In the eerie room shrouded in dim colors that sunlight could barely illuminate, the dense writing faded from the air. Yet an ugly, terrifying tentacle extended from a hole in the ceiling, slowly swelling and shrinking as it swayed through the air, drawing ever closer to where Yu Sheng stood.
Yu Sheng's heart tightened. He hurriedly backed away two steps. He had indeed seen plenty of things lately that were either bizarrely drawn or horrifyingly grotesque, but even this scene made his scalp prickle. The tentacle's appearance was simply too awful to look at. Even with Yu Sheng's imagination, he couldn't think of how to modify the thing into something less nauseating during those first few seconds...
It was a tremendous shock to Yu Sheng.
The tentacle swayed sluggishly a few times in the air, seemingly having suddenly lost track of its "target." Then it began slowly swelling, shrinking, and wobbling aimlessly in place.
It was almost like sleepwalking blindly.
Yu Sheng calmed his slightly tense emotions. Keeping a cautious distance from the thing, he moved slowly along the wall to the other side of the tentacle.
Fuzzy, pale ripples spread through the dim room, as if Yu Sheng's footsteps had disturbed a grotesque dream. The ripples spreading through that dream stirred faintly glowing patterns across the tentacle's surface.
Was this the thing that the contact known as Old Zheng had touched? Was this some sort of "higher-dimensional projection" that he had "summoned" with a crude spirit-medium ritual after being beguiled by those Angel Cultists? Was this... the "messenger" those Angel Cultists spoke of?
Yu Sheng hesitated, then cautiously stepped half a pace closer to the tentacle. After confirming that this distance wouldn't disturb it, he began carefully examining the tentacle's surface and the eerie hole it had emerged from.