pdf-ebookys Chapter 496, Part 505: The World Rekindles 6
Chapter 496, Part 505: The World Rekindles 6
Chapter 496, Part 505: The World Rekindles 6
The interior of the temple was empty and dark.
Only the strange gems embedded in the walls and pillars provided illumination.
The air was thick, damp, and cold, filled with an even stronger sense of mental oppression. Countless dark purple waves, composed of pure madness, surged from the darkness deep within the temple. They swirled and flowed within the temple as if they were alive, eventually converging on a high platform at the deepest part of the temple.
And on the high platform.
There was a blurry figure.
The other party sat on a "throne" made of a huge seashell and twisted coral.
The figure was vaguely recognizable as Lina's silhouette, but taller and more indistinct, as if shrouded in a constantly shifting...
Behind a veil of light and shadow formed by the deep sea.
She was covered in a magnificent and bizarre robe that seemed to be woven from pearls, scales and living tentacles, and wore a crown on her head that resembled a miniature green nebula.
"Um?"
Ian squinted as he observed.
Lina's face was hidden in the shadows and could not be seen clearly, but in the place of her eyes, there seemed to be two cold, eerie lights flickering, as if they could see through the essence of the soul.
She sat there quietly, like the "core" of this bizarre city, like the "hub" connecting the dark depths from which countless streams of frantic data flowed.
The power swirling within the temple partially disappeared into the darkness behind her, while the rest seemed to be absorbed and processed by her, then subtly influenced the operation of the entire dream world in a more "orderly" way.
Yes.
She is the spokesperson for "God" in this dream world.
It was a projection of Cthulhu's vast, chaotic, and insane information, "personified" and "embodied" here, a manifestation of Lina's own consciousness being corrupted, distorted, and "appointed" here. Ian stood in an inconspicuous corner of the temple, quietly watching "Lina" on the high platform.
"Found it," he confirmed to himself.
To transform Lina into the "Raven Prophet," we must shatter this illusion here, in this core place where she perceives the source of her "identity" and "power," awaken her fallen self, and then cover and replace everything here with the mark of the "Raven."
But should we take direct action?
"inappropriate."
Ian glanced at the seemingly endless dark purple currents surging from the depths of the temple, and at the obscure fluctuations emanating from "Lina" on the high platform, which were closely connected to the entire dream world.
he knows.
A forced attack could trigger a violent backlash from the entire dream world, and might even alarm the deeper entities connected to the dream, causing Lina's soul structure to collapse instantly.
"We need a more—clever method." A thoughtful glint flashed in Ian's cold eyes.
He first needs to "awaken" the part of Lina's self-awareness that has been trapped here, even if it's just for a moment, so that she realizes that this is a "dream" and that her "identity" is false. As long as a "cognitive gap" is created, he can take advantage of the situation and plant the seed of the "raven".
How to wake it up?
Ian's gaze swept over the swirling data streams within the temple, over the shimmering gems embedded in the walls, and over the hazy figure of "Lina" on the high platform—
A plan quickly took shape in his mind.
He moved silently, as if blending into the shadows, and began to place some "little things" in the vast, blasphemous temple.
It's not a magic circle, but something closer to "information disturbance" and "cognitive suggestion." Well, the inspiration, of course, came from Ian's favorite movies.
Inception.
Isn't he doing something similar right now?
"Let me try." Ian secretly embedded the cold and orderly "fragments of information" belonging to the concept of "raven" in his consciousness into the tiny "gaps" and "nodes" of the crazy data flow in the temple, like sowing seeds.
These "seeds" will not sprout immediately; they will lie dormant, like a virus, subtly "polluting" the underlying information structure of this dream world.
It adds a discordant note to it.
This refers to the cold order and temporal rhythm of the "Raven." While doing this, Ian was also looking for an opportunity to approach the high platform and get closer to the fallen "Lina."
He did not rush to attack the core of "Lina's" consciousness on the high platform.
Like a patient hunter and a calm sociological observer, he continued to linger and observe in this solid yet insane deep dream.
"The seed has been planted."
To avoid alerting the enemy, Ian "walked" out of the temple and reintegrated into the eerie city.
