Arriving alone: ​​70 billion copies of survival

Chapter 68 Pierre Omidyar

The crazy war horn was completely turned into powder when the distortion Washington was on the verge of collapse because it was the carrier of the will test.

It was like being snapped by Thanos, turning into powder in a strange form, and then even the powder disappeared from the world.

It is as if the most fundamental particles that make up it have never appeared in the world.

The horse made of human corpses, which had seemed extremely anxious from the beginning, fell apart in an instant and turned into more than a dozen completely inactive corpses.

Aberration Washington also fell weakly on the scorched ground.

It looked up, and the face turned into a half-molten state.

An extremely shrill roar that was unlike any other came from its vocal organs.

As a result, the Gravekeeper of the Stars, which had been almost completely dismantled, broke free from the shackles of the flesh-eaters, and fled underground like a pangolin wrapped in distortion Washington.

But the ground was not damaged at all.

He Gang breathed a sigh of relief.

This thing that can't even be adjusted in the attribute panel looks weird no matter how you look at it.

It's still easy to deal with this kind of meat eater.

He looked at the flesh-eating carnivore with its flesh and blood boiling and twisting, and an extremely huge black shadow extending from the bottom of its body.

Corpse stink.

Strong corpse odor.

The task requires that there is one last defilement left to be removed.

[Kill all the filth inside the fortress (26/27), recapture, purify and release the polluted souls (0/10000)]

If there is no accident, the souls that escaped from the shadows under the feet of the 26 weeping angels should be captured by the meat eaters again, right under its feet.

That overwhelming black shadow.

But the will summoned by the frantic war cry seemed to destroy more than just Washington's will.

He did something else.

There are many things waking up.

Those things that sleep in the ground, those things that are imprisoned in pits, those things that grow on the only tree.

All filth is awakening.

They make all kinds of uncomfortable noises.

"That thing is watching us."

"It seems... conscious?"

He Gang grabbed Hancock and he swallowed.

Every eyeball on the surface of the meat-eater's body is flickering, they have passed from gray and white decay, but its entire body seems to be losing its vitality and gradually shrinking.

The smell of decay, dilapidation, and death is covering this astonishingly filthy head, making its form more and more similar to that of humans.

It's just that compared to humans, it's still huge.

……

Head hurts.

It hurts so much.

It seems... dreaming again?
How many times is this?

It was an era of prosperity, peace, and CBC reporting celebrity lace news all day long.

Looks like Toronto...

The seagulls migrating from New York were all smelled of alcohol in the old winery.

He was thinking wildly again.

In this kind of muddle-headed and difficult to control his body, he always tried to conceive some good days in his mind in Toronto or Vancouver.

He likes fishing.

So is she.

This sounds like a typical old man's music project, but for someone like him whose brain needs to work quickly, go to a place with beautiful mountains and rivers to sit for a while on weekends without communicating with anyone, holding the cup in the left hand and the stick in the right. A few hours in a daze is the best way to rest.

It seems to be the same for her.

That's how they seem to know each other.

where is it?
Toronto parks?Or the lakeside in Ontario?
Lots of jumping whitefish and yellow perch.

And a flamboyant smile.

Every time she gave him several tails.

He opened his eyes wide in the darkness and sang Red River Valley in a low voice. Although the tune had completely changed, he remembered the time when she caught more white salmon.

At that time...

So sweet...

But at this time, he couldn't help thinking of that incident again, and whenever he thought of it, it seemed to hurt his heart.

It hurts more than this dark eternity.

It seemed that he was also the one who threw stones at her that day.

Yes, yes, who... can really escape the barrier in my heart?
Although I knew it was wrong, who spoke that day?

We don't have many days to live.

Who cares whether they eat people or sheep?

Simply everyone threw stones that day, so there was no need to slaughter another "sheep".

Then no one will talk.

Human nature really cannot stand the test. Yesterday we were all evangelists in the civilized world, but it seemed like we had returned to the Dark Middle Ages overnight.

Even if they found out later how much she had paid, so what?

Everyone is going to die.

I'm going to die too.

never mind.

People seem to be cold and thin. Who cares what she has done, except for high-sightedness?

She is willing to die, willing to do, willing to pay, she is stupid.

What does it have to do with us?
Thinking of this, the breath he was holding seemed to be released.

I'm sorry, I'm really sorry...

If I had known earlier, I would have...

I'm such a beast...

I……

I really wish I could die with you...

That was probably a relief.

He wanted to move his hands and feet in the endless darkness, this kind of phantom limb disease in consciousness was very painful.

He thought that there should be no living people left in the world.

I'm afraid no one will know about this.

Suddenly want to laugh.

Want to cry again.

He didn't want her to die like this.

He wanted to... help her.

But he is too cowardly.

Even if he did stand up later.

At this time, a dazzling light pierced from the distance to the extreme darkness, and then, one after another...

Countless points of light pierced the darkness in the distance.

It was as if countless eyes had been opened to him.

A little uncomfortable.

When the real, real sense of control came back to him, he moved his body with difficulty.

Like rust.

It's like... a little mechanical bird stuck in a gear by many things.

From the countless light spots, he looked down at the two men and a big cat, and the black scorched earth edge in the distance, where a thin layer had accumulated under his feet, as if it would not decay or be blown by the wind at all. Tree with scattered maple leaves.

He suddenly remembered what had happened.

So in order to communicate better, he bent down.

"I am... Pierre Omidyar."

"You...don't..."

"D-did we get those things away?"

His voice is very strange.

Even he sounds weird to himself.

Like phlegm stuck in the throat.

It's like the vocal cords that haven't vibrated for 100 years are vibrating again.

(End of this chapter)