But without needing to be told, Martin had guessed it—he still did not know what this so-called "Fallen Consciousness Entity" actually referred to.
Nor did he understand the hidden sacrificial ritual.
Yet from certain online information in the real world, he had sensed that this world was likely abnormal, perhaps even harboring mysterious powers.
But the various unnatural deaths and disappearances had made Martin realize that those abnormalities definitely did not belong to life, but to destruction and death.
That meant that even if he went looking for them, those mysteries would do nothing for his headache.
So a pinch of weed was far more satisfying!
Martin stared at the line, "the Pure Ones instead became a beneficial part of its body," his mind racing as he considered its meaning.
"Do these so-called Pure Ones refer to the souls in these white rooms?"
"If it really refers to the people lying in beds, including me, then it means that we Pure Ones are components of 'it.'"
Martin felt a chill. What exactly was their current state?
They were individual souls—the souls of sentient beings!
And seeing these souls lying on white beds beneath beams of light, having completely lost their autonomy, made Martin think of something.
PC farms. Server clusters!
"Could every soul represent a computer unit?"
The thought was undoubtedly insane. No one could accept being part of someone else, let alone having everything about themselves controlled.
"Then what am I?"
"Am I a free individual, a part of the 'Creator,' or perhaps a virus?"
"And what is the meaning of my existence?"
Questions surfaced one after another in Martin's mind, and he felt a faint phantom ache in his head.
He had clearly become an intermediate demon, more than capable of bearing the pain of that "Hyperthymesia"!
Martin