This time, he was no longer just a passerby, but began to observe more closely how this "world under the influence of Cthulhu" "worked".
"Does this indicate incomplete contamination?"
Ian discovered that although the inhabitants here were outwardly alienated, they seemed to retain a certain degree of social structure and emotions. They would fight for resources and gather outside the temple on so-called "festival days" to perform twisted rituals filled with slippery body dances and strange chants.
Although the content is about praying to the "Sleeping God" for "blessings," Ian felt that the fact that Lina had emotions was a reflection of her completely dormant soul.
"If that's the case, then it becomes simpler."
Ian moved silently among these "dream dwellers." Although the language here was obscure, Ian's powerful mental perception allowed him to roughly understand its meaning.
Well, how should I put it?
There was no meaningful conversation either.
Besides their daily survival, these people's conversations revolved around themes such as "evolution," "listening to divine pronouncements," "waiting for the stars to return to their rightful place," and "dreams of the deep sea."
They seem to regard physical mutations as a "gift" and "evolution," and the more severe the mutation, the higher the status, and the more they are regarded as "close to God."
There are also "scholars" in the city who study the naturally generated blasphemous runes on the walls and interpret the nebula, which is the change of Cthulhu dream projection.
It is called "beautiful".
To take this opportunity to understand the will of the supreme ruler.
They're all writing about mental illness, and there are even "artists" here who create chilling yet bizarrely "beautiful" works using slime, phosphorescence, and living materials.
Everything proceeds in an orderly fashion under a distorted "logic." Madness is institutionalized here; blasphemy becomes common sense.
Ian even witnessed a “dispute mediation” where two residents argued over the right to use a “spiritually rich” cave.
Instead of seeking out a sheriff-like figure, these individuals went together to the outskirts of the temple to speak with a "clergyman" whose mutated features were particularly pronounced, resembling a hybrid of an octopus and a human.
"I think—"
The clergyman closed his eyes and "listened" for a moment before making his ruling. The loser, though dissatisfied, dared not disobey, only muttering complaints about the "unfavorable position of the stars."
"A self-consistent miniature social model built entirely on the logic of Cthulhu corruption," Ian thought to himself. "When Lena's subconscious was constructing this dream, it unconsciously referenced certain frameworks of human society, but completely replaced its core with the rules of Cthulhu."
"The part of her consciousness that has succumbed to this, playing the role of the 'top designer' and 'messenger of divine will,' makes her more deeply identify with this false identity and world." Ian continues to wait, while constantly sowing those cold "raven message seeds."
These seeds, like fine dust, quietly attach themselves to more places as the dream world unfolds: a brief lapse in pitch in a resident's unconscious whisper; an imperceptible dimming of the light from a luminous gem on the wall; a trivial lag in a data stream within the temple—
Quantitative changes are quietly accumulating.
Finally, after observing for a sufficiently long time.
After gaining a deeper understanding of the "operating rules" of the entire dream world and the "way" by which "Lina's" core consciousness connects with this world.
Ian felt the time was right.
He returned to the enormous temple. This time, he did not hide in a corner.
He stood inconspicuously on the outskirts of the temple, among the crowds performing some kind of daily prayer ritual, like an ordinary "resident" with some scales and webbed feet.
The surrounding "residents" prostrated themselves on the ground, chanting distorted hymns in a language filled with bubbly sounds, their eyes fixed fervently on the hazy figure on the high platform. Dark purple data streams swirled above their heads, as if responding to their prayers, emanating a wave that shook the very soul.
"Lina" on the high platform seemed to sense the believers' piety. She slightly raised a hand covered with fine, pearly scales. With her movement, the data stream surging from the depths of the temple became more active, with several thinner tributaries branching out, as if they had a life of their own, winding down and gently brushing over a few of the front-row worshippers who were the most obviously mutated.
The praying people, touched by the data stream, trembled violently, emitting whimpers that were a mixture of pain and ecstasy. Their alienated features seemed to become more pronounced and "splendid." The surrounding believers whispered envious murmurs.
At this moment when the collective consciousness was highly concentrated and the "rules" and "connections" of the dream world were most active and clear, Ian moved.
