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, and palms. There were only small scratches and bumps caused by bumps, which were all limited to the surface, and no flaws were found.
It's something else that hurts.
There are a lot of redundant parts in self-perception, and the extra "limbs" are sending 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 circulation were first sore and swollen, then stinging, 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 has fallen into endless, endless decay.
It is not fiction, but something that actually exists, squeezing the consciousness heavily.
The monks who were in a hurry 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 there is nothing you can do.
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 for serious trauma, and maybe applying some hemostatic bandaging.
Normally this is not a disadvantage, as long as it lasts until the doctor arrives.
But now, they were lost in the filth, accompanied by darkness and floating objects, and the only doctor in the team looked like he needed a doctor.
If that were the case, it wouldn't be so bad. After all, this was not the first time such a similar experience had occurred. Those raging pains flooded the consciousness and receded like a flood. It would take some time for the softening of the spiritual foundation to be reflected.
Even Father Green, who was most affected, managed to recover and put his head in order to organize things.
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, psychologically defaulting to some kind of luck or even divine blessing, or thinking that nothing can survive the disaster with them by chance, so they did not do more activities.
hidden.
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.
At first, he thought it was a normal phenomenon due to overexertion and didn't pay much attention to it until he began to wonder why it didn't move with his vision, but was covered by the side of the ship when he lowered his head.
When I 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 kind of light, that pale and cold white light, was a memory that couldn't 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 leaned on the pedals to pull up the crossbow again. The strings made of mixed materials were soaked with water, and they felt loose and sluggish like a wet rag being tightened, and the accuracy was seriously reduced.
After the arrows that were also fished out of the water were shot out, they 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 appallingly slow reassembly process is completed.
The arm can still pick up the weapon, but it can only be picked up. The cold and exhaustion make the arm droop and tremble uncontrollably.
Getting closer, you can even see the way it moves, with several flexible limbs stretching and contracting to push forward, floating up 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.
My consciousness began to blur, and I felt that it was a pair of soft arms, with palms as thin as hair, embracing the travelers who were lost in the darkness.
The overlapping sounds like a requiem bubbled up, surrounding the exhausted spirit, and it was difficult to refuse 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 clung to the side of the boat. The suffocation of the water in his lungs temporarily overshadowed the mental pain for a moment, and he was stimulated by the sudden intrusion of new things, and his main consciousness briefly revived.
The spiritual senses have been disconnected for a long time, at least they should be disconnected, but they can still clearly feel the existence of those illusions. 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 cognition that is 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 mental 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 spasming irregularly just 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 down 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 slender line appeared out of thin air, without any color in itself, as if a transparent hair was blocked between the ship and the approaching light source. But a new flow direction immediately formed around it, as if its appearance brought about a huge change in water pressure, stirring the trajectory.
The sediment appears in the water.
This brought some hope. A few pairs of eyes stared at the strips formed by the turbid whirlpool. There was 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 its limbs...the front half of its limbs.
The proximal end connected to the body is swinging, while the distal end remains in place.
There was a certain disconnect in its movement, causing it to pause incomprehensibly, and then to stagnate completely, losing momentum.
They watched the light spot fall silently, splitting into two unrelated pieces before being completely swallowed by the dark abyss under the sand.