Mozwa
The gray tide accumulated layer by layer, becoming unstoppable, gradually dispersing and devouring those radiating flames. The exhausted and exhausted warriors could only retreat step by step, slowly closing in, fighting a final desperate battle in this endless wave.
The angels that were originally patrolling the sky gradually disappeared, and the white flames were gradually extinguished by the black tide.
Since the last Chaos Calamity, these darlings of the Light have become increasingly scarce, and now they are unable to support themselves alone. Many seriously injured angels have been forced to return to the heavens and enter a long or permanent hibernation.
A golden crescent moon slowly passed through the dark clouds, casting some light on the dark earth, supporting those who were still fighting.
The current Pope, Bines, sat down slowly and weakly. She looked down at the huge mouth that was constantly opening at the foot of the mountain in front of her, and compassion and sadness gradually rose in her eyes.
"How long will this disaster last? Will we still be able to see the last hope come...cough cough." She weakly coughed up black blood.
"Perhaps I am the Pope with the shortest reign. How ugly, Binnies." She laughed at herself, then struggled to stand up, and with the support of several priests, she walked to the front line again.
As the night slowly entered its darkest hour, after receiving news from all sides, the many Sequence 9 Transcendents of the Sage Council gradually gave up hope and began to prepare backup plans. With the vortex no longer able to be quickly closed, they could only hope for a painful, decades-long tug-of-war, like the last time.
In the seemingly eternally dark underground, the silver-haired girl was still kneeling on the ground, with twinkling lights in her clear blue eyes as she watched the endlessly repeating message flash by in front of her.
.....
[Connection failed...]
[According to the 3192nd directive of the Second Human Survival Committee, no unit will be allowed to connect to the Aegka network again.]
[Connection failed...]
[According to the 3192nd directive of the Second Human Survival Committee, no unit will be allowed to connect to the Aegka network again.]
[Connection failed...]
[According to the 3192nd directive of the Second Human Survival Committee, no unit will be allowed to connect to the Aegka network again.]
[Connection failed...]
[According to the 3192nd directive of the Second Human Survival Committee, no unit will be allowed to connect to the Aegka network again.]
....
It was like an endless cycle. No matter what method Loran Hill used to activate the sun fragment, there was no response. Even if he requested to connect to the Aijaka network, he would never get an effective response. It seemed that the ancient and extraordinary network had been broken long ago, and the throne of God on it was nowhere to be found.
Finally, the exhausted girl fell into the mud, and the barrier beside her dimmed and dissipated. Countless phantoms swarmed up and pounced on this original pure existence.
Luo Lanxier only felt various hallucinations coming one after another, and his consciousness gradually became blurred. It was like sinking to the bottom of the sea, without any light.
Broken pictures emerged in my mind and flashed away. Some of them were ordinary, some were ugly, and some were beautiful. They seemed like slices of countless lives, and traces of the vivid faces of the past.
They were running on their own paths in life, some laughing, some crying, some angry, some panicking. These extremely messy fragments of memory were like countless drawings cut into pieces and then mixed together, leaving only shapeless colorful debris.
If beauty is a kind of symmetrical, regular and pleasing existence, then these fragments are ugly and completely symmetrical, with no regularity, extreme disorder and distortion.
He will not offer you anything valuable, nor can he show any specific emotions. He is always fragmented, trivial, repetitive, boring, irritating and disgusting.
These fragments slowly seeped into Loran Hill's soul like fine sand, and then began to dismember the connections within it, trying to make it become a broken existence like itself.
But such behavior encountered some troubles. Although these "grains of sand" tried to destroy the integrity of the soul and break it into pieces, unlike all other souls, there seemed to be no so-called connection points in this special soul.
It is as transparent as clouds and air from beginning to end. Even if it is separated, it will come together again on its own. It does not need the so-called connecting points, or it is the connecting point itself. When these grains of sand flow through, they gather together again and return to their original state.
In this way, the sand particles shuttle back and forth in the clear water, again and again, until they gradually lose their vitality and slowly settle in the clear water, accumulating into different colors according to their different properties.
And within this chaos, the world began to show distinct colors. Although this was the most elementary form of color, simply fragments of similar colors piled together, this clarity became the foundation for everything that followed.
I don’t know how long it was, it seemed like several years, but also like only a few hours, Loran Hill woke up again.
She sat up slowly. There were still a lot of stains and dirt on her calves and knees, but she felt a little refreshed at this moment.
She stared blankly at her hands, and tiny bits of light rose in her palms. It was the pure light sand after being washed away by the chaotic phantom, bringing with it strands of magic or power.
Even though such power is so weak as one billionth, and even if it is magnified thousands of times, it cannot cause a breeze to sway a candle, it is still real and true power.
[Connect all hearts and transcendents, extract the purest wishes from them, and weave them into the crown of the gods]
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