He did not use any earth-shattering magic.
He simply stood in the crowd, slightly raised his head, and stared directly at the hazy "Lina" on the high platform with his cold, calm eyes, which were completely out of place with all the fervent admiring gazes around him.
Then, his lips moved slightly, without making a sound, but he uttered a "message" that contained the cold, orderly qualities of the "Raven" and directly targeted the soul's cognition.
Like the sharpest needle, it precisely "projected" onto the fallen core of consciousness on the high platform.
"Look around you."
"All of this—"
"It was a dream."
Simple, straightforward, and without any frills.
But this sentence, coupled with the "raven information seed" that he had quietly sown for a long time and which was now slightly "resonating" at the bottom of the entire dream world, and his absolutely calm "presence" that was completely different from the crazy atmosphere of the whole world, was like a stone thrown into a distorted lake.
On the high platform, the hazy figure, like a spokesperson for a god, seemed to tremble slightly.
The veil of light and shadow shrouding her face also momentarily became disordered.
"Who is calling me?" Those "eyes," seemingly glowing with a concentrated, ghostly light, for the first time appeared to "focus," piercing the dimness of the temple, transcending the crowd, and landing on that inconspicuous figure, seemingly independent of the entire world.
On the body of the boy in black robes.
A faint trace of confusion and bewilderment, belonging to Lina's true self, like a tiny, unpolluted bubble rising from the bottom of the deep sea.
It quietly emerged from the depths of her consciousness, which was filled with madness and divinity.
The opportunity to awaken has already appeared.
"Lina Wind Whisperer".
"Look around you."
"All of this—"
"It was a dream."
The cold, clear words, seemingly imbued with an unquestionable force of order, pierced through the frenzied whispers and the buzzing of the frenzied data streams that filled the temple, like a diamond thrown into viscous asphalt, precisely striking the deepest recesses of the consciousness of the hazy figure on the high platform.
"What kind of dream?"
The veil of light and shadow shrouding Lina's face rippled and twisted violently, as if a calm surface of water had been broken. Her eyes, which had been like a cold, eerie light, suddenly came to life.
All I saw was...
The girl's sudden contraction revealed a fleeting, pure bewilderment and confusion—a quality unique to young girls.
She thought she heard her own name?
A name I haven't thought of for a very long time, almost forgotten.
"My name is Lina, yes, my name is Lina."
"But how long have I been here?"
Lina was whispering.
The distorted yet "harmonious" prayers around me, the damp, cold, and sticky feeling of the air, and the dark purple energy surging from the darkness and intimately connected to me.
In that instant, all of this seemed to be veiled by an unreal gauze.
"A dream—?" A faint, almost imperceptible thought struggled to emerge in the corner of her mind, which was filled with divinity and madness.
Ian caught the change! Now!
Without hesitation, he focused his mind and activated the "Raven Message Seeds" that he had quietly sown throughout the bottom of the dream world. As if pressing an invisible switch, the blasphemous gems on the temple wall, which had been emitting a faint light, suddenly dimmed and then flickered with extremely faint, yet cold and orderly dark silver spots!
The swirling, chaotic energy in the air experienced extremely brief "pauses" and "noises" at some crucial points in its flow, almost imperceptible to the native inhabitants of the dream world.
The noise carried the rhythm of time and the cawing of ravens!
Even on the prostrate believers below the platform, the edges of certain distorted features seemed to be swept by a fleeting, cold geometric light and shadow that did not conform to the aesthetic rules of this dream! These subtle changes, insignificant on their own, erupted simultaneously under the guidance of Ian's core awakening incantation, like countless fine needles piercing "Lina's" newly formed cognition!
"Yes, I also referenced The Matrix."
Ian knew it would be incredibly effective.
Because when he draws inspiration from well-known classics.
They've never let us down.
This is not.
"No—that's not right—" The figure on the platform spoke, no longer in that hollow, echoing, oracular tone, but with a dry, trembling hoarseness belonging to a young girl, "I—I am Lina—I am—R'lyeh—Kag—Saru Man—"
The girl was almost fully awake.
all.
It seems to be going very smoothly.