The dead are crawling out of their coffins one after another, and the cemetery is full of swaying corpses. They ask in confusion, walk aimlessly, or sit on the morgue in a daze, recalling and thinking in vain in the slight sense of incongruity that remains after the old order has dissipated, trying to grasp the uneasiness and shadow lingering in their hearts.
The guards who are supposed to be guarding this cemetery and preventing the dead from waking up and becoming restless are now guiding these awakened corpses, sending them away from this temporary place and returning home.
The dim street lights illuminated this strange scene. Even Agatha, who could no longer sense the temperature of the world of the living, felt another kind of coldness that seemed to slowly spread from her soul. She stood blankly by the path, watching Duncan send out those moving corpses one by one, as if she was trapped in a bizarre dream.
"Okay, you're the last one." Finally, the last staggering dead person set out on the way home. It was a young man who died of murder, with a horrifying hole in his chest. Duncan helped the fresh dead man down the platform and gently and calmly reminded him, "You still remember the direction of home. Go back. It's normal to have difficulty breathing. You will soon get used to it all... Go home now, be with your family, don't think too much, live a good life - get out of here, move forward, don't look back, you don't have to come back to this place for a long time."
The corpse with stiff steps finally walked away. The dim street lights illuminated his figure until he finally disappeared into the night in the distance.
Duncan finally came to the gatekeeper. Despite the thick bandages, a gentle and calm smile still appeared in his eyes: "Sorry to have kept you waiting, Ms. Agatha."
Agatha suddenly felt dazed, as if she was about to forget something very important, but then she suddenly woke up, raised her hand to her forehead and muttered to herself: "The boundary between life and death has disappeared... Captain, what happened? I feel... something seems to be wrong. This cemetery... that was not normal just now..."
Her body shook as if her consciousness was suddenly interrupted, and she almost fell.
"Relax, Agatha." Duncan reached out and gently supported the gatekeeper, helping her slowly walk to a morgue nearby and let her sit next to a coffin.
"Keep breathing - or don't breathe, the main thing is to keep your mind calm," he said slowly, just like he had just soothed the restless dead. "It's normal to be in a trance and slightly nervous and panicky. It will pass soon. Tirian is fine now, and you will be soon too."
Listening to the voices beside her, Agatha felt that the conflicting feelings in her mind had finally subsided a little, and her cognition temporarily stabilized. After a moment of silence, she whispered, "How long will it take?"
"We are heading to the last node, the node of the God of Death. Based on past experience, this will take about two to three days. After that, I will be able to confirm Bartok's condition," Duncan stared into Agatha's black-veiled eyes. "But if you are asking about the moment after that, that final moment... that will take some time."
“…What will the world become?”
Duncan said nothing, but continued to look at her calmly.
At first, the sea lost its waves, and the boundless sea turned into a calm water mirror. Then, the dead no longer rested, the concept of death was distorted, and the boundary between life and death became blurred. What happened next?
He suddenly remembered what Black Sun had described to him -
One day, the ocean will forget what waves look like, life will forget how to die, fire will not remember how to burn, the wind will stop flowing, and clouds will fall from the sky to the sea...
The gods are sinking into oblivion, the world is sinking into oblivion - that is the "rotten future".
That is another lightless end corresponding to the "future of fire".
Agatha did not get the answer to the question, but from Duncan's eyes, she seemed to already know the result. As the tearing and contradiction at the cognitive level in her mind reappeared, she also vaguely realized... this kind of thing might not be the first time it has happened in this world.
"...I have undergone the most rigorous training and tests. I have honed my skills and strengthened my will in the temple. I have sworn before the image of the Lord that I will use my strength and faith to protect those who follow us..."
She spoke softly, the coldness of the world seeping into her mind, as if to freeze her thoughts. Her voice rang out in the cold night, as if it came from a grave and echoed in another grave.
"But how can I protect them in this situation? Captain Duncan, in the face of this...collapse of the foundation of the world..."
"You are protecting them, and everyone in this city is also protecting this city in their own way - the way of life here, the memory here, everything here," Duncan interrupted Agatha's words with a deep voice, "I know that even so, everything is slowly dying. The 'memories' of this world are disappearing between fingers like quicksand. No matter how tightly you hold your hands, you are only delaying this process. But this is no one's fault."
