musicians of old

The next moment, Fan Ning felt that he was completely dissolved and stirred into a huge, thick and chaotic palette.

The perception of time was dragged out for a long time, and there was phosphorescent water vapor everywhere, jumping with strange colors, like openings in a dark cave.

He twisted with thousands of rainbows, was squeezed into one of the openings, and was slowly refined from the end of the telescope
During the whole process of dreaming, there was only a slightly clear fragment of experience in Fan Ning's consciousness - it should have nothing to do with the last time he entered the lighthouse, but grafted from another chaotic time and space - he was thinking hard about something, I kept thinking that my eyelids started to tremble again.

"Let me rest for a while."

Fan Ning put down his pen and unscrewed the glass bottle next to him. A stench similar to the entrails of an animal wafted out.

He scooped out the asphalt-like substance with an unreadable color with a small spoon and swallowed it in one bite.

The fishy and greasy meaty feeling adhered to the esophagus, constantly spreading and stirring the flesh and blood. However, Fan Ning had become desensitized to this feeling. There was a feeling of retching in the bottom of his stomach, but he made no sound and did not actually vomit. out.

"You can probably sleep for 45 minutes, and I will wake you up." This was Joan's voice next to her.

Consciousness once again fell into a fragmented floating state.

Until Fan Ning opened his eyes again from the rocky ground, he saw that the sky outside the cave was in a flowing color that was both bright and turbid at the same time, and there were dense crescent moons floating in it.

Those cracked and uneven gaps are like eyeballs staring at me.

Fan Ning suddenly withdrew his few remaining spiritual senses and stopped snooping around the outside world. Only then did he realize that the entrance to the cave was still blocked by a black curtain.

"Caron, are you awake? You only slept for 28 minutes, and I haven't called you yet."

The girl in a colorful dress walked up to Fan Ning and stretched out her hand to pull him up.

"After adapting to this fragmented sleep, I don't sleep for long."

Fan Ning rubbed his groggy head with his other hand, feeling that there were many temporarily obscured memories in his mind that had not been mobilized.

"By the way, where did I write before going to bed?"

"The end of the first movement."

Joan held up the sheet music on the stone table and turned it to the point where the density of the notes became loose.

After Fan Ning took it, although he was not ready to continue writing immediately, he still subconsciously continued to think along the musical phrase where the handwriting stopped.

"Whoa-"

Lesi spontaneously opened the floodgates to release the flood, flowing into a colorful ocean.

"I've been to the lighthouse, twice." Fan Ning said immediately.

"Once we set off at 25:27, and once at [-]:[-]."

"You were there the second time. We talked about "Song of the Sea Species" and the lost famous piano 'Star Track', and saw tombstones without inscriptions. During the flight to the lighthouse, your flute also appeared to absorb those The phenomenon of weird 'instruments'"

He recounted it concisely and concisely.

At the same time, the black ink soaked into the texture of the unfolded music paper, branching out like capillaries and expanding from point to point. The notes of the first three movements suddenly appeared on the score.

Qiong's eyes stared at him, then lowered her head to read the music, the various colors flashing in her pupils dimmed slightly.

"I remember."

She also quickly recovered her memory and cognition when she was lost.

"Tick tick. Tick tick."

The singing of "White Mass" from the outside world reappeared, and both of them looked at the hands of the pocket watches on their wrists.

Again they start reading from the 25th hour.

This time, Fan Ning saw the melting of his eyeballs and the melting of colors in advance.

Buckets, guns, haystacks, folding tables, wall lamps on rocks. Everything in sight has been melted away by the colors, forming a mixed and squeezed fluid, flashing with indescribable, bright but dirty colors. light.

Fan Ning felt that the molecules in his body, which had become chaotic and hot, had collapsed and compressed, and some of them had exceeded the limit of the support relationship they could maintain. They had spread and embedded themselves into the rocks under their feet and around them, bringing them with them. Take away the corresponding part of your own life characteristics.

On the contrary, some things belonging to the outside world have penetrated in and replaced the composition of the self. The boundaries between the two are becoming blurred, and one's own main perspective is becoming increasingly blurred.

"Let's discuss what to do this time." Qiong held one side of her head and tangled her hair into the gap with her fingers. "We must find the right path tonight, otherwise it doesn't matter if we stay here, it will be the wrong choice to start." Well, we will eventually become like them.”

