Deep Sea Embers

But all of these are incomparable to the depression caused by the increasingly strong sense of disobedience and tension, and the dizziness caused by the gradual tearing of the mind.

Belazov controlled his steps, controlled his expression.

The closer he got to the deepest part of the Petrel, the more steady he became, his expression as calm as ever.

Some crew members stopped and talked in the corridor. They were wearing weird leather... "coats", the skin folds on their faces were stacked, and their voices sounded like buzzing noises.

Belazov walked toward them. His mind told him that these crew members were his own soldiers, but he could not recall their names.

"General?" A soldier came forward and looked at Belazov curiously, "What are your orders?"

"Just came to check on the situation in the mechanical cabin," Belazov responded to the unfamiliar soldier with a calm expression, "stay at your post."

The soldier stared at him, then saluted and backed away: "Yes, General."

Belazov walked through the middle of these people, walking steadily as usual. He could feel that the soldiers' eyes stayed on him for a while, but then quickly moved away.

But suddenly, the mechanic's lips moved a few times.

This even brought about some terrible rumors - some people often said that they saw pale lights floating over the fence in the cemetery after dark, and this was the soul of the caretaker who had long since left the body. Some people also said that this scary old man He will lie down in a coffin at midnight, stop breathing along with the dead, and wake up when the sun rises the next day.

He locked the door of the captain's cabin, went to the safe next to the desk, and began to turn the combination lock disk. Amidst the clear and sweet click sound, his fingers became paler with exertion.

He guards the cemetery and the city outside the cemetery.

He raised his head again and looked at the running steam engines and the hissing pipe system.

Belazov raised his head and glanced at the mechanic.

The road leading to the cemetery is deep and quiet, with few passers-by, but even so, residents living in nearby neighborhoods often pass by this path.

These weird and horrifying rumors surround the cemetery and the caretaker, but the lonely and eccentric caretaker never seems to care about it - in fact, he hardly interacts with the nearby residents, except for occasionally going out to buy some daily necessities like today. Apart from that, he spent most of his time living in the caretaker's cabin in the cemetery, and the only people he interacted with on weekdays were the church's bearers.

The knocking on the door was a little more urgent than before.

The old man raised his head, looked at the cemetery gate, and suddenly stopped.

"The pastor cannot be trusted...the situation is out of control...Process No. 22."

Belazov frowned slightly and read a few words from the mechanic's lips. Today's situation seems a bit special.

The gas escaping from the steam pipes was red in color, and the edges of the slowly rotating gears were blurred and twisted. It seemed that something was parasitic in this huge machine, replacing the original sacred steam with its kind-hearted soul.

"General, are you inside? We received instructions from Frost..."

The machine was running very cheerfully, even...happy to the point of being a little fanatical.

The hiss from the steam pipes seemed to be mixed with vague whispers.

They didn't like the guard, but they instinctively had a little fear. This was not only because of the eerie atmosphere of the cemetery itself, but also because of the old man's withdrawn and indifferent character - even if he looked at the entire cemetery area, it was the same as the others. Compared to the more or less indifferent caretakers, the old caretaker of Cemetery No. 3 can be regarded as the most intimidating one among them.

Belazov stretched out his hand towards the button, and almost at the same time, he heard a knock on the door: "General, are you inside? We received a message from Han

Frost’s instructions require you to handle them personally. "

It was the adjutant's voice.

Belazov suddenly felt a trace of hesitation in his heart: "You bastard heretic!"

At the same time, in Frost City, far away from Cemetery No. 3, an old guard wearing a dark coat and a slightly stooped back was slowly walking back from the city.

The latter just responded to his gaze with cold eyes.

The steam core is running at full power, astonishing surging power is brewing in the spherical container, the complex pipeline system hisses on the ceiling of the mechanical cabin, and the huge connecting rods and gears slowly rotate in the steel frame at the end of the cabin.

When they noticed the figure of the old guard, they would unconsciously adjust their steps and keep a little distance from the gloomy and hunched old man.

