musicians of old

"okay."

Fan Ning rubbed his forehead with his hands, stood up and looked into the distance.

It was a gloomy afternoon with cool temperatures, thick clouds, wide peripheral vision, and weak rays from the sun.

At the entrance of the dilapidated barracks, the cleared space, iron pots and firewood were set up
The other six team members were busy cooking, studying maps, and repairing vehicles.
The feeling of time is long and broad, with many drowsy experiences crammed into it.

"Kacha - Kacha - Kacha -"

Fan Ning's leather boots ran over the yellow and brittle branches and leaves on the ground. He walked to the edge of the mountainside and looked at the rolling and colorful mountains, rivers and forests.

In the flowing "soap film" that occupies nearly half of the field of view, the magnificent scenery constantly collapses, melts, solidifies and reorganizes, just like human tissues that are constantly damaged and restored - they can always return to their previous appearance, always immature. , unfamiliar, and with subtle errors.

"It does spread in the eye, just like the zone of aberration itself spreads in the world."

Fan Ning was thinking about this in his mind, took out his cell phone that he forgot to turn off, raised his hand to take pictures, and wanted to see what they looked like in the lens.

I was also confused because of the repeated landscape photos with collapsed colors in the photo album.

Far more than the usual lingering doubts.

"Lavoisier, you can eat now," the team members shouted.

Fan Ning put away the phone without saying a word.

There was a slight crackling sound in the distance, the banyan tree slowly fell, and the crows returned to the sunset.

When we returned to the entrance of the camp, there was a strong fragrance.

"What did you do tonight?" Fan Ning asked.

"Stew," Jacob replied.

The team members chatted for a while about the journey, terrain, and information about the Divine Advent Society. During this period, Fan Ning was checking the few remaining food reserves.

Jacob picked up the army drinking cup, raised his spoon, and began to distribute the stew.

"Wait a minute."

Fan Ning suddenly turned around from the trunk of the car, just like standing on the podium in the past, waving his hands in the air.

The speed and intensity with which he invoked the invisible power was fast and resolute. The wrists of all the team members were violently tugged, and the soup sloshed all over their bodies, burning several people to the point of blowing their breath.

"Is there something wrong with this soup?"

As the vice-captain and the Seeker, Tukweil naturally does not need to rely on additional redundant explanations when understanding the meaning.

"There seems to be something wrong." Jacob frowned and stared at the boiling soup pot, "With this reminder, when I look at the edges of the bubbles in the soup, I always feel that it has a vague green texture? Could it be that this is coming from here? Are the deer deer polluted? Isn’t that how they hunted and ate the past few days? It’s strange, I was busy for so long just now, why didn’t I notice it?”

At the end of his speech, he muttered and raised his hand.

"Huh!—"

A pot of hot and fragrant broth was poured directly onto a gravel floor, causing a large mist to evaporate.

After experiencing such an inexplicable episode, although everyone was hungry, they did not dare to eat randomly for the time being. They sat bored at the door of the barracks, nibbling the few dry food noodles.

Dusk fell suddenly with an uneven amplitude.

After preliminary discussions on how to find the "lighthouse", everyone took a break and took a break. Several abandoned lanterns were lit, and there was no other sound except the buzzing of small groups of flying insects.

21 o'clock at night, 22 o'clock at night, 23 o'clock at night. Time passes minute by minute.In a quiet environment of relative solitude, Fan Ning looked confused and suspicious. He sat in front of the wooden table for a long time before slowly opening his "Fourth Symphony" score book.

The current creative progress is in the development of the first movement.

But this time, when Fan Ning's eyes scanned his handwriting, all the subsequent developments, turns and summaries unfolded in his mind almost instantly, with an unobstructed degree, just like the arrows cutting through the night sky. Lightning, the shock wave of a violent explosion, or the light that instantly fills a dark house when a light is turned on!

He tried writing a few sections further down.

"boom."

The music book was closed.

"I finally know why the creation progress this time, last time, and last time has been faster and faster, almost beyond the normal."

"Where is this creation? You are clearly 'copying' something you have already written!"

In the confused realizations again and again, Fan Ning finally realized that something was wrong because of the reminders he left!
"In a sense, I'm spinning around in a chaotic layer of time and space, returning to the same starting point many times!?"

"This seems to be different from a 'cycle'. It may be more accurate to regard it as a 'reset'. The series of events that occur each time are not exactly the same, and will be different from each other due to the subtle thoughts of each party. Random perturbations produce different results.”

In fact, if it is under normal external conditions, there are many pictures of the same collapsed scenery in the mobile phone album, and the violin has been tuned up a whole tone in advance. All kinds of clues are enough for a spiritually powerful Seeker to react. In addition, The priests should also have suspicions, but after staying in the abnormal zone for a long time, the confusion and dullness of the mind made it extremely difficult to realize this.

Fortunately, this kind of composition process is completely different from the investigation record in the usual sense. It does not involve language or text, and the carrier cannot be completely regarded as paper. The abnormal zone cannot distort its meaning, nor can it erase the legacy it leaves in spirituality. Unconventional traces.

Fan Ning finally realized something was wrong, but he didn't feel happy or relaxed at the moment. On the contrary, his expression became more serious.

"Even if the memory of these repeated investigations is restored now, the recollection is still very confusing, very confusing, impossible to sort out, and lacks recognition."

He couldn't estimate at all how long the normal time in the outside world had passed.

I can’t even count how many times I have been “reset”.

The details of each experience are different, but the general framework is similar, so that the confusion of identification feels like trying to sort all the hair on a horse according to color, size, thickness and other factors. Same.
Each time, after being involved in a more twisted mirror image of the secret history, I was lucky enough to "survive" by some means, or temporarily "get rid of" those "worms".But every time, the colorful "soap film" in my eyes continues to encroach on more of my field of vision, and now it's half of it.

At present, when it comes to music, he can still eliminate distractions and do it without distraction, but Fan Ning feels that his cognitive, thinking and mystical analysis abilities have been like a ball of paste from time to time.

"We must jump out of this spinning track as soon as possible and make the journey a substantial step forward. We cannot do it again."

You don’t have to wait until the colorful colors completely occupy your eyes. Maybe after [-]% or [-]%, the delicate balance will completely tip to one side, and the self-awareness will no longer know what it is doing.Or, if something goes wrong in a certain action and interacts directly with a previous "self", there will be even more unacceptable consequences such as being copied!
"Although these experiences are chaotic and different, the commonality of the termination stage is still obvious, that is, before and after arriving in the B-105 area." Fan Ning frowned and looked at the chart under the dim light.

At present, he may have entered, or he may have barely arrived. Since the information is not detailed, he cannot judge where the boundary is, or even whether B-105 has a clear boundary.

It is just one of the collective names of the Special Patrol Office's serial numbers for previous exploration records.

"Crack clap-"

The sound of leather shoes crushing dead branches and leaves was heard, and several team members hurriedly stepped in front of Fan Ning.

"Lavoisier, did you hear that someone was singing outside?" Jacob asked.

Fan Ning did not stand up this time, but opened his sleeves and glanced at the mechanical watch on his wrist:

"Well, it's almost time."

"Almost there?" Several people imitated his movements in confusion.

Beside the ears, a series of mysterious chords with bright lights began to strike repeatedly, and the fragrant plea for sensory bliss was accompanied by the eerie bass again.

To the music of Scriabin's "White Mass", the hour hand once again moved towards the last few seconds of 23:59.