Krafft's Anomaly Notes

Someone has said that evening is a time for thinking and being alone, and Yvonne quite agrees with this statement.

The night naturally blocks external disturbances, strips away distracting thoughts, and brings the mind closer to a clean original state, making it easier to focus on the things in front of you.

As strange as it sounds, it felt good to be away from Kraft for a while.Of course, it's not that there is anything wrong with the former. On the contrary, he has always shown considerable concern and even accommodation.

As a doctor, professor, or participant in some unknown affairs, when you need to appear in more than three places at the same time and take into account multiple identities and corresponding responsibilities, it is difficult to imagine that a person can still maintain care and concern for the thoughts of other individuals. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes.

This is undoubtedly good and very good, but it is also very heavy.Depending on each person's perspective and sensitivity, it can be interpreted as closeness, alienation, respect, expectations, or a kind of pressure.

But this does not seem to be a purely psychological effect. Yvonne did feel some kind of pressure, which was particularly obvious when Kraft was in a state of concentration, like stepping into an irregular pool centered on him. What could be better than the breeze? Thicker stuff gives even pressure that doesn't work on the skin.

Judging from other people's reactions, this feeling is probably a special case and not completely real. It is close to seeing a very realistic painting, reading a very detailed and appropriate description of the text, and receiving second-hand information that is conveyed very realistically.

It was accompanied by a nagging low voice, repeating some syllables that might have meaning behind the ears.

Sometimes she felt that she understood something, but when she thought about it carefully, it disappeared like those old dreams that were evaporated by the sun in the morning.

In this relatively quiet night, the sounds behind the ears calmed down for a while, allowing people to open books in peace and study at their own pace.

It would be better if it wasn't so sleepy.

Quietness may not necessarily bring efficiency, but may also bring tiredness.

It has to be said that this trend does exist. Yvonne begins to feel that she is easily tired and slips into haziness without subjective control. The gap between her and Coop further widens, and the gap breeds more anxiety and pressure.

Self-doubt grows on this fertile ground. The physical changes have not yet opened a breakthrough point for the status quo, but some questionable side effects have begun to appear.

Being excluded once again further catalyzed the growth of negative perceptions, even if it was known that this soft dissuasion was well-intentioned.

The wax oil melted and deformed like a handful of hope a month ago, and finally collapsed into a ball.When the last knuckle-length candle wick began to carbonize, Yvonne suddenly realized that he had only seen less than half of the progress in the middle of the night. The drunkard in the tavern diagonally opposite was already humming a bubbling tune and getting ready to leave.

【I do not understand】

She carried the copper candlestick to the bedside and blew out the remaining light, feeling sorry for the candle that wasted her life in vain.

With a sense of exhaustion and nothingness, my body got into the quilt and prepared for tomorrow.

However, the consciousness has not yet completely rested. Yvonne feels that a part of herself is still active, shrinking like a cramped muscle, as if it does not fully belong to this body.

But it is still part of the whole, it cannot get rid of, and it will never end.Perhaps the feeling of exhaustion comes from this endless internal friction.

I'm mentally exhausted, but it's probably still a while before I fall asleep.

The low and fine chattering came to the ear again, and short legs like bugs in the hay mattress sprouted, crawling itchingly.

The short, unfamiliar pronunciation points in the ear canal and throat, narrating a bleak, cold and bizarre content. The consciousness steps on the surface of the colorless dream with bare feet, peering through the glass at a memory with no blind spots.

She ran along some avenues and paths made of fine silk threads and dust. Those roads were extended and woven, stretching into the distance according to her will.

It's like swimming in water, no, it's more free than that. It's getting rid of the shackles of solidification and roaming in a certain essential form. It can be integrated into any form and become any form through ubiquitous media.

It is the freest consciousness in its own kingdom. Even if sometimes some forms enter its kingdom, that doesn't matter. These forms will soon become part of the kingdom.It is no surprise that without consciousness one would be dissatisfied with this kind of life.

Until a crack opened in the kingdom, revealing something that had never been seen before, and therefore never imagined - a rich and colorful world.

So when that rift extended the invitation, she accepted without hesitation.

Jumping into it, she felt the solid form, heavy and concrete. Her eyes were pitch black, and her hands and feet were wrapped in quilts. Everything was the same as before she fell asleep, and it seemed that everything had quietly changed.

But the sober exhaustion remains unchanged.

Yvonne woke up sleepily. The low sound in her ears had disappeared and was replaced by strange sounds outside.

It's a bit like someone coming back to their room after a late night stay, but there are no protracted steps, and there is no subsequent sound of washing and resting.

A low-key whistle sounded through the cracks in the unclosed window, penetrating the night and conveying some meaning unknown to outsiders.

The hurried steps upstairs and shouting made things develop in an unexpected direction. They were sounds I had never heard in the clinic.Yvonne chose to light a candle on the candlestick, cover the light with her hands, and wait for the change.

She was still in chaos, with fragmented dream remnants and fatigue taking turns impacting the reservation of consciousness.

Soon, the sounds became louder, the harsh turning of the old door shafts, the running, jumping and banging.When the heavy object fell and the loud sound of broken wood came, it was finally hard to hold it back.

Manipulating her body like a puppet, Yvonne put on her boots and got out of bed, picked up the candlestick and opened the door.

Two unimpressive figures were fighting in the corridor.It may not be appropriate to say that one side has the absolute upper hand.

The sudden appearance of the light source briefly paused the action. The slender back of the arms twisted half a circle, the neck and body were unusually flexible, and the face was exposed to the light as the cover fell.

Yvonne's angle gave her a clearer view of that face than the man on the ground holding the intruder's legs and shouting something.

The pale, moist skin sticks to the asymmetrically deformed bones, creating a malicious expression that contains cruelty and satisfaction, perhaps an approximation of a smile.Waiting for the collapse of the one who is looking at it, and drawing from it something that the twisted soul is happy to see.

He didn't get the reaction he expected, only a pair of tired, unfocused eyes and incomprehensible movements.

Perhaps out of reflex action, the girl threw the light source in her hand towards him.

The flame went out before it was thrown, and the dark brown metal reflection flickered for less than a blink of an eye, revealing the identity of the object.

A multi-branch candlestick made of pure copper, heavy and expensive, usually used as a fixed ornament.

It disappeared into the returning darkness and lost its track in the field of vision. The roaring wind reminded that something was approaching quickly, but its thoughts and actions were still at the stage of "can be easily brushed away".

A moment stretched out in consciousness.First, the outstretched hand touched something, but it was empty. It passed between the intercepting palms, as if there was no object there.

The ribcage flailed and softened, breathing was forcibly stopped and could not be restarted.

The part of the body blocked on a path lost sensory feedback, and its function and sense of existence disappeared. Severe pain immediately filled the gap, and the irresistible force briefly lifted the feet from the ground and fell heavily.