Next to the button is a small line of text: Process No. 22, only for use in extreme circumstances.

It is his responsibility to keep the living away from the world of the dead. The former should not have excessive curiosity to avoid being harmed by it, while the latter can enjoy the peace of death and go on the road with peace of mind.

What if I made a wrong judgment?

The machine was contaminated, in a state of desecration - the thought crossed Belazov's mind for a second, but then it was gone.

He turned around and left the mechanical cabin, but did not go to any cabin. Instead, he continued to maintain a calm posture after leaving the bilge corridor and returned to his captain's cabin.

"Let me take a look at... the situation of the steam core." Belazov said, his eyes falling on the incense burner in the priest's hand.

It was like a restless soul pushing those steel gears to rotate rapidly, pushing the ship to sail towards the cities of the civilized world at extreme speeds.

What if there really isn’t any problem on the ship and the only problem is you? It was because he was severely polluted, which caused cognitive and memory deviations, and he even had auditory and visual hallucinations along the way... If this was true, then he would now have to bury an entire ship of people to accompany his neurosis!

There must be intelligent humans among those soldiers - but Belazov has no way to distinguish them yet, and he has no time to contact or screen one by one the eighty humans on the ship except himself and the mechanic.

He had stayed in this position for so long that even he had a touch of the "dead" temperament.

He had just gone to a distant street to buy some daily necessities. It was now approaching dusk, and he had to return to his "position" before the shift change time.

Belazov's body shook a little, but he soon stabilized and walked towards the direction of the steam core.

"General," a mechanic with oil stains on his body suddenly came from the side and put his hand in front of the control lever, "Don't touch these, the machine is sometimes very fragile."

Belazov's eyes passed over the grid where the documents were stored and landed on the red button at the bottom of the box.

Process No. 22?

Someone is injecting "impurities" into their thinking!

More harsh mechanical noises hit the face.

With the soft sound of the lock opening, the safe door opened.

The little ball of flesh swayed gently in the air, with a pale eye opening on it.

From time to time, soldiers came forward to greet him. Some of them gave him vague impressions, while others could not be named at all.

Belazov was startled for a moment, and then he saw the mechanic turning sideways, moving his lips slightly while fiddling with the joysticks.

A priest was shaking incense in front of the valve. He suddenly turned his head and looked at the general who was walking into the mechanical cabin. The church emblem on his chest seemed to be stained with a layer of oil, making the sacred symbols on it appear blurred.

Mechanics know the "heart" of the ship better than anyone.

"The machine is evil and cannot be shut down or destroyed."

"General?" The priest cast his gaze curiously, "Why are you here suddenly? Here..."

Belazov suddenly woke up at the knock on the door. He suddenly realized that those thoughts just now were probably not in line with his personality.

Ge... He is not a person who will suddenly hesitate at the last step of action.

Are they really their own soldiers? Are they really the crew of the Petrel? Are they this hidden thing? Or is it some kind of minion? Did they notice? Or are you wary? The next second... will these soldiers whose names they can't remember rush towards me?

Belazov's heart tightened, but soon he knew what he should do.

Belazov suppressed all his thoughts in his heart until he reached the entrance of the mechanical cabin and opened the unlocked gate.

But he still walked towards the console of the steam core - even though everything about this huge "steel heart" seemed normal to him at the moment, he slowly reached out to the console.

Without any further hesitation, Belazov pressed the red button instantly.

After a very short delay, a terrifying explosion swept through the entire ship - the mechanical clipper Petrel was instantly enveloped in flashes and flames, and was torn apart in the horrific destruction caused by high explosives.

The flaming wreckage of the Petrel floated on the sea for a while, and was gradually pushed to the northern sea under the influence of the current. Then its floating began to reach its limit - the scorching wreckage began to sink at an accelerated rate, and it As if being dragged by some invisible force, it sank faster and faster, and finally disappeared completely on the sea.

/

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