The homemade flashlight was not shining, and Bender could barely see a few meters ahead.

It looks like an underground mine, with a lot of condensed muddy water on the damp rock walls. They dripped, dripping over his head, and finally tumbling down the corners of his clothes into the muddy ground.

The surrounding walls were carved out,—— but they were so old that Bender could not help but shiver in the darkness at the horror of reverie.

As he cautiously moved forward, Bender whispered Mosilaire's name,—— only to be met with a twisted echo of a descending tone and a deathly silence that followed—as if he were trapped in isolation from the world inside some giant monster and had lost the right to leave forever.

Bender tried to keep himself calm, trying to find the familiar figure in the white metal reflections of the passageway.

But after a few forks and turns, Bender suddenly found himself completely lost in this damned, labyrinthine pit - no matter which way he went, no matter how much he struggled, he was just pushing through one darkness and plunging into the arms of another!

Bender tries to find a way back, but he soon finds out in despair that his mark has long been obscured by a deep dark imprint in the distant years,—— he is doomed!

"Bender!"

A clear shout came from the black fog not far behind him.

"Who!?" Hurrying and sweating, Bender turned abruptly and pointed the pump-action shotgun he held tightly behind him, but the white-than-nothing light of the flashlight hanging on his chest didn't shine anything, and all he could see was still the same shit darkness that had been trapped for him for an unknown amount of time!

The voice was familiar to him, but he couldn't find any information about the owner of the voice from his panicked brain, as if it was just an auditory hallucination he had caused when he was too stressed, and for some unknown reason he subconsciously thought he had heard it.

Bender slowly exhaled the stuffy breath in his chest—it seemed that the underground had not been filled with fresh air for a long time was very dull, and the air that had been deposited seemed to be mixed with some kind of strange and incongruous rancid smell, which was extremely uncomfortable.

"Bender!"

But as soon as he turned around, the voice sounded again, this time he heard it more clearly, it was an emotionless female voice - but it sounded like it was within half a meter of him, almost on his back - how could that be!?

Bender's hair was shivering, and he swore that whoever was so mischievous would not hesitate to shoot immediately!

But he still saw nothing, and the darkness that filled his vision was still dark—a deep, dark darkness that seemed to be brewing with some kind of malevolent intent.

"Whoever you are, you'd better show up for me right away!" Bender roared hoarsely, but he couldn't hear anything reliable except for the increasingly eerie echoes of his own collision in the narrow tunnel.

"Bender!"

"Bastard!" The pump-action shotgun in Bender's hand almost fell to the ground—he couldn't mishear—or the same voice, that cold voice,—— whispered in his ear just now!

He felt the cold breath of the thing blowing on the back of his head—it was everywhere!

Damn monster, he's in danger!

"Ahhh!!hhh Bender pulled the trigger frantically toward the damn darkness, but he couldn't feel anything but the sparks that the projectile had fired and splashed against the icy granite walls and the loud sound of the shot that was now echoing across the lonely, narrow knife. His senses seemed to be stripped away by these strange black mist.

Of course he won't be reconciled,—— he won't give in!

Bender, who was nearly devastated, tried to start reloading his ammo, but his hands, which began to tremble violently, always shook to the ground as he took them from his pockets - as if something was approaching!

"-you-!" Bender, on the verge of despair, let out a hoarse roar and waved his shotgun wildly, trying to save his life by hitting the silverfish lurking in the shadows,—— but he was done, finished!

"Be quiet." At the critical moment, a soft, steady voice came from behind Bender and sheathed something over his head. "Keep up with me."

It was the soft voice of Miss Mosilaire, and it sounded as if it had regained its former calm and bravery—it soothed Bender's agitation and gave him strength in his desperate mind.

But the most important thing that calmed him down was the uniquely shaped helmet that was being worn on his head at this time.

In fact, Mosilaire was wearing one of these helmets on his head.

The emotionally stable Bender quickly recognized it: it was a psychic helmet.

The expensive and rare psychic helmet was lined with a precision foil that absorbed psychic shockwaves, so it minimized the impact of psychic attacks on the wearer—he had seen it in a science fiction book—at least until then he did think it was a "science fiction book."

"Let's go." Before Bender could react, Mosile had already grabbed his arm and tossed and turned in a darkness that seemed to never end.

The hand temperature coming from the arm was cold, very cold—hardly like what a living person should be.

A terrible thought crossed Bender's mind - Mosilaire's temperature didn't seem normal - was she okay?

Or - is she still alive?!

If the familiar figure in front of him wasn't her, Bender meant, not the Mosilaire he was familiar with, then who else could there be but the two of them in this huge, silent grave-like depths of the earth at this moment?

