Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

In this backward world that has not yet been ravaged by headphones and speakers, most people can still achieve the first half of "sight and hearing", and Kraft is no exception.

He felt that he heard something, although it was very imperceptible, and it even made people suspect that it was an auditory hallucination caused by being in a silent environment for too long.

It's like someone is dragging a heavy sack on the snow, low-quality fiber or something else is grinding tiny crystals, the soft snow layer is broken under the action of strong external force, and then the space is squeezed, countless clever snowflakes break and collapse Into dull blocks of snow—that was the sound he heard.

If the feeling was correct, the voice was passing less than five meters away from Kraft's window. In the darkness where Kraft, a well-nourished young man, could not see, it moved decisively and powerfully.

This makes it difficult to convince yourself of a valid reason, such as explaining it as a late returner or a thief carrying a heavy booty.

No, of course that's not possible. Kraft's hand has been pressed on the hilt of the sword. Although the inactive alien now occupies half of this soul, the other half that has controlled this body for more than ten years can completely complete the sword from the sword in an instant. The difficult move of moving the sword from its scabbard to someone else's neck.

Maybe he wouldn't react so violently for the time being, but he could stun an untrained adult head-on with just the scabbard.

That voice, that voice that was so slight that it was almost an auditory hallucination, did not change. It's like lingering in the same spot, not moving far away. It is continuous and low, gratuitously reminiscent of a train roaring past in front of you. You will hear a continuous roar before all the trains of carriages leave.

Kraft described the owner of this voice in his mind. It must be as long and huge as a train, but it can move softly in the snow. People who have not seen its body can only imagine it from the long rustling sound. body posture.

The content constructed using hearing and unfounded imagination was too bizarre and closer to nonsensical dreams than objective reality. It almost made him suspect that he was in a state of half-dream and half-awake, and his low-power brain misinterpreted vague information and subjective content without analyzing it. The ground mixed with each other, and the result was that there was a train strolling quietly in front of him.

But he knew that he was very awake, sober that he could feel the cold wind entering through his mouth and nose, passing through the barrier of his lips and teeth, swirling between the arches of his pharynx and palate, and then being swallowed into his throat.

There is no time for the cold airflow preheated by the nasal cavity to scrape away the thin moisture on the mucous membrane, and the sensitive nerves faithfully transmit the signal to the brain. In such coldness, the body's emergency mechanism begins to work. The catecholamine hormones secreted by the activated adrenal medulla will excite his circulatory system. Blood is pumped along the arteries into the circle of Willis, and then circulates throughout the brain to ensure this Delicate organs function normally.

So is it possible that there really was a long, silent behemoth passing in front of him, but counterintuitively it only made an imperceptible sound?

Then it even avoided all obstacles and did not run over even half a board or dead branch in the messy village. It wanders so freely in the snowy night, and the boundless darkness is the sea where it moves freely.

In this sea area, the low wall made of rocks and clay is no different from the void. What it rubs against is not the snowfall, but something more subtle and abstract. It is light but can support the huge body to move according to its will.

Kraft didn't understand how he understood this from the faint voice, or there was no need to think at all. The complex and bizarre content was already contained in this voice.

He felt that his thoughts had never been so active. Whether he was wielding an iron sword or writing answers that he had already learned by heart, it could not be compared to now. It was red-hot metal forged by a hammer, thoughts flying like sparks, and a boiling soul that could not be accommodated by human skulls that had evolved over thousands of years.

As time goes by, the already full mind is filled with more information. Normally, you would not think of things being pulled out from under the water, and countless contents are rolling by like a revolving door - that thin layer of gray matter is trying to store the limited information. Finding something to describe what I learned from this voice gave rise to the illusion that my thoughts were like lightning.

This process is completely out of the control of subjective consciousness, which is like standing in front of an open dam and watching everything the two souls know pour out.

The cross-linked neuron network chose "scale" among countless words to describe the skin that rubs against subtle substances. It is a fragmented shell composed of unexplainable content, which allows it to come into contact with the slightest concept and make the lengthy subject Meaningful activities take place in the space.

The subject attached to the "scales" is far beyond the scope of consciousness, developing from the known to the unknown in the depths of darkness.

The "sound" of its movement is the peeling debris caused by the friction between the "scales" and fine substances. When it leaves the body, it begins to decay irrepressibly, from the space of another concept where it is located, towards the overlapping space. The space that humans can realize falls and eventually disintegrates into information suitable for existing in this world.

Such information continues to spread, spreading like a spreading sound wave vibration, and making a final roar before being annihilated. However, only souls beyond ordinary people can access this information under special circumstances, poor water-containing organic tissues protected by a hard calcium salt dome. Before boiling, passively realize the existence of the source.

But now, this small, lucky individual, who was formed by the accidental mixing of two souls, has reached a certain subtle passing line due to the double increase in volume but no expansion, and is able to "hear" him. Something unimaginable in two short, barren lives. He could not describe it in human language, but could only define it as an indescribable existence that transcended the reality he knew.

On the edge of madness, he understood the meaning of the patterns on the stone pillars he saw during the day - those things fell from a higher level, changed and twisted in the process of falling, and came into this world.

The people who accepted it couldn't understand its true meaning, so they described it with elements existing in this world, describing it as a giant snake in the night. It winds endlessly and its body is submerged in the endless darkness.

Kraft was drifting in wild thoughts, everything around him moved away from him, and he didn't even know if he was still standing in front of the window. Until a hand rested on his shoulder.

…………

"Craft, you're not going to stand here all night, are you? Kraft?"

Vision returned in an instant, and the pupillary sphincter contracted violently in the rare sunlight. Feeling weightless, Kraft found that his stiff body was rapidly leaning forward according to the push from his left shoulder, and the white window sill enlarged in front of him at a frightening speed.