Now, I am the only one left here.

Agatha slowly withdrew her gaze from the lantern. She turned around, leaving Archon Winston in the cold and calm darkness, and walked towards the "branch" that crisscrossed in the endless space, towards the huge curtain of thorns that was like a dome of heaven and earth.

A dim lantern hung around her waist. Her right hand held the cane that had accompanied her for many years in her memory. Her left hand still tightly grasped the brass key from Winston - the key was no longer cold, but had a heat like body temperature, as if... it was gradually merging with her body.

But Agatha no longer paid attention to any changes in her body.

She just took steps in the darkness, feeling that this body was actually moving forward. As long as the chaos around her had not completely swallowed and assimilated her, she still had to move forward.

She searched for a place to step in the void, and every time she took a step, a path-like surface would appear in the darkness. She looked for a way out among the thorn bushes, and there were often narrow openings between the crisscrossing branches for her to pass through.

The sharp "thorns" soon tore through her clothes. The dense "fabric" was as fragile as loose ash and fog in the face of the ancient god's mental piercing. The fallen fragments condensed into wriggling black droplets in the darkness and merged into the path under her feet. From time to time, she touched the sparks that jumped and wandered between the thorns - when she came into contact with those flashes, she could almost clearly feel that something was drilling into her mind.

That was the thought of an ancient god, the murmur of the Holy Lord of the Deep - there was no malice in it, and it could not even be called a complete intention, but to a weak mortal, that briefest spark of thought was also dazzling, like a brilliant giant candle in the dark night.

Another cluster of dim flashes came quickly from afar, sliding across her sight along the dark thorn branches. A strand of Agatha's hair met the flash, and in a moment of one hundredth of a second, new "knowledge" emerged in her mind -

[111010011001101110000110……111001111011111010100100……]

Agatha could not understand the message these sparks were conveying to her - just as Winston told her, don't try to guess the thoughts of the ancient gods.

It's going to drive you crazy.

She raised her head.

A magnificent structure formed by the bridge of dead trees and thorns covered the view. Dense and dim flashes danced like fireflies in the thorn bushes. A thin layer of fog covered the outside of the thorn barrier, and in the depths of the fog, the huge limbs of the Holy Lord of the Deep were swaying slightly - like an invitation.

The surroundings had grown cold again—and the cold was more distinct and biting than before. There was dampness in the cold, and it penetrated into the body as if to freeze the bones.

Agatha subconsciously tightened her clothes around her chest, but found that her clothes had become tattered without her knowing it, and the thorns along the way had left countless wounds of varying sizes on her skin.

In the wound, dirty black sticky substance was slowly wriggling like blood.

But just when she thought that the cold would completely consume her, a faint but warm heat came from her chest again...

※※※

A small green flame burned quietly in Agatha's chest. The dim green light illuminated her face and the cold and damp sewers around her.

All the feelings seemed to have faded away, or were separated from my rationality by a thick curtain. The temperature in my blood vessels seemed to have faded with the passage of time, along with the fatigue and pain accumulated along the way.

Agatha shook her head slowly, trying to dispel the numbness that occupied her mind, and just as her vision was shaking, she suddenly saw a strange scene out of the corner of her eye.

She saw that the dark and closed sewer corridor in front of her seemed to become spacious all of a sudden, and a thin mist rose in the hazy space. Something like tree branches or thorn bushes appeared in the mist and slowly spread towards her.

However, the next second, the illusory scene disappeared, and all she could see was the dark corridor.

And a gate at the end of the corridor.

Plop… plop…

The moment she looked at the gate, Agatha seemed to hear an illusory heartbeat sound in her ears, as if there was a huge heart hiding opposite the door, beating and growing in the darkness.

Agatha's already dull and numb spirit suddenly perked up, and her eyes instantly focused on the door.

"Ah... I found you..."

She put away the flame in her palm and stepped towards the darkness. The almost broken combat staff supported her forward for the last time. Her steps became faster and faster, and even gradually brought up the sound of wind. She stepped towards the darkness and left it behind. The low and terrifying heartbeat gradually beat like a heavy drumbeat on her heart, and even in her mind.

