Once the relationship is established, Bochou falls into a self-dug tomb, into a temporary death that is more beautiful than any life experience. Come to think of it, this deal is a lot of money, and with a superdimensional ability like him, who has a difficult time even entering a real sleep, the greatest blessing is to meet this person who is slightly higher than him.

Lost in the handcuffs and shackles of time, Pochou only needs to receive all the ways she casts with him. She is the seducer, and he is the conditioner; She amputated her leg on the spot, and he caressed it delicately and gently. She slashed out the flesh-stained ore from Bocian's inner body, striking at the foreign object that had been with him since birth, and before the pain could invade his heart, he filled the hole in consciousness that should have been difficult to heal.

She is an executioner, director, analyst; He is a lost relative, a bosom friend, a pet. She worked with him to clean up Bochouan's body and mind until the moment of separation came. After this battle, he was able to face things that he had not dared to reveal before.

And all of this comes at a small cost. That's right, he provides data in a half-dream situation, uses parasensory abilities, and helps design actions to break the heels of his prey. Ambiguous Nymph's companions design a ball, and Pojoan, who is a guest, must repay them with a small favor. They wanted to take someone and reclaim the dominance that had been interrupted for a long time, and that was another time-shifting event that Bojunan had no idea about.

In this way, he lies in the paradise of no time, and the "self", which is higher than the time dimension, sees the synopsis of the story that is about to happen.

Those fragments are all fugue before he awakens, somewhere between fantasy and history. Vaguely, he remembered that a truly immortal superlife had told him that if it was too sad a story, he should not tell it to others, and just keep it for himself to taste. But he really didn't understand, it was because he couldn't bear the grief anymore that he had to pull someone to sip the grief together, this is the true color of the story?

Or perhaps, the person who used to say this used to be unable to extricate himself, so he mistakenly thought that everything didn't matter, and no matter how many waves and changes there were, they were just dust rubbing into the black space?

In the warm sea just before he was born again, Bochouan remembered Leora's appearance with a little confusion, and began to think, secretly hoping that there was another inextricable opportunity, reserved for the wanderer who was sadder and more permanent than time.

*********************

Bits and pieces of time slammed down on Leola like piles of soft and fluffy pillows, gently and massively striking each of his cells that could not be separated from consciousness.

The experience of displacement on the giant space-time axis was nothing more than a trivial to him, but until this time, he had manipulated the spacing, writing vectors, and coordinates himself, as if he were carrying a deftly rotating trans-space-time baton. Now he is a slender strip of cheese, tumbling in the "chaos" of gelatinous protoplasm, which cannot be broken, but extends endlessly at the dimensional junction of each parallel universe.

The fragments gradually sank into his drowsy subconscious, like drops of crystalline alcohol melted into a sea of yeast, covering his ever-rotating vision. In the faint light, he tried to find anchor, but let the fragmentary memories fall head-on, like a frightened swan slapping on the surface of the lake. Helpless, he allowed himself to float and sink, no longer trying to find the main point of control that kept him farther and farther away.

In the staggered halo of colorful light, he saw Lucifer with a childish and sly chuckle, his hands on his waist, and his vivid figure reflected like a gem cut through the darkness. As if trying to bewilder him even more, Lucifer pulled out a flamingo-colored feather and brushed the soft corners of Leora's pursed lower lip.

He opened his mouth to speak, but found that he could not move, and his body turned into a milky white liquid that flew away. Matter collided with waves, just as they looked at each other. Lucifer's voice was the only wave he could feel, snapping into his world, all visible and invisible.

"We'll meet again before it all began. Time folds between you and me, and before you can cross your own tides and rainstorms, beyond which there is no Ark's life-sustaining device. ”

"Because you can't die, sometimes it's harder to live well, remember."

Those words were like a swarm of small meteorites on fire, passing through the levels of the solar wind and the radiation vortex. His unformed questions filled his mouth, and the three-dimensional twisting could pull him into

"You woke up, and luckily it wasn't in vain. I'm giving up a rare scene in a hundred years to take care of you, an unexpected visitor who fell into the starburst junction! ”

Leaning over to look at his face, he was born with a dazzling appearance, and it was difficult to decide whether to be attracted or withdrawn. High willow eyebrows, excessively deep sunken eye sockets are living pink eyeballs, dark red with several strokes of floating and convex, like a pair of internally bleeding fruits; Silver-white hair competes with a clear complexion, and the expression on his face is as good as a death row prisoner or a bad-mouthed doctor.

Before he could answer, his vision was interrupted by the scenery above him. The transparent skylight swept over the glazed fire beams one after another, which was a familiar spectacle. This is the wonder of the "Milky Way of Buscia" -

At the loneliest time of every century, when the meridian was aligned with the green sun "Mina" and the planet's surface at the same time, the surrounding meteorites, large and small, were pulled by the hypergravity magnetic wind field, rubbing a hot meteor tide. It was a scene of self-immolation.

Leora blurted out: "Lemmings, in this axis, the Silver Rain Star has been transformed. ”

His caregiver frowned, and seemed to be in the middle of it.

"Let's just say, you must have stilts, and you are really a time traveler."

The man smiled sweetly at him, as if the universe was a private playground, and he just happened to solve a difficult game beautifully.

"Do you want to guess who I am? I really don't want to raise my value, but the appearance of this characteristic is simply the biggest failure of the guessing game! ”

・

{Time and space man!} Able to read the dreams of time, and travel back and forth in the memory bank of multiple coexistence. Ordinary organic life forms cannot cross the dimensional barrier because consciousness is governed by a single and one-way time, but the body of a space-time person is connected to the junction of the timeline and can operate reflexively. In the imagination of ordinary three-dimensional beings, the space-time man is equivalent to an immortal non-living form, but in fact, he only lives on a time scroll in the plural system. ｝