The hollow call that sounded in the darkness was very abrupt, and almost at the moment when this strange voice sounded, Lizzie immediately hid her breath.

Human beings are afraid of the dark, not because of the concept of "darkness", but because of the unknown that lurks in the darkness.

The author of Lizzie's favorite popular novels once said that the oldest and deepest human emotion is fear, and the deepest fear is the fear of the unknown. It is precisely because of its unclear nature and ability to cover things that darkness makes people feel afraid of it.

But Lizzie was not frightened by the darkness of this point.

There are two ways to overcome the fear of darkness. One is to light a light that pierces the darkness and illuminates the unknown that lurks beneath the shadows. Otherwise, they will dye themselves black, assimilate themselves into the darkness, and become a being hidden in the darkness together.

Lizzie undoubtedly chose the latter—or rather, exposing her to the light would make her more uncomfortable. In the darkness where she couldn't see her fingers, Lizzie was quite calm. She calmly surveyed her surroundings, searching for the direction from which the voice calling for her had come.

What happened?

She hidden, blending into the darkness, then searching for the source of the sound through the recurring images.

Remnants do not interact with the person who enters them, they stay in their own time and space, and they only stage images from the past. After all, these images are just "events" that have become a thing of the past, which can be seen and heard, but cannot affect each other in any way.

These past events are long gone, and the fragments that remain in the present will fade with time. When the person or thing that remembered these fragments disappears completely, the fragments begin to weather, eventually disintegrating into the indistinguishable fragments of the surrounding area, mixed with the dark sludge.

The fact that the afterimage is not associated with a person does not mean that some of the "things" that inhabit the phenomenon created by the afterimage do not. Most of them are silent and silent, just wandering through the apparitions of the past, but some are "beasts" that use these phantoms as their nests.

Lizzie knew that the search for her was probably a "beast".

"Where did you come from?"

The dark illusion obscured Lizzie's vision, preventing him from finding what was hidden in the illusion in the first place. The owner of the voice had captured Lizzie's breath and was now searching for her in the illusory building of black mud. The hollow voice couldn't stop calling, spreading through the dark space.

After entering the state of the soul, the space around Liqi has not been peaceful. A lot of noisy sounds are mixed with a crackling sound like electromagnetic interference. To be honest, the constant noise hovering around her ears was quite unpleasant to Lizzie.

As if a mischievous ladle of water was poured on the stormy water, the sound disturbed the original subtle noise, and then set off waves that spread in all directions. The diffuse sound refracted back and forth between the phantom structures, creating echoes of varying sizes.

I don't know where the sound came from, and the sound is so devoid of any quality that it's hard to imagine what kind of owner the voice is. I can't tell if it's male or female, and the characteristics of the voice are masked by the flat sound method without any characteristics, so I can't hear a clue.

It doesn't seem like it was deliberately intended, but that's the nature of the sound.

"Where, where, where?"

It's still asking questions, and the source of the sound is getting closer.

It's a strange sound that makes it hard to imagine that it came from a person's mouth. The voice of the flat is like someone reciting a script without emotion, unconsciously hiding the feelings contained in the voice. If it weren't for that, the owner of the voice would have been an empty humanoid monster.

It was approaching, and Lizzie clearly felt the breath of the storage zài.

Step by step, the darkness grew colder, and even the air stopped moving. It's not that the air is muddy and dull, it's that they're frozen and stagnant. It was as if the convection of the air caused by the temperature difference was frozen as the darkness became cold.

"From where...... Who's there, where, ......?"

The noise has become stricter, and its call at a distance can still distinguish the grammar slightly, and the words are more or less clear in the electromagnetic interference. But as it got closer, the sound of the call became more and more indistinct, and the noise of the overpower made its call fragmented.

The sound of water was heard, like some kind of wet object dragging on the ground. Along with this voice comes the Being, who is constantly calling.

The reason why she called the thing that was gradually getting closer to her hiding place was "cunzài" because Lizzie couldn't think of any words to describe it for a while. It is not an "individual", but a "lump", a foreign body crumpled together out of a disgusting bad taste.