Gradually, she heard something else mixed in the heartbeat, as if thousands of people were praying, chanting, and calling out to some dark and indescribable existence.

But she no longer cared about how much noise was mixed in those mixed voices - she was about to deliver the fire, and the nest of those heretics was in the deepest part ahead.

The sounds of canes and heels hitting the ground were heard frequently.

And at this moment, Agatha suddenly heard other sounds - not her own footsteps, nor the heartbeats coming from deep in the corridor and the prayers of the crowd gathered together.

Those were other footsteps, from a large group of people, and the dense footsteps sounded like they were coming from another direction - very close to the corridor in front of me, but separated by a wall or two.

Amid the footsteps, there was a gunshot, from a large-caliber rifle.

Someone else? A living person? Someone else was acting with me in this mirror city? !

A question suddenly popped up in Agatha's mind, but this question did not affect her pace at all - she rushed through the last section of the road in front of the gate almost instantly and came to the gate where the heartbeat sound continued to be heard.

The door was slightly open, with a crack filled with a darkness so thick that it could not be dissolved. The darkness seemed to have substance, dissipating and flowing outwards bit by bit.

But this is exactly what Agatha has been looking for.

She pressed her shoulder against the heavy door and pushed it open slowly with all her strength.

The door opened with a creaking sound.

A vast expanse of darkness appeared before Agatha's eyes - or rather, some kind of boundless "shadow" enveloped the originally normal space, leaving her with only darkness.

She could only barely make out that there seemed to be a gathering hall in the darkness. The widest intersection in the sewer had been transformed into a place for sacrifice and the birth of ancient gods. Countless shadowy and invisible creatures were wriggling in the darkness, and their malice was like a stench, blowing towards her face.

Then, before she could react, she heard a swift sound of breaking air in the darkness nearby. Something was coming towards her. A familiar yet disgusting voice sounded in the distant sacrificial field - with a tone of mockery and ridicule:

"Ah, the last sacrifice has finally arrived - how nice! You also just arrived at the designated place for the other one."

"Bang!"

The cane was swung, and short, bright sparks burst out in the darkness. A hideous and strange limb was broken off in mid-air and fell at Agatha's feet. She almost lost her balance due to the impact. After barely regaining her balance, she immediately raised her head and looked in the direction where the voice came from.

I could only barely see the tall and thin figure of a young man standing at the end of the darkness.

He opened his arms towards this side.

"Come on, sacrifice. Your coming here is part of the plan. Now, it's time to build the passage."

Agatha supported herself with a cane and slowly raised her head in weakness and dizziness: "You are courting death..."

"Yes, we will all die here, but it doesn't matter. As long as you step in here, the ritual has been successful - I admit, this is indeed a trap."

※※※

There was a bang of a gunshot, and flames and explosions tore through the darkness in the corridor. The powerful bullet shot a twisted three-eyed monster in the head. The latter's mutated and hideous body fell to the ground, quickly melting and disintegrating, turning into disgusting black mud.

However, more roars of monsters continued to sound from all around, and more deformed and twisted creatures continued to emerge - from the surrounding walls, pipes, drains, and even from the cracks in the dome.

The mud-like substance seeped out and flowed out from almost every crack visible to the naked eye, turning into countless monsters that resembled humans but were not.

"I don't think we have enough bullets!"

A sailor shouted loudly, while quickly reloading his rifle, raising his gun and firing. His shouting sounded hoarse and dark, accompanied by the crackling sound of the burning ghost flame.

Lawrence had no time to respond to the sailor's shout - a swift wind blew from behind his head, and he only had time to slightly turn his body to avoid the fatal blow, and then he grabbed back driven by instinct.

A humanoid monster wearing the city-state guard uniform from decades ago and holding a sword in his hand was pulled from behind by him and fell heavily to the ground.

Lawrence took a step forward and stepped heavily on the chest of the fake freak. The ghostly flames on his body instantly rose up, and the spreading and burning flames burned the inhuman monster into a pile of ashes almost instantly.

The next second, Lawrence, whose body was burning with ghost flames, raised his head and looked at the corridor in front of him that seemed to have no end.

Everywhere I looked, I saw something blasphemous and deformed.