He turned his head and looked at the path in the cemetery and the morgues beside the path that were now completely quiet.
Some of the charnel tables still had marks from bullets, knife strikes, and chopping operations. There were also bouquets of flowers presented by the living to the dead, and even... it seemed as if there were still traces of tears that had not dried yet.
Some people once fought here for the boundary between life and death, and some people once mourned here those who had crossed over life and death and gone to another world. But now this place has become completely quiet, and for a long time in the future, it may not have any more "guests".
People will gradually forget the role of cemeteries, and then there will be irresistible "neglect". Death will become a state of change that no one cares about. Bartok's ministry will be blurred, and the concept of the Church of Death will become a natural but incomprehensible existence that no one will even think of understanding. This dying world will once again be "adjusted", and "ignorance" is another gift it bestows on all living beings - to prevent the fragile minds of mortals from accidentally glimpsing the terrifying corruption and decay hidden in the depths of darkness.
Agatha felt the cold air gradually filling her chest and then being slowly exhaled out of her body with her breath.
She seemed to have not breathed for a long time. After this body died, she became more and more accustomed to the identity of the dead, so much so that she gradually forgot about "breathing".
But now, she began to breathe naturally again.
The dark night gently enveloped the world. She felt the trance in her mind gradually fade away, and all the confusion and anxiety were slowly dissipating.
She heard Captain Duncan speaking beside her, his voice reassuringly calm and steady.
"Agatha, do you know that human eyes can actually always see the tip of their noses? It blocks a large part of a person's vision, and when the two eyes focus, it forms a black shadow that theoretically cannot be ignored.
"But your brain has been dealing with this 'trouble'. It has learned to ignore the shadow and 'fill in' the gaps in your vision through incredible imagination, deception and calculation. Only at certain angles and positions can you notice the existence of the 'blind spot'.
"At the same time, due to the influence of the neural structure, people's vision is upside down. Your brain needs to make a lot of calculations and adjustments to turn the signals transmitted by the nerves into normal ones. So some people, when they suffer from neuropathy, will temporarily see that upside-down world, and even have difficulty walking in that upside-down world.
“Human beings are such imperfect creatures that the human brain has to resort to neglect, forgetfulness, and even self-deception in order to survive sanely in this world.
"And this world has the same 'correction' mechanism as your brain. Those horrible rifts and contradictions will eventually be hidden under this correction mechanism. Even though they will accumulate more and more, and even though the whole world will gradually sink... this is the best they can do.
"Agatha, this world is so imperfect that its designers had to resort to neglect, forgetfulness, and even self-deception in order to survive sanely in your world, and now, this process is reaching its limit.
"Like the sand that slips through your fingers.
"But 'they' tried their best."
Duncan withdrew his gaze from the distance and stared quietly at the gatekeeper sitting on the morgue.
"...I will return to the Cathedral."
Agatha suddenly said softly.
Green flames danced deep within her shattered body, smoldering where her eyes should have been.
"Someone will come to the cathedral for help. There will be other priests who will feel temporarily confused and uneasy like me. They will need me. After that, when this 'process' is temporarily over, I will continue to perform my duties... I should be with my followers and let everyone's life go on, even if it lasts for one more day. And then..."
She breathed a sigh of relief and then jumped off the morgue with a nimble figure.
She stood in the night like a steady tombstone, as if the days when she prayed in the cathedral as a nun in a long dress had not diminished her aura as a gatekeeper.
"Then, the world may become worse," Duncan's voice came from the side, "Life has forgotten how to die, and fire may also forget how to burn. Wind and cloud, light and darkness, many things will gradually sink in this unstoppable decay - and the world's 'correction' will reach its limit. Someone will wake up in the darkness and realize the horrific changes in the world. By then..."
Agatha raised her head and met Captain Duncan's gaze calmly. The breeze gradually emerged beside her, and her figure gradually disintegrated into ashes in the wind.
A smile appeared on her face.
"I will still do my job and wait patiently - we all have things to do, right?"
Duncan nodded slightly.
Agatha's figure turned into gray wind, disappeared into the night, and left the quiet cemetery.