Eyes suddenly opened in the darkness.
"What the hell is this place?"
Nan Song was startled when he suddenly heard his own voice.
Her voice seemed to break into trembling tails in the emptiness.
She was like a fish that had just been thrown ashore from the deep sea, with her lungs filled with air that did not belong to this world.
Her eyelids felt as heavy as if they were sewn with lead weights, and it took her three attempts to successfully open her right eye - her left eye was still stubbornly stuck together, as if it were some kind of self-protection mechanism.
The first thing the retina picks up is the dome.
It shouldn't be called a building structure, it's more like the abdominal cavity of some giant creature.
The arc-shaped top extends to the end of the field of vision, and is densely covered with reliefs of jellyfish tentacles.
No, not a relief.
Nansong's pupils suddenly contracted, and those translucent tentacles were wriggling at an almost imperceptible amplitude, like neuronal synapses stimulated by microcurrents.
Some of the longer tentacles dangled at the ends, swaying gently twenty centimeters above her head, dripping with a mother-of-pearl-like slime.
"Is that person Song Wudeng?"
The thought scraped across her temple like a razor blade.
Her memory was like a muddied aquarium. The last thing she remembered was Song Wudeng's overly calm eyes with a distorted face, and then the darkness that suddenly enveloped her vision.
Now she lay in this—she was suddenly unsure what to call it—space, the cold ground pulsating rhythmically, as if it were against the skin of some sleeping giant beast.
Nansong finally struggled to sit up.
There was a teeth-grinding sound of sticking as the spine separated from the ground.
She looked down and saw that her palms were covered with a mother-of-pearl film, which cracked into spider-web-like patterns as she moved.
The space was filled with the smell of a deep-sea fish market, a strange sweet fragrance mixed with corruption and saltiness.
She noticed that the "murals" on the wall weren't made of paint at all—the snowy scenes were composed of countless tiny fungal spores, which flickered in time with the rhythm of her breathing.
"I'm not going to turn into that mermaid, am I?"
The image of the fat and bloated fish tail that had just appeared flashed through her mind, and she shuddered.
God knows, she was trying to comfort herself.
"Is anyone there?"
The sound was mostly muffled by the humid air.
She was answered by the sound of dripping liquid in the distance, but when she turned her head to look for the source of the sound, it appeared in the completely opposite direction.
Nan Song felt her temples throbbing, and a buzzing sound beyond the range of human hearing was vibrating from the roots of her molars.
She stumbled towards the nearest wall, and the wallpaper curled and fell away the moment her fingertips touched it, revealing the flesh-pink base underneath.
The materials looked very much like human tissue soaked in formalin, and black mucus oozed out as she touched them.
The slime meandered into strange symbols on the wall, and Nan Song suddenly realized that it was some kind of text, and she could actually understand it - "He is watching."
Nansong was hit by a severe dizziness and fell to his knees, only to find that the ground was not made of tiles or cement at all.
A translucent network of mycelium flickered below her knees, stretching out into the dark corridor beyond.
Fluorescent substance flows in the hyphae, forming arrow shapes pointing in a certain direction.
The most terrifying thing is that she actually thought this was very reasonable, as if a dormant area of the brain was suddenly activated and began to receive this set of visual information that violated the laws of physics.
The walls on both sides of the corridor concave slightly as she approaches, like waiters making way for a distinguished guest.
Nan Song touched the communicator in her pocket, and she almost screamed when the screen lit up - the warning of "wrong time sequence" kept flashing where the time should have been displayed. All the photos of Song Wudeng in the album turned into blurry misty figures, and the most recent photo she had never taken was a dome-shaped perspective of this space, and the shooting time was displayed as "■■■■■ years ago."
The air suddenly became sticky, and Nansong felt as if there were piercing gazes coming from all directions.
The jellyfish tentacles began to move faster, creating a sickening wave motion across the dome.
She finally noticed the thing huddled in the corner—the humanoid shadow had the outline of Song Fog Light, but its body was twisted like a stretched chewing gum, and its face was a constantly flowing vortex of mist.
When it looked up at Nansong, a line of burning words appeared directly on her retina:
"You're finally here, ■■■"
Nan Song suddenly noticed warm liquid suddenly gushing out of her ear canal, and at the same time, she was a little horrified to find that it was mother-of-pearl-colored mucus with the same texture as her own tears.
The darkness at the end of the corridor began to pulsate, and something huge, far beyond human comprehension, was glancing at her through the shadow of Song's fog light form.
At this moment, Nansong understood everything: this place did not exist in any time and space coordinates, it was a threshold space built by the Forgotten, and Song Wudeng——
The mycelial network suddenly lit up with a dazzling blue light, and the ground suddenly contracted like a jellyfish hunting. The last thing Nan Song saw during her fall was countless dome-shaped tentacles curling towards her, each sucker containing an eye exactly like Song Wudeng's.
The falling process was infinitely prolonged, like sinking into an endless inky ocean.
The fluorescence of the mother-of-pearl mucus still remained on Nansong's retina, but in the state of weightlessness, he caught a glimpse of a suspended oval stone.
The surface of the stone was unnaturally smooth, like a skull that had been caressed by countless hands, reflecting an unnatural rainbow.
The stone suddenly flipped over, and the moment the reflection appeared, Nansong's stomach cramped - in the reflection that swayed like the surface of water, the indigo-colored hair danced like a living thing.
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