The branches of the Wild Dance swayed in mid-air for a few seconds, as if some sense organ existed, and the signals in the air were transmitted through the complex nervous system to the thick brachiopod.

It lifted, curled and twisted, as if it had an independent consciousness, and reached towards Kraft. The flute-like branches hiss excitedly, contracts more frequently, and are as rich in vocal ability as the human vocal cords.

At the same time, it has a soft body that should be able to move normally underwater, and a vocal organ that only land animals should have, and the branched mouthparts like lampreys cannot find a corresponding reasonable function at all.

A collection of chaos, a mixture of disordered organs and tissues, piled up into this creature.

The form of madness is like a direct scratch and bite on the soul, and the mere sight of it is a great torture, eroding what little sanity is left of the pursuer.

Kraft watched it, as in every training session, never letting the other man out of his sight.

He felt that he was walking in materialized pain, and it took a great deal of willpower to overcome the resistance and sustain himself to face and approach the source of that pain.

His consciousness worked so fast that he was able to avoid obstacles under his feet and sides without distraction, and move forward steadily, recording and analyzing the information he had obtained from his pale sticky wrists and feet.

This information stimulates consciousness, and it is no longer just sounds, colors, and shapes, but contains something that is difficult for Kraft's special consciousness to accept, so vast that it cannot be contained in the load of a lifetime of information.

The soul and body designed to store the information that normal humans can access do not take into account these unconfronted beings.

He shouldn't have observed it, which in itself was a mistake. But it was too late, and by the time the thought came to mind, the consciousness was already deep in it, and every attempt to record and comprehend was drifting down the path of madness.

In the final logic, only the simplest thought of the first was left - forward, swinging the sword.

Mechanical steps break through the fluorescent slime-soaked waters, approaching their target in an oily white light.

Retinal photoreceptors work faithfully, translating the erection of the abominable into electrochemical signals, but the brain has no room to process it finely, indulging in irresistible madness and pain.

There is no room for manoeuvres and defenses, nor the ability to engage in these complex thoughts, just despair, pure action.

The squirming paleness in his field of vision continued to magnify, and the charge had accumulated enough speed for him to swing his long sword in both arms, following the inertia, and slashing with maximum force.

He did, perhaps because it didn't think that its incapacitated prey could perform such a feat, or that it didn't care at all, and let Kraft finish the sword.

The sharp blade has a strange experience that has never been experienced before, the resistance is not great, the cut is not smooth, and the tissue contains the tough fascia, the grainy teeth, and the unknown of the rough fiber feel.

The incision is a more chaotic structure than the outer layer, with long bones inserted into intertwined muscle fibers, and rows of molars lined up deep into the cavities to connect the digestive organs that are churning with acidic fluid.

The hypertrophic glands are squeezed into an unrecognizable shape in the cracks, and the roots from the luminous tumors are implanted in them, absorbing the unknown components.

These should not appear in a brachiopod at all, unlike the evolution of sea creatures, more like a copy and borrowing from unrelated creatures, violating all the laws of anatomy and mechanics, and being crudely assembled to barely allow brachiopods to move, so it appears stiff and unnatural.

These tissues gave Kraft an unexpected sense of familiarity, and there was only one creature he was familiar with, and it had never been. Some terrible conjecture uncontrollably appeared, giving him a strong desire to explore.

These familiar structures were able to operate in such an unreasonable way, and the completely irregular stuffing finally served its purpose and subverted what he had learned.

He was desperate to understand it, and sick knowledge flooded into his mind as he observed these things, but he was still not satisfied.

Kraft forgets where he is, only these dizzying discoveries in front of him, trying to remember more, observe more, regardless of the bearing of consciousness, until a certain boundary is breached.

The shocked consciousness and boiling emotions exceeded the upper limit of what he could bear. Touch, Hearing, Sight, Smell, Heat and Cold, Position...... All feelings are gone, annihilated in the shock.

The body, instinct, and common sense were completely shattered in the process, and they lost their binding force.

The orderly is disrupted, the layered is subverted, and the dusty is released. Including the deepest, most heavily cordoned out.

At the end of it all, the only thing that remains is the feeling of falling.

Kraft heard the sound of falling water ringing in his ears, and the cold, flowing sensation engulfed his body, and darkness filled his vision again, and the diffuse white light swept away, and there were no wrists, feet, or incisions, as if everything was a realistic illusion.

