Chapter 176 Memory Museum
The smile on "Song Nanxing"'s face remained unchanged, and even became a little brighter. Then he raised his hand and gently hooked his finger in my direction.
That action, with an irresistible temptation, seemed to have a hook that wanted to drill into my heart, evoking all the memories of fighting side by side and joking around, tempting me to let down all my guard and run towards the seemingly warm "reunion".
"Hey? Ji Ling? Why are you here?" The squatting "Jiang Wang" also raised his head, revealing the sunny smile in my memory, and his tone was so natural as if we had just separated yesterday.
Although "Chen Yubing" didn't say anything, his cold gaze fell on me and he nodded slightly, as if signaling me to go over and gather.
It's so similar... so similar that it makes one feel heartbroken, and almost makes one's reason surrender.
I pinched my fingertips tightly, and the pain kept me conscious for the last time.
It seems that this museum is snooping into my memory, weaving a trap using the softest part of my heart! The first exhibition hall paralyzed me with the "normal past", and this second exhibition hall tempted me with my most vivid memories.
Once I believed them, walked over and touched them, I might immediately be assimilated by this strange exhibition hall, or maybe I would become something else.
Xiaobai suddenly let out a long howl, as if he had also seen something strange. I looked in the direction of his eyes and saw a bright moon hanging outside the glass skylight.
But I remember that before I came, it was not night outside.
Thinking of this, I knocked Xiaobai's head hard.
“Wake up!”
Xiaobai seemed to have just woken up from a dream, and let out an even more anxious growl at my feet. It seemed that it could also sense the cold malice beneath the warm appearance.
I slowly took a step back, my cold eyes sweeping over the three lifelike phantoms "fabricated" by the museum.
"What's wrong? Have we grown apart after not seeing each other for a few days?" "Song Nanxing" raised his eyebrows, his tone full of his unique teasing, but there was no real smile in his eyes, only an empty imitation.
I didn't answer, but just mobilized my mental power. If this place is also illusory or polluted, then mental power will be effective.
"Chen Yubing" also spoke: "What's wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell?"
The next second, I suddenly appeared in front of the three people and slashed them with a knife.
Sure enough, the smile on "Jiang Wang"'s face froze and became dull; "Song Nanxing"'s hooked fingers stopped in mid-air, looking funny and weird; "Chen Yubing"'s action of knocking on the holster also became mechanical and unnatural.
The sense of reality around them quickly dissipated like the receding tide, revealing the pale, illusory nature underneath.
I guess the principle here should be similar to the effect of the illusion crystal. What happened just now was not entirely illusory, but a real entity fabricated based on my memory, but it was not them themselves.
They still maintained their human form, but had become three mannequins emitting faint light, with fixed expressions and empty eyes. Like clumsy puppets, they were still stubbornly repeating the programmed movements and words.
But such a mannequin can no longer shake my mind.
As if the trap had been discovered, the lights throughout the paleontology exhibition hall began to flicker violently, the shadows cast by the giant dinosaur skeletons twisting wildly, as if coming to life. A teeth-grinding scraping sound echoed from the wall and floor.
Then, at the deepest part of the exhibition hall, a door that seemed both real and illusory slid open silently where there was originally a wall.
Behind the door was no longer a museum corridor, but a deep, rotating vortex passage that seemed to be composed of countless broken memories and distorted light and shadows.
An even colder breath that goes straight to the depths of the soul wafted over from the other end of the passage, carrying with it a heart-pounding sense of familiarity.
I took a last look at the three gradually disappearing mannequin phantoms, and my eyes were complicated, but eventually turned into ice.
I stared at the door, took a deep breath, and finally walked towards it step by step.
Now that I'm here, let me take a look.
Xiaobai hesitated for a moment, but finally let out a low growl and rushed in right after me.
Behind us, the secret door closed silently, and the paleontology exhibition hall once again returned to its eerie, deathly quiet "normality," as if nothing had happened. Only a lingering trace of spiritual fluctuations in the air bore witness to the silent and dangerous battle that had just taken place.
…
The moment I stepped into the third exhibition hall, I suddenly felt dazed, and then the scene in front of me suddenly changed.
The original museum has become something else.
The first thing that hit my nose was the faint scent of mothballs and old furniture. The monotonous ticking of the wall clock echoed in my ears.
I was stunned.
Home.
My childhood home. The setting sun filtered through the familiar lace curtains, casting warm patches of light on the polished cement floor. Childish crayon drawings covered the walls, and unfinished building blocks lay on the small table. Everything remained as it was in my most vivid and painful memory.
"Nannan, be good at home," a gentle yet tired female voice came from behind, "Mom and Dad will be back soon, really soon this time."
I turned around suddenly.
My mother, wearing her faded blue plaid shirt, squatted on the floor, gently adjusting the straps of my small schoolbag. Her smile was warm, but deep within her eyes lay a thick layer of guilt and anxiety. My father stood at the door, his back straight but heavy with pressure. He didn't dare look back at me, only whispering, "Hurry up, we're running out of time."
My heart felt like it was being gripped by an icy hand, and breathing suddenly became difficult.
It's like this again...
It's like this again!
That familiar, cold feeling of abandonment instantly shot up from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, almost suffocating me.
I knew it was an illusion, a scene fabricated by the museum based on my deepest wounds, but the sharp pain was undeniably real. Every time, every time they said, "I'll be back soon," but each wait felt like a century, and in the end, all I got was the same goodbye again.
"Don't go..." I heard a sobbing sound coming from my throat, small and desperate. My small body rushed forward uncontrollably, trying to grab the corner of my mother's clothes.
Just like what happened countless times in my dreams.
At this moment, the picture suddenly shattered like glass hit by a sledgehammer.
The cold red mist instantly swallowed up the warm sunset. The scene of home was distorted and transformed into a fog-shrouded farmers' market after the apocalypse!
"hiss……"
Suddenly, there was an inexplicable sharp pain in my calf.
Then, red threads crawled up my legs and spread upwards, and I saw my skin falling off in pieces.
The familiar feeling of fear instantly spread throughout my body.
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