Chapter 316 Scars
If I had to find a word to describe it, Kraft felt like he was experiencing severe... phantom limb pain.
He moved it from top to bottom, including the spine, arms, legs, palms and fingers. There were only small scratches and bumps caused by bumps, but they were all limited to the surface, and no flaws were found.
It’s something else that hurts.
There is a large amount of excess in self-perception, and the extra "limbs" are delivering negative feelings that occupy the entire mind to the consciousness.
It was an extreme pain, as if the hands and feet were folded up in a very small space and could not be stretched. The tissues with poor blood supply first became sore and swollen, then stung, and finally developed into necrosis, but the nerves in them did not die. , still faithfully conveys the pain of tightening the rickets, and even the pain itself falls into endless, endless corruption.
It is not fiction, but something that actually exists, squeezing heavily on consciousness.
The busy monks could not feel this. They were working together to drag the incapacitated professor out of the water to prevent the latter from drowning in the boat due to his inability to move.
Then nothing can be done.
As a professional armed personnel, I do know some on-the-spot first aid knowledge, although it is limited to opening the collar for ventilation, checking whether there is serious trauma, and maybe applying some hemostatic bandaging.
Normally this wouldn't be a disadvantage, as long as it lasts until the doctor arrives.
But now, they were lost in the filth, surrounded by darkness and floating objects, and the only doctor in the team looked like he needed a doctor.
If that were all, it wouldn't be so bad. After all, this is not the first time that similar experiences have occurred. Those raging pains submerged the consciousness like a flood, and receded like a flood. It will take some time for the softening of the spiritual foundation to be reflected.
Even Father Green, who was most affected, barely recovered, holding his head to organize order.
The two were responsible for stabilizing Kraft; those who still had the physical strength to find as many containers as possible to scoop out the water in the boat; the remaining people sorted out the remaining supplies and found things inside that could restore the open flame.
It may be due to the idea that surviving a catastrophe will lead to good fortune. They mentally default to some kind of luck or even the blessing of gods, or they think that nothing can survive the disaster with them by chance, so they don’t do more activities. cover.
After only a few minutes, they discovered that their idea was completely wrong.
A monk who was leaning over to scoop up water accidentally noticed a spot of light in front of his eyes when he raised his head.
He initially thought it was a normal sign of overexertion and didn't pay much attention until he began to wonder why it didn't move with his field of vision, but was covered by the side of the ship when he lowered his head.
When he looked up again, the spot became larger.
When everyone received the warning, the thing was already close to a dangerous distance, dragging a diffuse fluorescent trail behind it, and some kind of luminous body fluid flowed from the wound, like a meteor in the water.
Judging only by visual inspection, the size is no less than the hull of a ship.
They didn't know what it was, but that light, that bleak and cold white light, was a memory that could not be erased.
Some monks tried to row away, but the half-full hull was slow and sluggish, and it was useless except a waste of energy.
Green relied on the pedals to pull the crossbow open again. The strings made of mixed materials were soaked with water. They felt loose and sluggish, like a wet rag being tightened, and the accuracy was severely reduced.
After being shot out, the arrows that were also fished out of the water poked out a splash of water next to the light spot. This was their most powerful counterattack before a close encounter. There are no second chances, and it will arrive before the horribly slow reassembly process is completed.
The arm can still pick up the weapon, but it can only be picked up. The cold and exhaustion pull the arm down, shaking uncontrollably.
Getting closer, you can even see the way it moves. Several flexible limbs stretch and contract to push forward, rising and approaching the water. The light is getting stronger and stronger, coming from the raised light tumor, which flickers on and off among the dense branch structures on the surface.
His consciousness began to blur, and he felt that it was a pair of soft arms, spreading his palms as thin as hair, embracing the lost traveler in the darkness.
Overlapping sounds like a requiem bubbled up, surrounding the exhausted spirit, and it was difficult to resist the choice to plunge into it.
Then they heard the sound of water beside them.
With no one to help him, Kraft slipped into the water again and held on to the side of the boat. The suffocating feeling of water in the lungs temporarily overshadowed the mental pain for a moment, and then was stimulated by the sudden intrusion of new things, and the main consciousness briefly woke up.
The spiritual senses have long been disconnected, at least they should be disconnected, but they can still clearly feel the illusory existence. Perhaps this is its essence - another part that is always in denial and can never be escaped.
But what we need to think about now is obviously not this, but the painful knowledge flowing around.
Wakefulness is more painful than chaos, and pain drives consciousness to produce some extremely sharp will to destroy.
The foreign object embedded in the left arm is on the verge of arousal, synchronizing with the boiling spiritual body, responding to that will, eager to tear apart everything around it, including ships, lakes, darkness, and even
【This level of depression】
Consciousness wants to do that and can do that.
The phenomenon of tearing is an expression of pain. He has fully resonated with that pain and can naturally express it.
The body that was still spasming irregularly a moment ago suddenly burst out with amazing force, pushing the figure in front of him away.
The muscles in his left arm tightened the skin and the blood vessels swelled. He slashed hard like a sword and landed on the water, causing a large splash.
Something happened, and the movement and stillness were not even comparable to the softest ripples of water. Only the person who initiated it knew that it was the bitter fruit brewed by the most terrible torture, and the pain of the spiritual body was transformed into physical scars.
A thin line appears out of thin air, without any color in itself, as if a transparent hair is blocking the way between the ship and the approaching light source. But a new flow direction immediately emerged around it, as if its appearance brought about a huge change in water pressure, stirring up the sediment on its trajectory, and thus appearing in the water.
This brought some hope. A few pairs of eyes stared at the strips formed by the turbid vortex, with no time to think about where it came from and how it was related to the sudden movements of the wounded.
Hope only lasted for a few breaths, and the white light passed through the boundary without any hindrance, without even the slightest sign of being hindered. It was no more difficult than passing through a phantom.
The luminous creature continued to approach at a constant speed, raising the front half of its limbs.
The proximal end attached to the body is swinging, while the distal end remains in place.
There was a certain disconnect in its movement, causing it to come to an incomprehensible halt, then to a complete standstill, a loss of momentum.
They watched the light spot fall silently, splitting into two unrelated pieces before being completely swallowed up by the dark abyss under the sand.