They exchanged pleasantries for a while, and then went off to find their favorite books, and at noon Eliza took her leave, her eyes shining with excitement, and a book on carpentry in her hand—perhaps inspired to put it into practice at once, Amon inferred, and watched the young craftsman walk out of the door with a brisk pace, and after walking ten meters to the right, he hurried back.

"Look at me, I forgot to register in a hurry."

She explained apologetically, then picked up the quill that had been placed on the coffee table and inserted it in an inkwell, and wrote down the date, name, and the name of the borrowed book on the small book with the table next to her, and then left in a hurry.

I really don't understand. Amun thought to himself, he remembered that a few days ago there were many people talking about the upcoming holiday, but when he was really in the middle of it, when he really had the opportunity to lie on the couch for as long as he wanted, he couldn't help but find things for himself—his father was really right, the essence of human nature is self-torture.

Well, I'm left alone now. Amon wandered aimlessly from bookcase to shelf, sometimes not knowing how to pass the time, and the time that was so long that there was no end in sight accumulated so much that it seemed to give off a damp and rotten musty smell, making him feel as if he had become a wilting mushroom.

As this strange metaphor popped into his mind, he moved on to the "textbook section" and was caught by a book called "Introduction to Religious Studies." Amon remembered Thoth's mockery of the gods, and he wondered how he had created the image of "God" in the hearts of the people, the young.

He took the book down, and because of the bookmark in it, he turned to the middle at once, and an illustration that occupied a page slowly came into view—a red-haired and black-armored angel of war riding a horse and a sword, which was called a high-spirited "tsk" Amun in disgust, just like a devout Christian who saw the number 13 and quickly turned a page while leaning back slightly.

"If you look like that, the serpent will be sad, and this is his pride."

The bad guy is coming. Amon thought to himself, and then closed the book with a "snap", and the man gathered all his breath and leaned behind him, smiling and moaning, but in the form of a woman.

A beautiful image flashed into his mind, in the crumbling mirage, in the blood-stained water, two figures intertwined with each other, indistinguishable from each other—compared to many of his colleagues, the Hidden Sage was almost as clear as boiled water, but the Angel of Time had the privilege of seeing His confused state.

The dim light seemed to play an ambiguous trick, and the presence standing in front of him had an incomprehensible beauty.

"Change your image once in a while." Minerva, with a calm eyebrow, smiled slightly, "Judging by your reaction, this looks pretty good, it seems that my aesthetic is not outdated."

Is my reaction obvious? Amon looked away and pretended that the book in his hand was more attractive. "Although I knew that you have a wide range of hobbies, I didn't expect to play a beautiful girl among them."

"I'll work with you." Amon realized that he was still in the Mona Lisa, and Minerva straightened the folds in his wide-brimmed hat, "You look like the little witch from our film and television productions of that era." ….

"You may have forgotten that a few days ago your followers shaved a witch's hair and smeared her face with soot to make her look like a ghost, and the charm bonus from the potion was crushed to the point where there was no scum left."

He vaguely expressed the suspicion that "is this really a compliment?"

"The definition of a witch in our time is not the same as it is now." Minerva smiled, "You don't need to have a big chest, a waist, a thin leg, or you don't need to turn people upside down, you just need to wave a small stick called a 'wand' and recite some incantations that the gods are chattering. In the general impression of the public, they always wear a wide-brimmed peaked hat, like to fly around on a broomstick, and pick up a child to raise when they have nothing to do."

"Did you eat it when you raised it?" Amon asked deliberately.

"That's right." Minerva replied matter-of-factly, "Rather than watch the child he raised with his own hands become a crumpled old man, in fear of his destined death, it is better to do it when he is at his most beautiful and lively."

He eats it—so that his best will remain in his heart."

"Oh."

"Oh what, oh." Minerva sighed and poked him in the forehead, "I am talking nonsense, it should be easy to tell, right?"

Amon grimaced, "It's because it's not difficult to see, so there's no need to pierce it."

