, like the roots of a tree, like a spreading ink, like a thread of ink that splits out of the ink, and the female body is embedded in this tree, in the center of this drop of ink.

It was a barely describable image, but it had never appeared in Father Sissen's imagination, and it was full of unexpected and unexpected grotesqueness, but as soon as you saw it, you could be sure that it was not man-made, or rather, had nothing to do with "humanity" at all, and was completely separated from all the systems involved in human beings so far.

In the space on the earth that Father Sissen's eyes could see, from the distorted scene, from the folds of space that were indirectly presented by the distorted scenes, from the invisible parts between the folds and layers, masses of formless and insubstantial things were pouring out. It is colorless, but it is also colorful, and these terms used to describe its appearance are not enough to describe it accurately, so we have to use such a contradictory statement.

Although Fr. Sissen can use this paradoxical statement to describe the outpouring of the formless and insubstantial thing he feels, he cannot go further to describe what it really looks like: does it have a shape? Is it a gas or a solid? Or are they particles smaller than subatoms? Or is it some kind of energy?

In short, this intangible and insubstantial thing seemed to Father Sissen like a large cloud of soap bubbles, accumulating more and more, and when they came into contact with the earth, the earth would melt, and when it came into contact with the wind, the air flow would stop, leaving visible translucent traces in the air, and on contact with fire, the heat would disappear, leaving behind patches of ash that were clearly material. Father Sissen tried to touch this intangible and intangible thing with a pustule on his arm, and one of his arms was immediately gouged out, the wound was smoothed, and then a large number of tumors grew from the cross-section of the wound frantically, and from these tumors reconstructed the shape of a "hand".

At this moment, no matter which mysterious expert saw Father Sissen at this time, he must have mistaken him for a gray mist demon because of his appearance.

The magic pattern was burning all the time, transmitting burning pain, and the bracelet-like critical weapon also sparked from time to time, perhaps it was the efforts of the two that prevented Father Sissen from being overwhelmed by this large stream of formless and insubstantial things. Although he could not see it, he felt that the formless and insubstantial thing had bypassed him as if it were hiding from the filth—it was not afraid, but it did not want to touch it for no reason in a chaotic consciousness, just as a human being does not deliberately step on dog shit.

As long as you do nothing, like a stone, and persevere in the aftermath of the onslaught, then you may be safe—the thought came to Father Sissen's mind. But, on the flip side, who can be sure that the unintentional impact will not kill them. These two monsters are so incredible, can they really all resist head-on with the anomalies and mysterious impacts they form in their unconscious activities without dodging?

I still need a miracle, I must rely on a miracle, and I have no choice but to wait for some external change to change my current predicament. This is the most disadvantageous situation for all.

Father Sissen did not move, but the ink-like, female-like, tree-like tentacles that descended from the red moon had already come into contact with the formless and insubstantial things that could only be perceived by feeling. All the whims that had arisen before the contact, after Father Sissen felt that they had come into contact, boiled like boiling water—this was a description, a feeling, and Father Sissen could not confirm any more of the situation, because the changes at this time were so complex and so intense, but the parts that he could perceive were already drowning out his ability to think, and the parts that he did not perceive turned into shocks and passed by him.

Then, as if Father Sissen's body had been delayed, he showed a large number of cuts. Maybe it was the power of the magic pattern and the critical weapon that kept him from really being split, and those wounds didn't leave blood, and the growth of abnormal flesh and blood quickly made up for the wounds, making his body swell in a circle, like a fat man with lumps of flesh.

The sheer weight weighed down Father Sissen, but in the still functioning brain and hardware, all his data was normal, and he didn't need to breathe at all. He couldn't dismiss everything he felt as an illusion, but he couldn't see it all as real, and he couldn't distinguish between reality and illusion. He only knew one thing, even if he denied some anomaly in his body from the bottom of his heart, he couldn't save himself. This is no longer the case that can be explained by the simple dichotomous definitions of "matter" and "consciousness" in common sense.

The phenomena caused by these two monsters seem to have the unity of observing the phenomena of things. To explain this feeling in scientific terms, it is like two living unified theories unfolding before our eyes. However, logically speaking, this feeling is wrong, because there are no two unified theories that can explain the phenomena of all things, and such a feeling is contrary to the idea of one and all. The contradiction between logic and feeling breeds a huge sense of maddening distortion, just like the feeling of an obsessive-compulsive person when he looks at something that does not conform to his own harmonious concept.