【生肉搬运】鸟雀Passerine 第六章（下）(14)

And then as he came around a bend, he saw it: a belltower rising towards the sky, its bells still pealing away, and beneath its long shadow, a church of marble with its doors thrown open. An invitation.
“It’s not too late to turn back around,” Techno said.
“Yes,” Wilbur said, “it is,” and climbed the stairs to his apotheosis.
What else could Techno do but follow?
They walked into the church, and found him immediately.
He was sitting on a pulpit of marble, his legs dangling over its gilded edge. He was calmly reading a book, eyes leisurely moving across the leather-bound pages. His eyes were the most striking thing about him, an unnatural shade of green that reminded Techno of overripe grapes, sour instead of sweet and rotten to the core. The rest of him was… unremarkable. Save for the fact that he was wearing nothing more than a faded-white tunic and trousers in the freezing cold, he could have passed for a mortal: curly dark-blonde hair tucked behind his ears, hands wrapped in bandages up to the knuckles, and a face that could have been a face Techno passed on the street a million times over without remembering it. No obsidian wings or eyes the color of fresh-drawn blood. A man, not a god.