From the outside, the computing center is a very mediocre building. The main body is just a large square box, made of stone slurry and some kind of curing agent, and supported by an alloy frame. The outer railings had collapsed, like remnants of some kind of earthquake. In one corner of the building, a dark red patch of fixed piles on the artificial foundation was exposed.
Jing Huang lingered outside the railing for a while. It was not his first time here and he had never encountered a guard or guard. Unlike the imposing Ethical House, Room Zero is generally considered to be unguarded.
In certain weather conditions, the computing center's appearance changes. Sometimes there is an extra cover made of plant fiber on the flat roof, like a lemon-yellow tent. On any kind of rainy day, something strange might grow out of the cracks in your sunken foundation.
At this moment, a very thin blue birch branch grew out of the gap between the dark red pillars. The leaves on the branches are dry and pale, with a pink pattern that resembles an eye.
Jing Huang stepped over the railing and stopped by the birch branch. He didn't have a clear answer yet, but a vague foresight was already looming in front of his eyes. It was different from the tobacco that gave birth to live rats or the thorns that kept bleeding purple blood the last time he saw it. This birch branch had something closer to him. A dark foreshadowing. The invisible thread tightened wherever he walked.
Something extraordinary is about to happen. He was aware of this, but could not describe the matter clearly. Although certain powers related to his origin can be more easily revealed in this infinite city, there is no wave at all here. His relationship with those connections also grew thinner in Infinite Matter. No, he had trouble judging whether things were good or bad. However, things tend to go south when it comes to those who claim to be engineers and liberators of life. This is not a precise calculation, but a general rule of thumb. Because of this, he planned to come alone to find this city.
Before entering the computing center, he threw the coat that Toba had forced on him on the railing. Ji Xun's associates claimed that this was to avoid attracting attention (who would attract attention?), because after all, he and Ji Xun shared the same face. The doctor who lives in room number 3.95 Pi, although he lacks a catchy house number, has gained a lot of reputation for his willingness to help others.
Doctor is not a profession, it is more like a compliment. There is only one disease that can be cured in the infinite city of the end. Whenever people notice that they have signs of contracting the wandering disease, they go to the square to ask for people who are good at relieving it. An experienced helper can greatly inhibit the progression of the disease or even cure it completely. Of course, in the long run, everyone will inevitably die.
Jing Huang was not unfamiliar with this disease. He knew that no spell could do anything about it. Any cracks are just appearances - when the scope of the problem extends to infinity, those things with inevitability will inevitably be exposed.
He stepped over the rusty old door and walked deep into the computing center along the heavily molted passage. His steps were not fast, but the walls on both sides of the passage seemed to be retreating rapidly in silence. A desolate and eerie silence enveloped House Zero. This lifeless machine has been running endlessly for eternity.
As with each of his visits, the structure inside the computing center is always changing, even if the exterior style remains the same. He noticed the pattern on the mixed metal floor, a honeycomb-like structure of countless hexagons, each reflecting a withered fan-leaf eye as the soles of his boots grazed its surface. . In an instant, he felt that there were tens of thousands of eyes staring at him in this passage.
He stopped and waited for a while, but when he heard no sound, he continued to move forward.
As he went deeper, the light cyan coating on the wall peeled off like dead skin. The color of the wall itself has changed from dull to bright and rich, with single colors, two colors, stripes of dozens of colors, floral lines of thousands of colors, and spots of hundreds of millions of different colors. After Jing Huang took an unsurprising step, the entire passage had completely lost its original appearance. It has countless edges and curves, but none of them look the same; it has countless non-repeating colors, so that each one only occupies the smallest area. No life with limited thinking can bear this scene. But at the same time, it demands to be understood and noticed. When the eye of matter passes over this infinite tapestry of colors and shapes, what appears to the unfortunate mind is only a picture of the deepest nightmare, a terrible darkness that has never existed in the world.
Jing Huang looked around. The path has now completely disappeared. He was surrounded only by color, with no optical clues to tell him the distance or the size of the object. This colorful and terrifying cauldron of all things, this chaotic esophagus of the cosmic beast. He reached out his hand to the broken things, and the back of his hand disappeared under his gaze. The feeling in my hands is still there. He is still alive.
He took another step forward. Then all the colored dots started to fly. They no longer follow any spatial rules and appear anywhere at will. in front of him. behind. A thousand steps away. in vivo. Space and distance cease to exist. There is only a wild dance of mustard seeds at the end of the universe. The collapse of this endless silence. His consciousness faded. Consciousness and madness are superimposed. He died. No. He still exists.
In this place of endless chaos and madness, he still felt the existence of invisible threads. When he thought of it, it gave him body and presence, like drawing him out of a painting. That thing that lingers. He struggled to move forward.
color. Now the color has a body again. They are all grand and complete, with independent universes gestating within them. But at the same time they are also superimposed on each other. All events occur simultaneously, all life exists simultaneously. They were all crowded into his consciousness. his perception. perception. who is he?
That thread became loose.
He still staggered forward, and in his consciousness, there was a feeling of imaginary progress. There is no real progress because space itself is an illusion. A perception of change. Now he was conscious again. It is the universe that expands and contracts on both sides of his body. All the explosions, and the microwaves caused by the ripples of color. Those microwaves make everything sing. Yes. He remembered. The world originated from a voice and will also be destroyed by a voice. The microwaves surging in that process are just echoes and brewing.
go ahead. He felt tired and miserable. There is no real physical pain. It's an illusion of weight. At some point in history, heavy matter existed. They look no different from the light material world, but a stone the size of a fist cannot be lifted. In the final infinite city, the losers of the question-and-answer ceremony will be completely decomposed by heavy metal plates. Yes, he had experienced it - but who was he?
He moved forward. Or think that you are moving forward, towards some brightly lit place in your imagination. But in the infinite time and infinite feelings, he soon lost his imagination about moving forward. He couldn't remember what it felt like. He was trapped in this chaotic chaos, staring at everything in vain. After countless universes of countless colors came and went, he finally heard the ringing of bells ringing in his ears. it's time. He couldn't delay any longer.
The invisible thread began to tighten. His bones and flesh regained consciousness during the tearing process. At the end of the chaos, he began to look for the mirror that followed him again. When he thought about it, it immediately outlined his outline, his body, and his name. The sound of golden bells echoes endlessly. He must go back.
Let this end. As he thought this, he felt a wave of energy jumping through his body. Colorless light. heat. fire. The heat made up all his consciousness. He stood up and said with all his strength: "Broken."
The sound of golden bells echoed in the city, and there were only three hours left until midnight. Jing Huang sat alone at the shabby and deserted entrance of the computing center. He panted exhausted and cast a cold glance down the corridor.
Do not look directly. The voice behind the mirror whispered in his mind.
Jing Huang stood up unsteadily and went to the railing to grab the discarded coat to cover the red lines and distortion on his face. Close your eyes and ignore it. He then threw the coat to the ground and burned it cleanly with a fire. Beside the exposed dark red foundation pile, the birch branches that attracted his special attention were swaying. He sat down close to the railing, looked at it tiredly, and finally fell asleep to the sound of golden bells.