Yes - foreign bodies.

If the living weapons built up of living corpses and sludge that Curt encountered before were monsters, the spirits that appeared in Lizzie's sight in front of him could only be called "foreign objects".

Lizzie's gaze pierced through the veil of darkness to reveal what was hidden within—it was a human soul, and a dozen souls that maintained the silhouette of a human were spliced together to create this foreign object. Their bodies were in a terrible state, their scattered entrails and decaying limbs twisted into uncanny shapes, torsos, limbs, and internal organs...... It's all tangled, bloated and ugly.

"Coming, going?"

"Ho...... Therefore, who!"

The voices of the souls were constantly cried, and none of them were intact, and none of them were already in their original form. He opened his mouth to cry like a curse, and closed his mouth to swallow the black fragments. They struggled and crawled in the darkness to where Lizzie was.

In the midst of a crowd of whining and cursing heads, there was only one quiet place.

It was the soul of a woman, and she lowered her head and held her head with her hands. Although it is not easy to recognize when bent over, in fact, this woman is very tall, even to the point of incredibly Cheng dù. Even if the lower half of the body was buried in the tangled limbs, the upper body alone was a cut taller than Lizzie.

It was the best-preserved of the soul, a slender body covered in a faint pearl-white glow in a black outfit that almost assimilated into the pitch black around it. It's not just that the clothes are black, but even the eyes that are long and in the eye sockets are the same color.

No, that's not clothes.

The foreign object took a few steps closer, allowing Lizzie to see more clearly. Suddenly, her heart couldn't help but feel half cold—how could she think of all that "darkness" as something else?

It's all flowing darkness.

Whether it's a pitch-black "costume" or the length of a crow's wet feathers—it's sticky darkness. They flowed down from the top of the woman's head, covering the head and torso as if they were really long, and flowed all the way into the lower part of the entanglement of the limbs, leaving a trail on the ground.

Her fair face hung low, like a mask in the deep darkness. There were only two dark holes in what was supposed to be binocence, and the darkness of the same material as the "head" flowed out of it, like two lines of tears cutting through the unusually pale mask of the mask.

The truth is that these souls are the dregs of human beings after death. As long as death lasts for a day, the individual between life and death will not disappear. Souls, living corpses, or other "undead" who have died but are not dead, walk in their own way in this vast world.

Now, if someone asked Lizzie what suffering was, she would definitely point to the mass of soul in front of her without thinking and say that this was the aggregate of suffering.

The darkness that coiled around it was deeper than the debris that made up the building, and even the muddy blackness in the distance was inferior. With its body as the center, a deep darkness gushes out unrestrainedly, as if it is deliberately revealing its own sense of existence.

The colossal darkness danced in the darkness, etching the traces of substance into the illusion of nothingness. The darkness emanating from the mass was somewhat infectious, and the darkness of the transpiring mist remained in the place it passed, declaring that this was its territory.

It's also "dark", but the darkness that overflows on it is different from the silent black mud around it, and such a sharp feeling makes people's scalp numb.

This feeling may be especially familiar to painters, who are obviously the same type of color, but there are still several different differences. Although for those who do not know the principle, a cloud of pitch black only needs to be summed up in one sentence by "black", but for

For painters who come into contact with these colors all the time, all kinds of "black" have their own unique shapes and names, and cannot be confused.

This is because colors are something they have to come into contact with every day in their surroundings, so each color must be given its own name, showing a different meaning from that of a general vocabulary. The meaning of these independent nouns may seem like a rare term that most people will never be exposed to in their lifetime, but they have a considerable influence on their lives.

One word alone cannot convey the full picture of darkness, and even more so in this place where darkness is piled up.

It stood tall in a dark vortex, covered in discordant black.

"Come, who are you, ahh......hh Where ...... place"

The howls of pitch shifting are incessant.

-- Let's send them where they need to be.

Conscious undead beings still have the meaning of existence, but these souls are just repeating the same pain on the verge of harming and being harmed.

Lizzie sprang out of the shadows and struck a spot where foreign objects were hard to notice.

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