Edge of the Apocalypse

The darkness is like tide, wind, and fog. It is invisible and intangible, but it has a strong sense of existence, and that invisible sense of oppression fills the space.

Milo was still sitting there, and said lightly: "Stop playing with these pretending things for me. Either come out or get out of it."

"I'm so tempered, I deserve to be the soul of the previous generation." There was a voice in the darkness, and then the darkness began to gather, becoming a human shape, and finally a black-haired and black-clothed man walked towards Milo. He has the same appearance as Ellen, but his hair and pupils are so dark that he despairs, but his skin is strangely pale.

Such a person just sat on the wooden pier where Allen had just sat down.

Blackware.

Milo smiled and said: "I know you, little guy. Although you are also an artifact, you should respect me anyway, I am much older than you."

"How old is it?" The black weapon sniffed, "Who has the big fist, who has the right to speak. Understand, old fellow."

Milo shrugged and said, "I know what you want to do, little guy."

"Oh? That's too interesting. I don't even know what I'm going to do. Do you, an old fellow, know me better than me?" The black tool hooked his finger: "Let's listen."

"You voluntarily split your consciousness, leaving the secondary will in the source to ensure that the source can be used, while the main will resides in Allen's consciousness, isn't that?"

"So what?" The black weapon asked rhetorically.

"If it is, it will be easy." Milo's face became colder: "As usual, your will should disappear now. But now you not only still exist, but you can enter me by yourself without my invitation. In addition to the great momentum you just made, it seems that instead of weakening, you are getting stronger and stronger. I guess you are improving yourself by drawing on Alan’s mental power?"

The black weapon applauded: "Old guy, you really have some knowledge."

"So I will continue to guess that your purpose is nothing more than to grow strong enough to obliterate Alan's will and seize his body, so as to surpass the structure of the soul."

"It's horrible, let you guess what you want."

Milo said coldly: "When you entered my world, you discovered Alan's consciousness. You want to take the opportunity to obliterate his consciousness. It's a pity that I found out when you came. After all, this is my world."

"Yes, so for the convenience of the next time, you will die for me." The black weapon suddenly slapped on the table, the wooden table was divided into two, and a dark war knife stabbed from under the table. The black weapon flicked at the blade's edge, and the war knife slashed towards Miro. At the same time, he leaped up, squeezed both hands, and slammed down, pulling out two black thunders and blasting towards Milo.

Milo didn't rush, opened his mouth and sprayed a white light on the sword, and the sword that had been transformed by the black will immediately fell apart. At the same time, he had a meal with his feet, and even the people moved back with the wooden pier, causing two black weapons to blast on the ground. The ground did not explode, but collapsed downwards, forming an abyss without knowing where to lead.

The black weapon stood imaginarily above the abyss, holding both hands imaginarily, and a dark sword in his hand. The style of the sword is exactly the hymn of destruction.

Milo smiled.

"Are you scared, old guy?" Heiqi said blankly.

Milo stretched out his hand and flicked: "If your hand is not an anthem of destruction but an anthem of ashes, then I really have to think about how to deal with you. Unfortunately, what you can copy now is only an anthem of destruction. Obviously you haven't Grow up enough to control the hymn of the ashes. There is no need to worry about destroying you, but just raising your finger."

"Really? Then let me see it!" The black weapon paused, dragging the saber toward Miro.

There was a sudden thunder in the air.

The black weapon raised his head, and his dark pupils shrank slightly.

A sword fell from the sky.

Da Ruo Mountain Peak.

It sinks slowly, unstoppable.

Baidi sword!

At the end of the sword, the sound of a big sword breaking through the air is like thunder rushing. There was a struggling expression on the black weapon's face, and finally shouted, stopped his figure, and then the figure disappeared into the air like a bubble.

He left Miró's world of consciousness.

The priest raised his hand, and the Baidi sword in the midair disappeared suddenly. Flicking his hands again, the table cut by the black weapon, the displaced wooden pier, and the deep abyss were completely restored. Milo walked under the tree, picked an apple, put it in his mouth, and looked very hesitant.

Finally shrugged and said to himself: "Forget it, if you need it, you can erase that guy at any time. It's okay to leave him with an object to sharpen your will, but you have to find a chance to remind him. "

"I hope he can survive this time."

This is a black world.

Black earth, black mountains, rushing Heihe, black trees all over the mountains, and a black city. This world is so lonely, deep ~www.readwn.com~ and even desperate.

It is lifeless, as if hovering on the edge of destruction, sliding into the abyss of immortality at any time. Perhaps one day, it will be fragmented and returned to nothingness.

Fortunately not now.

So a ray of light passed between the clouds and fell on the ground, in the center of the black city. It is a light that is darker than darkness, a light that is deeper than despair, that is a black weapon.

This is the world of black weapons.

Contrary to Miluo's light and windy world, the world of black weapons is as deep as his heart, without any light in sight.

The hustle and bustle was full, and the black weapon stood up, looking at this black city, he suddenly yelled. The long knife in his hand swept around, so the city's buildings fell around him centered on him.

The sound of the black weapon was so loud that it spread out of the city and could be heard from thousands of miles away.

But because of the loud voice, it spreads far away, which brings out the loneliness of this world. The black weapon released the knife and sat back. There was nothing in the back, and a throne rose from the ground just to hold the black weapon.

The black weapon is like a lonely king, with one hand on the armrest, supporting his chin.

He waved his hand, and the buildings he had cut back were restored. Waved again, people began to come out from the buildings. Men and women, old people and children, they are no different from human beings. But without exception, their hair is dark, their skin is dark, their eyes are dark, and their clothes are in a mess. These are not so much people as they are shadows that move around.

The shadow moved around, busy like a real person. But whether it is a blacksmith who beats and beats, a hawker who walks down the street, or a child who kicks the ball. They didn't make any sound, and they shuttled around the black weapon silently.

Not only does the black weapon feel less fun, it feels even more lonely.

A lonely world, a lonely city.

Imprisoned an equally lonely soul.