Minerva glared at Him with beautiful eyes, but after a brief moment of looking at Him, He became uncomfortable and voluntarily dispersed this beautiful illusion, and when Minerva turned back into Thoth, Mona Lisa also changed back into Amun.

Thoth gave him a look of surprise, and Amun mimicked his tone and said, "Cooperate with you."

After a long time together, they cultivated a certain tacit understanding, and Amon had a hunch that the other party was going to talk about some important topics, and in front of important topics, it was not appropriate to use illusions.

"I read that diary." Thoth was the first to speak, and Amon noticed the caution with which He spoke—not to see, but to read.

"Eight days." The Angel whispered, "I have been waiting for this phrase after mixing that journal with the sacrifice and contemplating it, and have conceived of all sorts of developments."

The angel's eyes were as dark as night as if there were sparks twinking, and Thoth noticed that he was deliberately suppressing the corners of his mouth—it seemed that the mere fact that "reading that diary" was great news in itself, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl slightly.

He made an appearance of humbly asking for advice, "What is the worst development in your imagination?"

"You've read the contents of the journal, but pretended you didn't see anything—after all, there are so many sacrifices, and you have every reason to overlook a mediocre thick book." Amon looked at Him intently, "But the contents made you feel sick and uneasy, so you began to quietly distance yourself from me, and put on the politeness of the social arena, as if I was a nodding acquaintance everywhere, but now it seems ......."

Angel smiled with relief. "You're not that disgusted."

Thoth deliberately kept a straight face, "What if I actually hate you, but actually pretend to be eager for you in order to take advantage of you?"

Amon couldn't help but laugh, "Adam's imagination is not so outrageous, why do you put the script of the negative person on yourself? Of course, if you have the desire to act, I and my doppelganger don't mind......"....

"Stop! I don't have a habit of role-playing!" Thoth crossed his hands in front of his chest, and then smiled wryly, "Why me? Since then?"

Amon had a very helpless expression.

"If there is a person who has been with you since childhood, knowing that you are a mythical creature of lawlessness and lawlessness, but who is willing to teach you gently and patiently, and to explain the teachings of the holy scriptures to you in a vivid and understandable way, although he occasionally shows a stern and serious expression, he never thinks that you are hopeless, and that you are born a bad seed; I know that you don't have to sleep, but I will dry the quilt and pillow loose and soft for you, and I know that you don't need to eat, but I am willing to prepare snacks and meals for you, play the piano for you, and tell you stories...... You dare to say that you don't have some different feelings for Him?"

Thoth's face burned a little, and he said as calmly as he could, "I'm just doing your father's request, fulfilling my duties as guardian."

"I knew you would say that."

Amon moved closer, his voice a little hoarse, "As a natural mythical creature, I am not as gifted in emotions as you were born to be human. You can distinguish between various feelings, nostalgia for your hometown, worry about your father, a sense of responsibility for believers, and love for the young...... It's like a garden with all kinds of flowers. But the soil of my name is barren, and there are not so many kinds of flowers and trees on it, but only a layer of moss."

"When it comes to an elder who can be relied upon to solve puzzles, I think of you; When it comes to a brother who can be coquettish, I think of you; When I think of a friend who doesn't feel embarrassed even if he doesn't say anything, I still think of you."

"When I think of a partner who can spend a long time together, I think of you."

He looked a little aggrieved and a little annoyed, with black eyes

There was a glow of water in it, and it was a trembling heart to see it.

"I can't frame an object in a specific emotion of family, friendship, and love like ordinary people, and my feelings for you are not pure - but you can't say that something that is not pure is unreasonable and should not exist."

"I'm not going to blame you." After a long silence, Thoth sighed softly, "If feelings could be prescribed in rules and follow certain rules, then there would not be so many moths in the world. It's just that I'm not as good as you think, I have too much sustenance, beware of disappointment."

"They're mythical creatures, not saints, and I know to restrain those unrealistic expectations, but don't be too yourself."

