Nuan Nuan Saves the World [Comprehensive British and American]

The throne made of black and white gravel collapsed with the shattering of the dream, and the black chess king sitting on the throne fell from the high platform exhaustedly, with thorny thorns wrapped around him, chains and shackles wrapped around his wrists, ankles, and neck. On the ground, deeply pierced into the flesh and blood, devouring Chris' barely conscious will like tarsal maggots.

Chris felt a little cold, probably from the profuse bleeding.No matter what, he is now the most ordinary body of flesh and blood, and he will die if he bleeds too much.What's more, he has been continuously drawn a large amount of power, and he has been in a state of high-load operation for a long time, just like a car that is too fast.

But he has nothing to complain about, after all, in the final analysis, the blame can only be pinned on his own head--spells are the purest idealism products, the concrete products of strong will, including this reality that is too perfect In the final analysis, the dream is nothing more than the reflection of Chris's own inner mirror image.

He weaved such a story, endowed this fairy tale with too much desire and fantasy, he endowed the inner desire with life, and turned the illusory story into a real dream.

So he lost himself in this dream and could not wake up.

And this story in which all the characters on the stage are too real and flesh-and-blood is based on the memories he thought he had lost.

——Chris has spent a long time exploring his own existence, his resurrection from the dead, his lost memories and the suit parts with different abilities in the system wardrobe.

Out of the desire to control oneself as an intelligent creature, and the deep-rooted and incurable thirst for knowledge as a mage.

And the rebellious struggle that screamed dark desires in his brain against what he wasn't willing to face back then.

For a long, long time, Chris desperately wanted to be a real elf, to be able to blend into the elf forest, you know, to have a family or something.

In fact, he almost fulfilled this wish. He was recognized by the tree of life and gained the friendship of the elves. He once thought that he could really become an elf.

Until one day, he suddenly realized that he was the only alien among the elves.

Those ugly thoughts that floated in his mind, those gentleness and kindness disguised by hypocrisy, those lies and vicious thoughts that were out of his control, drove his every move like an instinctive subconscious.

What makes him happy is not the peaceful and peaceful life in the forest of elves, but the terrifying desire of indulging in this lie that even he has lied to, stepping on the boundary line and looking forward to the moment of falling.

His nature determines that he can never become a real elf,

At the same moment, he wondered if the memory of his past really disappeared at the moment of death.

Memory is the combination of past images and emotions, and it is the most important cornerstone of self-awareness and complete personality.If all his memories had disappeared, why would there still be dark thoughts stirring in the depths of his mind, clamoring for ugly and invisible dirty desires, whispering from the deepest part of his soul.

If he knows where he came from, if he knows who he is, if he finds out what happened in his past, will the whispers that tempt him fall into the abyss stop, will the things that make him struggle and suffer? Evil thoughts will disappear.

Even if you can't become an elf, can it prove that those evil thoughts are not born with you.

He was so ridiculously stubborn that he clung to the only clues unreasonably. For this reason, he left the forest of elves where he was originally taken in, mixed into the complicated wars and loves of human beings, fell into the deepest part of hell, and from hell Climb back to the world.

The fall and sinking were quicker and more silent than he imagined, and even happiness and relaxation were like returning to the mother's body, as if he was born to be like this, but when he climbed up from the mud, the long and painful torment was still there until now. Will show a sense of presence from time to time.

But it's all worth it.

Chris finally found those memories, in the part of the wardrobe copy that the system hides from him.

The system always likes to be smart and unrepentant to do some stupid things, telling Chris to always use some dangerous, extreme and abnormal means to force the other party to compromise. Those communication processes that will be classified as courting death belong to Chris. Talking about a part of the past, in short, the result is that he finally lifted the damn permission of the system, and saw the text marked on every piece of clothing in the wardrobe.

Just a few words, three or two lines of text, plus gorgeous dresses, jewels and jade rings, hastily painted the afterimage of a story, and outlined the outline of a character with spring and autumn brushwork.

The stories he's been through, the people he's met.

The fragmentary legacy of his past memories.

Both Chris' death and reorganization were caught off guard, and the memory was forced to be edited and deleted to adapt to different forms of existence.

At that time, only half of his soul could not carry so many memories, and the semi-digital structure could not be compatible with the intense and complex emotions in the memory.The irrelevant memories in the brain are first deleted and reduced, and the rest are stuffed into the system code that discards almost all data streams. After deconstruction and reorganization of data and energy, they become a more realistic existence, and become a dazzling array of dresses in the closet. decorate.

Whenever he touches the scenery, people, and stories similar to his memory, he will wake up the dusty memory, and see the tiny cows and feathers of the past world among those dazzling skirt colors.

He is insatiable and satisfied.

"I remembered why this story didn't end." Chris squinted his eyes and leaned lazily on Peter. He had a dream that was too long, and he was still a little sleepy.

"I thought you had already figured it out." Peter held Chris in his arms, enjoying the peace and tenderness after the absurd adventure.

He carefully untied the thorns wrapped around Chris's body. The sharp thorns on the thorns cut a wound on his hand. The dark red blood dripped on the thorns and mixed with Chris's blood. Wei Li chuckled twice, and leaned over to bite Peter's bruised fingertips.

The blood was sweet and hot, obviously the temperature in his mouth should be higher, but Chris felt that the blood stained on the tip of his tongue would cause burning pain like a scar in his mouth.

