Apocalyptic Forecast

The moon, the original site of the Kepler base.

　　 A messy rescue scene, separated by a pure white temporary oxygen shed.

　　 Inside, where the extreme cold had not dissipated, the investigator took off his helmet, bowed his head, and stared at the eyeless corpse in front of him.

　　 "Is the identity of the deceased confirmed?"

　　 asked the captain directly under the decision-making room from the administrative bureau.

"It has been confirmed with the [Silver Stele] workshop that this corpse is the alchemist Ragnar himself in the workshop." The assistant replied: "According to the on-site restoration and the scholar's investigation, the identity of the murderer has also been ascertained. ...It's William Buckle, the security supervisor at Kepler Base."

　　 "Are there any grudges between the two parties?"

"No, no. Since William came here ten years ago as the security supervisor, he has never quarreled with anyone outside of work. It is recognized as a good temper." The assistant said: "With Ragnar's character, it should be. It’s the right thing to disdain to have conflicts with people on the same base."

　　 "Well, let me guess..."

The captain who hadn't slept for nearly forty-eight hours squatted on the ground, staring into the empty eye sockets of the corpse, and suddenly said: "This William Buckle, before coming to Kepler base, should serve in the Darkside Prison. Ever?"

　　The assistant was taken aback, then looked down at the screen in his hand and called up the file, but part of it was blocked.

　　 Top secret nature.

　　 "You don't need to look at it. Apart from the Darkside Prison, there is only the Sixth Research Institute on this top-secret file on the moon. It is absolutely impossible for the people of the Sixth Research Institute to be outside..."

Captain 　　 rubbed his face: "In my name, send a letter to Darkmian Prison asking about it."

　　In less than five minutes, the exact reply appeared on the assistant's screen.

　　 Just as the captain had guessed, before coming here, William Buckle had indeed served in the Darkside Prison for twelve years.

　　The service area is the first floor of area b.

　　 The detention center of Grand Master Publius!

　　 weird coincidence.

　　 "...This happened, right?"

The captain's eyes were staring at the corpse, but the hollow vision fell into the void, becoming gloomy and scary: "The service personnel of the Darkside Prison will not be allowed to return to the present situation for life, so they can only find jobs on the moon and the border. As a result. Compensation, they will have a well-paid and lofty position in each base and department..."

　　He paused, then turned around and ordered: "Check the whereabouts of the b1 guards over the years after retirement!"

　　 Fifteen minutes later, the report appeared in front of the captain.

Over the past 90 years, a total of 141 guards have resigned from the b1 level. Of these, 34 have voluntarily stayed in Darkside Prison and turned into logistics units. Forty have gone to the border, and the rest have been scattered. Among the major research bases on the moon...

　　 But when I carefully planned it, I discovered that on such a huge moon, among hundreds of institutions, more than eleven people came to this narrow area between the storm ocean and the island sea.

　　 And without exception, in various accidents... swiftly, dying!

　　 "When did the last death begin?" the captain asked.

　　 "Seventy years ago..." the assistant said, "Since then, no transferees have come to the Kepler area until William retired two years ago."

　　 "It happened to be the time when the Helios workshop was docked."

　　 The captain laughed mockingly: "So, help me look at the medical records of Grand Master Pubrius, when did the signs of decay and soul shrinking begin?"

　　 "Nine, ninety-one years ago..."

　　 In the long silence, the captain lit the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and said to himself.

　　 After twenty years.

　　 "Have you been preparing to escape from prison since then, Publius...Sure enough, the Grand Master is the Grand Master, and you can't underestimate any of them."

　　The assistant was stunned: "Isn't Publius dead?"

　　 "Yeah, it's dead, but the problem is... how is a person's death defined, friend." The captain laughed.

　　 He raised his hand and pointed to his forehead: "Is it the destruction of the body or the dissipation of the soul? What does it mean to die just as a body? Isn't there any soul remnants at the scene?"

　　 "Isn't it the erosion of the curse bullet?"

"Let’s leave it alone why someone would rush into the Darkside Prison to kill an old thing that has long been forgotten by the whole world. If, I mean, if there is such a slight possibility... if it’s being killed. Before, his soul was no longer here?"

Captain 　　 raised his pupils, a sudden light flashed behind his eyes: "What if he had escaped from prison before then?"

　　 Yes, escape from prison.

　　Pubulius, the great master of qualitative studies, has done a heroic act that countless people have not been able to accomplish for hundreds of years.

　　 escape from the dark side prison!

　　 Even if it is not for the recent abnormality of the moon monitoring, and the strange events that occurred in the Kepler crater, which has attracted the attention of the Astronomical Society, and then is connected, no one will even be able to find any clues.

　　Only the professional hounds of the Primal Dark Legion can have such a keen sense of smell.

　　 From the seemingly ordinary death, I smell the clues of the abnormality.

　　 "Tony, what do you think?" the captain raised his head and asked.

　　 "I'll sit and watch." The horse-faced man who smoked next to him shrugged: "I'm still on vacation, eldest brother, even if I was dragged to work overtime, should I still be a cheer?"

　　 "At this time, you need to use your ideas to verify it."

　　 The captain got up and suddenly asked: "If you were Great Master Pubrius, how much would you pay for freedom?"

　　 Tony laughed in a low voice, grinning from under the mask, as if empathizing.

　　 can understand the determination that has already surpassed ordinary people.

　　 "Of course it is, at all costs..."

　　 He can determine so.

　　 Even if I am at the price!

　　 Then, the answer is already clear.