Thoth's lips moved, but before he could organize his words, Amon stepped forward, and he took his hand from under the broad sleeve of his robe, raised it to his lips, and touched it like a dragonfly.

"Let's try."

Well, just try it, and there won't be a lack of meat anyway. With such a mentality, I looked down and was ready to break up after the freshness passed.

But people are not as good as heaven, and Thoth did not expect that this attempt would be hundreds of years.

Habit is an incredible force.

He was accustomed to the black crow feathers between the pages, to the flowers in a vase that never decayed, to the wizarding hat that appeared from time to time on the bedside table, and to the wire forging under the pillow that wiped the lenses. ….

Angels appear more and more frequently in His life.

He was there when he complained about Solomon's growing suspicions; He was there when he complained about the strange prayers of believers; He was there when he visited the surviving city-states of God's forsaken land; He was there at the feast when he threw off the stinking and long footcloth of the founding day; He was there when he was tinkering with chemistry experiments in his pajamas; He was also there when he went to the Divine War Ruins to gather a set of parameters needed to build a vehicle.

Thoth was not disgusted, and even felt that this mode of getting along was somewhat familiar.

"Are you two conjoined babies?"

This was Medici's assessment, and Thoth finally remembered where this familiarity came from, because it seemed to be the same thing in the Tertiary period, except that the little crow became a big crow, and the small clump became a tall and thin one, which took up more space, but it was not annoying.

Yelena smiled and said, "This time I agree with my father."

The smile tugged at the wrinkles on her face, she was no longer young, her red hair was dappled white, like snow falling on red flowers.

Amon and Medici taunt each other, and Thoth looks at the girl he has raised since he was a child, and his heart palpitates.

Time flows quietly, bringing the sadness of decay as well as the joy of life, and for the people of God's Forsaken Land, the struggle and suffering of the past hundred years seems to be precisely for the present.

Sent to the Forsaken Land through a ritual of bestowal, the scapegoat feeds on black-faced grass watered by the blood of its relatives and bears all the sins of the people of the Silver City, being slain once every time a new generation is born, and then sewing its head and body together, surrounded by the flesh of the monster - the creation of the true Creator, surrounded by the breath of depravity, its dying life is brought back to life after a day and a night.

It died again and again, and the people of Silver City grew up healthy from generation to generation, and passed away peacefully from generation to generation, without having to become a brutal evil spirit or be beheaded by their loved ones.

Outside of Silver City, with the help of countless doppelgangers and a few secret prayers who volunteered to make a pilgrimage here, the rest of the surviving city-states also established contacts one after another, and people began to know that they were not alone in this land shrouded in despair, and when the various city-states began to exchange resources and exchange ideas under the coordination of several true creator believers, the big ship that would take everyone to the new world was gradually taking shape - its designer was a few Stiano who jumped from craftsmen to voyeurs, The power of mystery and the power of technology are perfectly combined by them, and the high-ranking ones also bless it.

The Red Angel said, "I give you steel and iron bones, so that you need not fear the reef in the shadows and the sharp teeth of the sea monsters."

The Creator said, "I give thee flesh and blood that endure without end, and thy life force comes from thee

This is inexhaustible."

The angel of destiny said, "I grant you miraculous good fortune, may the turbulent vortex turn a blind eye to you, and every day of your voyage will be sunny."

The Hidden Sage said, "I give you wings of starlight, which will give you a glimmer of life in the face of unrivaled dangers."

Amon looked at Tho's close-up words on scratch paper and asked, "Would Medici say such a thing?"

"It doesn't matter." "The important thing is that I plan to use this as a new test center for the basic course of religious studies, and the content of the exam must always be up-to-date and constantly updated."

A prayer was heard, and the smile on Thoth's face faded.

"What's wrong?"

"Yelena is dead."

There was no obvious sadness on His face, just a little dazed expression, and Amon didn't say anything, just shook His hand.

./hariot