Chris showed a rare soft and docile appearance, smiled and raised his head to give a shallow kiss to the lover who was staring at him. There was still a slight coolness between his lips and teeth, which made people want to do something more to make him become Gotta warm up.

Don't be like the little goblin in the story who burned all the light, with dim and broken wings and a heart turned into ashes, so cold that people think that what they are holding tightly in their hands is the snow in the sky in winter.

Peter licked his lips to deepen the kiss. The cold lips were warmed by the young man's passionate kiss and sucking, showing a faint color of blood. Chris indulged himself in enjoying this ardent lingering flattery, and when he opened his mouth with a low smile, there was a bit of a Very vague and ambiguous tiredness, "I did think about it, but unfortunately I couldn't write it out."

It doesn’t matter if this is really a story, Chris can casually make up seven or eight endings that are well-founded and have no logical loopholes. It looks good and can be done.

The black chess king sleeping under the cold and dirty lake, and the kind and innocent elf Crowe in the beautiful dream above the lake.

He hides the deepest darkness and longing in his heart.

Well, in the past.

"I can't accept my own darkness." The curve of Chris's lips was gentle and mocking, "So I can't get the light."

He wasn't a cunning, insidious and bastard control freak from the very beginning. Although he unknowingly went astray in the process of reclaiming his memory and chasing his dreams, what he longed for at the beginning was also to be able to become a real elf.

Otherwise, Chris wouldn't have accepted his first and last name so quickly, and Kloe in the fairy tale wouldn't be called Kloe.

Who made Chris remember that the prince of the wood elves was called Cloris.

Anyway, the other party will not chase him into this world to ask him for an explanation. Chris is not guilty at all when he borrows it—he is not guilty at all now, but he was still very guilty when he wrote it back then.

Otherwise, how could it still feel ashamed to be seen by others today, just like some mature adults are read aloud from the character setting notes in the second period.

There is nothing more public execution than this.

The Story of Eternal Night Kingdom belongs to Chris's past dreams. In this story, he entrusted his deepest desires and dreams. He could not accept his innate evil thoughts and dark side, and followed his fantasy to create the elf Crowe to go. Pursue the light and expel the darkness, but at the end of the story, he has to know that light and darkness are one.

Behind the light there must be the shadow of night.When the queen of darkness fell asleep, the princess of dawn woke up in the fragrance of dulce flowers, the morning glow dyed the skirt of the night, the sun made her black hair bright golden, and the night castle was covered with beautiful white in the morning light. Yarn, light and darkness, like the cycle of day and night, have reached a perfect balance.

Chris can't get such a balance, so he can only leave a large blank at the end of the story. The end of the dream is only the ruins of the cold and dirty lake. In the desperate nightmare, I can't find the direction to wake up.

This dream was terrible, but Chris also had to admit that when he was dragged by Peter from the cold and dead dream into reality, the great joy that rushed to his heart in an instant completely washed away the negativity brought about by this terrible dream Influence.

Peter was a little overzealous, perhaps a side effect of the clothes.The stiff fabric and leather decoration of the uniform will always subtly provoke some bad thoughts in the hearts of young people. Of course, Peter will not do anything reckless in this situation, but he is indeed incited Unconsciously, the range of movements increased, turning the touch that was just a touch into a deep kiss with lips and tongue intertwined.

Chris doesn't reject this, although it's a little out of control and out of place, he can't help but want to respond to something.

He felt that the body submerged in the cold dream was warmed up again, those evil thoughts brought up again by the past, the dark desires buzzing in his ears like flies, all seemed to touch the sunshine of winter. Snow generally melts.

Quiet and peaceful like never before.

Chris hasn't learned to come to terms with his dark side until now, and even in his most desperate and paranoid moments he never wanted to let those twisted longings dominate his consciousness.

He just learned how to handle his emotions and thoughts more properly, and was able to snuff out every thought that shouldn't come up at the budding stage with ease.

But, Chris thought vaguely, he didn't and it didn't matter.Even if he is the black chess king trapped in a nightmare and can only see despair and darkness, Peter will catch his falling soul when the throne collapses.

Like a morning star, it guides the direction of dawn and wakes him up from the never-ending nightmare.

The unfinished story has finally come to a perfect, fairy-tale ending-the dream world is twisted and twisted into colorful and mixed color blocks like muddy water, and light seeps in from the darkness.The darkness was pushed away like a mist by invisible big hands.In the silence, insects chirped, birds chirped, leaves rustled, flowing water leaped over sharp turns and obstacles, and collided with the scoured extremely smooth pebbles to create a clear sound of water.

How to put it, just as Tagore wrote, the prince's palace is on the sun-drenched terrace, and the small puddles reflecting the morning light are the oceans and rivers on which he sailed.

The notebook that fell on the ground was spread out on the title page, and the handwriting written in dark green ink was entangled. It quietly climbed from the page to the pillars of the terrace, winding out green vines and luxuriant leaves, and then Dulcey flowered on the branches. The heads bloom quietly, and the clouds are like colors falling heavily on the branches after being squeezed.

The dew of Tulcy's flower is a lover's kiss.

Noticing abnormal fluctuations in magic power, Archmage Merlin hurried over and stood three meters away from Chris's residence, expressionlessly turning his gaze away from the shameless couple who were kissing each other on the terrace early in the morning. move away.

He swore that if he had any worries about the bastard Chris again, he would punish himself as an archmage for the rest of his life :)