It was the deep, dark seabed, beneath the city-state, where the tentacles of the ancient god's pool probed into the real world and grew daily in that indescribable darkness.

She was visible—the filthy and terrifying fleshly tentacles were its physical form, cold and chilling. But she was also invisible, because the will that stretched upward had already crossed the dark sea abyss and penetrated the city-state's thick rocks and soil. Its unimaginable power had been burrowing into this city for the past fifty years, or even longer, and piercing deeply into this boiling gold mine.

"Ms. Gatekeeper, we are now inside it—this place used to be rock, but the power of the ancient god has transformed the rock here into part of its flesh. This dark matter, separated by more than a thousand meters of rock and seawater, pulsates with the source on the seabed. And with each beat, it is further drawing that mirrored city-state closer to our real world... Do you hear it? Thump, thump... The flesh is wriggling, contracting, muttering. This place... is thinking."

Winston murmured softly, as if in prayer, slowly raising his hands and pointing to the endless darkness around him, as well as the interwoven "branches" like thorn bushes in the darkness. Between those branches, faint points of light still darted around like fireflies. Gradually, Agatha seemed to hear that low voice—thump, thump...

This abnormal area, buried deep in the boiling gold mine, of unknown size, was emitting a heartbeat.

Even her own heart seemed to be affected by this heartbeat, about to resonate and beat along with it.

However, a faint warm current suddenly appeared in her heart, causing Agatha to suddenly awaken. She realized that her humanity had just returned from the brink of madness. Her expression changed, and she stared intently into Winston's eyes.

"Your mind is no longer normal, Governor Winston—you have been affected by this place."

"Ah... Is that so? Perhaps," Winston waved his hand dismissively. "At first, I thought I could calm this ancient god down again like the Queen, then I thought I could at least delay it for a while, and then I thought I could at least stay awake until the end. So... I had already failed without realizing it?"

"Calm this ancient god down like the Queen?" Agatha keenly noticed the key in the governor's words. Her eyes changed slightly, and she vaguely realized the real reason why this governor was here. "You mean, the Frost Queen of half a century ago successfully put the power of the Abyssal Sacred Lord into slumber?"

Winston laughed. "...What do you think happened with the sea cliff collapse back then?"

Agatha paused, and hesitantly said, "The sea cliff collapse... After the Queen was beheaded, the entire

execution ground fell into the sea... That wasn't an accident?!"

"That was a sacrifice. The sacrifice was the Queen herself, as well as the first batch of opportunists who chose to betray her after the uprising broke out—of course, the entire executioner group and many rebel officers were buried with her," Winston said calmly. "We sealed the detailed information of that year, so few people know the details after the sea cliff collapse—thousands of people died in that accident, but in fact, almost all the civilians survived that collapse. And those who were swept into the waves... even if they were only a meter away from the shore, had no chance to struggle and were instantly sucked into the seabed.

"And after that collapse, the abnormal area in the boiling gold mine once stopped expanding. It was not until then that the first governor realized that everything was in Lei Nora's plan—the cold truth was transferred to the governor through the key left by the Queen. Just as she said, now it's our turn."

Agatha fell silent. After a moment, her expression became somewhat complicated. "You came here to recreate that sacrifice of that year..."

' is rising, the knowledge contained in the key tells me that to suppress this process, one must touch the thinking of '. Fifty years ago, the power of was still sleeping in the deep sea, so the Queen could only sacrifice herself to the deep sea. But now, her power has deeply penetrated the city-state, so this is the best place to touch it—this is the method left by the Queen in the key. Every

governor will be entangled in this responsibility after taking the key, and then prepare for it for life. I have made all the preparations for this, but I didn't expect one thing..."

Winston twitched the corner of his mouth, which could hardly be called a smile.

"Not everyone is Lei Nora."

Agatha listened silently, then lowered her head and quietly looked at the brass key still lying in her palm.

This was something created by the Frost Queen using some kind of extraordinary power—she condensed the "knowledge" she touched and a part of her "thoughts" into the key in physical form.

But for some reason, Agatha always felt that this key... should have other uses.

It should not only exist to bind the successive rulers of the Frost City-State to a responsibility.

But at this moment, Governor Winston was obviously unable to answer her any more questions—and she herself seemed to have no way back.

After learning the truth of this dark space, Agatha understood this: she did not pass through that stone wall to reach a certain place, but was directly integrated into a huge abnormal mass.

Waiting for Winston here was death, and waiting for herself was return and assimilation.

She looked at her palm and saw that the skin on her hand that was in contact with the key had already shown signs of softening and deformation. Some viscous black substances were seeping out of the skin, gradually covering the key.

But she wanted to go further. She was a little... curious about this place.

"Is there anything else we can do?" Agatha lowered her head and looked at the city-state governor who was no longer speaking. "Are you going to wait here for death to come?"

"Death has already come, madam—we are just reviewing our failed lives before taking our last breath," Winston shook his head. "There's nothing to do. Like me, sit down and rest."

"...You have actually done what you should do. As the governor of Frost, you have at least bravely faced this so-called 'curse'," Agatha said calmly. "Lack of strength does not mean inaction."

Winston just shrugged mockingly, "Incompetence is a sin."

"...I'm going to go further. I'm going to pass through this 'thicket' and go to the place where the tentacle is located," Agatha said. "Are you going to come with me?"

"It's meaningless to me, madam," Winston said softly. "If you want to go, then go. Let me stay here—my road has ended."

Agatha stared at him for a few seconds, then handed the brass key over: "This is your thing."

Winston did not reach out, but raised his head and looked into Agatha's eyes: "Take it with you. You have already taken it, it is yours. That's how we have passed it down to this day."

Agatha was silent for a moment, then put the key away.

"Okay, then I'll go on my own."

She said goodbye to Winston, then turned around, propped up her cane, and stepped out into this dark and empty space.

"Ms. Agatha," Winston's voice suddenly came from behind, "Does this really make sense?"

Agatha tilted her head slightly: "Why do you ask?"

"Even if you know more truths ahead, even if you can really pass through this 'thicket' and touch the limbs of that ancient god, what can you change? You can't stop all this, and you can't even pass on what happened here to the outside world—the investigation is over. In the absence of information transmission, the more you know, the more meaningless it is."

Agatha's footsteps stopped. After a moment of thought, she whispered, "I am the Gatekeeper of Frost. This is my duty. And..."

She paused, and unconsciously pressed the brass key in her hand against her chest.

It was still very cold around, and the feeling of blood gradually solidifying was stronger than ever, but for some reason, she had always felt a slight warmth beating in her heart since just now, as if... there

was a cluster of invisible flames jumping, supporting her to move forward.

In her mind, thoughts that did not belong to her were jumping gently. The strongest of these thoughts was an obsession—the direction of the obsession pointed to the illusory and incomparably huge "tentacle" outside this thicket.

"It makes sense. I am not moving forward alone—although there is no evidence, I think... what I see here will eventually be known by someone."

"Oh, is that so? That's great... Ms. Agatha, it's admirable that you still hold beliefs until the last moment."

Winston's voice stopped, and there was no more movement in that direction.

Agatha turned her head and saw a small lantern shining in the darkness, illuminating a section of withered "stump." A middle-aged man in a dark blue coat was quietly leaning against the stump.

His temple was pierced by a bullet hole, and in his drooping hand, he held an exquisitely crafted revolver.