The body quickly touched the bottom in the sinking, the salt water poured into his mouth and nose, and the suffocation made him move, and he used his long sword to resist the bottom with his strength, and his hands danced and paddled upward. Fortunately, the water is not deep, and when I stand up, I can feel the water waves hitting my waist, which is not a deep water area.

Lined with wide planks a little above the water, the top of the square table. The water didn't pass the chairs, and a few of them were not of good material and floated.

Kraft found himself in another antechamber, identical, except that the water had risen waist-deep, and the creature that emitted white light had disappeared, leaving no trace.

The remaining spots of light were still flickering, and the outline of the incomplete body could be seen, the muscle tension had not subsided, and the fingers gripped the hilt of the sword wrapped in a rough strip of cloth.

Terrifying and bizarre images continue to flash in front of my eyes, like a film rewind, the scene rendered by white light coincides with the dark and empty field in front of me, and the alien object, driven by the familiar musculoskeletal, in an unfamiliar way, the image of that kind of body is still in front of me.

In a trance, Kraft saw the muscles and bones come to life again, squeezing the digestive cavities and glands, squirting mixed acid from the pipes that filled the teeth.

The instinct of training made him raise his sword in front of him, and he staggered backwards in the water.

Nothing happened, he was the only living creature in the silent and dark space, and all that flashed was the imagination of the overly real memory picture, an illusory and terrifying shadow.

Physical pain and mental pain flow through the skull, and fragmented memories and thoughts are scattered and mixed.

One second was still replaying the scene just experienced, and the next second it jumped to the memory of a certain day's flip book, and then it was pulled into physical training.

The state of mind is like a fragile store that has been bought for zero dollars, unrecognizable. Consciousness is trying to put everything back in order, and the pieces that have been strung together are related, but not logically, and there are things that don't seem quite right.

They seem to be something recorded from a third-person perspective, which is not very accurate, and it can only be said that Kraft is willing to understand them this way and classify them as "images".

But these are far more elaborate than images, depicting the shape of three-dimensional space, and even the internal structure of objects, similar to a model reconstructed in 3D after scanning.

Consciousness connects these bizarre contents with visual images from the same period, piecing them together, acknowledging that they have long been recorded simultaneously, and that Kraft is subjectively unimpressed by them.

This patchwork is getting faster and faster, and the hardest part of the puzzle game is always the beginning, and after completing one part, the next stitching becomes easier and easier, and more "3D modeling" corresponds to the corresponding other sensory content of the same period.

Alongside the other senses, it can only be another sense, a new sense, which has been blocked by instinct and subjective will, looking at the world from a different perspective.

It is the materialization of consciousness and spirit, the formation of the extension of liberated consciousness, which spreads to the surroundings and flows through space. Just like the other senses, once you discover its existence, it is self-evident and grasps the meaning.

This is the real "gift" of that contact that cannot be remembered. In ancient times, fish evolved lungs in the process of contact with land, and humans in contact with higher and deeper levels, stimuli promoted passive transformation, and another level of "evolution" took place to adapt.

The ability to remember is only a manifestation of change, and the mental will is thoroughly promoted to another organ, a materialized thing, in contact.

The biological instinct of human beings repels this thing that does not belong to itself, sealing it in the deepest depths.

Today, the violent impact briefly defeats common sense and instinct, it is released, accepted by the subjective consciousness, and can no longer be hidden.

Kraft finally understands the indescribable "smell" and "intuition" of those who approach anomalous things. It is the synaesthesia that the materialized spirit perceives another level of information in the surrounding space and seizes other sensory nerve signal pathways.

He "touches" his surroundings with his spirit, and the invisible but tangible power feeds back the information he has obtained. The airflow, the cavities in the floor, and the loose wood that has been soaked in by the liquor do not limit this perspective.

The spirit can intuitively feel the difference in this space. If he had only felt the breath from another level before, he was now in another level.

Thanks to his connection to something outside of the normal plane, the indescribable ghost noticed something different about him, chased him from the Salt Tide Zone, and used unknown means to pull him into the paradoxical deep world, let's call it "The First Layer".

It seems to be some kind of "reflection", a ghost adapted from the normal world, following its own set of rules, that can form something that makes no sense. Like that weird phone analogue or ...... Logically untenable creatures.

And the level of connection with oneself is deeper than that, when instinct and will are defeated together, and the rejection of this disappears, it is pulled deeper and lower.

So he now came to his current place, the "second layer".

Kraft stood waist-high in the water, and his spirit felt a stronger sense of "abnormality", the depth of which was only an intuitive representation of the difference from the real world, and this difference essentially meant ......

【Farther away】