Fabricating Weird Myths, Starting From American Comics

It started to rain.

The heavy rain was like a hole in the sky.

It's like drowning the whole world.

Gwen was happily riding in the car.

Father George was thanking God.

Not Mutant, not Super Ability Awakening.

Gwen's mother is still an ordinary person.

But he escaped from the shadow of Death God.

The fatal injury that modern medicine could not treat was miraculously healed.

George didn't know what he should be grateful for except God and miracles.

This can only be a miracle.

"It is indeed a miracle, but it is not God, but the great Lord, the nameless fog!"

Gwen thought in her heart,

"I swear to the Great Lord that I will proclaim His name, but how do I do that?"

Although the Nameless Mist did not accept the conditions proposed by Gwen, now that his mother has recovered.

Then Gwen must fulfill her promise.

“What I have done may seem insignificant to the Great Lord, the Nameless Mist.

It doesn't matter to Him whether I have it or not, but since I have promised the Nameless Lord, I must fulfill my promise. "

But preaching was something that was difficult for Gwen, who was still in high school.

It's just too difficult.

"My parents will definitely not believe what I say. I should tell my peers."

Gwen pondered her missionary plans.

But when everyone preaches, they will show the miracles of the gods they believe in.

But the Nameless Mist did not give itself any means of preaching.

"No, my Lord has given me a miracle, that is, my mother survived from a serious injury that was impossible to treat."

Gwen's name has been changed. When she called the Nameless Mist before, she just called him by his name.

Or call Him the Great Lord.

Now Gwen's name for the Nameless Mist is even more affectionate.

I will directly call the nameless fog my lord.

"God does not need a pope, he needs a practitioner."

Gwen has secretly made up her mind that she will start to spread the name of the Nameless Mist.

Repay the kindness of the Nameless Mist in your own way.

"Great Lord, Nameless Mist, I will proclaim your name, and may you bless my family."

Gwen prayed silently...

"It's raining, so the bus seems to be leaving early.

Should we catch up with him? "Hawkeye spoke.

"Get in the car, we don't have time to wait." Captain America frowned.

"If the only way to get to Innsmouth is to take that bus and we miss that bus, we'll have to wait another day."

Hill felt increasingly uneasy, but she couldn't think of any reason to refute.

"Stark, don't we need to wait for him?"

"I'm afraid it's too late. We have to bite the bullet first. Let's go!"

Captain America put his shield in his backpack and walked towards the strange bus from Innsmouth.

He frowned.

“The way this bus appeared is so bizarre, but what’s even more terrifying are the people in this town.

None of them seemed to have noticed anything unusual. They were used to the Innsmouth bus appearing at the town bus station at four o'clock every afternoon.

Could it be that the entire town has been affected by Innsmouth? "

Things are far more dangerous than you think.

What’s even more frightening is that this terrifying haze has been shrouded here for unknown length of time.

The three of them got on the bus calmly.

The Innsmouth people on the bus were not as xenophobic as those in the town described them to be.

It seems to be commonplace.

"Maybe we can ask them if they've seen Natasha Romanoff?" Hawkeye asked in a low voice.

Captain America immediately shook his head and said: "It's better not to do it. The strange looks of these people may be inextricably linked to those terrifying extraterrestrial visitors. Don't expose our intentions."

"Okay." Hawkeye nodded, looked at Hill who was restless and said,

"Hill, what's wrong with you? I feel like you've been very uneasy since you entered that town."

"I have a gut feeling that we shouldn't be here." Hill said nervously.

"This place is very dangerous."

"We definitely know this, there is no mission that is not dangerous." Hawkeye smiled,

"Director, you should relax a little."

Hill nodded, a little perfunctorily.

Hawkeye didn't take it seriously, thinking Hill was thinking of some horror movies.

Hill looked nervously at the scenery outside the car window. The car was eerily quiet.

The weird Innsmouth man driving the bus hummed an incomprehensible and terrifying ditty.

Amid this eerie and terrifying sound, the car stopped.

"How long have we been gone?" Captain America asked.

Hawkeye checked his watch: "The car ran for one hour and thirty-five minutes without stopping anywhere in the middle."

At this time, Hill suddenly asked: "Tell me, where is the erased terminal?

Is the place where this car once arrived, the city in the sea...R'lyeh? "

Captain America was silent for a while and then said: "I'm afraid we can only get the answer in Innsmouth."

The car had stopped and the three people did not stay in the car.

"The owner of the grocery store said he recommended a place for Natasha Romanoff to stay.

Natasha Romanoff should live there. Let's go there first and have a look. Maybe we can find something. "

"Um."

Captain America walked on the street and watched the weird Innsmouth people passing by.

This small town called Innsmouth is more like a fishing village.

The streets are lifeless and full of damaged public facilities that have not been properly maintained.

And those Innsmouth people turned a blind eye to this, as if they hadn't seen it.

Among these dilapidated buildings, the most eye-catching is the cathedral standing in the center of Innsmouth.

"The grocery store owner said that the religion practiced here is a weird sect that I have never heard of.

But the inheritance of this sect seems to be very ancient, possibly even older than the current three major religions. "

Captain America told Hawkeye and Hill all the information he learned from the grocery store owner.

The three of them talked as they walked and arrived at another location in the city.

Compared to other buildings in the city, this tavern is obviously better.

But it's just a little better.

The sign on the tavern has been eroded and rusted by the sea breeze.

It can only be roughly identified by the handwriting.

The neon lights on the sign have long been damaged and are now just decorations hanging on them.

The three of them pushed open the door and entered.

The bartender who was wiping the wine glasses looked at the three people in confusion: "It's weird, why are there so many outsiders this year."

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