Infinite Nightmares

However, the Third Line members showed no signs of retreating in the face of Zhang Wenda’s warning, even though they all knew he was extremely dangerous at that moment.

After a rapid exchange of hand signals, some of them quickly carried away the small animals near the Youth Palace and began to methodically evacuate the crowd.

Meanwhile, another group raised their flashlights toward Zhang Wenda and began flashing them in a rhythmic pattern.

The Bureau 507 operatives were incredibly proficient. It was obvious they had practiced this countless times.

Under the illumination of various Spectral Techniques, Zhang Wenda’s face flickered from red to blue, fanning the flames of his rage and making it difficult for him to control his body.

The red in the sky above grew unstable, threatening to come crashing down at any moment.

Just as the rage in his heart became almost impossible to suppress, Zhang Wenda slapped himself hard across the face.

His face was now a bloody mess, but he had finally regained some clarity. He snatched the key from between his eyebrows with his right hand and plunged it forcefully into the ground.

As the island reappeared before him, Zhang Wenda, who was on the verge of lashing out, jumped inside without hesitation.

The moment he stumbled and fell onto the island, everything around him finally went quiet. It was all over.

As Zhang Wenda lay on the ground gasping for breath, several pairs of large eyes appeared before him.

It was the Little Black Cats. They looked very hot, having rolled up the fur on their hands and feet to reveal the pink skin underneath.

"Conscious Entity, you’re here? You must be hot, too. Come on, drink some water." A Little Black Cat lifted a bowl made from a nutshell and poured the liquid into Zhang Wenda’s open mouth.

The cool liquid helped the spiraling Zhang Wenda feel a bit better. He sat up again and looked at the island before him, only to find it had completely changed.

Three red suns hung high in the sky, scorching everything on the island. Whether it was the plants—like melatonin, monoamine oxidase, and Serotonin—or the animals, such as the Dopamine, all of them had withered under the intense heat.

The grass and trees were all scorched and wilting, leaning in every direction. Only adrenaline and a few other plants had grown more lush.

’What happened here?’ Zhang Wenda muttered to himself, though he already knew the answer.

"The suns are too big, and it’s scorching hot! None of us can stand being roasted like this," the Little Black Cats chattered all at once.

"The streams have all dried up. We’re so thirsty, and it’s awful."

"The potions we brewed are useless. We’ve tried several different recipes, but no one knows what to do."

Looking at the miserable state of the Little Black Cats, at their folded ears, Zhang Wenda was speechless. He didn’t know what to do about the situation, either.

Zhang Wenda walked silently past the Little Black Cats and headed for the other half of the island.

When he reached the center of the Hippocampus’s maze, he found that it had been affected as well. The pen in its hand was red, and the translucent text it recorded was also completely red.

"Conscious Entity, I know what has happened to you through your memories."

Zhang Wenda bent his knees and slid down to sit with his back against an irregular wall. His voice was heavy. "You were right before. I really didn’t pass the red trial."

"The red trial is too hard. It’s just too hard... way too hard..." Sitting on the floor with his knees bent, Zhang Wenda covered his face with one hand and gave a pained laugh.

The Hippocampus, which had been suspended in mid-air, stopped its work and floated down. "When you deliberately hid the truth, it meant you were not ready. I had already foreseen this."

"However, I did not stop you. I am the Hippocampus; I have no right to interfere with the choices of the Conscious Entity, even if your choice leads us all to a predestined doom."

As it spoke, it raised its three strange heads, looking up through the hole in the roof at the three red suns in the sky.

After gazing for a moment, it lowered its heads to look at Zhang Wenda again. "Conscious Entity, you should not be here. Escaping is useless. You cannot stay here forever."

Dazed, Zhang Wenda lowered his hand and looked at the giant monster before him. "But where can I go? Other than here, I have nowhere else to go. There’s no place for me in the outside world anymore. Only here can my mind feel a little peace, free from the red’s control."

The room fell silent. Neither of them spoke.

After a long silence, Zhang Wenda finally spoke again. "You know me best. Tell me, am I really the same as them? Is it impossible for me to change? Is a monster’s child destined only to become a monster?"

Upon hearing Zhang Wenda’s words, the tip of the pen, which had been gliding swiftly in the Hippocampus’s hand, stopped.

"You are the Conscious Entity; I have no right to make your decisions. I will only ask you one question: even if you are destined to be a monster just like them, what choice will you make?"

Zhang Wenda stared silently at the distorted ground for a long time before snapping his head up. "I refuse to accept this! I refuse to accept that after everything I’ve given, I’m still just their shadow!"

"I don’t want to become a monster like them. I’d rather die than become one of them, wantonly hurting the people who care about me!"

"That is your choice. Remember it." Upon hearing this, the Hippocampus raised its pen and wrote in the air. A palm-sized, translucent sheet of paper floated down before Zhang Wenda.

"All decisions originate from the Conscious Entity. Since you refuse to resign yourself to this, then try searching in this place."

Hearing this, Zhang Wenda’s spirits lifted. He took the ticket and stared at the bizarre, shifting patterns on its surface. "What is this a ticket for?"

"The New Cortex Layer. The subconsciousnesses live there, too. Perhaps you can ask them about certain things."

Zhang Wenda didn’t know if this "new place" would be of any help, but it wasn’t as if he had any better options.

His resolve renewed, he struggled to his feet and, ticket in hand, walked out of the Hippocampus’s maze.

Following the Hippocampus’s directions, Zhang Wenda walked to the farthest end of the island and found an old station platform.

He hadn’t been standing on the platform with the ticket in his hand for long when an old, green train emerged from the nearby woods.

The doors opened, and a simple mannequin made of aluminum cans clattered down from inside. It took the ticket from Zhang Wenda’s hand and punched it.

Looking at its face, which had been cut from the packaging of a drink, Zhang Wenda thought for a moment and suddenly realized that this thing was his own arts and crafts project from first grade. He had made it himself.

After Zhang Wenda took back his ticket, now with a clipped corner, and boarded, the green train let out a CHOO-CHOO and headed toward a tunnel in the distance.

Then, a familiar voice sounded in his ears: "Next stop, the Prefrontal Strait."