　　 Known condition one, the subject that the great master Populis specializes in is the quality of human origin.

　　 Known condition two. Starting from ninety-one years ago, Pubulius’ soul showed signs of collapse due to aging, and the elemental quality dissipated. Until recently, he had lost all the ability to use alchemy before he died.

　　 Known condition three, all the members who retired from the b1 area of ​​the Darkside Prison who came to the vicinity of the Kepler base, all died reasonably due to various reasons.

　　 Known condition four, Publius’s inhuman obsession with miracles, and even the big mistake he has made because of it!

　　 In order to accomplish what purpose, in order to escape here.

　　 He did not hesitate to kill himself.

　　 "It's just, is such a thing possible?" Tony asked, "This is a bit too sensational, right?"

　　 "Don't forget, he is a great master, Tony."

　　 The captain said: "Fifth-level Ascenders may have their limits, but for the Grand Master, as long as you are well prepared... there is nothing impossible, and what about "suicide" in this area?

　　 The only thing that cannot be isolated from the cage is the desire of the soul.

　　 He was thinking.

　　 He kept thinking.

　　 For him, escape here as long as he wants.

　　 The two looked at each other and did not speak, but at the same time they experienced an indescribable chill.

　　 They all understood that in the most stringent guards and blockades in the world, there is no privacy monitoring at all times, just under everyone's eyes, what the man who yearns for freedom has done.

　　 In the countless long nights, I endured unprecedented pain, bit by bit... tore my soul apart.

　　 relied on strands of the dissipated source material, implanting the broken soul bit by bit into the guards close at hand.

　　 In order to avoid triggering the monitoring, the source quality must be extremely thin, hidden in the words, hidden in the thoughts, hidden in his sight.

　　 Relying on the occasional exchange of eyes, the unanswerable confession and the moaning when talking to the doctor.

　　 Cut his own soul into pieces, tear it into pieces, merge it into the souls of other people, and finally combine them to form, allowing them to take away part of their souls.

　　 Once, again, and then again...

　　 Create **** from his own soul, and then extract the essence of freedom from this narrow **** day after day.

　　 So, the source quality gradually became scarce, and the soul gradually collapsed.

　　 Such painful suicides have been repeated for 90 years. How many times have they succeeded and how many times have they failed? Apart from Publius, I am afraid no one knows.

　　 When everyone leaves, they will take part of his body, the remains of his soul.

Just like planting a seed, it grows silently and waits silently until one day, the trustee hears a certain news, sees a certain object, and has an unusual dream. In the end, it is irreversible. The erosion and transformation became part of the Great Master Publius.

　　 "If this is true, he divided his soul into at least eleven. No, if you count William, it should be twelve." Tony sighed, "Is it really possible to achieve such a thing?"

　　 "Don't forget, Tony, he is a great master."

　　 As long as the price can be paid, the omnipotent master...

　　 The captain pinched out the smoke and said softly: "For such an inhuman existence, what is impossible?"

　　 "If this kind of speculation is used to write a report, I am afraid that the master above will not believe it?"

"Who said no?" The captain got up, and finally glanced at the corpse on the ground: "But besides this, what else can be written? After all, it is a possibility... How to verify it, leaving the masters above a headache. Right."

　　 Three hours later, in a separate bedroom in the temporary resettlement base of Kepler Crater, the captain completed his sixth investigation report.

　　 After drinking a small glass of wine, he wrapped a blanket and fell asleep.

　　 snoring sounded.

　　 This report was sent to the world through the satellite between the earth and the moon space, arrived at London extension Watt a minute later, and was transferred to the central decision room · overhead floor.

　　 After the analysis team of more than 600 people received the preliminary trial, they conducted a summary and collection of intelligence, and submitted the third batch of findings and guesses half an hour later.

　　 After passing the verification of the axis mechanism, fifteen minutes later, the report was transferred to a higher level of organization.

　　 An hour later, the meeting ended.

　　 After the video conference, Secretary-General Yegor was wearing pajamas, sitting in the study, smoking a cigarette, and not drinking.

　　 lowered his head and signed the new order.

　　 At the seventh hour, there was an emergency regulatory state on the moon. After all activities were forcibly stopped, everyone went to the thirteen shelters.

　　 At the same time ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ the moon's revolution orbit began to adjust for the fourth time, and under the emergency situation, it was temporarily disconnected from the current gravity.

　　 After adjusting the orbital inclination, the huge stars circulate for a week, undergoing a slight acceleration, and are separated from the orbit by the effect of the gravitational slingshot.

　　 left behind a round of moonlight still hanging above the existing sky.

　　 And in the interlacing of countless star trails, on the back of the eternal dark moon, silver-white dust rose up.

　　In the vacuum, the moon sea burst, and forty-seven circular metal creations with a diameter of six kilometers were sprayed with blue flames and ascended into the universe.

　　 They seem to be penetrated by an invisible axis, extending straight out.

　　 pointed far away in the direction of Jupiter.

　　 Close to the eye of the devil.

　　 At the center of countless concentric circles, under the cracked shell of the moon, a pure metal substance that has been silent for more than sixty years is waiting quietly.

　　The heavy mass cannons with masses comparable to those of medium-sized islands are ready to go.

　　 Waiting quietly.

　　 Waiting for the results of the observation.

　　Waiting for the coming of war——

　　 At the same time, under the aim of the heavy mass cannon, Huaishi struggled in his sleep, feeling a suffocation.

　　 was about to be suffocated to death by the broken dog lying on his face.