Cthulhu's regular snoring could be heard in the distance, and every breath changed the direction of the underwater mountains.
Si Weijun suddenly stopped, and turned around with the clattering of chains - on that face that was between a boy and a monster, his left eye still retained the gentle smile in the library, but his right eye had turned into a rotating star map on a compass.
【Coffin Farewell】
Memory suddenly collapsed back to the original sarcophagus.
He saw himself lying quietly in an obsidian coffin, a white rose woven from nerve endings resting on his chest. Si Weijun (in his youthful form? Compass form? Or the chained youth?) stood at the edge of the coffin, his head bowed, his long hair cascading down like a dying galaxy.
"Of all the possibilities..." Si Weijun's fingertips traced the hieroglyphs carved into the coffin. The symbols immediately twisted and reorganized into love poems. "...you always choose the most willful path."
When the kiss fell, Blore smelled the familiar dark lotus scent in Si Weijun's hair in his memory - but the next second it turned into the unique stardust fragrance with a smell of rust that was unique to the compass boy.
Countless eyes suddenly opened within the coffin, witnessing this paradoxical kiss that transcended dimensions. He saw Si Weijun's lips crystallize at the moment of contact, transforming into a brilliant substance somewhere between organic and inorganic.
Reality Tears
"Do you remember now?" The voice of the compass boy brought Blore back to reality. At this moment, the other party's face was flashing in a quantum state between Si Weijun and the monster.
The drooping black hair suddenly straightened, and the ends of the hair pierced into the void, salvaging more memory fragments from different timelines:
Excerpts from the opera “The King in Yellow” played on the shared headphones at the academy base;
Equations written in blood in the midnight library sprout tentacles in the moonlight;
On the last page of Si Weijun's graduation thesis, "To BL" was written in invisible ink—the letters were dissolving into the Cthulhu Familia script...
Blore suddenly had a severe headache, and his irises began to switch colors uncontrollably, each color corresponding to the pain of a parallel universe.
The compass made a sharp sound as if its gears were jamming, and all the pointers pointed to the strange scale engraved with "Kissing scene should happen here".
"What the hell are you..." Blore fell to his knees, starlight seeping from between his fingernails.
Si Weijun, his youthful form crumbling, smiled sadly. His skin peeled off like old wall paint, revealing the swirling nebulae within. "I am all the promises you've forgotten, dear Mr. Coffin Keeper."
The yawn of Cthulhu waking up could be heard in the distance, and the entire dimension began to blur like a water-soaked oil painting.
"Stop!" He covered his ears, but heard the sound of a conch shell tidal coming from inside his skull.
The young man suddenly leaned in close, his cold breath carrying the scent of rotten honey against his face. "You know what? Every 'Si Weijun' in every parallel universe will eventually converge with me." He lifted his long hair, revealing the back of his head—a mass of eyeballs, all fixed on Blore. "And you, like them, have already signed a contract."
"You're 137 epochs late." The boy's mouth cracked from ear to ear, revealing his mother-of-pearl teeth. "But dear, I can give you a 5% discount."
The compass needle suddenly began to spin wildly, and the vines began to play a low humming sound like a cello.
Blore discovered that his shadow was tap dancing uncontrollably, and what was even more terrifying was that he actually thought it made sense.
"Excuse me..." Blore began, but the boy suddenly came close to him, so close that he could count the number of his eyelashes - if those black threads that kept changing shape could still be called eyelashes.
"Shh—" The boy pressed his cold fingers against his lips. The touch felt like being kissed by ten butterflies simultaneously. "Do you hear the stars singing? D flat major, what a perfect melody for marinating the soul."
It was then that Blore noticed the densely engraved names on the back of the compass, each one oozing blood, and the name at the very top was his own.
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