The shout seemed to ring in Bender's ears again, long, cold, and maddening.

Thankfully, a dim light soon appeared in the bend ahead—they seemed to be back on the platform—and Bender and Mosilaire were finally able to leave the eerie place!

Both Bender and Mosilaire began to pick up their pace, and eventually emerged from the darkness and stepped on the only means of transportation from here.

Only then did Mosilere let go of his arm that had been dragged to the ground and activated the upward gate knife on the platform's control panel.

"Bang-"

The lifting platform under his feet began to move slowly as the blade was pulled down, moving upwards at an extremely anxious speed.

The friction of the massive transmission mechanism from the platform's activation echoed between the deep passages and spread deeper at a rapid speed, eventually colliding back and forth into an even more bizarre, cacophony that made one wonder if such violent movements would attract some twisted creatures lurking in the depths of darkness that had not yet been recorded by humans.

"Hurry, hurry!" Bender noticed that her companion seemed nervous, and she had been staring at the darkness ahead since the platform was activated, with an unusual anxiety and worry between her brows.

"Bender!"

From the darkness came an anxious cry without warning.

"What?!"

Bender, who had relaxed against the railing of the platform, suddenly turned bloodless—he would not be mistaken—the voice that came from the terrifying darkness was clearly Mosilaire's.

Who is next to him?

Mosilaire's face beside him changed suddenly, and he snatched the pump-activated shotgun from Bender's hand and aimed at a figure that had emerged from the darkness.

Bender hurriedly grabbed it again, but it was too late!

"Bang ——!"

The deafening sound of gunfire made Bender dizzy beside him, and the irritating tinnitus left his mind blank, and he almost fell to the ground on his feet.

"Ban-" The shouts stopped abruptly with the gunshots, and a humanoid creature of Mosilaire's stature was hit by a projectile and fell to the metal tiles for several seconds, slices of bright red blood pouring out of her body and staining the white metal tiles around her!

Mosilele killed another Mosilele!

"Oh my God! What are these things!? Bender, who was almost collapsing, supported himself with his hands so that he wouldn't slide off the railing of the platform - his legs were really a little weak.

Mosilaire tossed the pump-action shotgun back to Bender, then stood motionless and looked at him, "They will imitate all the lost travelers who enter the underground facilities, and lure their original owners into the shadows to brutally kill them, and finally take their place in a grand way, leaving the underground where they were confined forever." ”

"No one can tell from their original owners from their appearances." Mosilaire smiled, but it looked a little creepy and eerie in the dim light, "Still, they inherited the physical characteristics and all the memories of their original owners in the darkness - who's to say it's not him or her?" ”

Bender's throat rolled, and he couldn't quite shake off his fear to organize logical words out of his mushy head.

"Where's your gun?" Bender suddenly discovers that the advanced charged rifle that Mosilaire has always carried with him is missing—and even his shotgun has been "borrowed" to attack the monster.

"Lost." Mosilaire's tone was flat, as if what had been lost was not one of her favorite and cherished objects, but nothing more than a pack of tissues, a pencil, or something simple.

Bender soon discovers that Mosilaire is wearing a dirty, old-fashioned lab robe, and through the collar of the white robe, you can see that the old shirt inside is faded—the clothes she must have found from the underground facility—but why should she wear it?

It was incredible, but Mosilele only gave Bender a very unusually cold gaze in response to another questioning—Bender was so uncomfortable with this cold gaze that he closed his mouth in embarrassment.

"I have to warn you," she said, standing in a dark corner with her back to him, "you've never seen anything strange,—— and all that was a mess of stones and a collapsed pit down there. ”

Bender's throat rolled, but he didn't dare to speak.

Once again, there was an eerie silence on the platform, filled the suffocating air with only the creaking noise of the platform.

After an unknown amount of time, the old guy who kept making all kinds of strange noises when it was running finally slowly squirmed and climbed to the top.

Bender let out a long breath, but he quickly saw Old Knife and Winnie frown.

"Where's Sister Mosilaire?" Winnie was a little confused.

"She ......," Bender looked around—but there was nothing—nothing.

An unspeakable fear quickly took over his mind.

He looked at his hand again—in addition to the one he had on his head, he held another helmet in his left hand—but he couldn't remember when he had picked it up.

Bender lowered his helmet and looked at the shotgun he was carrying in his right hand.

He remembered that he had loaded it with ammunition when he fled—but now that the magazine was empty, and the barrel was still a little warm—it showed that the gun had been used not long ago.

But was that person who used it really Mosilele?

Bender got goosebumps - what if the person who shot was himself?

Did he ,—— he killed Mosilaire by mistake?