"Them?" Fan Ning finally turned around and looked. The other team members collapsed in a ball on the ground, their flesh and blood fused together in an incredible state. Bishop Tukweil's abdomen was stretched, with several sticky holes made of copper pipes, and Ivan's head passed through it. One sticks out, and the skin becomes the texture of a drum head. Andrew stirs into an egg liquid-like mass in the symbiotic stew cauldron. On the other side, a dozen arms, legs and feet covered with mucous membranes are messy and twisted. The ground opened up like a centipede with many legs in the air.

"Lavoisier, is there something wrong with our faces?"

"When we leave later, let's move together. It's too dangerous to be separated."

Two unidentifiable voices came from the mass of flesh mixed with mucus and bloodshot eyes.

Fan Ning frowned. He didn't know what kind of mental state these "two people" were in when they said these words.

Judging from the calm tone and content, it seems that they are not aware of their current situation?

"There may be one last choice." Joan spoke again, "So, at which point of loss do you think you should enter B-105?"

Fan Ning fell into silent thinking.

Time passed by minute by second, and before I knew it, the 25:27 and 26:[-] had passed away, together with the [-]:[-] in between.

Qiong spoke several times, often after long intervals, while discussing countermeasures, but Fan Ning never responded.

"According to the preliminary information you provided, plus the inferences from the previous two encounters, as long as you go out when you are lost, the area you have entered in these 11 hours is B-105, and you should be able to reach the lighthouse."

"Just to open the road, we must pay tribute to the corresponding 'symbolic memory' in the 11 fragments of the music series, that is, the musical works in a certain unknown secret history. The Special Inspection Office has no way of knowing it. Therefore, the previous exploration, They didn’t find what was really in the lighthouse, and you knew it, so you could open the way?”

"That's right." Fan Ning nodded this time, "But Mr. F also knows and can express these memories and open the way."

"This resulted in us always being caught up by him. Even though my dad had some kind of backhand that made him miss twice in a row, our state couldn't withstand repetitions and it was impossible to complete the 11 lost games. We will explore them one by one to see if there are any other variables. In fact, more than five hours have passed now. If the right choice was made first, it is likely that we have missed it."

"Why does Mr. F know?" It seemed that Joan was still very confused about this.

"Because he's Scriabin," Fanning said.

"Scriabin? Isn't this the original name of Mr. Wax, the secret historian and helminthologist of the Special Inspectorate? He was the member of the School of Guidance who had an abnormal lifespan more than 400 years ago."

"It's just a surname, a different first name. Duplicate names are not uncommon. In short, it is difficult to explain clearly at the moment. This unknown secret history is called 'History 0' in Mr. F's mouth. For 'History 0', he He has the same knowledge or experience as me, and his level of knowledge is better than mine, so he knows everything I know."

"You mean, he understands everything you understand about the metaphorical information behind the 11 audio fragments?"

Fan Ning said "Yeah": "If not for this, he would not have been able to design the weird art museum light mechanism in 'Watznay Town'."

Qiong nodded thoughtfully, and frowned: "All the words really make it difficult to start. Could it be that the back-up plan Uncle Vincent left behind was just a man who would 'god' when Mr. F was present?" The theme 'hidden means? This does not change our passive situation'

"all"

Fan Ning tried his best to sort out several important nodes of his past experience, and time began to pass by again.

Suddenly at a certain moment, his whole body felt excited.

"uncertain."

In his previous life, Scriabin was indeed just like himself, knowing the works of previous composers very well.

But what if he did die in 1915 in that world, halfway through the conception of "Secret Realm of Apocalypse"?
What about the musicians and musical works that came out after his death?
In the process of designing the sound series fragments based on the Lost Time, did Vincent reserve such an "exceptional" piece?

When he realized this, Fan Ning already had the answer in an instant.

"Later, when you returned to the Weird Art Museum in Vatznay Town, did you find the remains of the 'Hidden Light' on the 8th floor?"

"Yes, the floor numbers start from the top to the second floor, which is actually 7F. At that time, all the electric lights have been restored. Why do you ask this?"

Then there will be no mistake. No. 7, in the key of E flat major, corresponds to the 25th, 26th, 27th and 31st hours of the Lost Time!
Fan Ning raised his right arm while counting in his mind.

It just so happens that there are only the last ten seconds left in the 30th hour!
"At the next loss, we enter B-105." He said firmly.

"31 o'clock? Why?" Joan asked subconsciously, "What is the memory symbol corresponding to this passage? Whose work is it?"

"The work that Mr. F doesn't have information about yet, the Ninth Symphony by a master composer." Fan Ning strode to the opening of the cave, and the tip of his nose was close to the black leather curtain.

He read out the initials of the former Soviet composer master, which was also a famous motive derived by the latter -

"DSCH." (Shostakovich)