Lin Sanjiu looked down. The place where her feet had been was now shrouded in clouds of lead-gray smog. Wisps of fine black particles drifted and swayed like fragments of leaves caught in rippling water.
When she stood still, her entire body was submerged in the thick smog. Even if she raised her arm, she couldn't see her hand, just faint ripples of gray mist spreading out in waves.
She didn't dare move. No one could maintain an accurate sense of direction in this nearly blind environment. She had relied on Mrs. Manas's occasional [Higher Consciousness Scan] to piece together a path forward.
The silence in her mind stretched on for a few seconds. Lin Sanjiu said nothing, and the voice of the brick wall figure didn't speak either. Yet, the ground beneath the smog was far from silent: insects rustled through the plants, something clanged rhythmically in the wind, water dripped and splashed, and in the distance, there was the faint scraping sound of someone dragging their feet.
The depths of the smog, which should have been a dead zone, were far from devoid of life.
Since earlier, "Mrs. Manas" had been urging her to move. Now that she'd stood still for several seconds, "Mrs. Manas" had fallen silent. It was like someone who realized they'd given themselves away and was now holding their breath, waiting for her next move.
What should she do?
What was going on? How could this thing impersonate Mrs. Manas?
For the first time, Lin Sanjiu felt the weight of her arrogance. She had survived barely a decade in the doomsday and thought she could categorize and handle its dangers calmly. But now, venturing into uncharted depths, she realized that compared to the endless anomalies of the apocalyptic world, the posthumans who lived on the surface had seen only a fragment of the whole.
1
"Mrs. Manas...?" she called out.
Until she was sure Mrs. Manas was alright, she didn't dare move forward. She could feel her left foot firmly planted on the ground, toes pointing in the correct direction. As long as she didn't move, she wouldn't lose her way.
There was still no reply in her mind.
Suddenly, Lin Sanjiu swung her hand. This time, she didn't send out an air vortex but the [Tornado Whip] she had been holding back. A small whirlwind roared as it tore through the smog, swirling heavily toward the brick wall. But just before it struck, it loosened its force, dissipating rapidly as if leaping into the sky.
She exhaled in relief. She'd been worried the tornado's power would be too great, and she wouldn't release it in time, causing more trouble by hitting something she shouldn't.
A small tornado cleared the smog far more effectively than an air vortex. For several meters in both directions, the entire brick wall was laid bare before Lin Sanjiu, free of even a wisp of mist for a few seconds.
Why was this brick wall so long? What had it once been used for?
Just as before, the cracks on the wall still formed human figures in various poses—heads tilted back, arms raised, knees lifted high. But one thing had changed.
The figure she had struck earlier with the iron rod, leaving a deep crack that marred its form, was now three meters to her right.
Had the wall moved, or had she?
"Why are you looking at them again?" a thin voice suddenly whispered in her mind, probing carefully. "Didn't I tell you? Staring at the brick figures too long might affect you..."
Just like when it had been repeating the workgroup's conversation, the sentence that should have carried Mrs. Manas's tone of grave concern sounded slippery and oily, as if trying to trick her into belief without even making the effort to fake sincerity.
This thing kept telling her not to look at the brick wall, urging her to keep moving... Why?
Sweat beaded on Lin Sanjiu's forehead. She glanced around and spotted the iron rod she'd thrown earlier, still lying beneath the cracked figure, three meters away from her. РἁNO͍𝐛ĘṠ
She felt dumbfounded.
The brick wall couldn't be trusted, but the iron rod was her own, collected and bundled together, nothing but ordinary metal. The figures were merely cracks; how could they detach from the wall and move the iron rod?
Which meant... it was she who had moved?
"No, I didn't move..." she muttered, her breath hot with anxiety and confusion, dissipating into the smoke that was beginning to close in again.
She couldn't distinguish who was Mrs. Manas, nor who had moved. Everything was a tangled mess, like the smog had invaded her mind, blurring her thoughts. In her panic, she wished her left foot could dig into the ground, anchoring her in place. Her eyes scanned the scene repeatedly, as if trying to peel away a disguise and reveal the truth.
"Don't look at the brick wall anymore, just keep walking..." the voice in her mind whispered softly.
"Keep" walking?
Cold sweat broke out all over Lin Sanjiu's body. She clenched her teeth, refusing to respond, forcing herself to find a thread of logic in her chaotic thoughts.
She remembered that when she threw the iron rod, the figure she hit had its mouth closed. When she looked ahead, the next figure's mouth was open.
According to her theory, when she reached the figure with the open mouth, she should hear the figure repeat the workgroup's conversation. These figures had been following her, and the open-mouthed figure would replay the dialogue. If she had moved, why hadn't she heard the figure's voice?
Not only that, the figure she was now facing also had its mouth open, yet no sound came out. Just before the smoke closed in, she'd taken one last look. The figure's right hand was raised high in front of it, while the left was raised behind, like a shadow puppet.
"I've been meaning to ask you," the voice pretending to be Mrs. Manas said in a coy, almost shy tone, "Have you noticed that your walking posture has gotten really strange?"
Lin Sanjiu couldn't suppress a surge of anger. She sneered and said, "You think I'll fall for that? I know I haven't moved."
The voice hesitated, as if stifling a laugh. If she dispelled the smoke now, would she see the figure on the wall covering its mouth, suppressing its laughter?
The thought of dispelling the smoke made her right hand twitch, and she suddenly realized something.
Her right hand was raised high in front of her, while her left hand was raised behind her—exactly like the figure on the wall, a shadow puppet frozen in motion.