Located at 78°55′N, 11°56′E, the Norwegian archipelago of Pittsbergen is a frigid land where, standing on the snow-covered ground, one can look up and see the bizarre and spectacular aurora borealis.
Walk two kilometers further north, climb the hills, leave your footprints in the snow, and step by step, climb to the top.
At that time, you will see a miraculous fog covering the sky and a thin film stretching between the sky and the earth. It is like a dream bubble or a barrier near the abyss. Stepping into it will isolate you from the world and allow you to quietly admire the beauty of the universe.
The researchers placed in this location, nestled in the castle-like space station, sat by the window, bundled up like bears, watching the scenery outside. Sometimes it was snowing heavily, sometimes the wind was howling.
Only then did they feel a little warmer.
Once outside, they must keep their necks hunched and strive to obtain the most accurate observation data for the command and control center, as well as the situation within the dead dimension of the Arctic surface and the degree of the ancient spirits' revival.
The researchers here enter the dimension of death on average every two days, and passing through the dreamlike membrane is no longer a rare occurrence for them.
Some people are even excited about entering this dimension.
Even the aurora borealis, snow-capped peaks, and snow lotuses on high mountains can become tiresome to some people. But creatures from a dimension never before seen are different; they are so wondrous and bizarre.
The researchers walked in with trembling bodies, and immediately heard a dull heartbeat like the drumming of an ancient battlefield. The gray earth also trembled. They lay on the ground and brushed away the dust. Their bodies, hundreds of meters below the thin ice, were so shocking to their eyes.
Upon witnessing this scene, they would feel a deep-seated fear, an irresistible urge to kneel down and submit, afraid to look yet always wanting to squint their eyes, constantly trying to convince themselves otherwise.
How could the bodies of the ancient spirits be so captivating? They possessed dragon-like backs, mutated tentacles, rock-like teeth, and vertical pupils in their murky eyes.
Even the fiercest warrior in the world, wielding a divinely bestowed sword, fearlessly cutting through thorns and brambles to reach it as if in a fairy tale, would be so terrified that he would drop his armor and kneel in worship.
It lies dormant in the abyss, and only the war between kings can dispel its loneliness on the day it awakens.
Mortals never have a choice; they only have the right to submit.
A strange feeling arose when Oqi first entered the realm of death, stumbling and running out, like a maggot clinging to his bone, impossible for him to shake off no matter what he did.
It felt as if a wandering soul had entered his body, keeping Oqi awake at night. Even when he was asleep, he would see those pupils in the darkness in his dreams, and he would be silently watched, feeling ashamed and wanting to find a crack to crawl into and become a maggot.
But he had nowhere to hide.
Oqi woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat, feeling as if he had lived through countless long years. But when he checked his phone, he found that he had only slept for half an hour.
He stood up, wrapped himself in his clothes, left the warm bed, and pushed open the door to go out.
In the corridor, Ochi sat, looking up at the window.
Outside, the colors are vibrant; the sky is a curtain upon which streams of light stretch and starlight shifts and changes shape.
The howling wind filled my ears, sometimes mixed with snowflakes falling like goose feathers, soaking the edges of the windowsill, and turning into frost by tomorrow.
Vast expanses of white stretched as far as the eye could see.
He took out a lighter from his pocket, lit a cigarette, and took a deep drag.
He sighed, and smoke drifted out with his sigh, rising and dissipating at the top of the corridor.
He smoked one cigarette after another until he was completely calm. Oqi returned to his dormitory, wrapped himself in the blanket, and closed his eyes again.
Those eyes again.
I woke up with a start.
I stayed up all night, tormented until dawn.
I got up listlessly; it was already early morning outside. I continued working.
Over time, he became increasingly haggard, his eyes lost their sparkle, and he rarely responded to his colleagues' calls, often just sitting in his chair lost in thought.
Only in the few minutes before his shift enters the dimension of death will Ochi's frozen blood begin to flow again.
He felt his throat become very dry, and he couldn't help but swallow his saliva. He felt thirsty all the time, and a desire rose in his heart. He wanted to kneel on the ground and caress Gu Ling's body from top to bottom with his eyes.
He felt that every single gray-white scale was indescribably beautiful, a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
Unbeknownst to him, Oqi was increasingly looking forward to its awakening, to it spreading its wings, unfolding its body, and standing in the sky overlooking the Arctic, like a god.
We eagerly await its roar to awaken the slumbering world, to shatter the glaciers that have existed for tens of thousands of years, and to unleash its furious fury like a colossal beast!
It gazed eastward, its majestic gaze piercing through layers of space, landing on the handsome young man standing on the mechanical arm, forcing him to submit.
This is the king's declaration of war!
The moment he left the dimension of death, Ochi felt a chill run through his body. He was no longer the young man who had plunged into the dimension to seek the truth for humanity. He had lost his soul from beginning to end, and the light in his eyes had dimmed.
"How is the data from the observation?"
The people waiting outside will always ask this question.
"Very good...very good."
Ochi strode away silently, not waiting for his puzzled companions.
The European guy who had been holding the camera was his partner, but he was later transferred to the second group to take turns observing the data.
A similar situation occurred to him.
As time went by, the once bustling dining table at the very center of the observation station was no longer filled with laughter and joy.
The group of young people miraculously remained silent, eating quietly without saying a word, and then left their seats.
Something eerie is assimilating everyone.
Furthermore, these people began to enter the dimension of death more frequently, from twice a day to three, four, or five times a day.
Ultimately, it ended up being spent entirely within the dimension, except for reporting data that came out of it.
The Federation was completely unaware of this, and they could never have imagined that in just over ten days, those who remained in the frigid Arctic nation had become the king's slaves.
They staggered forward through the membrane, kneeling on the ground. One by one, they peeled off their clothes, staring blankly down, completely naked.
Grayish-white scales began to appear on its body, squeezing out from its skin, devouring the surface flesh, and gnawing at its blood-soaked cheeks.
Without exception, all twenty-odd people were filled with utmost piety. Gray powder filled the air in the dimension, falling on their bodies. Their scales, nourished by the dust, came alive and grew wildly, devouring their original cells.
The specks of gray light gathered together, resembling flying beetles.
It falls on "people," it falls on their...
On the tail.
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