At The Spiral's Foot Ghi chép cốt truyện · phần 3 / 4

I awake at the bottom of the spiral, at the core of the Earth. Around me, a writhing mass, a mess of limbs, a mound of flesh. It forms the vortex that connects the here and the before.

The mass gazes at me. I glare back, torn inside by the selection of faces, all broken, shattered, and realigned.

It is a grotesque imitation of life where eyes melt to cheeks, lips liquify, and heads split to bloom into something new.

One seems estranged, yet familiar — a fleeting thought, a newspaper clipping, a whispered word. He is one, but he is many. He is a wanderer, as I am. He is all around.

Too humanoid to be born from the mist

Too suffocated, too glistening to be human

Or human, still

He is like morning dew

The dawn of a new day

The start of every spiral, waiting to be found