On the surface of the viscous Poison Sludge, a bubble slowly expanded and burst, releasing a weak but pure dark green poisonous gas with a withering and corrosive smell. This poisonous gas did not disperse immediately, but was quietly reabsorbed back by the slowly creeping dark "Yuni" below, which was no more than the size of a sea bowl.
"I..."
"Still..."
"Move..."
Extremely weak, like the friction of deep water undercurrents, and like the soft sound of the roots of decaying plants breaking, a cold, sticky, and uncertain "consciousness" was struggling to flow and take shape in the depths of this mass of Yuni.
"A lot of... 'stuff'... came in..."
"My body... is so full... it's about to explode..."
"No... need more..."
"Strange..."
The perception of chaos is like a stirred pool, turbid and unclear. It can only vaguely feel that the violent "torrent" (crazy devouring energy) that almost completely washed away and melted it seemed to have passed. Instead, it was replaced by a strange, unprecedented, extremely concentrated but extremely stagnant state.
It "sees" itself.
There are no eyes, but some kind of perception of "existence" originating from the depths of the soul allows it to "see" itself at this moment.
It is no longer the Deep Sea Demon Octopus that is as huge as a mountain and can cover the sky with its tentacles. Nor is it the broken, cold, broken consciousness that is about to dissipate.
But a mass...
It's squirming, its color is a bit darker than the surrounding poisonous cement slurry, it's almost jet black, it's viscous, it's slowly changing the subtle shape of its surface...Yuni.
The size is no bigger than a sea bowl. It can barely be called a "bump".
"This..."
"Is it me?"
Cold confusion, like waterweed, Entanglement embraces this new consciousness. There is no anger, no sadness, only an almost indifferent, detached look.
It remembers the destructive lightning, the severe pain of the disintegrating body, and the consciousness being torn apart and falling into the endless cold and dark void.
Then, there is a long, unconscious wandering and sleeping.
Then, there was the crazy torrent that came from all directions, which was both "delicious" and "dangerous", which almost exploded the remaining re-condensed "self".
But now, it is "alive". It is "alive" in a small and weird way that has never been imagined.
"Fantasy... world..."
A broken phrase suddenly emerged from the remnants of memory. It was a word that belonged to another identity and another life a long time ago, with the wonder and yearning of a bystander.
At this moment, this word appeared again, but it brought with it an indescribable and cold sense of absurdity.
That's right. Only in this bizarre world with different laws, can my broken consciousness be able to "live" again in such a filthy and dangerous place, relying on the same broken body (that amputated arm?), in this...Yuni posture.
"I have to say that this place... is still a fantasy world..."
An extremely weak, almost self-deprecating wave seemed to pass through his consciousness. But it was soon overwhelmed by more tangible feelings.
"The status... is wrong..."
It tried to "move". A heavy, sticky feeling came, as if every "part" was pulling on each other and filled with various "foreign objects". The ball "Yuni" slightly bulged to one side, and then slowly retracted, at an excruciatingly slow speed.
There are no limbs, no organs, not even a clear, stable form.
There is only a vague, "whole" perception, and an extremely limited ability to "flow" and "transform" oneself through "thinking".
And at the very core of this "Yuni", in the dark depths that seems to have no essential difference from the surrounding "matter", there is a "point".
A "point" that is rotating extremely slowly, extremely hard, exuding weak suction, and full of stagnation and chaos. Every rotation brings a kind of weakness, obstruction, and faint throbbing that seems to collapse at any time.
"This... is wrong."
"The 'stuff' in the body... is too much... it's too messy..."
"Like being stuffed with... indigestible... stones..."
Consciousness analyzes its own situation with difficulty. It cannot understand concepts such as "energy conflict" and "structural instability", but it can clearly perceive the "uncomfortable", "heavy", "weak" and "something wrong" with the core "point".
"To... drain out some..."
"Or... make them... obedient..."
Instinctively, it "wants" to control those "things" (energy) that are rampant in the body but are everywhere, causing fullness and pain.
However, what responded to it was more chaos and sluggishness. Those "things" seemed to have their own "tempers", which were unruly and conflicting with each other. Only a very small part could be absorbed and transformed by the slowly rotating and unreliable "point", maintaining the most basic existence of the body.
"No..."
"This... cannot..."
"Will... die again..."
A cold sense of crisis, like a poisonous snake, quietly wrapped around this new-born consciousness. It clearly felt how fragile its "existence" at the moment was. It was like a rough clay pot that was barely bonded with inferior glue and filled with unstable explosives. It might break from the inside at any time, or be completely destroyed by any disturbance from the outside world.
Especially... above, there was the terrifying aura belonging to the green-haired human that was vague but like a sword hanging high, making it instinctively feel boundless fear.
"Hide..."
"Cannot be discovered..."
This idea is clearer and more urgent than any thinking about one's own state.
Almost subconsciously, the keen sense of danger stemming from the Deep Sea Demon Octopus wreckage, and the instinct for "concealment" and "calming down" brought about by the "silence" rule, were aroused.
The dark luster on the surface of the slowly squirming, ink-black Yuni, like breathing, flickered extremely weakly for a moment, and then completely restrained itself.
All escaping and unstable energy fluctuations were forcibly suppressed and restrained.
Its own sense of existence is like water droplets dripping into ink, quickly fading and melting, and blending almost perfectly with the surrounding viscous bottom of the pool Yuni that exudes a similar smell.
Only the stagnantly rotating "point" at the very core is still extracting the most "mild" Toxic Energy from the surrounding environment, piece by piece, very slowly and with great difficulty, which is most consistent with its own attributes of coldness, death, and decay, to replenish the insignificant consumption.
More violent and conflicting energies are instinctively rejected by it and not touched.
The instinct to devour has changed from a greedy beast to an extremely cautious and picky eater.
"Soul... core..."
Another vague word, with a certain longing and "answer" meaning, vaguely emerged from the depths of the fog of memory, connected by this "survival crisis" and "self-pain".
It is incomplete and does not understand. But it vaguely feels that this may be related to the wrong "point" in the body, to how to make those disobedient "things" obedient, and... to make oneself truly "alive" instead of "existing" in a weird and fragmented way at any time like it is now.
It's just that that word is too far away and too vague. And the crisis at hand is too urgent.
Live.
Live first.
In this... strange, shrunken, weird, uncomfortable, but still "existing" posture after all.
In the cold, poisonous depths of Yuni, this new, deformed, painful but cold consciousness, like the most primitive worm, has compressed its own existence to the minimum, reducing all perceptions and activities to the minimum, leaving only the most basic maintenance of "existence" and the most instinctive avoidance of danger.
It "looks" at its new body, which is small, weird, and unstable.
"I have to say that this place... is still a fantasy world..."
"Otherwise... even this...Yuni... can't be considered..."
The last trace of cold thoughts that were almost self-deprecating also sank into the depths of the slowly rotating and cracked core, and fell silent together with the boundless desire for survival and the hidden worry about the "something wrong" state.
At the bottom of Myriad Poison Pool, the surface calm returned. Only tiny bubbles occasionally emerged from the depths of Yuni and burst silently.